Dear (hypothetical) Button,
You’re not really an actual button yet. You’re more of a notional button or an idea button. A button that we envisaged it might be fun to have at some point in the future, like you might be useful which seems to be as real a reason as any although not as romantic as you might wish. You may never be an actual Button of course but I figured that if one day you might be then I would want to say this to you. Look at the effort I have already gone to on your behalf!
I’m sure there are thousands of women who wake up one morning and (after some orchestrated peeing) figure out that they are categorically on their way to welcoming a new button into the world. There are others however who happen to do a little more prep work than, you know, the crucial bit. So like I said, I have already made a concerted effort on your behalf. I went to the doctor and I got jabbed! Apparently the fact that I’ve had Rubella doesn’t necessarily mean my blood remembers I’ve had Rubella. Humph.
I also got poked in some awkward places which I am assured is nothing compared to how I will be handled and “penetrated” if you become a real button. The lady doctor was very nice about it though so I suppose I should count my blessings while I can. Because I have to say that the further educated I become on the art of making buttons, the less appealing it all sounds. (I nearly wrote appalling then by accident instead of appealing but in a way the word is fitting here too, the less appealing it sounds, the more appalling it is). If it wasn’t for the fact that brand new buttons are widely regarded as truly awesome, we probably wouldn’t stand for the side effects.
What person would under other circumstances voluntarily sign up for the following: vomiting, swelling, sleeplessness, PAIN, bloating, exhaustion, cramping, aches, anxiety, PAIN, the constant need to pee, diet restrictions, stretch marks, mood swings, PAIN, increased chance of other health complications, the loss of personal space (there is apparently an inverse relationship between your personal space and the size of your belly) and did I forget to mention UNBELIEVABLE AND EXCRUTIATING PAIN? I tell you what, these happy hormones that people keep on promising me better be pretty bloody ecstatic!
* I would credit the image if I had the faintest idea who owns it.