Attention pregnant women who have not yet reached their third trimester.
It SUCKS! The word “comfort” is erased from your vocabulary almost immediately.
Which is worse? The first trimester or the third? Who’s to say? At least in the third trimester you aren’t nauseated anymore but there is only constant pain and discomfort. I find myself getting angry again at the women who describe pregnancy as “a beautifully wonderful process.” Believe me, the only beautiful part about pregnancy is the second trimester. Oh, and the kicking, when it isn’t in the ribs…or the bladder, or any other important organs.
Some of you who have never been pregnant may be thinking to yourselves how drastically different today’s blog is from yesterday’s but that’s what you get in pregnancy, a rollercoaster. SO GET USED TO IT!
Another joy that comes with the last month of pregnancy is people reminding you, “you’re almost done.” But am I? AM I!? Will it ever end? I’m so tired (I know that won’t change but at least it’ll be a different kind of tired) and so big. I don’t like feeling like this. I miss my exercises and keeping myself in shape (small children can literally hide from me under my belly and I’ll never find them) and now I cannot get out of bed without help. Not that I have any, so it’s kicking the pillow, that is supporting my body and giving me the occasional illusion of comfort, to the floor and shimmy to the edge of the bed and rolling, yes rolling, out onto the floor in hopes that my feet make first contact then getting enough leverage to get myself up. Just think, I also have to do this the 46 bajillion times I wake up in the middle of the night because the baby wants to roll over onto my bladder or screams for tater tots or oreo’s or something equally random at three in the morning.
Note to spouses of pregnant women: keep in mind that I have been very lucky in most cases and have had the food I craved on hand, except the night I needed McDonalds cause I dreamt of it and couldn’t have it because the zombies started to take over the world. That night/morning having no money was my real life zombie and forced me to eat a chicken pattie instead of a delicious McDouble with the largest fries in the world (oh how I wish they still offered the super size.) Anyways, I’m venturing WAY off topic, spouses. My point is, if she is not so lucky to have the food in hand, help her! Go get that food she’s craving. Who cares how late it is or how ridiculous the craving is, because regardless she won’t be able to get back to sleep until she has that meal and neither will you. Not if she is anything like me, anyways. My philosophy on it would be, “I didn’t do this on my own! I suffer, you suffer.” So, the sooner you get her food, the sooner you can go back to sleep and still be well rested for work tomorrow and the less likely you will have a crying, blubbery mess on your hands because you not getting her food at three in the morning will somehow be tied to the fact that you don’t love her and the baby and you’re leaving them because the stapler at your work is a nicer shape than her and doesn’t have saggy, stretch marked boobs. Just save yourself the headache. Your logic may tell you that going out for the food may be more trouble than it is worth but trust me when I tell you, IT IS NOT! Just say, “yes, dear” and give her a kiss and get her food.
To those women who also suffer in the last few weeks with me, are we really almost there? Am I the only one who swears it won’t ever end, because I swear, it totally won’t. On some days I’m OK with it and not rushing it at all and other days I just cry and cry. Or I spend my day like today, skipping my homework to sleep ALL day. I’ve never been more indecisive in my entire life or more exhausted. I’ve hardly left my bed today, even as I write this I am laying in bed, with my tablet rather than getting up and moving a foot and a half to my computer. Besides that would require another roll. But you can bet what I’m going to do when I’m finished writing this blog, yep, going back to sleep.