resorting to bad parody

[psocoptera]

I feel so awkward complaining when there are so many people who would *love* to be able to be 39-and-a-half weeks pregnant. But the problems of privilege are still problematic for the privileged, you know? One of my hips hurts no matter what I do, I can't walk more than a few steps without charley-horse-like spasms in my inner thigh, and I am running out of cope. I just want to hold my baby and know that it made it out okay. I want to hit bottom on the downhill part, however low that's going to be, and know that after that I'm healing instead of declining. I wouldn't mind pushing this thing out before it gets any enormous-er, either.

I know that Dr. Seuss parody is mostly painful, but I am stuck on this couch and had no internet for a large part of the day. It's this or fanfic. Fic in the next post.


My hips did not work
And my legs were too weak
So I sat in the house
All that long, long, long week.

I sat there with baby
My internal neighbor.
And I said, "How I wish
I could go into labor!"

Too sore to go out
(And shaped just like a ball)
So I sat in the house.
I did nothing at all.

So all I could do was to
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
Sit!
And I did not like it.
Not one little bit.

Could something go clench?
Could something go ouch?
Could something please rescue me
Off of this couch?

If only I knew of
A series of actions
Reliably known for
Producing contractions...

Comments

[eclectic-boy.livejournal.com]

Art is the result of suffering... so I expect by next week you'll be tossing off sestinas right and left. Best of luck!