And onto the musings!
Recently, I alluded on Facebook to a list of prenatal observations I've been keeping these last several months, which prompted my cousin to ask for the rest. Now that I'm halfway through this pregnancy thing (only 4 and a half months left to go... Holy crap...), I figured I'd satisfy my cousin's curiosity and list a bunch of them, not only for my own entertainment, but to see if anyone else out there has had experiences that resonate with some of this stuff.
Prenatal Observations #1-10:
1. I felt more energetic when I had Mono. I spent 3 straight months hinging on the edge of a catatonic episode. Picture that scene in HP3 when the dementors are sucking out Harry's soul. Now, replace the shrouded skeleton thing with a Teddy Graham, shove it under Harry Potter's shirt, and swap me in for the boy wizard. Welcome to my entire first trimester.
2. "Morning Sickness" is a horrifically inaccurate euphemism for "Neverending Stomach Hell". Because IT LASTS ALL DAY. Hell, I actually felt better in the mornings than I did at night, when it seemed like my Spidey Sense was warning me against anything and everything edible and/or aromatic. FOR NINE STRAIGHT WEEKS. I still can't bring myself to occupy the same space as a sprig of Rosemary, formerly my favorite cooking herb. *cries*
3. The world loves to compare the size of your fetus to food. Not only is such an analogy disturbing given your fetus has taken up residence in your belly-type-area, it's a pretty inaccurate way of determining the actual size. Every Tuesday I get an update from TheBump.com saying stuff like, "This week, your baby is the size of a cantaloupe," and I find myself thinking, "Wait, is that a genetically modified cantaloupe or an organic cantaloupe? One is much bigger than the other, if also much less flavorful. What if we're talking an heirloom variety? Ugh, all these food comparisons are making me nauseous..."
4. Pregnancy inadvertently gives people a stupid excuse to talk openly about your weight. This one bothers me a lot. Many people cannot help but say things like, "Look how thin/big you are! I bet you're going to be rail thin/enormous by the end of your pregnancy!" It baffles me how many well-meaning individuals tread into this unwelcome territory. How much weight I will or will not gain is not something I want to think obsessively about, especially seeing how little control I have over the situation. These days, the baby calls all the shots anyway, and if he wants me to indulge in an entire package of Hershey Bliss while screeching my metabolism to a halt, then I challenge anyone to stand between me and the bag o' chocolate, waistline be damned!
5. My hormones have made me a lunatic. One day, my coworker thought it'd be funny to jokingly challenge me on a grammar change I made to one of his letters in front of the rest of my office mates. The result: I almost announced [read: shouted] my resignation, after which I marched into the break room and, not finding the water cooler supplied with a full water jug, went to rage!retrieve the gazillion-pound refill jug by myself. I then went outside to continue my ragefest. When I "came to", I realized that "The Incredible Hulk" could have easily been inspired by some comic book writer's pregnant wife.
6. Public transportation and pregnancy do not mix. Between the hours of 4 and 5PM, without fail, the Gallery Place metro station smells like something has died and rotted in the trash bin. This is also the time of day when the trains are running on manual controls, which produces a ride home akin to mounting an electric bronco in a seedy Texan bar. Also, by this time of day, tourists meandering around the Nation's Capitol have had plenty of time to accrue a layer of sweaty stink sufficient to take down a mob (or so my nose perceives it) which mingles with the putrid trash smell in a most unwelcome way. To add insult to injury, the only people who will give up their seat on the train to a pregnant woman are - you guessed it - other women. No word yet on when I may be airlifted to/from my workplace...
7. My brain has been eaten by baby thoughts. It is what it sounds like. I can (baby) hardly (baby) think (baby) about (baby) anything (baby) else. ....Baby.
8. I am not afraid of childbirth. A sobering yet welcome byproduct of miscarrying is that I no longer fear the pain of labor and delivery. Even if my body winds up feeling like it's about to split at the seams from trying to deliver something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon, losing a baby makes other types of pain seem... well, less painful.
9. My body pillow is MY NEW BEST FRIEND. The creakier my joints get from all that Relaxin, the more I am becoming entirely dependent on my body pillow for a good night's sleep. It envelops me in soft, delicious, cushy goodness, keeping me off my back whilst I burrow my face against it like a toddler with an oversized lovey. It is the best. Thing. Ever.
10. Everyone must guess the sex of the baby. This isn't actually a huge irritant until people start going to great lengths to figure it out, pontificating, projecting, and poking included. Case in point: I was made to lie down while my cousin dangled a pendulum over my stomach, asserting that if it swayed back and forth, I was going to have a boy, and if it turned in circles, I was going to have a girl. It did both before stopping dead over my belly button. I was like, "No really, I can wait for the 20-week sono."
That's all for this installment, albeit there are many more observations to note. :) Honestly, despite all the hormone-amplified irritants on this list, we are, of course, beyond happy about being pregnant. Which brings me to the latest bit of news:
We're having a boy! :D (This major event produced at least 3 prenatal observations by itself, mind you.)
Mum's the word on the name for now, but it goes without saying we look forward to when we can announce it to the world. In the meantime, thanks for indulging my brain dump, and to all the mamas and mamas-to-be out there, Happy Mother's Day!
PS:
amused