I started the 31st week of my pregnancy crying over the kitchen sink as I crammed my gestational diabetes breakfast into my mouth. It wasn’t the pregnancy hormones this time. It was the overwhelming grief and the sudden realization of what it means to be a parent.
Being an adoptee has made being pregnant all that much more strange and interesting.
“Sometimes I turn to Waffle and randomly exclaim, ‘This is happening!’ I should probably stop doing that as we get closer to, like, the possibility of me going into actual labor.”
There is no chance I’m going to evade the Cult of Mommy-ness. My undercut can’t save me.
I’m not a crier. I really resist the idea that hormones affect me, but pregnancy hormones affect me. OMG.