Things I Think About - Cub Thumping
It's been a busy, giant summer, and I have been quite delinquent in writing to this journal. Along with months of major work transitions, a filming project in June, and more events one summer can shake a stick at, I have hit the end point of my first pregnancy and all the exhaustion/discomfort that goes with it.
My official due date is this coming Sunday, though I have had steadily increasing pelvic aches and slowly intensifying irregular contractions for a few weeks now. I can't walk around without my entire stomach tightening up, and the recent addition of interesting muscle spasms in my back and butt. In other words, the piglet is about to leave the realm of conceptual chest-burster and introduce herself to us as a little person in her own right.
Pregnancy is a fascinating progression. The first trimester is like a surreal, dirty, barfy joke. It's a bit mind melting to wrap your head around another living being at that stage of the game. All you're sure of is that food is no longer enjoyable and indulgences like booze aren't acceptable. I mean, sure, I had extra help in questioning the reality of such a situation. But I can't really relate to the early-on baby enthusiasm, as I was a bit too wrapped up in hitting all the benchmarks for survival and health. I have a very strong tendency to put off accepting a reality until I know it's actually gonna happen, no whammies.
While my second trimester experience took a bit longer to get to (I stayed in barfy land for an extra month or two), I felt great. I was active, enjoyed food again and was incredibly mobile and motivated. It was during this stage, in May, when the cub-thumping began.
Belly wiggling is fascinating sensation, and the piglet is a mover. More specifically, she thumps sometimes. It can last a good five minutes and is this regular slow drumbeat of impact. I'm assuming it's some sort of fidget or experiment with her surroundings. But she was doing this sort of thumping the first time TJ felt her move.
Now, I actually really, really like kids. I've never been obsessed about babies themselves, 'cause my favorite part is when kids start talking. And the more opinionated and independent they are, the more charming I find them. I've always heard that the attachment is different when you're having a kid of your own, and I'm sure I haven't even been hit yet with that full wave of affection. But I can say that this whole sharing stomach space thing does give you a feeling for personality at an earlier stage in the game.
While I know there are an infinite number of surprises in store from this little lady, between over active piglet wiggles and cub-thumping, this child is a mover and a shaker. At one doctor's visit, I was told I needed to count the movements morning and night, and that she should hit 10 movements over the course of two hours. HA! There were more than 10 cub-thumps just this morning in the course of way less than five minutes.
We've been going in to the doctor twice a week since the beginning of July, and the tests they run involve her movements and breathing and the like. Both tests are allotted half an hour for her to hit specific movement marks. She tends to complete them in less than 10 minutes. Her record is 4 minutes. Not even born yet, and she already tests well.
Due to all this movement, I am pretty much convinced that this little lady is gonna take after her father. He's the fidgety mover and shaker in our marriage. He's the fiery, enthusiastic Aries. And I'm the steady, stubborn Taurus who can spend hours sitting still and unwinding, absorbing the quiet.
It's these sorts of details that make me suspect a fiery little Leo vs. an earthy reserved Virgo. Though, regardless of her actual birth date, I suspect her to be stubborn enough to mock the stars. She's got stubborn in plenty, from both sides of the family.
I have to admit I'm fascinated by the last transition of pregnancy. The part where you cross over from "this is real and I feel her wiggling" to "I'm uncomfortable, what's the delay, let's do this fucking thing". Surreality replaced with impatience and a sense of urgency. Though that urgency may actually be about bathroom visits and the need to never be forced to stand still in one spot. Sitting, awesome. Walking, acceptable. Standing still? Fuck you.
Anyway, I am quite literally days away from the full nine months/forty weeks, achey, impatient, intimidated and fully intrigued to meet this little, fidgety lady. Also, I now completely understand why unpaid maternity leave is a cruel fucking joke in our country. Having spent the last two weeks at work having mild but increasing irregular contractions has required all of my sticking power. And yes, I have hit the point where no matter what I do I am exhausted and fussity. Yesterday I fully resented being a girl at all.
Helluvan adventure, and I am completely ready for the big event. In fact, it's kinda a dirty trick that the three (or more?) week belly spasm warm up act sucks so much energy. Who needs to go into a 24 hour pushing fest already worn out from the "meaningless" lead up spasms? Me, apparently.
Yes, little lady, your mother often resents being a girl entirely. We'll discuss this more at length when you hit puberty. In the meantime, just know it's way awesome out here. Plus, you'll get to stretch those thumpy legs of yours. Pretty sure it's your dad's turn for kicks.
My official due date is this coming Sunday, though I have had steadily increasing pelvic aches and slowly intensifying irregular contractions for a few weeks now. I can't walk around without my entire stomach tightening up, and the recent addition of interesting muscle spasms in my back and butt. In other words, the piglet is about to leave the realm of conceptual chest-burster and introduce herself to us as a little person in her own right.
Pregnancy is a fascinating progression. The first trimester is like a surreal, dirty, barfy joke. It's a bit mind melting to wrap your head around another living being at that stage of the game. All you're sure of is that food is no longer enjoyable and indulgences like booze aren't acceptable. I mean, sure, I had extra help in questioning the reality of such a situation. But I can't really relate to the early-on baby enthusiasm, as I was a bit too wrapped up in hitting all the benchmarks for survival and health. I have a very strong tendency to put off accepting a reality until I know it's actually gonna happen, no whammies.
While my second trimester experience took a bit longer to get to (I stayed in barfy land for an extra month or two), I felt great. I was active, enjoyed food again and was incredibly mobile and motivated. It was during this stage, in May, when the cub-thumping began.
Belly wiggling is fascinating sensation, and the piglet is a mover. More specifically, she thumps sometimes. It can last a good five minutes and is this regular slow drumbeat of impact. I'm assuming it's some sort of fidget or experiment with her surroundings. But she was doing this sort of thumping the first time TJ felt her move.
Now, I actually really, really like kids. I've never been obsessed about babies themselves, 'cause my favorite part is when kids start talking. And the more opinionated and independent they are, the more charming I find them. I've always heard that the attachment is different when you're having a kid of your own, and I'm sure I haven't even been hit yet with that full wave of affection. But I can say that this whole sharing stomach space thing does give you a feeling for personality at an earlier stage in the game.
While I know there are an infinite number of surprises in store from this little lady, between over active piglet wiggles and cub-thumping, this child is a mover and a shaker. At one doctor's visit, I was told I needed to count the movements morning and night, and that she should hit 10 movements over the course of two hours. HA! There were more than 10 cub-thumps just this morning in the course of way less than five minutes.
We've been going in to the doctor twice a week since the beginning of July, and the tests they run involve her movements and breathing and the like. Both tests are allotted half an hour for her to hit specific movement marks. She tends to complete them in less than 10 minutes. Her record is 4 minutes. Not even born yet, and she already tests well.
Due to all this movement, I am pretty much convinced that this little lady is gonna take after her father. He's the fidgety mover and shaker in our marriage. He's the fiery, enthusiastic Aries. And I'm the steady, stubborn Taurus who can spend hours sitting still and unwinding, absorbing the quiet.
It's these sorts of details that make me suspect a fiery little Leo vs. an earthy reserved Virgo. Though, regardless of her actual birth date, I suspect her to be stubborn enough to mock the stars. She's got stubborn in plenty, from both sides of the family.
I have to admit I'm fascinated by the last transition of pregnancy. The part where you cross over from "this is real and I feel her wiggling" to "I'm uncomfortable, what's the delay, let's do this fucking thing". Surreality replaced with impatience and a sense of urgency. Though that urgency may actually be about bathroom visits and the need to never be forced to stand still in one spot. Sitting, awesome. Walking, acceptable. Standing still? Fuck you.
Anyway, I am quite literally days away from the full nine months/forty weeks, achey, impatient, intimidated and fully intrigued to meet this little, fidgety lady. Also, I now completely understand why unpaid maternity leave is a cruel fucking joke in our country. Having spent the last two weeks at work having mild but increasing irregular contractions has required all of my sticking power. And yes, I have hit the point where no matter what I do I am exhausted and fussity. Yesterday I fully resented being a girl at all.
Helluvan adventure, and I am completely ready for the big event. In fact, it's kinda a dirty trick that the three (or more?) week belly spasm warm up act sucks so much energy. Who needs to go into a 24 hour pushing fest already worn out from the "meaningless" lead up spasms? Me, apparently.
Yes, little lady, your mother often resents being a girl entirely. We'll discuss this more at length when you hit puberty. In the meantime, just know it's way awesome out here. Plus, you'll get to stretch those thumpy legs of yours. Pretty sure it's your dad's turn for kicks.