The delivery wasn’t as horrible as people often say it is. I’ve even heard stories of how some girls poop as they’re pushing their baby out. Not me. On the second time I was asked to push, the baby came out of me like he was on a slip-and-slide. Seriously, either I did a kickass job at pushing or that baby was completely over being inside me. Maybe I should expect him to stop replying to my texts too. But in all seriousness, I’m so glad the baby is fine and I’m done with this annoying pregnancy. Being pregnant was literally the worst five hours of my life!
I say literally because up until five hours ago I didn’t know I was pregnant. I know this sounds like some TLC bullshit. I know you’re probably wondering if this kid’s father is my cousin. Well, joke’s on you, I don’t even know who the father is. I bet you feel pretty stupid now! But yeah, I came to the ER because I had a shooting pain in my stomach that kept coming and going. The pain was so bad that I went in tears to ask my manager to let me leave early. Of course my manager was hesitant to let me go, her name is Linda after all. That’s the quintessential name for a manager who’s sole purpose in life is to be a manager. Like, take it down a notch bitch, you only get two dollars an hour more than me. But back to my Lifetime movie, those shooting pains were actually contractions. Before you start judging my cluelessness let me explain why I didn’t know I was pregnant:
- I’m very irregular
- My periods are not like those in the Tampax commercials. Kill Bill would be a better, slightly more graphic metaphor for my periods. Also, I could compare them to the scheduling of Rick and Morty, where you get an episode on a Sunday in April at midnight, and then the next one in June on a Thursday at 3PM. I loathe those bitches who brag about being cycle sisters. I never pay attention to the scheduling of my periods, so missing a few of them was imminent.
- My weight fluctuates AF
- My closet looks like a yard sale. I have jeans in sizes 5 to 12 that I use in various stages of the year depending on the season. I’ve come to terms that I might look like Kate Upton in the spring but celebrate Hanukah looking like Rebel Wilson. I attributed my weight gain to PSL (Pumpkin Spice Latte) season and the McRib being back.
- My Nuvaring brings all the boys to the yard
- I am a modern woman who had very progressive parents. As soon as I became sexually active, I got put on birth control. Once I got out of my parents’ insurance, I looked for other alternatives and the ring worked for me. I used the Nuvaring to prevent pregnancy and condoms to prevent STDs. Except of course for when I didn’t. I might have omitted the condom a few times when it wasn’t available and only after the dude passed my STD questionnaire. The doctor says that the Nuvaring was probably not correctly placed which caused its ineffectiveness. After I sort all of this out, I’m totes suing Nuvaring!
- I didn’t have no cliché pregnancy symptoms
- I never had morning sickness. I didn’t feel the beauty of motherhood within me. My skin wasn’t glowing in fact, my skin was that of a teenage boy who lived on a basement. And thankfully, I didn’t feel the need to take Instagram shots of me holding my belly with an inspirational quote.
My parents and friends are on the way to overwhelm me with more questions, comments, and concerns. But right now I’m only trying to remember who I shacked seven months ago (again, the baby couldn’t even stay committed to me for a full nine months. He reminds me my ex). According to my pictures, texts, and Tinder messages, I narrowed my baby daddy search to six guys. All of them douchey, all of them self-absorbed, all of them one-night stands. See, I don’t want to find a guy to start a family with and raise baby Kanye with. I just want someone to hold responsible for ruining my non-refundable trip to Cabo.
Manny: What I know about Manny is that he calls himself an entrepreneur and a DJ. I know! He sells workout products on social media and hands out crappy business cards in club gigs that he probably made on Vista Print with the promo code TV10. Not one of my best decisions, but he was a good lay. He asked me to stay, but his futon was very uncomfortable and I had work in the morning so I accidently stopped replying to his messages.
Andrew: During our date, Andrew mentioned the words “law,” “lawyer,” and “educated” about twenty times. I get when people are proud of their careers, but this fool masked his lack of personality with the degree his parents bought him. When we were having sex he kept calling me a “filthy little slut.” I was into it for the couple of times until it was clear, he thought my biological name was Filthy Little Slut McKinney. We laid awkwardly in bed afterwards, he tried to make small talk about his law firm, and my Uber driver came and saved the day. We never talked afterwards.
Tyrese: Tyrese was the first Asian guy I’ve ever had sex with. Just kidding, he was black. I really threw you off for a second, didn’t I? I love challenging racial norms. But anyway, I’m just realizing that oddly-enough baby Kanye isn’t black. I guess the search narrows down to five. I know realize I shouldn’t have kept all of this to myself. Next.
Beard guy: I met Beard Guy at a club. He is about 6’4, stocky build, and with a beard that makes him look like a member of Duck Dynasty. Totally not my type, but I was feeling adventurous. We kept having a drunk conversation at the club until we took it to my apartment. Once he took off his beanie, I realized he was bald, but I was a trooper and I wasn’t going to prevent that from closing the deal. The sex was the equivalent of going to a froyo place and getting plain topped with raisins and nuts. He kept asking me if he was hurting me. EVERY. FIVE. SECONDS. He threw me off my game, we finished and laid in awkward silence. He wouldn’t leave and when I woke up, he called me “sleepy head” and had breakfast ready. It was a nightmare. He kept calling me by my name and too much time had passed for me to ask for his without any awkwardness so, he got saved in my phone as “Beard Guy.”
Mark: Mark works at a gas station by my apartment. One night I went to buy ice cream at around three in the morning. I was wearing short shorts, a Ramones shirt (I don’t know their music, I just liked it on the Forever21 mannequin), and a messy bun. He looked at me as if I was the hottest girl ever. He looked like he was on parole, so we ended up hooking up in the CircleK restroom. Needless to say, I go to 7-11 for all my late-night snack needs now.
Joe: And finally we get to Joe “Listen-To-My-Podcast” Gamez. I also met him through Tinder where he seemed well-adjusted and interesting. Turns out he was pretty into himself, mentioning his “accomplishments” (putting together a podcast, getting his 17th tattoo, becoming a Gold member at Starbucks) every time the conversation got remotely quiet. The sex was extraordinary. And here’s the kicker, I was willing to withstand his annoying personality, in exchange for more sex, but he, Mr. “content-wise, my podcast should really be on top of the iTunes charts!” had the nerve to ghost me. I’m still not over that.
Now that I narrowed down the options, the most sensitive way to deal with this would be to think it over and then contact them one-by-one to figure out the future. Well, that’s not how I roll. I texted each one of them and asked to meet for coffee. All of them (but CircleK guy, because of work) agreed to meet me this Friday at 6pm for some coffee. This should be interesting. I should mention the fact that I really haven’t planned this out.
TO BE CONTINUED.
The next part of this story will be posted next Tuesday 😉