So, I thought I would share this embarrassing pregnancy
moment with you, because, well frankly, nothing really embarrasses me at this
point.
So last Friday, Chase randomly spent the night at his
grandma’s house, and I am a hunting widow, so I thought: Hey, why don't I do something crazy. Like go shopping by myself. You
know, like actually browse Walmart without having to dodge the toy aisle,
having to run someone to the bathroom every few minutes or having my child beg
and beg for something. And sometimes
Chase begs for toys too. So I was stoked
for this. And no, I don’t feel that
being this excited to venture on an independent trip to Walmart to pick out
shampoo in peace is pathetic. If you
would have asked me five years ago, sure.
I would have thought this was extremely pathetic, especially on a Friday
night. But that was before I pushed an 8
and a half pound nugget out of my vagina.
So here I am, pushing a shopping cart through Walmart when I
feel a vibrating feeling. I pulled out my
phone from my back pocket, but it wasn’t ringing. I didn’t think much of it, put my phone back
in my pocket and moseyed along my journey.
I took a few steps and I felt the vibrating sensation
again. Again, I took out my phone to
check to see if there was a call. But nothing.
I continued to waddle along as I felt the same vibration continue. Now, I was starting to get worried. I looked around to see if anyone else was
reacting to this vibrating feeling. Was
there an earthquake? Was the floor going
to cave in? But no one around me seemed
to be concerned, so along I trotted.
Until, it happened again.
It was this time that I figured out what this vibrating feeling was…. It
was (dun, dun, dun) my thighs rubbing together! (Gasp). Now, don’t get me wrong, I have never been
one to be concerned, whatsoever, about my weight (or anyone else’s weight) but
I find it somewhat pathetic that I actually considered that there was an
earthquake in Minnesota, in November, before I considered that my 40 pound
weight gain could be effecting the way I walk, or waddle.
So here I am with ten weeks left of my second, and last,
pregnancy, ( Yeah, yeah, I know I said that last time. But this time I really mean it.) without the
ability to control when and where I urinate and without a thigh gap. So I did the only thing I could think of
doing…. I went through the Arby’s drive thru and feasted on a hearty roast beef sandwich and curly fries, with extra Arby's sauce, of course.
Anywho, Happy Tuesday!
