There is the little man. Such a cutie for some cartilage and all. Look at the noggin, looks like he takes after his mama like the other two. Large heads are a sign of intelligence. I think I made that up, but it sounds good. I think it just comes from my grandfather, which comes from his mother, and most of us who come from that wonderful ancestry have big heads and big boobs. Well except for the men of course, but you never know, they put on an extra few pounds…they may be more susceptible to man boobs, I wouldn’t risk it, I’m just putting the warning out there. But it was refreshing to see that it looks as though he will have a cute little nose, again, one of my fears, the child comes out with this giant schnoze, and well, it’s just awkward for everyone involved.
As I have said before, I have popped. Considerably so. There was this Christmas song we learned in elementary school that we would sing in a round, and each time I pass myself in the mirror, I start to sing, ‘Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat…’It’s like my theme song. I am always pregnant at the holidays. The rest of the song goes on about pennies, and putting them in a hat, which is irrelevant, but just the same the song comes to my head. Like I have mentioned before, sometimes my life plays to a soundtrack in my head, but I have no control over the choices. When I see kids who have just learned to walk toddle around, in my head the song plays, ‘Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down,’ and I will continue to sing it for the rest of the day. Now if you know it, you will too.
You know the show with the girls that didn’t know that they were pregnant? I will never ever be able to say that, ever. It’s like whoa, she’s pregnant. I could be really spiteful and say, ‘no, it’s a hernia,’ or just, plain and simple, ‘no I’m not.’ But that would be just mean. But regardless, I would never believe these stories unless I was a personal witness to one, which I will not divulge in because that is not my job, but let me just tell you, no, by all means, no way, would I have known that she was pregnant and about to deliver. That my dear readers, is the way to look. I am sure it is a shock, and I am certain it would be a little easier to show then to one day be like, ‘oh yeah, I just had a baby last week, no, no I didn’t adopt it, it came from my uterus.’ But it beats the extra two feet that is going to stick out in front of me in the end of all of this. Oh and the baby was born fine, cute, healthy, and a toddler now. But I am a believer that it could happen. Kendall didn’t move much during my pregnancy with her, and you would be able to convince me the subtle movements were gas if I didn’t have a fourth chin and a stomach that rounded the corner before me.
I sound like a big fat complainer when it comes to pregnancy, and I am not. I do love being pregnant. I love that there is life growing in me, from me and Andy, but I feel it is my duty to relate to all you other pregnant women out there, who were, are, and will be pregnant. Not only that, it is the ultimate excuse…’I can’t do that, I am pregnant,’ or ‘I can’t do that, it might hurt the baby,’ or my personal favorite, ‘Yeah, well I’m pregnant, beat that!’
So some of the symptoms that are aching me right now comes compliments of the growing child. It is supposed to be close to 2 pounds right now, but you would think it was 25. First and foremost, the round ligament. You wouldn’t even know you had it until it starts to take some pressure, and then you are like, ‘hello, did I just do 5,000 sit-ups and compete in a tractor wheel lifting contest last night in my sleep?’ This muscle, when agitated, will cause you to waddle like a duck, cause you immense pain when rising from just a simple sitting position, and will sometimes have you thinking that the baby is just going to drop right on out. It is located right under the growing belly. It hurts right on down through your crotch; it’s really grand like that. The only relief you will feel is sitting or lying down without moving and nobody touching you or rocking anything near you that might cause you to stir, so you best surround yourself in yellow caution tape, or holding your crotch like you have to pee. Both of these situations, as you can see, are real conducive to having you look like a complete degenerate. Kendall is always asking around the house, ‘Mom, you have to pee,’ I just simply say, no Kendall it’s the counter pressure’, and waddle to the next activity. If you see me in public and I am holding my crotch, don’t tell me about it, just stand in front of me so others don’t see. The pain is that bad sometimes. I warned you on the first blog about this; it would be graphic in nature, so just stop reading now if you don’t like it.
Next are the Charlie horses in the leg. Don’t tell me to eat a banana. These typically happen at about 3 in the morning. And the pain is so bad that I just want to kick Andy. I am one of those that if I am in pain I want to kick or hit something really hard. When I went into labor with Ethan, as I was waiting for Andy to get ready, anything that was on the floor was punted across the room. I am getting pretty good with them, and I know to just freeze. To not even blink, it might set it off. I pray to God to keep Andy still. But if it catches me by surprise and I point my toes like you want to do instinctively when you have a Charlie horse, the pain resembles to me what it might feel like to have had your leg muscle attacked by a wolverine.
Lastly is the water retention. This too seems to happen only at night. If my clothes are bunched up, if the blanket isn’t straight beneath me, when I wake up to go pee, I will feel this stinging sensation on my skin. When I lift my shirt or pant leg to investigate in the mirror I will see skin indentations so deep it causes a ridge when I run my fingers over it. It’s like a braille map that leads to nowhere. The other night I fell asleep with Kendall in her bed, and she has this book that has little puffy letters on the cover. I must have been lying on it, for when I woke up, felt the sensation, and lifted my shirt, my side read, ‘The Cat,’ ok people, talk about swelling. There is a reason I am pregnant in the winter, if it were August, I would look like a wrinkled mess all day. You would be able to just poke me, and there would be an indent left.
So as you can see, sleep is just wonderful. It is all worth it, of course, in the end I will hold a little miracle, but it is not for the weary. Many say they would like to have their husband be pregnant for one day so that they could relate and see what it is really like. I could not disagree more. Have you taken care of a man who has the common cold? The cold that you and the kids had just last week and managed to function fine with, which has now crippled this man? Yeah, just remember that.
Oh and the Frank & Beans
at 2:31 PM