You know those inspiring videos and letters people write to their 16-year-old selves? (Dear 16-year-old me. You won't marry your high school boyfriend and run off together to do theater in NYC. Even though you will still be straightening your hair religiously at 30 and covering zits, you won't care as much about the outcome. And all those girls who were supremely popular in high school and were kinda mean? They aren't nearly as cool at 30, and are far less accomplished than you will be. Stop worrying about being valedictorian. No one in the real world cares..etc). Well, here is just a PS note to my self from August 2012.
Dear pre-pregnant Ali at 32 years old,
You know those few pairs of really cute small undies with the bejazzled "PINK" on the lace waistband? First, what were you thinking; bejeweled/jazzled? Clearance isn't worth making it feel like you are posturing around like a tween with writing on her sweat pant bum. And haven't you learned those underwear are overpriced and understitched?
Second, pitch the undies STAT once you get a positive pregnancy test; trying to squeeze into them at 21+ weeks pregnant does nothing for your confidence or appreciation of the pregnant body.
Additionally, the jewels will just dig into your side and haunches...specifically where you get shot up every Friday with progesterone. It's like a cilce (hairshirt). But underwear. And instead of inducing discomfort as a sign of repentance and atonement, it's causing you pain as a sign of the excessive weight you've gained but are denying during this pregnancy. And you will contemplate free-vagina-ing it at work because the physical and emotional pain is unbearable come 1pm.
Warm regards, girl. Remember...you are only a few weeks away from those free granny-netted underwear that you secretly both love and hate.
This is my lead up to a post I am contemplating doing--after I rub salve in the jewel bruises I have inflicted--on how I have come to the realization that I don't love being pregnant. Before you get all huffy, you are going to have to hear me out...in a few days. Until then, I give you license to talk behind my back. I'll be too busy nursing my undie wounds.