Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Sunday
Jun222008

1 to the 30

KA-POW! 130 pounds, bitches. Heaviest I've ever been in life. Are you supposed to gain 7 pounds in the first trimester? Although my pants still fit, it's of the just-came-out-of-the-dryer-need-pliers-to-zip-up variety. Fuck it, I sometimes think. I don't need to be one of these snazzy, pregnant ladies, flitting about in some fitted tank and leggings. I'll just go to Wal-Mart and get me a big muumuu, Mrs. Roper-style. If I'm gonna be fat healthfully pregnant let's do this up right, no? I haven't bought new clothes since we moved from NYC so it ain't like I gave a shit before. I don't know what it is but the thought of trying on a bunch of stuff makes my head hurt. And I have panic attacks at dropping more than fifty bucks on a clothing item. Spending $200 on plants for my backyard doesn't seem to phase me though. Does this mean I am old and boring? Or a nature-loving non-conformist?

Oh! Almost forgot! After arguing about...I forget what...in the drive-thru of Betos, our favorite Mexican restaurant, I decided to divorce. We'll see if it sticks.

Another thing: I reserve the right to change my mind at any time and become a purty pregnant lady and buy lots of clothes.