It’s beginning to become clear to me why people recommend that you are legally bound to someone before you embark on a childbirthing journey. I thought it was just so your conservative relatives wouldn’t get mad at you. But it’s not. It’s so there is someone who is more or less required to deal with who you turn into. Here are the major three reasons I am glad that Husband is around.
Reason 1: I look like a thirteen year old, and not in the fresh-faced, youthful way. According to my research, I can’t use any of my acne medicine, and whatever hormone Fetusaurus is feeding off of is also feeding my zits. As a result, my face is pretty much a mountain range of unsexy.
Reason 2: I look like a thirteen year old, and not in the fresh-faced, youthful way. I look like a thirteen year old before I realized that I needed to do some facial maintenance to eliminate the appearance of a 5 o’clock shadow on my upper lip. No bleaching allowed means I look like a prepubescent boy whose voice just dropped.
Reason 3: I am eating like a crazy person. I just went to the grocery store specifically for sushi, stopped to look at the case, and realized that sushi was the absolute last thing on the planet that I wanted. Fetusaurus does not want meat. He/she doesn’t want vegetables anymore. Fetusaurus wants carbs in random forms: Ramen noodles, french fries, granola bars. Husband has had to fend for himself on the food front for the past couple of weeks. I don’t want to cook anything. I don’t want to eat anything. It’s all I can do to feed myself enough to keep from starving on a daily basis.