My jeans made me throw up
The other day my jeans made me sick.
Not these jeans.
These jeans are like Barnaby’s Big Top. I could fit me, Baby and a family of foxes in these jeans.
No, it was my jeans from my last pregnancy that made me throw up.
I was super excited to finally find them – up in a cupboard, vacuum-sealed with baby blankets and breastfeeding bras, lurking innocuously – my H&M Mama size 10s which saw me through the last months of carrying Bunkeroo no problemo.
When I got them on, I figured the suspicious feeling of suffocation was due to some light shrinkage from many washes and possibly from the vacuum sealing… but in reality I am Just Too Damned FAT Already – with 10 weeks to go.
After wearing the H&Ms for one hour and eating lunch in them, everything came back up.
Not pretty, my darlings.
Chicken cacciatore and spaghetti is never pretty on the return. Bunkeroo was oblivious to my discomfort, merely commenting on how ‘Delicious’ the spaghetti was as she ‘soda slurped’ it – sucked up each strand with vampiric glee.
Anyway, I’m back in my industrial, bought-online, FLARED, also size 10 La Redoute jeans that I may not dare wash for the next 2 1/2 months, or wear vacuuming, in case they make me sick, too.
Back to the writing now. Just wanted to share Too Much Info.
P.S. Some difficulties with writing + late stages of pregnancy:
1. Stomach too fat to reach keyboard without back pain.
2. Frequent need to get up and walk or legs fall asleep.
3. Brain not working how it ought to.
4. Desire to go nap awfully strong.
5. Must push aside thoughts of giving birth (in the merde, i.e. in France) and all that that may entail and keep Book in mind, not Baby.
6. Did I mention back pain? Add neck pain and abdominal pain from being kicked constantly. Or poked in the cervix.
7. Looooooomming deadlines creating mild panic attacks and writer’s block.
It may be easier to Dictate the rest of this Draft to a minion from the only armchair I can sit in, the good ol’ IKEA Poäng. I just have to find a minion.