The Last Saturday Without a Baby
Well PPAers, we are a day away from meeting Miss Katy Belle via induction, unless she decides to bust out on her own before then. I haven’t been the best at tending to my blog baby, which is hopefully not a reflection on my ability to take care of my real baby. “I’m tired, I’ll just do it tomorrow.”
During the course of this pregnancy I have made several attempts at putting my thoughts down regarding my pregnancy experience here on the Pony. Usually I would get started and then get distracted by hunger or Law and Order. So, as my energy is up, I am clean and pretty, I have Kenny Rogers on the I-Pod, and an office pool is going for my labor to start today, I thought this might be a nice time to share some of the random posts I started but never finished over these last few months. A lot of these are passing thoughts that when strung all together may not tell the best story, but there you go.
I am not one of those women who feels like a magical vessel while I am pregnant. I feel more like a semi truck’s cab with this baby’s mobile home hitched onto me and I am hauling her down I-95 and we are taking up two lanes and no one can pass us. The downside is that I don’t have one of those small trucks with flashing lights in front and behind me making people aware of my wide load.
There are a few things that people have said to me, especially over this last month, that make me a tad crazy, though I know they aren’t intended to.
One of these is: “Try to relax! Remember, a watched pot never boils.”
Look, I AM THE POT. I am not a tea pot or a pot of pasta…I am a going past your due date, being larger than you have ever been in your life, having a person inside you going all Karate Kid, little sleep and a myriad of fluids coming out of you in the strangest of places (that’s right, more than one place, you go think on that) pot. How do you stop watching the pot when your pot is huge and keeps you from seeing your feet or putting on pants with any sense of dignity? Point is…you become obsessed with watching the pot. The pot is following you everywhere you go. You can feel the pot starting to heat up, so you watch it, then you realize the flame went out and you have been breathing gas for the last 5 minutes and you’re no longer about to boil so you try to not watch the pot, then the pot gets warm again, but its “false warming” and isn’t actually going to boil, so you try not to watch the pot, but again, you are the pot so you are always there.
P.S. Water takes about 8 to 10 minutes to boil.
P.S.S. you relax.
I also do not like being told I am going to have “Mommy Brain.”
Mommy brain…possibly one of the most insulting phrases I have ever heard. I am not saying I don’t understand the hormones and the sleep deprivation. I get it. I won’t be shooting with both mental barrels. I don’t mind being warned that I probably shouldn’t be applying to Mensa for a while. I got it. My body is making a baby…kinda of hard work, nothing it’s ever done before…maybe taking some of my other resources away but regardless making me one of the most powerful people on the planet…not some imbecile who should be spoken to like a 3 year old. MOMMY BRAIN! Barf. It is patronizing and belittling. It’s as if because I am having a baby, I am going to become a baby and should be addressed as such. It is disrespectful to the mental lapses I am going to have.
P.S. No one says Mommy brain when referring to impregnated aliens or monsters in horror films like Slither. Would you say “looks like someone has a case of mommy brain” to this?
Something I am looking forward to is saying farewell to maternity clothes. By the end of your pregnancy your clothing options are really more about coverage than style. “hmmmm, what tarp like combination shall I wear today? The bright pink tent or the bright orange tent?” A solid color top doesn’t sound bad until it is triple the fabric. You know when you go into the “adult” section of Spencers in the mall and pull out the giant, novelty underpants? Maternity clothes are like novelty underpants.
Plus you don’t want to buy a ton since you are only going to be pregnant for a little while, so you wind up having much less wardrobe rotation than you did as a non-pregnant person. When I wasn’t pregnant I didn’t wear the same shirt everyday. That was frowned upon…but apparently, if you are pregnant, that rule is out the window. It’s totally ok…cough.
Monday: “Look how cute you look! That shirt is so awesome. It makes you look awesome! You rock that orange color!”
Tuesday: “Hey…orange! So cute.”
Wendesday: “Did you get like 5 of the same shirt?”
Thursday: “Ummm…you should really take care of that chili stain.”
Friday: “At least tell me you are changing underwear.”
If I could do it over again, I would have probably not talked myself out of getting some new clothes during the last few weeks of pregnancy. I was under the impression these last few weeks would go by quickly or that my daughter would come early so it would be a waste of money to buy new maternity clothes. As a result, I got bigger and the clothes stayed the same size…so here I am, REALLY BIG, REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE, my pants too tight and my shirts not covering my belly completely, everything with mystery, belly stains that do not come out, basically having two dress options if I want to go into public. This is not an emotional booster during a time when you need every emotional booster you can get. When you hit 37/38 weeks, go buy at least 2 -3 pieces of clothing that you really like. It doesn’t matter if you give birth the next day.
I was never a fan of the whole “pregnancy is the one time you can just let yourself go, eat like a pig” mentality of several pregnancy books, and I don’t like the “go ahead and give up on your wardrobe/personal appearance…pretend you are always on your way to gym and wear sweats” mentality. Again, there si something dismissive and insulting about it, like being pregnant makes you less of a person.
I am not talking about the first few weeks…I GET IT EVERYONE…those weeks are going to be hard….or as people LOVE to tell us…MISERABLE! I will however, try to use my excitement about shedding my pregnant body to motivate me to put on clothes that make me feel good. Lucky for me, t-shirts make me feel GREAT! (you try being a t-shirt junkie and there being no t-shirt options available to you other than ones that say thinks like “Future Money Spender” or “Future Playboy Bunny On Board.”)
You think I made those up?
So there you go. Tomorrow we go in for our induction to get this party started since my body’s idea of a cruel joke is to not go into labor on it own…”ha ha ha, Biz LOVED being pregnant, lets keep her pregnant forever!”
I am pretty scared. Scared I won’t be able to handle the pain. Scared that when they pull her out of me and she is covered in blood and that white goop and god knows what else and they put her on my chest that I will bat her to the floor in horror. Sacred that I’ll think she smells bad. Scared that this experience is going to put me at my most vulnerable in front of strangers and Stefan. Scared that I can never go back to the life I knew a year ago. Scared…period.
I am also pretty excited. Excited that she will no longer be inside me. Excited that I get to see her and kiss her head and feet and belly. Excited that I am going to live through whatever labor and delivery is like. Excited that I get to play her music. Excited that I get to introduce her to all the awesome people in our life that are excited to meet her.
Which would be a good moment to say thank you to everyone locally and around the country…old friends, new friends, family…all of you…for your support and friendship over the last nine months. It has really been great. Even simple little comments on Facebook have made a difference. It makes us happy to know that you will be a part of Katy Belle’s life and that she will be even more awesome as a result.
Finally, I am lucky. Lucky that I get to do this with Stefan. He is my best friend and totally responsible for ALL OF THIS. J Lucky that I know without a doubt that he will help me through all the scary things and will get to share all the exciting things. Lucky that I have him to hold my hand. Lucky that my daughter will have him as a father. He has been really great through this whole pregnancy and I could not have done this without him. I am very much looking forward to all of the up, down, good, bad, everythings that we are about to share. I would not want to share them with anyone else. I love you Stefan.
Don’t forget to buy me that Subway sandwich I haven’t been able to have for the last nine months, or I’ll kill you.