Post Traumatic Pregnancy Syndrome – a.k.a Motherhood

This shit has gotten real and I have no complaints. I have a good life. By no means perfect or flawless… but, good. Aside from the unwavering temptation to throat punch Daddy P. when he does his hourly walk-by boobing or grab my thirteen year old and say “What the FUCK is wrong with you?” — I’m good. All is well in my world.


Okay – so there is a few things I would to discuss. One is PTPS. Not P.T.S.D. – Post Traumatic PREGNANCY Syndrome, most commonly known as motherhood. I’m not a single mom. Well, I am .. it just depends on the day and whether or not the Army has decided to capture Daddy P. and upset the order in my house. By upsetting the order things get rather chaotic. The kids loose their minds, the dogs eat shit they shouldn’t, everything stops working, I can’t find anything and well …. it’s Daddy P.’s fault (kind of, not really).

So this whole P.T.P.S. … it’s life changing. Life is beautiful and creating life inside of you is an amazing journey. (Not really, as I spent 9-months barfing my brains out with each child) Lets get past all the gooey shit and get real … Pregnancy SUCKS.

  • At the end of nine months you are the size of a beached whale. Things have moved around inside your body and things have moved around outside of your body.
  • During the 1st and 2nd trimester the highly educated MALE doctor assures you that “morning sickness” will pass. FUCK YOU! It’s more like morning, noon and night AND anytime you smell something remotely disturbing sickness.
  • Sex will become more like “Mission Impossible” and you will want to kick the asshole who is even attempting to you in the face for many reasons. Mainly due to lack of energy but also because of the sheer fact that you are the size of a beached whale and being rolled around to do-it is not appealing or sexy. So, fuck off dude.
  • Hormones change and cause irrational, psychotic episodes of joy, anger and unexplained waterfalls of tears at any given moment.
  • Than comes the wonderful process of bringing baby into the world. Yay … NO! It hurts. For all the moms waiting on their bundle of joys to arrive and ask “Does it hurt?” Here’s Amanda’s answer .. “Are you fucking stupid?” YES … it hurts. Your body is built to do this though so shut up, take the drugs if offered and push.
  • Once baby has arrived — you’re NOT done! There is more that needs to be delivered. Ewwww! Your boobs will ache, you will be exhausted and you will now look like a deflated beached whale.

I was NOT a happy pregnant person. I give my mother all the credit as she was my support and grounding for when my brain shut down and I wanted to freak the fuck out. It happens. Now … I am positive if you ask my mom and dad (who were there) – they would tell you I looked like something from the worst horror film. I find that a bit exaggerated (probably not) – but, I survived and it was awful.

But, It’s not done there …. nope. Motherhood. It should be in the DSVM. We should be able to proclaim it as a mental illness. Simply because with every child you give birth to, you become even more of an irrational, moody dumb-ass. It’s even better if you are a single parent. Things are shaken up a bit. It’s wonderful for those who enjoy mass chaos on a daily basis.

  • You live each day in a consistent state of half-assed disorder. You start shit and never finish it because you become distracted with more shit that needs to be done.
  • You turn on netflix with the idea that you’ll actually sit down and watch that episode of what ever and guess what … no. You get about five minutes into it and either fall asleep OR get up to separate your children from each other who are in the midst of a rabid sibling war.
  • Talking to yourself and the pets because normal. When the kids are all off to their friend’s houses or dad’s ….. you are alone. The silence is disturbing and so you turn on everything you can to make noise. Conversations with the pets is generally one-sided.
  • You finally have a free night from your kids …. you go to bed at 6 p.m.
  • Your memory becomes a wonderment of the past. You will begin to forget everything, including what Daddy P. told you just five-minutes earlier.
  • You blog about motherhood and the disorder of your mental health believing people REALLY care when really as they read your post they are thinking “Hmm, she’s fucked up.”

And, you carry on – because you have no choice. Because you have kids that look at you like your bat shit crazy and will further push you to the point of insanity by doing something really fucking stupid (like stuff a penny up their nose or wipe boogers on the wall) that will make your nerves twitch.

No BIG deal though – women have been doing this for hundreds of years.


Amanda VanDamme


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