They never said pregnancy was all roses and belly rubs.
And I’m here to tell you that they were right.
Fibroid pain aside, I’ve actually had it fairly easy during this pregnancy: I never vomited once; never had any back pain; my stomach didn’t really “pop” until the tail end of the second trimester, and the staples of my wardrobe still consist of non-maternity apparel.
But the tide has since turned. It’s hard for me to believe that a few short months ago, I actually uttered the words, “But I still don’t feel pregnant!”
Famous last words. To all those women who -- though very thankful to be pregnant -- have a few choice words about how uncomfortable it is to be with child, I get it now.
I am one of you.
As I lay in my recliner writing this, the searing pain of a Charlie horse is gripping my inner left thigh while my stomach twists and contorts every which way as if it were made of pliable rubber. (Baby Scotty is extremely active at the moment; perhaps he’s doing a form of calisthenics?) There is no doubt about it: I. Am. Very. Pregnant.
And I am ready for it to end. Let me tell you why. Here, I present to you the underbelly of the final stages of pregnancy:
1. You drop something and have to gauge whether it's important enough to bother picking up.
2. Your feet are so dry, it looks as if you’ve been kicking flour. And that’s not even the worse part -- which is, you don’t even care.
3. Putting on socks is an Olympic sport. (Never before have I appreciated my abdominal muscles so much for their ability to help raise my leg to my chest.)
4. Your belly finds itself -- literally -- all up in the mix, including, but not limited to: rubbing against car doors (especially dirty ones) when you’re getting in and out of them; brushing up against dinner plates, namely your own, thus becoming a carrier for food and crumbs; bumping into walls and the corners of counters when you can’t quite clear them.
5. Getting up from a low-sitting chair or couch requires a count of “One, two…three!”
6. It’s 4:34 a.m. and sleep is the furthest thing from your mind.
7. And when you are tired, getting comfortable enough to actually fall asleep requires a full-on strategy: “If I turn my hips like this, bend my leg like that, put a pillow here, and wedge another one right there, then that’ll be perfect. Maybe.”
8. You shave your legs and Queen Victoria area (ahem, “lady parts”) by memory and can only hope you’re getting all the hair...
9. You’re afraid of sneezing or laughing too hard -- particularly if you haven’t emptied your bladder in a while because, well, you know what happens next.
10. You’re positively starving, but, for the life of you, you can’t pinpoint the one thing you really want to eat.
A heartfelt note to “Waiting for Baby” readers:
Thank you, to each and every one of you, for following this column and for your comments and e-mails. They have meant more to me than you’ll ever know and, at times, have provided much-needed comic relief. This is my last column entry until baby Scotty’s arrival. I plan to release a final “Waiting for Baby” entry after the delivery to give you the low-down on how it all went. After that, I’ll take a brief hiatus, which will no doubt be spent kissing Scotty’s cheeks, marveling at his tiny finger and toes, and diapering his bottom. But here’s some good news: I’ll soon return with a brand new column, “The Cribside Chronicles” about life with a newborn. I hope you’ll continue to join me on this wild yet exciting ride.
Peace and Love,