Wednesday, April 02, 2008

For real? Are they serious?

I feel like complaining.

These women who claim to love being pregnant? You know, the ones who are actually disappointed when it's over? There has to be some sort of psychological disorder that would accurately describe them. Like maybe insanity? How is it possible to enjoy this process? The only theory that I can come up with is that they love attention. There's no other logical explanation.

'Cause here's the real deal. I'm going to try to limit it to eating, sleeping, and pooping....three activities that are the core events in my life. Well, in my regular life. In my more gestational life, these things are all somewhat limited. Here's the problem. I go about eating a normal dinner and find myself miserably full, since Cletus (the fetus) is lounging comfortably in my abdomen, shoving my stomach up into my neck somewhere, limiting its capacity.

Oh, and the food that I'm eating? It's all sprinkled with flaxseed meal for extra fiber. I mean everything: yogurt, sandwiches, spaghetti....flaxseed goes in anything but ice cream. I drink plum jucie and snack on prunes. I drink enough water that I pee approximately every 20 minutes. I scrutinize package labels for the fiber grams and try to fill up on salad before meals. I drink Metamucil. It's like I'm 80 years old. And I haven't even mentioned my bladder control issues.

So, after dinner I groan and moan for a while, hefting my stomach around in my hands because by the end of the day it's pulling on my back. Not two hours later, I'm starving. I simply must eat before I go to bed. Usually a cheese sandwich and a bowl of ice cream. Soon comes bedtime, but a horizontal position brings on the next issue: reflux. I realize that I shouldn't eat before bed, but if I don't, my stomach growls all night and I dream about food and cooking. But the eating is bad. When one's stomach is in one's throat it makes it quite easy to vurp hot burny vurps as one attempts to fall asleep.

Not that one could prop up on pillows and sleep on their back, of course, because that would break the "no sleeping on your back" rule which causes some artery or something to be mashed and ruin you and your baby. That, and I can't breathe. So, I prop up on pillows and sleep on my side. Let's take the left side tonight. Well....I have scoliosis and the way my back curves does not jive with the double pillow left side approach and leaves me with an aching neck and a numb left arm within 30 minutes.

Did I mention that I am also intimately entwined around a body pillow named Phil? With my numb arm and stiff neck I hurl Phil over my body and gear up to launch my heft from left to right. It lands with a soft thud atop Phil and I pant for a few moments as I try to wriggle into a more comfortable position. Fall asleep. Within 30 minutes, the sciatic nerve in my right hip is on fire from the weight pressing it into the mattress. Repeat process back to right side. Swallow burny vurp. Realize have to pee. Repeat process tens of times during night.

Is this really what people miss? Or is it the uncoordinated bashing of body parts into walls, doors, and furniture? Is it having to stain stick the stomach region of your shirt every night when you change out of it? Maybe it's the bleeding gums or the inside out belly button that people find sexy. If it wasn't for the ice cream, I don't think I'd make it. If anyone has any insight into the minds of these crazy people, do share. If you are one of them, prepare yourself for my withering stare. I shun you.

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