Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Fear Not *with update*

Everyone keeps asking me if I’m afraid, or nervous, or anxious. I don’t fear any part of giving birth. I know that it’s inevitable (duh) and that my body will know what to do. Besides that, one of the women on the pregnancy board that I’m on made this point: Nature made it so that we are SO uncomfortable and SO miserable by the third trimester that we don't fear giving birth, we welcome it. That is quite true. I can’t wait to not be pregnant.

Here’s my list of complaints for the week:

My vagina feels like it’s going to just FALL OUT. At any given moment. There is so much pressure on my pelvis that when I stand up I want to fall over. Seriously, Fuzz, I know your head HAS to be there, but could you let up a little? I’m afraid you’re going to come out while I’m peeing. And that would be hard to explain at work.

I’m still growing. I checked out my nekkid body the other day and was very unhappy. The belly I can understand, but the rest of me? C’mon, the baby isn’t in my ASS!!!!

My boobs ACHE. I can barely fathom what they’re going to feel like with a strange little critter gumming at them for survival. Plus they’re like, super leaky. It is so effing embarrassing.

It’s hard to breathe. Fuzzball is tap dancing on my lungs.

I can’t pee the whole way when I go to the bathroom. It’s like when you put a kink in a hose, that’s what Fuzz is doing to my bladder.

But it’s not all bad stuff of course. I know that I’m ready to move on to my life as a mom, but I’m going to miss all the quiet moments of sitting and just watching my belly move. I’m going to miss the feeling of a living being residing within me.

Pregnancy has been tough on me psychologically, but in some ways it has been very therapeutic (not to sound all Britney Spears, who had a c-section so she could have a tummy tuck too, selfish bitch). I’ve done a lot of growing (physically and emotionally) and learning about myself. I’ve spent a lot of time alone. I know how it feels to be lonely, and I don’t want to do it again. Thankfully, I won’t have to.

I’ve tried to give Ryan space so that he could continue to enjoy life without being completely burdened by his whiny pregnant wife, but sometimes I wish I would have been more demanding. I know I couldn’t have asked for much more than what he gave me though. He’s worth his weight in gold, and I’ve learned that much. I’m pretty fucking lucky to have a guy like him, even if he can’t clean a bathroom to save his life. And even though I spent MANY MANY weekend nights alone, bored silly because who the fuck wants to hang out with the pregnant girl? Not even me!

And that is the thing that I say to myself when I'm feeling lonely and pathetically sorry for myself. I’ve spent a lot of time doing that. But for all of the time I’ve spent feeling sorry for myself, I’ve also found that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t give this up to have my old life back. That seems crazy. I wouldn’t turn back the hands of time and used a condom that day. This is a struggle that I needed.

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Ok, pregnancy talk OVER with for today.

Speaking of struggle, I'm KILLING myself by daring to look at the Birkenstock website. Who knew that Birkenstock had so many cute shoes? Case in point, these little numbers. God, if I only had $120 bucks to spend on a pair of shoes.

And a big thank you to my favorite peon, Kate, who sent me this. Fuzzball will love it. So cute. You guys are seriously spoiling me. Stop it! No, don't!

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Et tu, Target?
Kate mentioned in my comments section about how Target sucks, and I agreed that that used to be my catch phrase when I worked there. But now I know it REALLY sucks. (Thanks for the link, Greg.)

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