How to hate pregnancy like a boss featuring hashtags

Holy 9 weeks!

Now that I'm approaching the end, I can't deny how strangely manageable these past seven months have been. But I'm also afraid that these easy breezy, beautiful (#covergirl) months come at the expense of 24 hours (or more) of hell. They say you forget...but I'll believe it when I see it.

In the beginning of my pregnancy, I suffered from nausea that persuaded me to avoid consuming most anything, but I was (and have been) fortunate enough to lack vomiting as a symptom of my changing body. In the middle, I was able to eat more, but experienced a smattering of two-second heartburn and backaches (the only real symptom I could have done without) coupled with severe irritability and a lack of patience. (Poor David.) Currently, I'm experiencing this feeling of HUGENESS, as if I could fall forward (or pass out from walking up the stairs) at any minute...and I pretty much look forward to any amount of time that my body gets to be horizontal. I don't want to do much of anything, but there is still so much to do. And did I mention the stretch marks? #thestruggle, am I right?

Speaking of stretch marks, I know some women who are so proud of their lil' miracle and are happy to share pictures of their bellies complete with phrases like "these are my victory stripes". #putyourshirtdown. I have a serious complex about the fact that my stomach currently looks like scene out of a pitiful slasher movie. In fact, for a majority of my pregnancy, I've associated pregnancy with this:

I should admit that I actually broke down at work one day because I was disgusted by being able to see Roman move inside me. #world'sworstpregnantwoman

I should also probably admit that on the flip side, I am incredibly satisfied with how AWESOME my hair has become since getting pregnant. Let's be honest, it's fanfrickintastic. #world'smostvainpregnantwoman

It's hard to fathom the degree of change awaiting me in these upcoming weeks. Often, I find myself overjoyed at the prospect of Roman's arrival; knowing that he was created from the unimaginably blissful relationship that I have with my spectacular husband. {--Can I just interrupt this thought process to truly appreciate how amazing David has been? I don't think I could have made it without having him around to tolerate my complaining or avidly admiring my gross body everyday or (literally) picking me up because I'm too heavy to get up off the floor/couch/bed/car/anywhere by myself? #world'sneediestwife--} Other times, however, I'm overwhelmed with fear and anxiety; nervous about how I'll be able to handle mom/wife/scholar/employee at once and still maintain some level of normalcy. I fluctuate between being content and being erratic on the daily. #acutebipolardisorder

Maybe things will get better once he gets here...or at least once he gets on a normal sleep schedule. Or maybe I'll be your average middle class MILF who tucks a flask between her bra and breast pad in case of "emergencies". #priorities. I'm kidding. Please don't call child services.

I feel obligated to thank everyone who has had the...pleasure...of dealing with me in any fashion since I've been pregnant. It has been a roller coaster of ridiculousness that I don't intend to repeat any time soon - if ever. You guys rock. #appreciate. Look for pictures on my facebook page by clicking the link or button to the right!

That awkward moment when...

This weekend without David was strange. Waking up with a new boy in my bed provides additional, half-drowsy challenges. Though I'm sure Kossin wouldn't have minded a good morning kiss, I'm positive that David 2 (also known as boyfriend) would've felt encroached upon. It was a good weekend though. I never see enough of my favorite people (insert Lauren, Daniel, David, Angela, and Lee here) being as Tallahassee is literally in the middle of nowhere. Aside from being surrounded by other cities that are also in the middle of nowhere.

Saturday was spent mostly failing at everything. Our order ticket got lost when we went out to breakfast: cue 1.5 hours of waiting on a meal that would never come. After my first geocache (EPIC!), we picked up Mallory and headed downtown to the local crawfish boil. There was a cover charge to walk the street that didn't include the cost of food or drinks so we walked a few more blocks to check out the Saturday Farmer's Market...which apparently ends early in the afternoon. Then we drove across town to get smoothies and visit Mission San Luis (my favorite historical site in town). Surprise, surprise....closed 10 minutes prior to our arrival. We drove home and watched Easy A instead.

"My David" and I successfully finding my first Geocache. Also, WHY DON'T MY GLASSES EVER STAY ON MY FACE?

Additional awkwardness occurs when you're hanging out with the first guy you ever dated and his mother who pretty much thinks you're satan-spawn. Oh yea, and his entire extended family. Kossin always looks at me afterward, to which I usually respond with, "Don't. Say. Anything." Some encounters never stop being weird.

***

So, for any one who has attempted Insanity: kudos. Seriously. I didn't realize that the fit test would be so...high powered. I did half and then decided I'd rather run a marathon, naked, in the snow than do ten more minutes of the fit test. I settled for 5k, clothed, in Tallahassee humidity. Tomorrow's Day 1 should be an eye opener. Maybe we're in over our heads? It seems that jumping up and down and doing "power jacks" and scissor kicks only accomplishes one of three things: 1) Leo barks and pounces at my ridiculousness, 2) I scare myself as I hit the thin hardwood floor, sure I'm going to fall through, and 3) my legs--not my core--burn incessantly. I'm obviously doing it wrong, as well as sounding like a retarded dinosaur. If David still loves me after wedding dancing and embarrassing workout techniques, then he definitely deserves me. Or maybe it's me who deserves him. I'm a mess.

And briefly: this is my bajillionth week holding first place in our fantasy baseball league. Also, David tried to trade-rape me. Men don't know anything about how intuitive women are. But women always underestimate the ways in which men will try to manipulate them. You won't fool this girl!

I'll let you all know how Day 1 goes. Or doesn't. Stay classy, San Diego.