Yep. I am not a fan.
Except for like the 12 seconds where he appears in Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle, and I only like him there because that film is hilariously delicious when you really want White Castle. Wait. No one ever really wants White Castle.
At any rate, today I am 30 weeks pregnant, which means the baby is 75% ready to come out. Which means that I am excited and also not entirely sick of being pregnant yet, like I will be at 36 weeks, when the baby is 90% complete.
I don't know what it will be like when I can't feel her kicking all the time.
Hannibal Lecter:
Tell me, Senator: did you nurse Catherine yourself?
Senator Ruth Martin:
What?
Hannibal Lecter:
Did you breast-feed her?
Paul Krendler:
Now wait a minute...
Senator Ruth Martin:
Yes, I did.
Hannibal Lecter:
Toughened your nipples, didn't it?
"Amputate a man's leg and he can still feel it tickling. Tell me, mum,
when your little girl is on the slab, where will it tickle you?"
--Silence of the Lambs
While I realize that's the creepiest movie ever to relate to pregnancy, that's how I feel. Attached and bound forever and ever, not until only age 18 or 21, but really, forever, until I am rotting in the ground. These 9 months endear you to a foreign creature wholly. Oxytocin, a series of amino acids made into a protein, which all hormones are, makes you love the foreign creature, and nurture the entity that will soon bleat and stare at you incomprehensibly for 3 months until she learns how to smile and recognize the units who provided her life.
And her name is Esme, a French name, though no one in the family is French.
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