Something weird happened when I became pregnant. I started hating a lot of pregnant women. As in a lot.
Well, not all. But the ones who are so hung up on their pregnancy & symptoms that they need to share & complain about every single damn thing to the entire universe.
I was weird. I was crazy. I started calling them Prinsesa ng mga Kabuntisan (Pregnant Princess).
I mean:
- Going on and on about their pregnancy cravings in Facebook when they are barely even 3 weeks pregnant. Girl, matakaw ka lang talaga. Ginagamit mo lang ang pagkabuntis mo para lumamon.
- Complaining about being tired and sleepy all the time. Wag mong gamin ang pagkabuntis mo para maawa sa yo lahat ng tao.
- Complaining about headaches and fatigue. Utang na loob. Lahat tayo dinadaan yan. Lupus, gusto mo?
- Taking a month leave from work because, oh, they experienced morning sickness twice in their first month? Seryoso ka?
- Hashtags for every tweet or FB post about their pregnancy. May social media manager ka, ‘te?
- Gender Reveal Activities. Asking friends to participate in guessing the gender of their baby, giving prizes, organizing their big gender reveal party. Girl, walang may paki-alam sa gender ng baby mo. Basta tao yan, masaya kami para sa yo.
Of course, later on I realized I was sounding like a bitter and crazy woman, always grumbling about all the pregnant princesses that I even remotely encounter.
I was probably a tad jealous, too, because I felt as if I don’t have the right to celebrate nor complain, with all these other health complications, responsibilities at work, etc.
Right now, I’m already in my third trimester — when all the discomforts of pregnancy are at its highest level. Yes, expect me to complain as loudly as I can. Because I gave everyone six months of silence. It’s my frickin turn.
I will be spoiled. I will refuse to drive. I will demand food.
Royal baby lang po ang peg.