Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Four more weeks.

Four more weeks to go.
Four more weeks till' my vag explodes with the cutest chubbiest baby girl full of hair.
Four more weeks till' I can retire my mom bush.
Four more weeks till' we are a family of four.
Four more weeks until my hands stop going numb.
Four more weeks until I can stop worrying about slicing my asshole of while shaving...due to hands going numb at the most inopportune times.
Four more weeks of pissing my pants regularly.
Four more weeks of feeling like my pelvis and muff bone are being tapped with a hammer.
Four more weeks for a Bloody Mary.
Four more weeks till' missionary sex where I don't even have to move is an option.
Four more weeks until I have all the energy to play with my son that we need me to have.
Four more weeks until I can stop feeling guilty about not having it.

Four more weeks until I will never feel a life forming inside of me again.
Four more weeks until my son transitions from only child to big brother.
Four more weeks of feeling every emotion in the entire spectrum about all of the things that will happen at the end of, or will cease to exist at the end of these next four weeks.

EXHAUSTION.




 

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