Archive of ‘Pregnancy Fun’ category

My stomach is alive and other random notes.

A couple of mornings ago, I was sitting at my computer, typing away, when I looked down and saw the strangest thing—my stomach was twitching from side to side, all on its own.  It looked like some weird special effect from a sci fi movie or something. I almost expected a little green alien to burst out and start doing the macarena.

Such is life in the eighth month of pregnancy.

Other fun highlights?

Childbirth education class. This week, we talked about the wild and wacky world of pain medication during labor, with a particular emphasis on epidurals. Now, I don’t know how much you have heard about this “regional anesthetic,” but I can tell you, I now know far, far too much.

I know exactly where in your spine they put it in. How much it hurts (supposedly not at all). All the risks and benefit (surprise, it can kill you!). And, thanks to a teacher who has apparently never heard the phrase “too much information,” what the catheter, and yes, even the needle, looks like (big. and scary.).

But, not being a big fan of pain, I’m pretty sure I still want one. I’ll just have to make sure my husband’s out of the room first—even hearing about it was enough to make him dizzy. I don’t think he needs to see it done to his wife. Although, by that point, he might feel like jabbing sharp needles into me himself…

Of course, he probably gets that feeling several times a day. My hormones are, well, a bit crazy lately. So he might find himself getting snarled at if he fails to guess correctly what I want for dinner. Or confusedly grabbing tissues for a suddenly  sobbing me when moments before I’d been laughing my head off.  Or nudging me awake when I drift off mid-sentence.

But at 34 weeks, I make no apologies. I’m doing the best I can, and so is he. I’m sure in the end, it’ll all be worth it.

My Baby the Kick Boxer.

Today, I had a 9 a.m. conference call to present concepts to a client—a new client, at that. Now, I’m not usually at my best at that hour. In fact, as a general rule, it’s really not a good idea to even speak to me before 9:30 or so. But I knew it was important to make a good impression, so I made an extra effort this morning.  I made sure to get moving as soon as my alarm went off, had a healthy breakfast and got to work with enough time before the meeting to go over my materials. In other words, I was in good shape.

The meeting started, and my confidence level was still high. I jotted notes in the margins to make extra sure I knew exactly what I was going to say. And when the time came to speak, I launched right into my presentation.

And then the kicking started.

Kicks aimed directly at my bladder.

A bladder still full of coffee and juice.

I was about two sentences in to my little speech when the first one connected. Hard. I immediately lost my train of thought, stopping mid-word to catch my breath. I waited for a moment, but that seemed to be it, so I started speaking again.

Then, just as I was getting back into the groove, she started using my bladder as a punching bag again. I don’t know what it had done to offend her, but she seemed quite displeased, and was intent on having her revenge. As the assault continued, all thoughts of the materials in front of me disappeared. Instead, the only thing I could think was, “Oh my God, I’m going to pee my pants. Please don’t let me pee my pants.”

I shuddered, and in a choked voice which I can only hope was too low for the client to hear, said, “Guys, I’m losing it. Someone take over for me.”

One of my coworkers swooped in to my rescue, redirecting the conversation so I could get myself together. I breathed deeply and mentally shouted at the baby to Cut. It. Out. NOW. If I could have, I would have stood on my head to dislodge her. Instead, I just rocked in my seat, distracting both me and her.

Within a few minutes she stopped, and when there was a lull in the conversation I charged back in—completing my presentation without any further interruptions from the future kick boxer in my belly. After the meeting, I shamefacedly explained what had happened to the folks in the room. Luckily, they just laughed, and told me next time to just get up and go to the rest room if I needed to.

But I think I’ll just hope it doesn’t happen again. Once was enough for that particular experience.

My Toes Have Disappeared and Other Observations.

I’ve always taken my feet for granted. Whenever I look down, they’re just there, planted at the bottom of my legs. Which has made determining whether my toenails needed cutting or my nail polish is chipping relatively easy.

Then yesterday I made a startling realization. My feet aren’t in my line of sight anymore.  The only thing a casual glance downwards reveals is the vast expanse of my belly. And that’s just weird.

I had to bend forward just to make sure they were still there. And they are, including all ten toes. They’re just hidden from sight when I’m standing upright. It’s a strange feeling, to be suddenly footless.

I’ve also recently discovered that thanks to my growing uterus, my insides have been thoroughly rearranged. How do I know? Because when I bend a certain way, my lungs literally run into something hard and I can’t breathe. Kinda like when you aren’t watching where you’re going and you walk into a shelf.

And yes, I have accidentally run into shelving. More than once, as a matter of fact. Just call me Grace.

Next disturbing physical change I’m expecting? The popping of my belly button. It’s always been really deep, but it’s getting shallower all the time. I know because my husband gets a kick out of sticking his finger in there and measuring it every day.

What, is that too much information? Guess I’ll stop while I’m ahead, then.

1 2