The Bad Mom

“I just got off work. I clean up pretty good” I said in my cocky voice.

“No, I meant you’ve exploded, you look really pregnant. How much weight have you gained?” he asked.

“Almost 20 lbs.” I can’t believe he’s calling me fat,” I thought.

“What do you just eat all the time?” he asked.

“I listen to my body” I grunted

“We don’t recommend women going over 25 lbs., so just something to be aware of,” he warns. “Is your mom going to be your birth coach?”

“No, she will need the birth coach; I just want to do this alone.” I protest. Having friends and family in the delivery room would just make me feel uncomfortable. I’m a loner. I want to have this last moment alone.