Trauma is some real sh*t

I’ve been trying to write the Preggo in Paris blog post for like 2+ weeks.  I just couldn’t do it. Sure I’ve been busy with work and all kinds of other things, but that wasn’t it.  I just, literally, couldn’t do it.  I’ve been reflecting on why that is and it all stems back to trauma. While I am trying to enjoy the pregnancy, and have been, that trauma never really goes away.  It just sort of lingers in the back of my mind an pops in, at sometimes the most inopportune times.


  • I still look at the toilet paper every time I pee.  Every. Single. Time.  Not doing this on purpose, it just happens automatically.
    • One day I was wearing a red drapey shirt, when I stood up from the toilet I went into immediate terror because the reflection of the color of my shirt made the toilet look red.  This is my life people, on the daily.
  • I feel like I am wearing a costume.  Like it is just going to go away at some point and stop being real.  Even though I am feeling tons of kicks and punches and some full body rolls, there is still this doubt that hangs out that just won’t go away.
  • My mom is anti shower.  She has been my whole life, didn’t even have a shower herself.  Has always been a “don’t buy the bassinet before the baby arrives type of gal”. And, for a million obvious reasons, I totally get that. But, since we’ve been through so much, I also feel the desire to celebrate this exciting time with family and friends. However, there is a little piece of me that feels like if I am presumptuous enough or greedy/selfish with wanting some type of celebration, that it will all just disappear suddenly.  My practical self knows this is not how things work, but my emotional self has 100% taken over practicality these days.
  • If I wake up on my back, and don’t immediately feel the baby move…doom.  I’m supposed to sleep on my side, and have constructed some type of insane pillow fort to keep me that way. But, no matter what, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I’ve somehow wriggled to my back. (Which is particularly weird since I didn’t ever really sleep on my back before.)  But I automatically go to “oh no how long have I been like this? Has the blood flow been diminished?” It’s a curse.
  • We went to a baby shower a couple weeks ago.  There were four of us there in the crew who were pregnant.  Of course, we anticipated people would want to take pictures because the odds of that are so rare.  So, I was ready for it.  But when it actually came time for it, all the while knowing is should be in the photo, I was still standing up there like “I am not sure why I am here right now”. It is a weird in and out of body experience at the same time.  But the pic is really cute tho. 🙂


These are just some examples of my weird ass brain.  Now of course there have also been fun moments that I have certainly been enjoying.  Picking out cute things for the registry and nursery has been cool, albeit slightly overwhelming.  But, more fun than not.  We also did a “Meet the Doctors” event at the hospital where you get to hear from the panel of on call doctors who might deliver you, because let’s be honest, the likelihood of you getting your actual doctor are pretty slim.  And I would much prefer meeting you in a conference room for the first time versus when I am spread eagle.  Then we got to take a tour and they gave us the rundown about where to go and what to do when It Is Time. It was actually pretty fun and informative.  They even offer this stork dinner (for an extra charge) where you can order a fancy dinner with tablecloth and candles to have on the night before you go home.  Which I think is an adorable rip off scheme to eat crappy hospital food, but I wouldn’t do it anyway in because all I want is a turkey sub from Dags.  But, nevertheless, cute.

Other things I love. Maternity shorts.  Everyone should wear these, they are magical.  Nursing bras. Not sure I will ever want to wear any other type of bra, #sorrykenny. Not sucking in for photos, because you just can’t.  Haha.  It is quite liberating, not gonna lie. Needing to sit down and put my feet up, and not allowing myself to feel guilty for it. Bomb. Kenny feeling the baby move for the first time.  That was dope AF.

And, whether it is my grateful mindset or just pure luck (lol that seems ironic in this post), but I have really felt pretty good.  I know some people have really uncomfortable and sometimes painful pregnancies.  Aside from retiring my wedding rings and gladiator sandals due to some cute swelling, I can’t really complain much. I also think I probs wouldn’t complain anyway, given everything, but, that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, Preggo in Paris will come eventch.  Once I get my head right. And by right I mean distract myself from trauma brain long enough to write it.