the joys of pregnancy
Heh. That’s a good one.
I look at this pregnancy differently than all my others since this very well may be my last one. And I’m OK with that. Sort of.
For all you men and childless women, let me explain something: feeling a baby moving inside your belly is the coolest thing in the whole world, and while I’m not totally religious, God got something super right when (s)he decided that women must carry the fetus in their bellies. Super right. While I know Matt’s not super upset that he doesn’t get to be the pregnant one (he claims he couldn’t do it it, and I agree,) he gets jealous that I get to feel all the movement that goes with it.
So there’s a joy. Baby kicking.
Another joy is knowing it’s only 40 weeks long. That’s a HUGE joy. Especially when you’re winding down to the end of the long journey. I am constantly thankful that I’m not an elephant. They gestate for 640 days. 22 months. Really. That just plain sucks.
So back up to my pregnancy with Luca. While my body type is one to give babies plenty of room to grow, ie Claire, Luca chose that burrowing to the bottom of my torso was the best course of action. TMI ahead…..
….when I had to have my internal exams in the last 4 weeks, my doctor actually had to go around his head to find my cervix.
Let me tell you this – that felt awesome.
I’m brushing up on sarcasm. Bear with me now.
So when I half pushed him out (seriously, he was only a half a push shortly after my doctor told me not to sneeze,) I got a good look at him and all his naked glory, but the first thing I noticed was that my pelvis had been embossed on his skull.
Of course, so did all the nurses and my doctor. “Wow! He really WAS low! That’s your pelvis ingrained on his skull!” Neat.
So fast forward to last Wednesday. I was at my OB with the kids and Matt (he actually got to come for once!) and Dr. Olson measured my belly and walked away to write it on my chart. Then she shook her head, walked back over, measured again and poked on my belly. She then laughed at herself and said, “That’s where the butt is! Wow. This one’s low.”
“Lower than Luca?”
“Well, you’re measuring smaller than you did with your other two, but the baby seems to burrowed up into your hips. The baby is growing just fine, it’s just how you’re carrying…as you usually do.”
Now, while I’m constantly reminded by her that I make her job too easy, she did tell me with Luca, “Now, don’t you wait until your contractions are too close together. I want a call when you’re a steady 5-7 minutes. Not 3-5 like I tell most Moms. You’re a quick one. I’m not going to be delivering this baby on 28. You understand?”
And she was totally serious.
She wasn’t thrilled with me when I called her and they were a steady 5 minutes apart. Let’s just say that…”Get your butt in the car now! Have someone else pack your bag if you haven’t already! If I don’t get a call from the nurse that you’ve arrived at Magee’s in 45 minutes, I’m calling you back!”
When Carly and I got to the reception area, the nurse said, “We’ve been expecting you.”
So back on track, this kid. It’s low. It’s so low. A coworker said to me the other day, “You are carrying that kid SO low. How’s it not to your knees?”
Feels like it.
Sure, I don’t have the major pains that most preggo women have and I can still do all my normal bending, well within reason, and I can still breathe fantastically and I don’t have rib pain…the constant feeling that the baby is about to slide out of me is unnerving at best. (Did you know about the rib pain, Jess? Sorry to be a bearer or bad news…)
I should stop complaining. I just had to get that out there. I LOVE being pregnant. So much that I haven’t completely ruled out a fourth kid. I also haven’t ruled out a fourth kid because A.) I haven’t experienced the madness of three kids and B.) the kids that I DO have are amazing, so they make parenting a bit easier for the most part. I’m not some sick preggo addict. I’m not the kind of person who is obsessed with little babies. In fact, my favorite stage so far with the kids have been about the 18-24 month range. They can understand more, walk, communicate and feed themselves. And while I love little tiny babies, they are SO. MUCH. WORK. that sometimes it’s incredibly exhausting. I have always felt that once I got the baby to the three month stage, I’ve come out of the woods…sorta.
Boy this post has gone all over the place. So goes the mind of a pregnant woman. We’re slightly unstable.
The not so joys of pregnancy is this: The peeing. Constantly. The bad skin. The hormones. (I mean, really? I’m telling Matt a simple story about getting the mail and I start to bawl.) The weight gain. The stretch marks. The itchy belly skin. The fact that there’s a foreign object blocking all other organs thus causing a major slow down, if you get my drift. The constant worry that your baby is moving TOO much that it may get tangled in the umbilical cord. Then constantly worrying that it didn’t move ENOUGH. Oh – and the not being able to sleep on your back deal. I’m such a back sleeper that this bothers me the most.
But that’s about it. While I’m pregnant, the baby is portable. I take it everywhere with me. I don’t have to feed it, change it or bathe it. It doesn’t cry. It doesn’t schemp out. It’s just there. Growing. Being a baby.
And that’s all right with me.
Oh and here’s me at 30 weeks: