To Hell and Back in 6 Weeks
Oh sweet God. Am home from Mexico. Which means my holiday is over. Which means it's back to reality (why does reality have to be such an insufferable bitch all the time?). Which means there is nothing to make the next 6 weeks go by any faster. Nope, time has marched to a standstill and now it feels like, 6 weeks, 6 years - IT'S ALL THE SAME AT THIS POINT.
Let me tell you about all of the suckage of being 34 weeks pregnant. First of all - I'm fat. I'm no longer just pregnant looking. I'm actually fat. My face rolls into my neck. My thighs have this rippling layer over top of them. I think I'm getting stretch marks on my back, for God's sake. Then there's the heartburn. At this point, it's near constant. Which I could deal with if it weren't for the terrible constant pain underneath the right side of my rib cage. Seriously, why does this child insist on wedging his foot up in there? Is it just to piss of his mother?
But it doesn't end there. Oh, no. The back pain is merciless, especially in my lower back. Positions be damned - flat on my back, sitting, standing, fetal position - ALL ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. Then there are the baby hiccups which inevitable start up at 2am and can no longer be considered cute. Not when they make my entire stomach jump every 1.3 seconds.
Yet there's more: I can no longer get a full breath of air. And that is a horrible feeling, particularly when it's not like I'm even exerting myself. Like who knew driving was a work-out? But the way I pant as I drive around town is ludicrous. I also grunt a lot too. Getting up from the couch? Requires a grunt. Bending down to pick up a leaf that Lucy has tracked in? An even louder grunt. Picking up my husband's shoes that he's left by the back door in disarray? Well, this requires both a grunt and a tongue-lashing aimed in his direction.
Oh, I could whine on and on about this pregnancy (Braxton-Hicks contractions - you are a slut). But what's the point. Sharing my misery won't make it any less, well, miserable. And worse yet, I have no choice but to suck it all up. I have 6 more weeks of this shit! It's only going to get worse. And really, I shouldn't complain because as I've said before, in the big-pregnancy-scheme-of-things, mine has been a walk in the park. Now just knock on wood that my labour and delivery will be the same.
One more thing to note, however: LIBIDO IS STILL IN HIDING. Am getting worried. Perhaps it's lost? Or been kidnapped? Should I put an ad for it on some milk cartons?
Charkins wants to know why I don't have any pregnancy cravings. And I don't really have an answer for that other than that it's very disappointing for me as well. I was all prepared to crave pickle chips and send my husband out for a Quarter Pounder at midnight. This has yet to happen. I crave chocolate but no more than I always have.
As for actual baby preparation, I am pretty much ready to go. I mean, we're still waiting for his nursery carpet to come in. And I'm having a helluva time trying to track down a car seat base. I've also ordered a few things down in the States that I need to pick up but otherwise, we are ready as we'll ever be for our LB.
Oh, except for diapers and stuff! This weekend I plan to do all my baby pharmaceutical shopping, i.e. diaper wipes and baby Tylenol and Q-tips. I am ridiculously excited about this. I don't know why. It creeps me out a little too but still, I have my list all ready and I am chomping at the bit to hit up Superstore's Baby Department and buy myself some diapers already!
Wow. Apparently I am incapable of talking about anything other than this pregnancy. Like, I could write about my trip to Mexico but then all I would want to talk about is how many weird/uncomfortable looks I got on the beach as I strolled along in my bikini with my 8 month belly exposed. Or how this one older lady did at least come up to me as I walked along with my white stomach hanging out for all the world to see, and said, "Good for you!" Or how I tried to dig myself a hole in the sand so I could lay on my belly (something I miss so achingly much) and it was disappointingly uncomfortable in approximately 32 seconds. Or how I read like 2.5 books while I was gone, a far cry from my 8 book record that I earned during my week-long stay down there last May. But I needed to nap! And reading made me sleeping! Or how I was awoken from one nap to see this Mexican man peering down over me as he told Adders how beautiful I was pregnant. That was a bit creepy. So see? Even all my Mexican stories can be related to my pregnancy. Except the Mexican wasp sting, but even that was made all the more dramatic by my pregnancy, what with the collapsing and sobbing on the beach due to the intense pain, and the crowd gathered around, wondering if they'd actually get to see me give birth right then and there.
So basically I am consumed by this pregnancy now and it's all I can think about, all I can discuss. I have become a pregnant cliche and the world's most annoying person, I realize. But it's not my fault. 6 weeks that equal into an eternity while you can do nothing but grunt is enough to make anyone annoying.
Let me tell you about all of the suckage of being 34 weeks pregnant. First of all - I'm fat. I'm no longer just pregnant looking. I'm actually fat. My face rolls into my neck. My thighs have this rippling layer over top of them. I think I'm getting stretch marks on my back, for God's sake. Then there's the heartburn. At this point, it's near constant. Which I could deal with if it weren't for the terrible constant pain underneath the right side of my rib cage. Seriously, why does this child insist on wedging his foot up in there? Is it just to piss of his mother?
But it doesn't end there. Oh, no. The back pain is merciless, especially in my lower back. Positions be damned - flat on my back, sitting, standing, fetal position - ALL ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. Then there are the baby hiccups which inevitable start up at 2am and can no longer be considered cute. Not when they make my entire stomach jump every 1.3 seconds.
Yet there's more: I can no longer get a full breath of air. And that is a horrible feeling, particularly when it's not like I'm even exerting myself. Like who knew driving was a work-out? But the way I pant as I drive around town is ludicrous. I also grunt a lot too. Getting up from the couch? Requires a grunt. Bending down to pick up a leaf that Lucy has tracked in? An even louder grunt. Picking up my husband's shoes that he's left by the back door in disarray? Well, this requires both a grunt and a tongue-lashing aimed in his direction.
Oh, I could whine on and on about this pregnancy (Braxton-Hicks contractions - you are a slut). But what's the point. Sharing my misery won't make it any less, well, miserable. And worse yet, I have no choice but to suck it all up. I have 6 more weeks of this shit! It's only going to get worse. And really, I shouldn't complain because as I've said before, in the big-pregnancy-scheme-of-things, mine has been a walk in the park. Now just knock on wood that my labour and delivery will be the same.
One more thing to note, however: LIBIDO IS STILL IN HIDING. Am getting worried. Perhaps it's lost? Or been kidnapped? Should I put an ad for it on some milk cartons?
Charkins wants to know why I don't have any pregnancy cravings. And I don't really have an answer for that other than that it's very disappointing for me as well. I was all prepared to crave pickle chips and send my husband out for a Quarter Pounder at midnight. This has yet to happen. I crave chocolate but no more than I always have.
As for actual baby preparation, I am pretty much ready to go. I mean, we're still waiting for his nursery carpet to come in. And I'm having a helluva time trying to track down a car seat base. I've also ordered a few things down in the States that I need to pick up but otherwise, we are ready as we'll ever be for our LB.
Oh, except for diapers and stuff! This weekend I plan to do all my baby pharmaceutical shopping, i.e. diaper wipes and baby Tylenol and Q-tips. I am ridiculously excited about this. I don't know why. It creeps me out a little too but still, I have my list all ready and I am chomping at the bit to hit up Superstore's Baby Department and buy myself some diapers already!
Wow. Apparently I am incapable of talking about anything other than this pregnancy. Like, I could write about my trip to Mexico but then all I would want to talk about is how many weird/uncomfortable looks I got on the beach as I strolled along in my bikini with my 8 month belly exposed. Or how this one older lady did at least come up to me as I walked along with my white stomach hanging out for all the world to see, and said, "Good for you!" Or how I tried to dig myself a hole in the sand so I could lay on my belly (something I miss so achingly much) and it was disappointingly uncomfortable in approximately 32 seconds. Or how I read like 2.5 books while I was gone, a far cry from my 8 book record that I earned during my week-long stay down there last May. But I needed to nap! And reading made me sleeping! Or how I was awoken from one nap to see this Mexican man peering down over me as he told Adders how beautiful I was pregnant. That was a bit creepy. So see? Even all my Mexican stories can be related to my pregnancy. Except the Mexican wasp sting, but even that was made all the more dramatic by my pregnancy, what with the collapsing and sobbing on the beach due to the intense pain, and the crowd gathered around, wondering if they'd actually get to see me give birth right then and there.
So basically I am consumed by this pregnancy now and it's all I can think about, all I can discuss. I have become a pregnant cliche and the world's most annoying person, I realize. But it's not my fault. 6 weeks that equal into an eternity while you can do nothing but grunt is enough to make anyone annoying.
posted by Divine K @ 11:40 AM
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