Friday, January 02, 2009

I made it through the wilderness...

Oh my boobs have been sore. Not just a little sore, but stick straight out pointy Madonna bra sore.

And I've been nauseated.

And constipated.

And headachey.

Thank God I'm not pregnant. I have been voluntarily and permanently sterilized because I do not want to naturally conceive or bear any more children. Enough of my genetics have been thrust into the world. That kind of snip snip has a failure rate though. Minuscule, but a failure rate all the same. I had to wait but I finally got the proof of my impending non-motherhood.

For a while there I was thinking it though. A woman my age, who would otherwise be very very very fertile, has to.

The thought made me depressed. Along with the sore boobs and being backed up I was a sorry sight.

Right before Christmas we dis-assembled the crib which my father built for me an age ago and moved my youngest into a real bed. All three of my children have used this crib, as well as my sister, and four of my other sibling's children. This crib will hold no more babies. It's also a sorry sight. I'm turning it's parts into a drawing desk.

My house is too small for another screaming poop machine.

I do not want to nurse again.

I loathe the idea of that much more laundry.

I like using my bathroom without a little observer asking if I'm going "poo-poo or pee-pee Mommy? Huh, poo-poo pee-pee!"

But those are just the downsides of procreating. The positives I really don't want either even if those positives make all the poop wiping worth it. It sounds wrong to say that you don't want to experience that first toothless smile again, those first steps, those sticky Elmer's glued mother's day cards, the hugs and kisses motivated by nothing other that the most simple and unconditional kinds of love.

Yeah, I don't want that. I'm done. My plate is full. I've salted it and buttered it. When I'm done consuming it I'll be more than happy to sit back, undo my pants and my pointy Madonna bra, and belch loudly with satisfaction.

No, I don't want a little girl.

Others can do more. I can't. I won't. I got fixed. Blessed be I have that choice.

Next week my boobs will deflate back down to their usual non perkiness and that will be such a relief.


  1. I guess not having to worry about pregnancies is another advantage, in addition to the 10% discounts we are supposed to get, of being older.

  2. Well said, Becky.

    Hey, seeing your copyright notice reminds me: It's time for us all to change the 2008 to 2009 in those notices. I'd best get on that.

  3. How will you ever catch up with the Duggars if you stop now? You're only 1/6 of the way there? GO GO GO!!!!

    Yeah, never mind. I'm not doing it either. They're insane, and possibly immoral. I'm not entirely sure.

  4. You know, I'd have more babies if it was just to have babies. I have lovely labor experiences. I just don't want more childraising.

    So, I'm up for delivering babies for millionaires and celebrities. I already have the stretch marks and loose sense of modesty.

    Did you watch 20/20 tonight too? I'm wondering why the hell I didn't have an orgasm during childbirth. I feel gypped.

    And Orange, I'm on that right now.

  5. I did not watch 20/20. I didn't have an orgasm during childbirth. What I had wasn't nearly so romantic and someone else got to clean it up.


  6. I'm sorry. I'm laughing so hard right now that I'm crying.

  7. I had an orgasm during childbirth.

    I was banging the candy striper at the time.

  8. Darn, i thought we were going to see the stick staight out pointed visual :P

    LOL @ banging the candy striper.

    The nurse at the hospital almost had an orgasm after our second son was born when i served her champaigne.


  9. Screaming poop machine huh? That describes Mr.Man more than my four man vaginal bob-sled team.

    I dunno if my getting fixed would take care of that or not. Mayhaps if he'd get fixed it might quiet him down a bit.
    He'd still poop a lot though...


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