Another one from my new favorite columnist.
I'm not a b*tch, I'm pregnant!
by The Sarcastic Journalist
There were four words that drove me nuts every time I heard them while pregnant: How do you feel?
I know, I know, seems simple enough. Someone wants to know how you are feeling! How nice! Those words, although simple enough, seem loaded during pregnancy.
How do I feel? HOW DO I FEEL? I’m pregnant, my belly is stretching, I have cravings for peanut butter at 3 o’clock in the morning and my husband has affectionately nicknamed me “Pudgy.” How the heck do you think I feel?
The people who asked me this question always did with such concern. They’d place a hand on my shoulder, lean in and utter those four little words, much like I’d expect a doctor to say “It is malignant” to a patient.
My pregnancy hormones usually had a role in the way I answered. I’d have to bite my tongue not to reply something horrible about how I really felt.
How do I feel? I feel like shoving my foot up your butt if you ask me that stupid question just one more time.
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