Pregnancy Problems: Just Let It Rip

Let’s just keep it real, cause that’s what we do ’round these here parts.


It’s an issue.

I’m probably passing gas as I type this (I’m not, but it’s possible)

I mean… every time I think about how squished up my small and large intestines are in there and how this dude is tap dancing and putting pressure on my stomach… I just…

I burp or it… comes out of the other end.

Because I teach 2nd grade saying fart is so funny, I have to say pass gas. God forbid you use the word fart or **gasp** someone ACTUALLY FARTS!! The best part of teaching 2nd grade and being gassy is that if I let one rip in the classroom, they just blame it on each other. (Shh, teacher secret)

Seriously, though, I usually burp a lot anyway, but with the slowing of my digestive system- the flatulence has been raised to an all-time high.

I’m really surprised that I haven’t farted and burped my husband and child right out of our home.

I dread being in any enclosed space with people for fear that I will let one rip and everyone will die. Burping is easy to hide, but farts? The silent killer? Not so much. Any faculty meeting that involves sitting in small rooms with doors closed? Make me nervous… “Please don’t have gas, please don’t have gas” is usually my mantra all the way to the meeting. I also try to sit close to the door, just in case I need to excuse myself. Ya know, for pregnancy reasons.

Cause err… pregnant women need to pee.

Yeah, that’s it. Pee.

Part of wanting my body back includes wanting my food to digest at a normal rate and not take 3 or 4 hours just for 1 cheeseburger and 1/2 a carton of medium fries to digest. I also would like to be able to burp without semi-vomiting in my mouth and without tasting each meal for hours after. Really, baby in my womb, it’s not very appealing- lemme tell ya.

I know that discussing bodily functions isn’t very ladylike, but I’m really  not concerned about my “lady” status in the world. My ability to push out a baby makes me a lady- the end.

Nobody told me prior to having Pea that being pregnant meant an increase in my gassiness. I was expecting it this time around, but that didn’t (doesn’t) make it any more pleasant. If my toots smelled like flowers and roses and vomiting in your own mouth when you burp was the new trend- I guess it’d be fine.

But it’s not.

So, excuse me.

No pun intended… well, actually. Yeah. I meant it.

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