I don't intend this to be a "MY HUSBAND IS AMAZING" post but it probably will be anyway.
A quick story: there is an Amish furniture mill not far from where my mom and her partner camp on the weekends, and for a flat, low rate they let you come in and take a truckload of leftover wood pieces which campers love to have for their campfires. They roped me into helping them once, and I was a teenager-ish at the time--I reckon maybe 17 or 18. And I'm not the most beautiful girl world and I'm in shorts and a T-shirt and as we're loading the truck up I notice a small crowd has formed of unmarried Amish dudes (you know, because they don't have beards yet) and they are staring at me. Dudes don't check me out so I got paranoid, like maybe a titty was hanging out or something, so I kept adjusting all of my bits. When we finally drove off they all waved goodbye to me. I was mystified.
"Mom, I think all those Amish guys were staring at me."
"Well, no wonder, Wendy, you've got the body of a child-bearer!"
Forget for a moment the way you could take that statement as a major insult (I didn't) but instead the idea that I look like I was made to make babies: wide hips, big boobies, built solid. I could make your babies, feed em, churn the butter and milk the cows before 5 AM.
I'm almost 33 weeks and it turns out I do seem to have a baby-makin' body. Every day or two I talk to my mom and she asks how I'm feeling and I always say "good!" and I'm not really lying, ever. I was prepared, for whatever reason, for pregnancy to be a nightmare. It was, when I had morning sickness and could do nothing but feebly eat popsicles on the couch--I couldn't concentrate on anything so I would lie on the couch staring into space--but because that morning sickness ate balls so goddamned bad everything since has been a dream. If I think about it I can remember that horrible 24/7 queasiness, the way smells would set me off, and when I compare it to any ache or pain I have now it's nothing.
"The baby's head has engaged a bit and sometimes it makes my pelvis hurt a little when I'm lying down, but at least I'm not puking!"
"I have to get up at least twice a night to pee, but at least I'm not puking!"
"The baby has its feet braced against my ribs, but at least I'm not puking!"
Which means that ever since my morning sickness finished around, I dunno, 14 weeks or so? Everything has been pretty amazing. I'm more... Interested in watching my body and the way it reacts to things and how it's changing. I've got that dark line from my belly button to my bits. I've got stretch marks happening along my sides because the baby has pushed forward a lot--they don't hurt or itch, but it does look a bit like I've been attacked by Freddy Krueger. If I lie down for more than 5 minutes the baby starts freaking out and my belly lurches all over the place. That's a weird feeling--the feeling from the inside of something pushing to get to the outside, and being able to see my stomach jump. When the baby has hiccups, you can see my belly do tiny little jumps. My boobs leak, which means I'm wearing a bra with nursing pads in it 24 hours a day. I've had to stop shaving my legs, since I only take showers (we have a separate shower and bathtub) and I can't bend over in the shower stall without the baby lurching forward, feet first, straight into my lungs. That's possibly the most awful feeling--when I bend over a bit too far and I get feet in my lungs. It doesn't hurt, really, but all the wind goes out of you at once and it's like you've just finished sprinting in an instant. It always takes me a minute or so to recover from bending over too far. And since that's something I have control over it's not a big deal.
Going into this as a fat girl I expected to have my fair share of complications, but *knock on wood* everything is progressing so well. I've gained 10 pounds so far and am on track to gain no more than 15 (which is my target as a chubster). I did my one-hour glucose test for gestational diabetes and it came back fine, thank god--diabetes runs heavy on my dad's side of the family and I was terrified I'd develop it, but so far everything looks great. My blood pressure is a bit high, but I don't have any symptoms associated with it becoming a disorder--no headaches or sudden swelling or anything. My prenatal group this week is doing a tour of the labor and delivery unit and we're pre-registering for delivery. It's really, really happening.
I feel so goddamned fortunate--I know there are a million complications, a million reasons that pregnancy could suck, but I've been so effing lucky. I'm nowhere near the point yet where I'm thinking "AARGH GET IT OUT." I know I will reach that point at some time in the next two months, but right now, even with having to pee every five minutes and tossing and turning in my sleep, I still just love to lie in bed and watch my belly move while Flump practices kickboxing. I love this closeness, feeling the baby inside me, knowing this is a point that is unique in time to now--a time where I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, where it was a part of me, ate what I ate, heard what I heard, warm and comfortable and it was just me and Flump. It's a secret that soon won't be a secret anymore--anybody can see the baby and hold it and love it but right now, it's just me and the baby. My little surprise.
Dave, unsurprisingly, has been amazing and I think that's what makes me want to have this baby more than anything--the chance for Dave to finally hold Flumpers in his arms, to get to know the baby as well as I do. We bought a glider for the baby's room so there's a place to sit when I'm breastfeeding or Dave's feeding the baby (I plan on pumping so we can share feeding duties) and the thought of Dave sitting in the glider with Flump curled up against his chest... Well. It's not hard to make me emotional but that definitely works. We worked hard and finally have the baby's room all put together, and we are both so happy it's done--we're ready now, if anything happens. I know he's getting anxious for this baby to arrive so he can finally be a dad--I've been dealing with the reality of a baby squiggling around inside of me for months but even when he feels and sees the baby kick it's still not as real to him as it is to me and that's understandable. I just can't wait for Dave to meet his son or daughter. AARGH IT'S GOING TO BE AMAZING.
"Mom, I think all those Amish guys were staring at me."
"Well, no wonder, Wendy, you've got the body of a child-bearer!"
Forget for a moment the way you could take that statement as a major insult (I didn't) but instead the idea that I look like I was made to make babies: wide hips, big boobies, built solid. I could make your babies, feed em, churn the butter and milk the cows before 5 AM.
I'm almost 33 weeks and it turns out I do seem to have a baby-makin' body. Every day or two I talk to my mom and she asks how I'm feeling and I always say "good!" and I'm not really lying, ever. I was prepared, for whatever reason, for pregnancy to be a nightmare. It was, when I had morning sickness and could do nothing but feebly eat popsicles on the couch--I couldn't concentrate on anything so I would lie on the couch staring into space--but because that morning sickness ate balls so goddamned bad everything since has been a dream. If I think about it I can remember that horrible 24/7 queasiness, the way smells would set me off, and when I compare it to any ache or pain I have now it's nothing.
"The baby's head has engaged a bit and sometimes it makes my pelvis hurt a little when I'm lying down, but at least I'm not puking!"
"I have to get up at least twice a night to pee, but at least I'm not puking!"
"The baby has its feet braced against my ribs, but at least I'm not puking!"
Which means that ever since my morning sickness finished around, I dunno, 14 weeks or so? Everything has been pretty amazing. I'm more... Interested in watching my body and the way it reacts to things and how it's changing. I've got that dark line from my belly button to my bits. I've got stretch marks happening along my sides because the baby has pushed forward a lot--they don't hurt or itch, but it does look a bit like I've been attacked by Freddy Krueger. If I lie down for more than 5 minutes the baby starts freaking out and my belly lurches all over the place. That's a weird feeling--the feeling from the inside of something pushing to get to the outside, and being able to see my stomach jump. When the baby has hiccups, you can see my belly do tiny little jumps. My boobs leak, which means I'm wearing a bra with nursing pads in it 24 hours a day. I've had to stop shaving my legs, since I only take showers (we have a separate shower and bathtub) and I can't bend over in the shower stall without the baby lurching forward, feet first, straight into my lungs. That's possibly the most awful feeling--when I bend over a bit too far and I get feet in my lungs. It doesn't hurt, really, but all the wind goes out of you at once and it's like you've just finished sprinting in an instant. It always takes me a minute or so to recover from bending over too far. And since that's something I have control over it's not a big deal.
Going into this as a fat girl I expected to have my fair share of complications, but *knock on wood* everything is progressing so well. I've gained 10 pounds so far and am on track to gain no more than 15 (which is my target as a chubster). I did my one-hour glucose test for gestational diabetes and it came back fine, thank god--diabetes runs heavy on my dad's side of the family and I was terrified I'd develop it, but so far everything looks great. My blood pressure is a bit high, but I don't have any symptoms associated with it becoming a disorder--no headaches or sudden swelling or anything. My prenatal group this week is doing a tour of the labor and delivery unit and we're pre-registering for delivery. It's really, really happening.
I feel so goddamned fortunate--I know there are a million complications, a million reasons that pregnancy could suck, but I've been so effing lucky. I'm nowhere near the point yet where I'm thinking "AARGH GET IT OUT." I know I will reach that point at some time in the next two months, but right now, even with having to pee every five minutes and tossing and turning in my sleep, I still just love to lie in bed and watch my belly move while Flump practices kickboxing. I love this closeness, feeling the baby inside me, knowing this is a point that is unique in time to now--a time where I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, where it was a part of me, ate what I ate, heard what I heard, warm and comfortable and it was just me and Flump. It's a secret that soon won't be a secret anymore--anybody can see the baby and hold it and love it but right now, it's just me and the baby. My little surprise.
Dave, unsurprisingly, has been amazing and I think that's what makes me want to have this baby more than anything--the chance for Dave to finally hold Flumpers in his arms, to get to know the baby as well as I do. We bought a glider for the baby's room so there's a place to sit when I'm breastfeeding or Dave's feeding the baby (I plan on pumping so we can share feeding duties) and the thought of Dave sitting in the glider with Flump curled up against his chest... Well. It's not hard to make me emotional but that definitely works. We worked hard and finally have the baby's room all put together, and we are both so happy it's done--we're ready now, if anything happens. I know he's getting anxious for this baby to arrive so he can finally be a dad--I've been dealing with the reality of a baby squiggling around inside of me for months but even when he feels and sees the baby kick it's still not as real to him as it is to me and that's understandable. I just can't wait for Dave to meet his son or daughter. AARGH IT'S GOING TO BE AMAZING.