This is pregnancy.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

I am on my 4th cold of this pregnancy. Yes, it is July. Yes, I have a cold. No, I am not making this up. I have eaten a baked potato and soup. Ice cream is next.

My belly rests on my lap. My boobs rest on my belly. Everything is touching. This is an odd sensation.

Every few days, Baby Girl reaches a new place she wasn't able to reach a few days ago. Because of the aforementioned statement, I estimate she can reach everything in my abdomen and if I'm sitting, the tops of my legs. She kicked a nerve in my butt yesterday.

I have started to waddle. It's super attractive.

I frequently get stuck on my back like a turtle. This happens on our bed or if I sit (and then lay) on the floor, forgetting that I cannot get up of my own volition any more. I flail and grunt and moan until Thomas comes to help his massive wife get up.

He doesn't call me massive. I call myself that, when I'm not calling myself a beached whale or the Goodyear blimp. He calls me gorgeous.

I miss wearing shorts. And after almost a quarter of a century, I've given up hope that I will ever tan, so I really don't care about you seeing my pale legs. Mostly it's because it's really hard for me to shave. I can't sit in the bottom of the tub and reach forward because of 24 pounds of placenta, fetus, amniotic fluid, and uterus. I don't have very good balance standing up for the same reason.

I also miss wearing more than 10 items of clothing. Mom, I understand now. Current outfit: one of Thomas's t shirts and black maternity yoga pants.

Speaking of yoga while pregnant, what is it? Who the heck is doing this? I can't see my own feet, let alone bend and touch them anymore. Do they just stand in a room and wave their arms around?

I periodically press firmly on my stomach to move my child. People look at me weird when I do this, but I know it's because they don't have someone putting feet behind their ribs. *Look, don't get in a huff about this, it's a gentle pressing and about half as hard as what my midwife does every week.

I have skin tags. No one told me this was a side effect of pregnancy. It is. I looked it up. What's the explanation for them cropping up on my belly and neck? Hormones. What else would it be?

There is a certain part of my anatomy (hint, it's a pair) that will not stop growing. Will. Not. Stop. Sadly, the requisite contraption to contain them is no longer comfortable because of the encroaching uterus (will it ever stop growing upwards?). I have not figured out a solution to this problem other than being a hermit for the last few weeks. This may be a viable solution.

I have to sleep with so many pillows to be even slightly comfortable that I feel like I'm drowning in them when I wake up. When my sweet, sweet husband goes to work in the morning, he gently repositions them all around his groggy wife, as I have flailed them about in the night. He kisses me, tells me he loves me, I grumble incoherently, and yet he returns home every day! Women, get yourselves one of these. Just not mine. I may not be able to fight you for him, but I will roll on top of you and crush you with my big self. Hormones are dangerous.

I cry all the time. Mostly when thinking about the Jellybean. This love is overwhelming.

If you are pregnant, have been pregnant, or will be pregnant, there are 2 major revelations. One will hit you in the first or second trimester. It is when you truly understand that you are pregnant. When it really hits you. The pee stick just ushers in a level of the surreal. For me, it was the ultrasound to determine that I was pregnant. I saw the bean and holy crap, my world was upside down. The second will come after you have been pregnant for many weeks and it will hit you that you have to give birth to a human and some how, some way, that human will come out of you. Mine came at the hospital tour when I saw the red bio-hazard bag that my, uh... leftovers would be going into. Nothing like a giant, red trash bag for medical waste to say "Congrats, you're having a baby!"

I cannot walk anywhere with great speed. Heck, I can't walk anywhere with moderate to normal speed. I am a waddling pregnant sloth.

I pulled weeds at 9:00 pm tonight for two reasons. One was that it was finally cool enough for me to go outside and the second one is that nesting is a real and present psychological condition whose powers should not be underestimated.

After the Jellybean has exited the sterile environment she currently resides in, I plan on eating sushi, a huge roast beef sandwich from Arby's, testing Chinese food again, and drinking a margarita. It's going to be a glorious feast.

I eat a lot, I pee a lot, and I sleep a lot. Kind of like a newborn.

No amount of pillows can solve this back pain.

I cannot wait to see her face, to see what she looks like, and to fall even more hopelessly in love with her than I already am. Despite everything I've written here tonight, this has been a fantastic pregnancy. It's been worth everything I've given up and I am confident that she is worth it- and worth so much more than what I can give her. Can you tell I'm smitten?

4 comments:

  1. hahaha this is awesome. I so relate. :)

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    1. Thanks, Kayla! I've been slacking on those weekly updates, but I thought I'd update everyone on how I am *really* feeling. :)

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  2. Awww! When I was pregnant with Remmy, the day I found out I was having a girl, I cried watching a Pillsbury cinnamon roll commercial of a mom and her daughter baking. Full on wept. :)

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    1. Thanks for reading, Roo! I have a huge meltdown whenever I see commercials depicting military deployments or returns home and anytime I think about seeing my daughter for the first time. I just sort of melt into a teary, salty puddle.

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