I’m definitely in early labor. But this is me. What the fuck does that even mean. Does that mean an eon of suffering? Naw. I have an induction scheduled for the 14th. And no interest in laboring long and hard so I’ll be done delivering on the 14th either with a vaginal birth or a c-section so there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
But today has been shit. Twice early today I got this horrible shooting/stabbing pain in my lower right abdomen. It hurt so fucking bad I started screaming and kicking out uncontrollably. That’s not usual for me with contractions. But it hasn’t happened again. I messaged a friend who is a mom of many who worked in an OB office for years and asked her for advice. She said, “Hrm. I wouldn’t necessarily call this second but if it happens a third time you have to call the advice nurse and you should probably go in.” It didn’t happen a third time. So I sit at home.
I have felt like a fucking psycho hose beast all day. I can’t tell if this is just a feeling inside of me or if I have genuinely been nasty to everyone all day. I’m randomly crying. I hurt everywhere.
Ok, I’m seriously fucking pissed about this. I have this major remission of fibromyalgia pain during the pregnancy. That ended yesterday. My entire body is an explosion of pain and I would like to rip someones fucking head off so that I can piss down their throat because that is the only thing that sounds fun when I hurt this badly.
“Is it all happening again” – Godfather 3
love. sex. family. community. health. history. awareness. california woo. having your place. pain. commitment. relaxation. controlled vs uncontrolled bloodlines. queer vs heteronormative dynamics. 36 years old–at the middle of life?
You are not going to die. Neither am I, motherfucker.
But there will have to be a passage. And those sometimes hurt like a mother fucker. Don’t fear. That shit just makes you clench up and everything hurts more
Do you rise through your own merits or through the recommendation of those with merit?
Know your history.
In medias res.
I do not aspire to be that which is looked at.
I shun beauty.
What am I then if I am not a vain motherfucker?
I want to be known and understood. Which is so much more than to be looked at. To be looked at to be is to be projected upon. I want to change you.
That is what art aims to do. It aims to change that which looks upon it.
Like a pond. Like a bodyguard.
Joints. Connection. Pain.
cognitive dissonance. the misspelling reveals the flaw.
thank you autocorrect. even if I fucking hate you.
home. any. minute.