Codi is wiggling around inside me right now. Today I've decided he feels like a bouncy ball. Not just any bouncy ball but a super ultra mega bouncy ball. He's just in there going boing boing boing boing. It is cracking me up he's left, he's right, he's up, he's do no wait now he's lef, no, hey hold still where are you?








Julia asked my why I didn't come to her and talk about it. Well duh, because minutes after I posted this she got so offended she already turned her blog private. Are you kidding me. Had I said it in person nothing different would have happened accept that I would have had to see her reaction. That is what blogs are for to talk about your feelings. I realize that she has had a miscarriage before. But that was very early in a pregnancy. I can understand the worry to a certain point, but now, this far along there comes a point where I can't hear about it anymore. Rather then making her blog private she should have written a real response saying she was sorry that she had such little concern for what I was feeling, and explained that aside from EVERY SINGLE POST SHE HAS WRITTEN she really was happy about this and that she really does have positive things to say about it. However she chose to put her blog private and act like a child about it. Really. This was just one person sharing her feelings and for her to over react this bad is silly and amusing to me!

Even as I sit here typing this, my stomach is full of cramps, I'm having a hard time sitting up and still STILL I'm not going on and on I'm being positive. I guess maybe rather then going private and pouting about it, she should have stopped to notice that this was obviously my way of letting her know, I feel like she is being very disrespectful of me and not even realizing her words are really hurting me.

However, I did not confront her because I already knew how sensitive she is and I couldn't deal with it in person. IN FACT I forwarded this blog to 3 people before I published it, and I told all three of them, this person is so sensitive she is going to put her blog private rather then talk about what happened and try and stop and see it from my perspective. And I'll be damned if I didn't hit the nail right on the head!

Weird food quirk

Didja know that when eat the following, I must have a glass of milk with it or the food will taste bad to me?

Must have milk with
Breakfast, especially things with syrup
Ice cream

I'm strange!


When I was pregnant with Brandon everything was sooo different. If I bought something for him, I ran right home and washed it in baby Dreft. Then I folded it and put it in his teeny drawers because his room was completed the weekend after I found out he was a boy. I packed and repacked his bag and his drawers and played in his closet and organized until I thought my fingers would fall off. That is why it is so strange that this time around, all of Codi's stuff is in a haphazard pile in my guest room WITH ALL THE TAGS STILL ON.

That is not like me. It is so unlike me to not be already playing with the stuff. However, for some reason, I have this nagging feeling in my mind that although I may carry this pregnancy to term, I just don't get the feeling that in the end I will have a baby. I haven't dreamt about him at all. I just get the strangest feeling about it. It is one of those things that if Codi didn't make it I would say, I somehow knew it all along. However, aside from not taking the tags off the clothes I barely think about this. I concentrate on the good part, and the hope and I try and think that at the end I will have a second perfect little boy.

It is because of this, and the fact that I have actually had problems that I am becoming extremely frustrating reading about a certain person who can't stop hoping that things are alright with their child. Even after being hospitalized and on bed rest I still don't sit here saying over and over and over that I hope this baby is okay and healthy and blah blah blah. I realize that I'm over 20 weeks along whatever is going to happen is done. I hate when people sit there worrying for no reason at all. On top of all of it, they are actually having this terrific normal pregnancy, with a baby that moves often (which is the biggest sign of a healthy baby) and yet they choose to spend their whole pregnancy whining about how they HOPE THINGS ARE OKAY. I am shocked they don't just choose to enjoy it and be happy. Even if they are happy all their blog is conveying is that they are spending the whole time worrying. All I'm thinking is gee, if this person is worried about her PERFECTLY NORMAL pregnancy then how the fuck should I be sitting here feeling right now? Brandon was my first pregnancy. Never once during that pregnancy did I sit there whining I hoped it was okay, instead I chose to tell myself well shit, I have no reason to think otherwise so of course he is okay. He is moving, he is growing and I'm not bleeding so duh it must be good.

It feels like so far all this person has done is complain about not looking pregnant, worrying the baby is okay and find out about the sex. We haven't heard anything at all positive. NOTHING. I would hate to find out something is wrong with their child, but for now, with nothing being wrong it is so frustrating to continuously read blogs asking for reassurance, when honestly I have none to give.

I'm sitting here wasting away on my ass at home, wishing I could be out in my swim suit flaunting my belly and frolicking at Wild Waters or in swimming pools. Wishing I could be down at farmers market enjoying fruit and showing off my big ole belly to my friends, and all I've read from this person, or heard is they are to embarrassed to wear a swimming suit in public. REALLY uggg. If only I could have that option.

Maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe I'm being a bitch, but come on, if you haven't gathered from this blog that I am actually a huge bitch yet, then its your own fault for still reading. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. I purposely pushed this person away because it was becoming way to much for me to hear that she was worried about her baby while I'm at home on bed rest and can't even pick up my fucking son when he gets hurt. What am I supposed to say about that? I can only hope that in 5 months when she has this baby she doesn't look back and wish that she had spent more time thinking about the positive and the happy and the miracle of pregnancy. That she won't think to herself, fuck, if only I had enjoyed every single second of this pregnancy, if only I hadn't complained every day as if this pregnancy was the worst thing ever. I know that at least 3 of my friends read her blog and we all walk away wondering, Fuck is she even happy and proud of this pregnancy or is she just wishing something to go wrong so then she can be right? Because that is how it feels. It feels like she is just hoping to find out something is wrong so then she can feel validated in her worries.

It is for this reason, I don't often talk about my fears, about my thoughts that maybe I'll never get to raise Codi. Because no matter what I want to enjoy this pregnancy, I want this baby to be grown stress and worry free. I want him to always feel zen. And most of all in the end I don't want to look back and say, wow I wish I hadn't thought so negatively all the time.

I even have a doctors appointment tomorrow for an ultrasound to check to see if the blood is still there and if I can come fully off bed rest. The funny thing is never once has it come out of my mouth that I hope the baby is okay. Know why, because I feel him moving in there, and I know, that at least for now Codi is fine. If I didnt have another ultrasound the whole pregnancy I would be totally fine because I feel this little guy in there playing soccer with my bladder, and for me that tells me enough right there. It tells me my son is fine!

Yeah sure I write my funny shit about my udders and my pogs, but you all know that I do that for comedy. I do it for my readers. That no matter how jiggly my body gets I know I'm still one sexy bitch. Oh and while I'm talking about my udders and pogs and chicken pocks, today I realized I bear a strong resemblance to that marshmallow man in Ghost Busters, accept I think I might even be whiter then him!

Anyway hit me up and tell me what you think. Am I being a jerk? Or is it okay that I am so extremely frustrated by this person? Either way I know me and a few select friends of mine aren't going to stop feeling this way. As you can see in Stephanies blog, she too feels like maybe some people need to stop and put into perspective how great they've got it, and realize they could be in my shoes right now, or Laineys shoes, or Karlas.

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