Okay. I’m sorry. I’m a slacker. I’m lazy. I’m overwhelmed. I’m tired. I’m bitchy. I’m cranky. I constantly think I have to pee only to discover that I really don’t have to pee even though I feel like I’m about to piss my pants. That last part mainly happens at night in the middle of really good dreams and deep sleep, which I think contributes greatly to the cranky and bitchy part. So there…there are my excuses for not blogging in so long. The crazy thing about this blog is I feel like it’s a friend I haven’t talked on the phone to in so long that I keep putting off the next phone conversation, not because I don’t miss them and have tons to tell them, but because I don’t have the energy to tell them all that stuff since it’s been so long. You know what I mean? So I’m going to try to get as much out in the most concise manner possible in this entry. These are all things I’ve thought I should write about in depth on here over the last month. Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version:
1. Maternity clothes continue to suck ass and should really be disposable. I am now back to grandpa butt syndrome because my belly has become too big to hold up these elastic waists comfortably. I must say I would prefer that all my pants have waists that come up to my boobs to avoid this, but since I thought that was oh so uncool when I went on my early maternity clothes shopping sprees, I am stuck with all these under the belly or mid belly styles that do nothing but cut off circulation to my crotch or sag off my butt so bad it looks like I just dropped a load….or delivered the baby in my underwear.
I am also constantly walking around with giant grease stains on the front of whatever shirt I choose to wear. It seems I am a walking pregnancy cliche. I can not eat ANYTHING without spilling or dribbling it all down the front of me. It inevitably always stains and makes me grateful that most of my maternity tops were $12 at Target….about as close to disposable as you can get. Let me know, please, if you see any plastic toss-away maternity tops. Or perhaps I should just invest in a very large bib. I’m sure I could find one with a Lobster on it at some local dive of a surf and turf shack.
2. The state of my boobs – dismal. I can’t even express to you how weird my nipples look. They are huge. As of this morning, I guess they’ve started practicing production because I woke up with a perfect circle of wetness right over my right nipple. If only I could believe that that was a strategically placed drop of drool. It is also very weird to feel your boobs and the top of your belly touch. I now have boob cleavage in three places.
3. Stretchmarks, I haz them. Luckily most of them have appeared on my boobs, which surprisingly didn’t upset me that much – those babies are shot anyway. However, I have noticed the beginnings of at least two on my lower stomach recently and have gone from a girl who thought, “Who the hell needs to rub cream all over their stomach. If you’re going to get them, you’re going to get them. What can you do?” To a girl who ran out to CVS to buy a special $11 bottle of oil that claims to be made specifically to reduce and eliminate the appearance of stretchmarks and have been feverishly applying it twice a day, praying it’s my miracle.
4. My son is developing quite nicely. He is probably close to 4 lbs or more now, and he is definitely getting stronger. So strong that he is finally able to penetrate my anterior placenta with his kicks and bumps. I’m finally able to feel movement outside of my stomach and by my belly button in addition to the kicks and jabs I always felt up top and way down low. Another sign he’s right on track is I can feel hiccups! Yup. Apparently babies practice hiccuping. I can not tell you why. All I know is the other night I was wondering why my ass was pulsating. I thought I must be sitting on a giant, throbbing vein. Turns out…not a pulsating vein in my ass…it was my kid’s hiccups. It’s actually very good news to have butt hiccups. That means he is head down! Which leads me to…
5. The baby, as of my last appointment, is in great position. He is head down, butt under my ribs, feet pointed toward my hips. Lock and load, baby! This pleases me greatly and I hope he decides that’s a comfortable enough position to stay in until his grand exit into the world. See, as much as I had an irrational fear of conehead babies and still do think that c-section babies have the most beautiful round precious heads, I do not want a round headed c-section baby. I want a smooshed, pointy headed, wrinkly baby, as long as that means he can come out of me without major surgery.
6. Gastric bypass surgery must suck. I’m convinced I am suffering some of the same side effects. I am starving. My body tells me to eat..EAT A LOT. I do. Then I regret it. It never seems to make it all the way down without wanting to choose the path of least resistance and come back up. I have woken up several times in the middle of the night gagging on dinner from hours before. Of course, I never throw up, which I think would make me feel a lot better most of the time. For some reason my body has this extreme aversion to throwing up and will rarely let me do it, even if I’m encouraging it. I also am experiencing a ton of acid reflux lately. I forgot to bring my Tums to work with me the other day and wanted so badly to ask the first pregnant lady I saw if I could have some of hers. Unfortunately, it was a slow business day and I had to sit in misery until I could run home at my lunch break. And do not worry…I can be trusted with Tums again. I respect their power and never exceed the maximum allowed dosage ; )
Well, that’s all the time I have for the pregnancy updates. My 3 1/2 year old niece is still living with us, and that’s enough for a whole other blog. She has settled in nicely and is looking forward to being the “cousin sister”. She came up with that all on her own. I told my husband we should have a shirt printed for her that says “I’m the Big Cousin Sister” for her to wear to the hospital. I can only imagine what the nurses will think of our family tree. Surely they will think we drove all the way in from West Virginia for the birth.
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