Cuz I Got Knooooocked Up

Hey Folks,

Long time, no write. I hadn't planned to write again - just fell out of interest with it - but something has recently happened in ya girl's life. There's a little chocolate militant sports-loving CUTE AND FINE drama king or queen a-coming! LOL That's right...we're pregnant! So much for "we'll wait 3 years so we can enjoy each other alone first and get some more traveling out of the way." Out the window went "OK, let's wait 2 years because we're not getting any younger." And forget about "Let's definitely wait until 2008 because you're just starting a new job and don't want to be out on maternity leave no sooner than you start." All the planning in the world means nothing when God is at the helm...and when you're humpin like jack rabbits and not using condoms like a bunch of retards. I mean what did we think was gon happen? Seriously! We tried, yall. Honest, we did. But who stoppin to reach for all that when you already got started?!

But lest I sound annoyed, I'm elated. I'm scared. I'm anxious. I'm fearful. I'm confused. I have tons and tons of questions. And I'm wondering what in the world kind of mother will I be. I took the first test on Friday. Peed on that stick, waited til the little hourglass started spinning - which meant the test was working - and then before I finished washing my hands, PREGNANT was on the screen! All of my initial thoughts were so un-motherly to me that ya girl is seriously scared about what the future holds for me as a parent. I was at my parents' house, and only my daddy was home. And as I walked down the steps to show him the test, this was my prayer:

Lord, you know my fears. You know I don't want the back of my neck to get any blacker. I'm already unevenly complected. You know I don't want a fat nose with that ring around it. I don't want acne, Lord. My skin already has problems enough. Can you please keep my stretch marks to the back of me? Keep them to the bottom of my hips and butt so they're not visible if my shirt happens to ride up or something!


What the heck kind of prayer is that for a mother to be praying? But wait...that was Friday. Saturday, I took the other stick out and peed on that too. The result was the same. So now I'm out on the sofa talking to CB, throwing question after question to him, to God and to no one in particular: How does my stomach know when to stop stretching? I mean our skin ain't meant to stretch that wide. What if you see my poo poo open that wide and then aren't attracted to me anymore after that? What if you don't want to have sex with me after that? What if I get so fat and stretched marked up that I never want to get naked again? Are you going to find me attractive while I'm fatter and waddling, nose spreading? What if I rip and have to be sewn back together? What if I poop on the delivery table? What are you going to think? What if I can't poop after the delivery and you have to go up there and help pull it down like DM's mother? Are you going to do that? What does having a whole other being move around inside of you feel like? No seriously. What if the baby sucking on my nipples leaves them crazy-shaped? Do you realize that everything I eat, everything I drink, everything I read, everything I listen to has a direct affect on this baby developing inside of me? DO YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF PRESSURE THAT IS?! It's unreal, man. I don't know if I can do it. If I can't have anymore Pepsi's, I'll just die! Am I strong enough or maternal enough to sacrifice a Pepsi and salt on my food for the sake of my developing little CB? Cuz I dang sure ain't givin up meat.


My darling CB let me get it all out and then hugged me and said NYM, we're going to be fine. All those fears are normal, baby, and it's going to be OK. When we go to the doctor's next week, you can ask her all those questions. That was sweet and all, but I noticed he ain't say he was still going to find me attractive when I'm fatter and stretched marked up. LOL (joke..but he ain't say it)

Anyway, I'm asking all the people in my life, especially the mommas, to bear with me because I'm about to ask some real questions. I don't want to hear about how sweet the baby's first movement is, or how beautiful it is holding your child after giving birth, and how you don't remember the pain anymore. I want to know if anybody passed gas like a friggin hot air balloon because I stay fartin and gasey. I want to know about going to the bathroom on the delivery table and your baby getting shyt on him cuz you just shat on the table. I want to know about taking that first dump afterwards. I want to know what your coochie feels like after being opened and stretched to record-breaking widths. Like is there a breeze? Am I going to be walking funny? Am I going to have a permanent bigger vagina? Is CB going to still fit? WHEN DOES MORNING SICKNESS STOP?! YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO WALK AROUND ALL DAY NAUSEOUS AND QUEASY AND FEELING LIKE YOU WANNA VOMIT?! Somebody answer me! I'm going crazy! I'm trying to be happy, and I am, but I got fears and I got questions and I'M PREGNANT!

OMG, I'm pregnant! What the world done come to?! *fainted*

*revived* Oh, at some point, I'll be circulating a baby-sitting schedule for all the aunties - yall know who you are. One weekend a month, I think, is a nice start.

OK, *fainted* again.