People that ever want to be a mom, read at your own risk.

Does it make me a terrible mom that I already hate being pregnant? That I cannot seem to get too excited as of late? That I almost resent this parasite, who I still love dearly, but nevertheless is a parasite that is sucking the life out of me and turning my own body against me? I apparently have been really negative about this whole process lately as people keep trying to cheer me up, telling me how lucky I am and how excited I should be. All I can say is, let me see them be excited when their heads are in the toilet. It's amazing that a tiny ultrasound blob that is only one centimeter long can screw up/bless my life so royally.

I keep trying to come up with reasons to justify why I am not enjoying pregnancy and already dreading the next one (borrowing trouble just a little bit there). I really hate change and this reeks of my typical negative attitude and freaking out that accompanies life changes. Or it could be that my entire body is changing and everything hurts constantly and everyday is a struggle to get through. I mean, when the basics (sleeping, going to the bathroom, eating) are a nightmarish struggle, that is some cause for anxiety. It could be that I'm freaking out about being a parent, although I don't think that's it. I feel pretty prepared and am frankly counting down the days till this baby can come out and at least I can get my stomach back. Maybe it's because I, unlike some girls, have seen a lot of pregnancies and know what to expect. There are no rose-colored glasses guarding me from seeing into the next seven months of happy hell. So what is the deal? Why can't I get excited about this? Maybe I'm just a terrible person.

My theory is that I'm completely normal. You see, the happy things in pregnancy eventually block out the bad. I've seen this with moms who just went through an atrocious delivery process only to forget everything the minute that baby is in their arms. I think women just get to the second trimester of their pregnancy, their body feels better, they can feel their baby kicking, and they just forget how horrible the last four months have been. It's like God-made memory drugs.

So what's the moral of this story? If you'd ever like to have kids, don't talk to someone about their experience until they're well past their first trimester. Better yet, wait till their kids are toddlers and they are reminiscing about the old days of having babies.

In the end, even though I felt really prepared for pregnancy, I really had no idea. I knew at least to some extent how much a baby changes your life once it comes out. I've seen how much that baby takes over your body once you start looking like a whale. However, I was not prepared for how much this baby would change my life starting a mere 10 days after it's conception. I had no idea I'd start running the marathon this early.

Wow, that's a lot of negativity. Don't get me wrong, I am really glad that I'm pregnant and excited for this baby, but right now my brain is kind of caught up in daily survival. When I can make it through a day again semi-normally and I can see/feel this baby more, I think I will be able to get much more excited. The one thing I do know is that my mother was a epic hero, a strong soldier, a superhero. Hope I can measure up...

Or at least make it to the second trimester.