You’ve all heard the phrase, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”, right?
Then you can understand, internet, why I haven’t been a regular, every day kind of blogger lately. But I am here today to make amends, (to some degree) so let me tell you right off the bat, internet, that your hair looks LOVELY today.
Today, I am 36 weeks pregnant. That, if you are doing the math, is NINE MONTHS. And if you believe what you have heard about pregnancy lasting nine months, then it would stand to reason that I would currently be IN LABOR. But…alas…I am not. (And that nine months of pregnancy thing? A total lie. They say that, but they are lying. 40 weeks does not equal nine months.) I am, however, dousing things in hot sauce to speed up the process. Heartburn or no heartburn. I can’t take anymore. I can’t remember who said to me, around week 25 or so in response to my inquiry about why pregnancy has to last so long, “At least you aren’t an elephant, they gestate for 22 months. That’s almost TWO YEARS!” but I would like to say to this person, a) SHUT THE FUCK UP and b) you have a point. My thoughts on this vary. BUT, the sentiment has stayed with me. And for the record, I am glad that I am not an elephant. And gestation really isn’t the only reason. Their skin looks painfully dry.
For lack of anything nice to say, here are a few notes on my 35th week:
1. My belly has seemingly doubled in size. Until now, strangers had been oblivious of “the bump” and had treated me just as rudely as they always had. This gave me a small amount of comfort because either they hadn’t noticed that I was knocked up (which essentially meant that I wasn’t nearly as gigantic as I thought) or that people were just as big of assholes to pregnant ladies (which made me feel less like I was handicapped in some way). MB and I went to a flea market last weekend as an attempt to get me out into the land of the living and while we were out and about, three people made conversation about my pregnancy. This was both unsettling (because I realized that I probably now AM as gigantic as I feel) and comforting (because people actually WERE nicer to me than before I was knocked up). I didn’t punch anyone. Not even the lady in the dairy section of the grocery store who yelled across the aisle at me to comment on how low the baby is sitting, judging from the shape of my belly.
2. I’m a bit snappy. Throughout the whole pregnancy, no matter how irritatign things were, I managed to refrain from snapping at MB. Like, almost, AT ALL (which, if you know me, is a total accomplishment). But now? All bets are off, internet. I will bite his head off. And if someone witnesses said head biting, I will bite their heads off as well. No one is safe. I am a loose cannon. (Which should make this baby shower I have to attend tomorrow interesting! HA!)
3. I hurt. Pretty much everywhere. I never understood how a tiny baby, kicking you in the ribs from the inside could be painful. And then it started happening to me. And then I started viewing it as some sort of karmic retribution for accidently dropping my sister when she was a baby. (It was totally an accident, I tried to lift her out of the bassinet because she was crying! Sheesh!) The back pain, I can handle. I am used to my back feeling like it is breaking in half. And the hip pain has mostly subsided (unless I am trying to sleep on my sides or walk through a parking lot). But my muscles ache. And my head hurts. And the nausea HAS RETURNED. (Did you hear that, ladies?! NAUSEA. AGAIN!) And I am pretty sure that this child is already the size of a 12-year-old.
I am ready to do this thing.