Don't read this if you're pregnant. It will only make you more irritable than you already are. Symptoms will include not wanting to talk to me for the rest of your life. That said, this post is for you.
I realize you're huge and miserable. You've likely spent at least some time vomiting over the past few months. You're uncomfortable with your swollen feet and arms and neck and whatever else. I also realize you're full of hormones that make you irrationally angry or sad sometimes. I am more familiar with that condition than I'd like to admit.
And yet, with all of your sufferings, I still can't let go of the fact that some of you constantly whine about your condition. First of all, who decided to get you knocked up? I'd vote for the person who stopped taking your birth control pills. For you "accidental pregnancy" people, just keep reading.
Second-of-ly, what's with all the smugness? Back me up Garfunkel and Oates:
Third, I'd like to remind you that you're carrying a little tiny human being in your abdomen. This is your chance to get massively fat and have the whole world think you're the cutest, most special thing in the entire world. You are all massive a-holes for not believing them and being happy about it. Stop complaining about gaining weight. It happens when you have a miraculous little being growing in your miraculous little uterus.
Think of the alternative. Plenty of us ladies grow to gargantuan proportions from hormones or whatever without the amazingly wonderful excuse of having a baby on the way. We just blow up and get no screaming pooping prize out of it. If you think we're lucky about the no-prize thing, think again.
People pay thousands of dollars to get just as fat, nauseated, bloated, and miserable as you are. When you've been through hell just to get pregnant, then you can complain. Until then, please shut up about how every comment anyone makes about your pregnancy bothers you so.
Get over your swollen feet. Be thankful for such a wondrous source of belly fat. You can get all whiny when you've already given birth and are still all fat. What I'm saying is that you're so freaking lucky I refuse to hear one more complaint out of your prenatal-vitamin-eating mouths. It's like rich people complaining that their duck is slightly overdone.
Just be glad you have a freaking duck.
On a side note, April told me recently that she could tell what week of my cycle I was on by the tone of my posts. Yes April, this is week three. Except I don't get a hormone break in another while, because I just have to add more hormones. This blog may become completely unreadable. In fact, the local authorities may want to preemptively lock me up. And I haven't even started on the injections yet.