May 18, 2012

Painfully Unique

I'm 37 weeks pregnant, but I look like I'm 40 weeks. I know that I look 40 weeks because I keep getting those darn comments. You know the ones . . . "You should be on leave already!" "You mean you're still driving?" "Every time I look at you, I feel so heavy." "Are you sure there's only one in there??" "You're HUGE!"

Yes, thank you. I know I'm huge. I know that in the sunlight I cast a shadow so wide that bystanders look to see if there's an unannounced solar eclipse.

I think we can all agree that each pregnancy is different. And at least for me, this third one is freaking hard!

My morning sickness was the worst with this one. And my food aversions . . .  I pretty much just ate cereal, bread, and fruits for the first trimester. Yet I still gained a ton of weight.

The pain. Oh, the pain! This child feels like it tries to claw it's way out of me. Doesn't this kid know that my body doesn't work that way? The last two labors ended up in c-sections. You aren't getting out that way kid! And the pain in my pelvis. Who knew such pain existed?! Not I. Is it possible to sprain your pelvis? Let's not forget the pinched nerve at the base of my spine that lasted the entire second trimester. Oh, and the ripping pain on the top right of my belly that felt like my muscles were being pried apart like Popeye breaking out of jail.

Should we even acknowledge the moodiness? I pretty much can't stand anyone. Okay, that's not true, but I do get fed up quickly and I don't really care who notices. If you say something stupid, I'm going to either call you on it or straight up laugh at you (and not in one of those kind chuckle sort of ways, but in one of those that's-such-a-stupid-thing-to-say kind of ways).

And seriously, was I this hot with the first two? I know I was hot, but geez Louise, I might as well be sitting in a steaming cedar wood sauna all day. I mean, I just sit there and I sweat. I sweat with the fan blowing right in my face. I sweat even with the air conditioner on. You could probably fry an egg on my forehead, my leg, my belly - take your pick, I could probably fry an egg on my big toe.

But I tell you what, boy I love being pregnant. Maybe we can do this again in a few years.

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