"Saying there are too many children is like saying there are too many flowers" --Michelle Duggar
Pardon me, while I call BULLSHIT you crazy ass mother of NINETEEN HUMANS!!!! Flowers have like a one month time span, tops. Crap, even my flowers can't seem to make it past a week. But children? They will suck you dry FOREVER. How dare you compare children with flowers. You see, this is my fourth and definitely my last and no one is happier about this decision than my flimsy-mesh-like uterus.
In fact, my uterus is pretty pissed right now. It's temperamental, it's painful and it's out to get me. It all began when I reached my third trimester and my doctor very non-chalantly mentions that he's diagnosing me with AMA. And I shit you not, for a nano second I thought rock-on, I've got an awesome taste in music and I'm sure the American Music Association would love to know that I....
Wait a second.
"What exactly is AMA?" I asked.
And his horrific response was "Advanced Maternal Age."
And I nearly body tackled him to the ground. I mean it's one thing that I already feel like Jabba the Hut but to basically call me a geriatric Jabba the Hut was just WRONG. He even prescribed me with a twice weekly non stress test because of it. And every time I went, a nurse would always ask me why I was there and I'd have to mutter under my breath, A-M-A, all defeated and shit. That's of course, after I told the nurse I didn't hear her question because my hearing aid isn't working so well. Uugggh! Don't these doctors know that 38 is like the new 24????
But back to my uterus.
85% of the time, I'm a pregnant rockstar. Constantly in motion, keeping up at a pace that I'm proud of, minimizing couch time as much as I can and getting things done! And then there's the extra 15% of the time where I would rather slowly fork my eyes out then take another godforsaken step. Which is exactly what happened when celebrating the other night. My awesome sister and dear friend Tiffany schlepped me out for a girls night in hopes to recreate the awesomeness of our last 2010 pre-baby outing, Girls Gone Wild.
Our dinner was lovely. Lovely in the sense that we each consumed about 1700 calories in under 40 minutes. Our fancy dinner reservation was at 5:30 and we had barely finished licking the appetizer plate (literally. we lose all manners when we're childless and hungry) before our main courses arrived. And none of us even had a chance to politely burp under our breath before the check was handed to us.
It was 6:15. We all kind of stared at each other with the what the hell do we do now look?
Thankfully, we were at Oakbrook Shopping Center and not some awful Home Depot strip mall. A night of shopping and browsing and laughing and talking and ENJOYING EACH OTHER'S COMPANY sounded like a dream date.
We hit up Anthropologie first and my sister and Tiffany were off galavanting while I hid in the jewelry department, sadly the only section that would fit. I mean come on, hobbling around stores when you're 39 weeks pregnant is just downright embarrassing.
And that's when my uterus struck.
First, it was a mild cramping while I was walking. No biggie, I can handle this I thought. Then I noticed my sister and Tiffany laugh under their breaths when they turned around to see a traffic jam of people stuck behind us. And by us, I mean ME, the girl who is walking at a SNAILS PACE. With every step I took, I'd get a sharp pain. Almost as if my uterus was saying
"You feel that Gina? That's what you get for putting me through this a 4th time"
OUCH, ANOTHER ONE.
"And that's for the up-all-night, loud and unruly tenant that's been living here for 9 months"
CRAP. ONE MORE STEP. OUCH!
"And it smells like shit in here."
ONE STEP MORE. AHH, AHH, ACHOO!
"Oh, will you look at that, did I just make you tinkle?"
I mean I could barely walk. I don't know if it was the food or if it was complete retaliation but it hurt like hell. I kept making sideline pit stops to pretend to "enjoy the beautiful view" but shit-damn, the entire mall was under construction making me look like an even bigger idiot.
It was one of those nights that will forever remind me of this pregnancy. Thank you Gabrielle and Tiffany for putting up with me and allowing me to sit every 5 minutes.
Now to bring this story completely full circle, (OMG) HAVE YOU SEEN THIS COMMERCIAL?????
Let me preface it by admitting that I watch very specific shows on television and hardly ever watch TV when it's live--so if I've seen this commercial then you know you're in trouble Shannon. Come to think of it, I don't know what's worse, Shannon Doherty accepting this gig or envisioning a board room of executives wracking their brains until someone finally pounds their fists to the table and proclaims, "I've got it!!! Shannon Doherty!"
Less than 48 hours people, it's happening!!!