Though it’s typically my preference to get in a morning post, it’s probably to your benefit that I’m sneaking a late one in tonight. Though it wasn’t my intention to dodge the daytime readers, I just don’t feel like the majority of you will appreciate tonight’s variety of honesty.
So I’m just going to say it.
I miss my morning poo.
Now that I’m pregnant, the smell of coffee (much less the taste) is incredibly bothersome to me. And while I look forward to the day when that remedies itself and I can enjoy a morning cup o’ joe, I even more look forward to its diuretic benefits.
My morning bathroom routine used to be like clockwork. Five to ten minutes from my first sip of coffee, off I’d go to have my morning poo. Alas, gone are the days of predictable and reliable bowel movements.
Tea, breakfast, water… Nothing – nothing! – sets things in motion like a cup of coffee. (Actually, I hear that a morning cigarette helps; but that’s obviously a bad idea right now.) What makes this terribly disturbing to Pregnant Square Piece is that now I have one more thing that’s out of my control.
When’s the poo coming now? Noon? Three? Five?
It wouldn’t be so upsetting if our salon had several bathrooms to choose from, or at least one with a few stalls and greater ventilation. But nOoOoOoOo… No, we have one toilet for everyone to use, clients and stylists alike. So not only do I have to hope and pray that my first poo of the day isn’t the sort of situation where time seems to stand still (’cause who has time for that?), but then I have to be sure to replace all the oxygen in that tiny room with air freshener.
Be honest, you never want to go number two just to pass the
person victim who’s next in line for the loo.
I have no illusion that you actually delight in hearing these details. On the contrary, this one’s just for me. If I ever get pregnant again, I want to realllllly remember what it is I’m signing up for: zero control and zero dignity.