... that urinating would no longer be the natural, taken-for-granted act it is for most people, but a wild contortionist experience involving grotesque body twisting and maneuvering to get my bladder into peeing position.
... that I would have to repeat the contortionist process only 3 minutes after completing the first one, and then again 5 minutes after completing the second one.
... that my patience and tolerance for others' behavior would be inversely proportionate to my expectation of their patience and tolerance for MY behavior.
... that every time I'm asked with a snicker, "So, craving any new foods lately?" it would irritate me so much that I want to reply, "Yes. YOUR HEAD. WITH PICKLES. Happy now?"
... that these kicks that started out so sweet and cute in my belly would actually be so strong now as to jiggle all my abdominal fat around in a very unattractive manner and make me feel not unlike Sigourney Weaver from Alien.
... that I would grossly fail in my quest to be Serenity Mother, Goddess of Calm and Sweet Light and instead want to staple things to the heads of everyone who says something either stereotypical or blazingly ignorant about pregnancy and the female body.
... that Babies R' Us could simultaneously dazzle the wits out of me while also bringing me to blubbering tears because of all the CHOICES. My God, the CHOICES.
... that I would have to buy new, even larger work uniforms only 3 weeks after having bought the first set of new, larger work uniforms.
... that this once very career-oriented, paycheck-lovin' woman would pull a 180-degree switcheroo and do just about anything to be able to stay at home with Upcoming Baby all the time.
... that morning sickness isn't limited to the first trimester (seriously? Are you kidding me?).
... that finding a large, very alive cockroach in our bedroom would almost instantaneously jump from "we should probably call pest control in the morning" to "we're all going to DIE, life is MEANINGLESS, I should have never have thought to bring another human life into this CRAZY, TROPICAL BUG INFESTED WORLD", complete with blubbering tears and snot rivers.
... that my husband's tenderness and patience through my irrational tear-laden anxieties would make me cry even harder out of gratitude. (Ladies, eat your hearts out. He's the BEST.)
... that I would ever be so in awe of what my body could do, this amazing ability to produce and sustain new life.
... that I would finally, triumphantly outdo my husband, Eater of Hot Garlic Everything, in the contest of who has the stinkier farts. By a LONG SHOT.
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