Final Stretch

This is outrageous.  I’ve been pregnant for 400 years and things aren’t going well.  As soon as I was struck pregnant, I suffered immediate outlandish symptoms that ranged from hellacious nausea to something called mouth ulcers, which I’m pretty sure only afflicts like .5% of pregnant women.  I wish I could say that all the indignities I’ve been enduring were well worth the heartache, but I don’t know much about the kid inside me other than the fact that she likes to kick me in the cunt about twenty times a day which doesn’t lend itself to a lot of heartwarming feelings.  Mostly I feel like she’s either trying to kill me or escape.  The point is my unborn child literally hates me.

I’ve shared this theory with several mothers who all blankly stare at me and then stop returning my phone calls, but I feel that it’s plausible.  Basically my child spends every waking moment sucking all imaginable nutrients from my system so that she can get big and strong making her solely responsible for all of my ailments.  I mean would it be so hard for her to just leave me a few morsels of sustenance?  It seems she is punishing me for having to live in a uterus that’s filled with cigarette smoke and bong resin.  OH PUHLEASE, IT CAN’T BE THAT BAD IN THERE.  LEAVE ME SOME VITAMIN C, YOU WITCH!  Now I know what you’re thinking: “Alison, fetuses aren’t malicious.  You’re confusing your embryo with the girls from high school.”  Am I though?  Let me just tell you what this kid has put me through. 

Most recently, I felt that my vagina was falling apart.  Something was very wrong down there and I would have been able to diagnose myself sooner had I been able to actually see the goddamn thing.  Instead I had to roll it into my doctor’s office.  Do you have any idea how demoralizing it is to have to make an appointment to see your vagina?  I mean…vagina and I used to be friends.  We were close.  We hung out.  We spent time together.  Now she’s a literal stranger and I have handed her off to a medical professional because there’s clearly nothing else I can do for her at this point.  Well, sure as shit, doctor said I had broken her. 

Doctor: Oh!  I see what the problem is.  Nothing to worry about.  You just have a yeast infection.

Me: What?!  That sounds fucking disgusting.  Stop pretending that this isn’t a big deal.

Doctor:  Oh, it’s really common in pregnant women. 

Me: Does it happen because our children are hogging all of our nutrients?

Doctor: What?

Me: I just think my daughter is stealing all my nutrients and I want her to stop.

Doctor: I mean…she needs them to live.

Me: BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?!

Doctor: You’ll just be a little more tired and you may have a yeast infection from time to time.

Me: Please stop saying that.  It is so gross.

Doctor: Mmmkkk.  Get yourself some Monistat 7.  You’ll be fine.  And be grateful you’re having a healthy baby.

In case you haven’t deduced what’s happening, my doctor has colluded with my offspring in an attempt to kill me.  It’s pretty obvious. 

Let’s just talk about Monistat 7 for a minute.  It is the grossest thing I have ever encountered.  From what I had been able to glean from commercials, I had determined that Monistat 7 was some sort of flowery device that you insert into your vagina which then leads to your husband loving you more?  I just remember seeing pictures of women using this product and then going for long strolls on beaches with men.  Turns out I was dead wrong.  Listen to this shit.  Basically you fill what looks like a plastic syringe full of lotion, you then insert that syringe into your vagina at which point you shoot all of the lotion into your vag cavity.  OMG, I just threw up everywhere.  You then attempt to move on with your daily life but it’s difficult because VAG LOTION IS LITERALLY LEAKING OUT OF YOU AND YOU ARE PREGNANT AND YOU STILL HAVE TO GO TO YOUR JOB EVERY DAY AND YOU ARE ENCOUNTERING MEN AND IT IS LITERALLY THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED AND YOUR UNBORN CHILD IS LAUGHING AT YOU AND SHE IS STILL STEALING ALL YOUR NUTRIENTS!  Seriously, how do people deal with this?  This lasted for seven horrific days.  I cannot believe Husband hasn’t left me yet.  I am fatter than ever and spend all my free time shooting lotion up my twat. 

Needless to say, I was under a lot of stress.  We had just returned from New Orleans where I had managed to rip the flesh of my inner thighs apart by attempting to walk and as soon as we returned I was diagnosed with yeasty vagina.  I was bereft.  I was uncomfortable and tired and sure the world was out to get me.  And obviously by “world” I mean “demonic offspring.” 

I want it to be noted that I legitimately try to not get diseases.  My life mantra is “don’t get diseases.”  My spirit animal is anything that doesn’t have a disease.  I take vitamins, I exercise, I drink water, I smoke.  I basically do everything a healthy person should be doing.  Yet last week, I was walking around naked — Husband’s least favorite activity — when he noticed something was askew.

Husband: What happened to your back?  

Me: Oh God, is this an ass joke?

Husband: No, it looks like you have a rash.

Me: Stop it.

Husband: Come here.  I’m trying to get a picture.

The fact that Husband was trying to get a picture was upsetting for a myriad of reasons: (1) I was naked but he was only trying to capture the image of my rash and was unmoved by my actual naked body; (2) this picture resulted in me literally sexting my doctor and trying to get a diagnosis via text; (3) this strategy worked and the outcome was shingles.  SHINGLES!  I WAS SIX MONTHS PREGNANT AND HAD SOMEHOW GOTTEN FUCKING SHINGLES!!!

I just literally don’t even know what to say.  Shingles is some sort of horrible viral rash that afflicts the elderly and me.  I’m just not even sure where to begin.  I tried to call my doctor for more information and just like every other medical professional I have ever encountered, she was completely useless.

Me: Hi Dr, just wanted to follow-up on our sexts.

Doctor: Please don’t ever do that again.

Me: I get it.  No one likes seeing my naked body.

Doctor: You have shingles.

Me: Right, I heard.  The thing is, what is that?

Doctor: It’s a viral infection.

Me: But why do I have it?

Doctor: It’s usually brought on by a weakened immune system or stress.  Do you feel that you’ve been stressed at all?

Me: IS THAT A JOKE?!  OF COURSE I’VE BEEN STRESSED!  FOR STARTERS, MY ENTIRE SPINE IS FUSING TOGETHER WHICH MEANS I HAVE TO HAVE A BABY LITERALLY RIPPED OUT OF ME WHICH SOUNDS HORRIBLE.  I’M NOT ALLOWED TO DRINK OR SMOKE SO I HAVE NO WAY OF “RELAXING” AND I HAVEN’T SEEN MY VAGINA IN LITERAL WEEKS.  FOR ALL I KNOW I HAVE A DICK THERE NOW SO YEAH, I’D SAY I’M MINORLY STRESSED.

Doctor: I think you may be overreacting.  Lots of people get shingles.

Me:  WHO?!  WHO GETS SHINGLES?!  LITERALLY NO ONE!

Doctor: My grandma had it.

*click*

Obviously, I’m never talking to my doctor again.  This fucking baby is going to have to fall out on its own because clearly my doctor takes me for a motherfucking chump and I don’t want to have anything to do with her.  Ultimately, I had to be on an antiviral medication for 10 days that resulted in horrific stomach pains proving my point that pregnancy is a lot like food poisoning.  Regardless, it’s obvious that my unborn child hates me and gave me shingles.  I can’t wait to meet her.  Once she finds out I’m literally her only food supply, perhaps she’ll treat me with some motherfucking respect.  I’m gonna be a great mom.