I know. I know. Let me just got ahead and give you a moment to freak the freak out. (((MOMENT)))
Right now, based on the headline, you are probably LOSING your shizz trying to figure out if either Trent OR Shannon is on bump watch right now. I mean, let’s not just assume the obvious here. It’s 2013! Either one of us could be pregnant, or expecting, or whatever. Don’t just assume that it’s the GIRL writer– that is sooooo 2001, and sooo close-minded of you. As a woman and as a feminist, I personally am offended by any one of you assuming that I, Shannon– mother of two– am the obvious choice for the pregnant PITNB writer. Like, c’mon. Just because I’m always talking about sex, and just because I have like no recent pictures of myself from the waist down, it DOESN’T mean I’ve been concealing my pregnancy from the public eye for the past SEVEN 1/2 MONTHS! That would be insane. It would also be insane for me to have a third child right now. I just got my almost 3 year-old out of pull-ups, I’m not married or even, like, remotely close to it, and there’s no way that I could have been pregnant this whole time because that means my pregnancy buddies would have been Kate Middleton and friggen Kanye West’s babymama. And there’s no way I could have kept that to myself. There’s just no way. Also, no way I went to a Dipset concert during my first trimester. Right? Right.
LMAO! OMG!!! I am hella pregnant right now y’all. And I still have time/energy to occasionally put on eyeliner = WINNING.
Okay, but seriously. I know you have questions– how the eff could I keep this news from you? How effing pregnant am I, exactly? Is this baby gonna be rocking blue or pink (or both… what)? Do I have a name picked out? Is that name a nautical direction, or a fruit of some kind? And did I or did I not vomit watching Justin Bieber’s Eminem cover yesterday? Allow me to answer all these and other important questions about my glorious, epic, semi-surprising third pregnancy.
How the eff could I keep this news from you: First off, I’ve never had to publicly declare a pregnancy before and it is hilarious. There were sooo many things I wanted to be able to tell you guys when I announced this. I wanted to be able to say it was awesome and perfect and I’d just moved my family into a fabulous 4 bedroom home, and I totally wasn’t freaking out about the fact that I have NO baby clothes because I’m constantly passing baby clothes along (convinced that I’m totally not getting prego again anytime soon). I wanted to be able to tell you that I was in a perfect relationship with the perfect partner and we were so effing happy and perfect it was going to make you sick.
So yeah. No. Not quite. But, after more searching than I care to think about, I did find a much bigger apartment right down the street from Jonovan’s school, which is awesome. I still don’t have infant clothes, but it’s fine. I’ll get them, and probably end up accidentally buying something Miranda Kerr bought for Flynn since I now have proof that our kids dress alike. I’m still not in a perfect relationship, but I can say that I have the perfect partner in crime/babymaking. I can say this, not because he’s perfect or because I’m perfect (or even, like, perfectly compatible… jury’s still out on that… LMAO… don’t you DARE judge me, I’m pregnant), but because when we get together this happens:
All that to say, as with any time in my life, there’s plenty to freak out about, but there’s waayyyy more to not freak out about. I try to choose the not freaking out part as much as I can. It makes life happier. And it’s better for my skin :)
Sidenote: Jonovan and Jovelle are CREEPY excited about this baby. Jovelle is fully convinced that the baby is going to come out and start playing football with him, immediately. And Jonovan– pro big brother that he is– is just ready to put in work. He has expressed some concerns about being able to take care of both babies (his little brother, and new sibling). Like, how’s he gonna hold them both, he wants to know. All valid concerns.
How effing pregnant am I, exactly: I am exactly 30 weeks and one day. My official due date is October 7, 2013 which is another reason I put off telling you guys this! Can you imagine how loooong and arduous this bump watch would have been if you knew back in JANUARY that I was pregs?! Y’all would have been calling me Jessica Simpson all over the place! I couldn’t have that, and I couldn’t put you through that. Now we can have the shortest, sweetest, final trimester, 10-week bump watch ever. Isn’t that wayyy more fun?! Yes, I know it is. I also didn’t want to steal too much shine from Kate Middleton and Kanye’s babymoms. Now that they’ve both popped, there can be one last EPIC bump watch of the year… LMAO.
P.S./Fun fact: My baby was totally conceived on my favorite holiday, New Year’s Day. Just thought you’d like to know. What I was doing. To ring in 2013. LMAOOOooooo. Oh boy.
Your answer to the pink/blue question is on the next page! GAhhhhhhhhhhh!