Well, I'm in week 33 of my trek to become a mother. And I've learned a lot and haven't been surprised by much--other than the lack of stretch marks and the fact I STILL DO NOT FIT INTO MATERNITY CLOTHES.
But, I digress.
I went to the doc this AM and found out that all the kid's squirming over the past 48 hours wasn't for naught. She's head down. Let's just hope she doesn't twist herself around so she's going the wrong way. I'd like her to at least try to come out the right way.
So, I've been reflective lately. My father told me I ought to keep a journal of my journey through pregnancy. I did. It's mostly filled with I HATE MY LIFE! THIS SUCKS! WHY AM I DOING THIS!
And while I still think these things sometimes, there are times I think WHOO HOOO!
Those are few in far between, as I still dislike being pregnant. I just cannot get on board with the whole "this is wonderful" thing that some pregnant women feel. My mother told me, whilst I was trying to not throw up while sitting on the couch in the reading nook, she loved being pregnant.
I glared at her.
So, here's my take:
1. First Trimester just sucks. It is not fun. You will never convince me that first trimester is fun. You're hot, exhausted, sick, and you are usually in pain. What? Pain? What are you talking about? I'm talking about ligaments. They stretch out as your uterus grows and it freaking hurts. And it happens quite often first trimester. A few times it was worst than period cramps. Add on the fact you're throwing up randomly, it's just plum horrid. I hated first trimester and vowed, loudly and often, I was NEVER doing this again.
2. Second Trimester. This is supposed to be the honeymoon period where you're all glowing, pretty, and you get some of your energy back and you stop throwing up.
I didn't stop throwing up till I was midway through and I was still nauseous quite often till the final weeks. Also, you're growing larger. Well, you're supposed to be, but some of us don't grow like those models who sell maternity clothes. What I've discovered: no one sells stuff meant for second and first trimester no matter what they claim. By the time I hit second trimester, I had a very small bump thing that sat just above where most of my low ride jeans hung out. While I was perfectly find standing, once I sat down I wanted to rip my pants off and scream. Maternity tops were all very baggy in several areas: read the belly and chest. While I had shot up from a 34C to a 34DD, my boobs were still too small for my tops. (The story of my life. No matter how LARGE they get (I was a 34A till I was 21, then a 34B till I got married then grew to a 34C. Then, I got knocked up and shot up to a DD. And I STILL didn't fill out the top half of a shirt. Go figure?)
I began, though, to pee more like a normal person and less like a pregnant one. That was a positive thing, as going every freaking hour was getting to the point of annoyance at this point.
So, with a pants extender thing (which I'm still using BTW and I'm still on the smallest one they offer...which means I can't use the panels they suppled to hide your underwear when you can't get the zip up), I muddled my way through second trimester wearing mostly my pre-pregnancy clothing that was a bit looser cut to hide my belly.
Why was I hiding my bell?
I mostly looked like I was just fat, not pregnant. I lost my waist rather quickly, yet didn't really gain a bump till I was almost into my third trimester and I bloomed outwards. So, onward to Third Trimester.
3. They say after second trimester's wonderfulness, third is a bit harder.
Bit harder my butt.
I hit week 30 and everything went pear shaped.
First, when the kid decides she's going to grow, I feel like I'm going to die or something. It's like having a period without the blood. I get moody, want chocolate, and have this constant paint where my ligaments are expanding some more. Add on the baby earthquakes and sometimes I lay on my back (propped up on almost every single pillow we own, as being on your back as a pregnant woman is a bad thing due to blood pooling or something in your feet) and just wonder why I am doing this to myself. Don't let anyone tell you it's 'fun' to be pregnant. Yeah, I've gotten to buy new clothes, but I've also had to buy a butt load of bras, half of which no longer fit. (They NEVER stop growing.)
Granted, I knew this process was going to suck. I knew it going in, so I didn't go in blind. I learned all I could about pregnancy, birth, and all that jazz before Pilot Boy and I began trying. I quickly lost all delusions I'd ever had about pregnancy and embraced all the bad stuff, as I knew it'd all happen to me.
And for the most part it has.
Only, I never read anywhere, anyone having issues finding maternity clothes that fit them. Luckily, I know how to kind of sew, so I was able to save a few of the pairs of jeans I had bought thinking they'd fit by now. They don't. While the belly did expand (as I look pregnant now, though not as pregnant as I am, as no one believes me when I say I'm due on the 25th of April. I've lost track of the times I've heard I'm tiny), my hips didn't move. Are they just going to magically open up more in the next few weeks? God, I hope so, or else this kid might have issues trying to get out.
Third trimester you also start those birthing and prenatal classes. I've only done the prenatal classes, but it was the first time I was actually exposed to other pregnant women since I got myself knocked up. I've had nothing to judge myself against since I got pregnant, which of course made it hard to believe I was tiny.
I am tiny.
The women in my class are not HUGE women to begin with. They are average--just as I am. However, their bellies are HUGE compared to mine. The girl I spoke to last week before class began is due a little under two weeks before me, but looks to me like she could drop that kid any moment by her size. The other woman, whose due date I don't know passed some time in April, is also larger than me, yet likely smaller than me before she got pregnant. And sitting with these women, I feel tiny and not a huge boat I usually feel like. It's unnerving. Because I look at my belly now and think, "How the hell is there a 17 inch long baby weighing 4.5 lbs in there? How do you fit?"
I've got no idea how she fits, but clearly she does. And clearly she's getting ready to head on out, as I found out today she's facing downwards, facing the right direction to head on down out. (Though, nothing else in my body is saying she's going to show up anytime soon. Thank god.)
Oh, and the other thing that has gotten REALLY bad during third trimester: my brain.
I'm turning into my dad. I'm putting things in the pantry that belong in the fridge, things in the fridge that belong in the pantry, forgetting to do things like go to the bathroom (which sucks because when I finally go, I really have to go). Sometimes I forget to eat till my stomach roars at me. And I can't remember words for the life of me. I'll be talking and suddenly the word will just vanish. And forget about paying bills on time. I never know what day it is. Now, this wouldn't be too much of an issue if Pilot Boy had any room on his ice burg for mundane things like paying bills or remembering to do things around the house. However, those kind of things slip his mind like water through a colander. So, currently, it's amazing we get anything done as I'm the one who remembers things.
Well, I've once again forgot to eat lunch. And do a variety of other things I meant to do upon coming into my new study to work. (I was going to write the next installment of Don't Ever Change and maybe work on the Thor story I've been working on for the past four months since I've finally seen Thor: The Dark World. (And glad I didn't see in it the theater. I took five bathroom breaks.)
So, laters.
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