My birthday is on the same day as the Festival Of Enormous Changes At The Last Minute - apt, as last minute could be my middle name, if middle names were based on character attributes instead of being regular names given at birth.
My birthday is also National Bicarbonate Of Soda Day, but to be honest I always use baking powder instead. Yes, the internet has told me I'm not allowed to do that, but I haven't had any disastrous results yet. Anyway, what national day is your birthday?
P.S. That site may end up being my go-to for blog inspiration, because NaBloPoMo keeps giving me guest prompts from Ricki Lake, and they're all about passion to achieve or something. I have no passion to achieve.
We had our last swimming lesson today, which meant videotaping and underwater photography! I believe the instructor puts it all up on the internet and then sends us a password, so if I manage to get copies, I will surely show you...
Except it's probably not going to be a super fun video, as Henry cried quite a lot. Every time he went under. He's never cried in the pool before, and he's usually fine with going underwater, but for some reason today was not his day. I think he may have been scared of the guy doing the videoing - he wore some big goggles and had a camera strapped to his forehead as well as a camera that he held. I can see how that might be terrifying if you met it underwater...
I saw an essay on my sister's tumblr, reposted from a lady who basically said that being pregnant made her even more pro-choice than she already was. I figured I had to link to it, and talk about it, because I remember thinking the exact same thing when I was pregnant. I had a blissfully easy pregnancy, compared to what I've heard from many other people - minimal sickness, no major health problems, easily accessible and affordable (read: FREE) healthcare, supportive family, stable homelife and loving husband - the works.
Henry was totally wanted and planned and awesome, but even then, I still felt tired and sick sometimes. And achy and moody and swollen up and hungry and angry and teary and everything else that comes with growing a baby inside you. And although I totally loved the little dude even before he was born, it was really surreal and weird to feel him kicking around in there.
So I couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to go through all that weirdness and grossness and discomfort if you were carrying a foetus that would grow into a baby that you couldn't take care of, for whatever reason. That would suck. Big time.
I think what I am trying to say is that being pregnant made me feel like I had very little control over my body - it did some pretty weird and scary things. I got pregnant on purpose, so I chose to live in the out-of-control body for nine months. Being forced against your will to live in the out-of-control body for nine months sounds pretty unbearable to me.
So yeah, pregnancy made me more pro-choice. It's a thing.
Edited to add / clarify / justify:
Gosh darn it I am bad at expressing opinions. I just lay awake in bed for half an hour with the scared 'am I in trouble?' feeling in my stomach. Why? Am I worried I will disappoint someone? Will they hate me if they disagree? And if I'm so worried, why not just delete it and start again?
I am not precisely sure of the answers to any of those, but I do know that I'm not going to delete and start again despite my worries. These are true things that I felt (and feel) strongly about. So I'll leave it up and hope that you get where I'm coming from.