The Whining Spot

Winnie the Pooh has his Thinking Spot, I have determined that I have my Whining Spot, and this is it.

It seems that lately all I do on this blog is whine. Wa Wa Wah!

Sorry to all of you people who are looking for something cheerful and cool. But 9mo. perggos in July are rarely cheerful unless they have been told that their doctor will release them from their bloated bondage and mine has not.

We did a NST (non stress test) yesterday, and everything was fine. Then they measured my fluid, and it was up from last time.

So no reasons that could lead me to bully my doc into helping me out.
Baby is content to chill where he is and torture his Mommy.

::Sigh:: (promptly cut off by lack of room for lungs to expand to accommodate a true, full sigh)

This child has been named, but I am reluctant to type it. I don't think most people will like it.

Oh well.

I am pretty sure we are going with Roanan Douglas Dunston. Roan for short. It is Irish-Gaelic for little seal.

Little seals are cute, happy, wiggly, and covered in a layer of fat, just like my baby.

Now, if this fat happy baby would just get the heck outta me, I would whine a lot less.

Burn and Itch

My legs, ankles and feet are so swollen and the skin pulled so tight that it burns as if I have a terrible sunburn.

I have legs that are straight down from the fattest part of my thigh down to my toes with no further definition to show what is a knee, calf or ankle.

I would have to say I have thightoes instead of legs or even cankles.

I am getting stretch marks on the tops of my feet and backs of my knees from all the water retention.

30 days left? You have got to be kidding me.

Somebody save me.

I am so hot!

Angelina Jolie is always being qouted about how wonderful and sexy pregnacy is. She is right.

Pregnancy is super sexy. Every time I think I have reached new heights of pregnancy hotness I always am surprised with something more.

Some things that make pregnancy hot:

1.Throw up.
What is better or hotter than a woman who barfs uncontrollably? What man doesn't want to see a woman's meal twice?

2. Incontinence.
Some people like a woman who pees her pants. Wasn't it Adam Sandler who said, "Your not cool unless you pee your pants?"

3.Sweating.
Men like to see a woman all hot and bothered right?

4.Swelling.
What man doesn't like to see a woman in thigh highs? White medical thigh highs that make a woman's legs look like those of the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man. Guys love marshmallows. Plus if you are LDS, the marshmallow look is even more complete with the super sexy underwear.

5.Stretch Marks.
Never stop for directions again, just use the map on your wife's hips! Men love this. They can't get enough of not having to ask for directions. Need to get to the next city? Check out my left thigh. The short cuts are marked in deep purple.

6.Getting out of bed.
What man doesn't like to feel strong and powerful. And what better way to feel that than tugging your nearly two hundred pound bloated woman in and out of beds, chairs and cars! Makes a man feel strong!

Maybe her thoughts on the beauty of pregnancy have something to do with the fact that she has millions of dollars, and beautiful big house, no worries, several nannies, a personal trainer, personal chef, a post C-Section tummy tuck and lipo, not to mention Brad Pitt.

Nah, I think its the stretch marks.

My Big Cheeky Baby

This baby is about 6 pounds this week. My doctor says I am for sure only 31 weeks and 4 days. So I have an enormous baby. There is nothing wrong with him, or me, he is just huge.
Some people give birth to babies this big, full term. Not me. I still have eight weeks to go. That TWO months.
I don't know how he can continue to to gain a 1/2 pound a week for the next two months. That is another 4 pounds.
The doctor says my baby could easily be a 10-11 pound baby.
For a first baby? That is crazy!

My questions:

1. Where will the skin come from to cover another 4 pounds worth of baby? I am pulled tighter than a drum right now!

2. Where the heck will the baby fit in there? He is already clear up in my ribs, making himself know with super strong karate kicks to the lungs.

3. What will I do with this massive body I have become for the next two months? I can't sit and breathe and I can't lay down all day or I will go nuts. And, once I am laying down, it takes about a full min. to get back up.

4. How will anything get clean? I can't reach the floor to pick up anything for the life of me, and forget pulling stuff out of the dryer, let alone putting stuff in the bottom two dresser drawers or bottom dishwasher rack.

5. How will I survive the heat of July? I know that people have been pregnant in the summer and it has been miserable, but how many people what been this utterly huge during the heat of July? I mean, I feel like few women will understand just how big I feel. I am going to be a size that most women never have to get to. Let alone with their first baby. I am already the size of most full term women, with eight weeks left!

Here is the doctors plan.
If I go into labor early on my own, that is fine. He will let me try to push out the baby on my own. But he will only let me try for an hour before he calls C-Section. Who knows. Maybe I have a huge pelvis to go with my huge baby. Maybe the baby is a bit smaller than the Ultrasound says, and I get him out with not problem. This is what I hope happens.
If I don't go into labor before 39 weeks (July 20th) he will do a scheduled C-Section.

All I know is, I am not wasting my money on newborn sizes. I am going straight for the 0-3 month, and hoping that those aren't too small.

I am so freaked out by hospital, needles, catheters, and wounds. How the hell am I going to :

A. Get an epidural when I am not in current pain. I can see it if I am in horrible labor pains and I know it is going to make me feel all better. But the thought of feeling just fine and happily plopping down of my own free will to have a six inch needle inserted into my spine is just not acceptable. How do I know this guy with the needle knows what he is doing?

B. How am I going to lay on an operating table, knowing my guts are open while I am awake. Hearing and smelling everything that is going on? I will be a total wreck. I am not equipped to handle that without totally hyperventilating, barfing my guts out (the ones that are not already on the operating table) and then passing out cold.

C. How am I going to go home with a gaping wound and a new baby that I want to nurse.

I know am being a wuss, and that people have C-sections all the time, but don't judge me. Just humor me. I am terrified of hospitals.

Depressed

So my doctor says that he is not going to change my due date after all. Such a male. He has obviously never had a six pound creature living amidst his bowls.

If you think about it pregnancy is really freaking weird.

I mean, you grow to the size and shape of a mamoth sea walrus. Your skin begins to take on the look and texture of a 3-D road map. Your face bloats, and you gain a few extra chins.

You either can't pee, or can't stop peeing.

Ugh.

I thought I was almost done.

I am officially huge.

There is a point when you go from cute pregnant to huge pregnant. That point has been reached. Today I crushed a small BYU student.
I am officially huge.
John and I went to the doctor today, and followed up our appointment (which was fine by the way) with lunch at a place called Jason's Deli. I love their fruit salad, and veggie sandwiches, but most of all their carrot cake. Yeah, I ordered all of that today.

You need to know one thing about this restaurant. The booths are made up of benches and tables that are not attached to the floor or wall, so they move a little now and then.

I was working my way out of the booth, which takes some doing, and when I finally got up the entire bench slid. Unfortunately there was a 100lb. female BYU student having lunch with her Dad behind me, and she was suddenly pinned between her table and the rouge bench.

She and her Dad looked mad, and offended. I would be too. Then I turned fully around to apologise and they saw my "condition". Her Dad giggled as I tried to apologise and run away as fast as possible.

I crushed another person. I had no idea I had become this massive. Oh dear.

John of course thought it was highly entertaining.

I am mortified.

19 weeks and I feel like an Airport!

You know you are getting into the nity gity of pregnancy when you start to feel like an international airport.

I have a dark line down the middle of my belly now. I showed it to John and he said it looks like a landing strip.

Landing strip?

LANDING STRIP!

Does this man value his life?

He is right. It does look like a landing strip.

Then I noticed I am also developing practically neon signs that say "Food court here."
All I need now if for a little man in orange to jump out of my shallow belly button, slap a couple air traffic lights on my expanding butt and start directing traffic with mini orange flags. There are plenty of people to direct too. Nurses, Doctors, Ultasound techs, and their numbers are only going to climb.

Another new development in the world of pregnancy is that I am no longer allowed to wear hi-heels to work. That's right. Husband has chucked them all out after I popped the straps off a pair on Friday. My feet were so swollen that My little Mary Jane's literally burst their buttons.

I have what I have been dreading the most. Cankles. Those are ankles the same thickness as your calf.

They were so puffy that I couldn't stand up straight because the tops of my feet were crushing against the front of my shins.

John had to rub the puffiness out for a full hour before the sausages at the bottom of my legs started to resemble ankles and feet again.

I had to buy new flats for work, and then spent an hour re-hemming all of my pants for flats.

I am a big fan of heels. I think they thin me out. Give me a little height. I have all of my work slacks hemmed for 5 inch heels. It was so sad to cut five full inches of fabric off them all. I could have made a freaking quilt with all the fabric.

Now I will not only have to be a round pregnant woman, but a short and stumpy one too.

By the way, baby is the size of a Grapefruit and my uterus is the size of a Cantaloupe. We will find out tomorrow what this baby is.....
Now I am going to go eat some fruit. All of analogies are making me hungry.

Cranky Pregnant Lady Venting

**Warning: The following are the rantings of a hormonal woman in need of a good nap.

I have found a few consistent things about being pregnant, some are great and some are downright annoying.

Today I will be listing the annoying things, because that is the kind of mood I am in.

When you are pregnant everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, has something to say to you about it. The funny thing is that the top people on that list are the ones who would logically seem to know the least about it.

The top three offenders:

1. Older women who have not had a baby in upwards of 20 years.

This group has a tendency to tell you every possible horrible thing that happened to them, their cousin, their sister and their dog when it comes to pregnancy and especially childbirth. Half of this group loves to over worry an already fretfully hormonal woman with news of new horrible in utero illnesses and side effects from the world around you.
The other half tells you a lot of "back in my day" stories, inferring that you are silly to follow your doctors stringent food limiting rules etc. because they didn't do that 20 years ago. They also like to tell you that you are doing most everything wrong because that is not how they did it themselves.

2. Younger women who have never had a baby.

This group likes to fill you in on all kinds of advice from who knows where. They like to tell you things like how to keep your baby on a successful schedule and tips on breastfeeding.

3. Men.

This group reacts in many different ways. Some cease talking to you as if you have contracted some contagious disease, and are caught gawking at your freakishly morphing body. Some will go so far as to advise you on what to eat, and more that you would imagine have no problem telling you to be careful about how much weight you gain. Some want to tell you horrible stories about relatives hideous pregnancy and birth experiences.

Notice that women who are pregnant or have recently had children do not make this list. Why? Because they too receive annoying comments and advice from the three above mentioned categories of people, and know better than anyone that you don't want to hear it unless you ask. Advice is ALWAYS annoying unless it has been asked for.

One other pitfall of looking officially pregnant is the constant need for those around you to discuss it with you. Each person thinks they are saying something original, or having a candid moment with you, when really you have heard the same thing seven hundred times already and you are so sick of talking about babies and pregnancy that you are about to freak out!

And my favorite line of all I think comes from category 1. Older women,"You haven't even begun, just wait until (insert random horrible thing here) happens!"

I am over unsolicited advice.

I make a living answering ever ringing annoying phone calls and dealing with unwanted sales people on the phone and in person. So you can imagine that this combined with the above can drive a woman mad.

The worst is when half of my call volume could be gone if people didn't get an obscene amount of calls from family and friends on the work lines.

Mommy needs a nap.

Why Preggos are so tired

I always thought that some of the stuff preggo ladies claim was a crock of crap. Until I tried being preggo myself. It is no cakewalk.

Preggo ladies are always sleepy. Yes, even after the first trimester, and now I know why. It is not our fault.

We try to sleep. We would love to sleep. But it is near impossible, and I am only four months in.

Sleep before was a cinch. Any position was comfy. No need to worry about being to hot or cold you just set the thermostat and you are good. No need to pee until mornng. Plenty of room in the bed, and nothing to stop you from a solid eight hours of rest.

Ahhhh. I will cherish those memories of real sleep. I know that for the rest of my life I will never sleep like that again.

Enter the curse of the children. Even before they arrive your preggo body is receiving an early training course on the tortures and sleep deprivation on motherhood.

Gone are the days of uninterrupted sleep. Say hello to worry and pain, two of the leading emotions you get when you become a parent.

I may only be four months in, but I look and FEEL pregnant. I know all of you seasoned motherhood vets out there are thinking, "Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet!"

I know. I am aware. But I am unable to comprehend the months ahead of me. Yikes.

Last night I woke up a million times to adjust my position. My back hurts all the time from sitting all day at work. I have invented all kinds of pillow sculptures to jam under my back. Some are worthy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I also have the HUGE body pillow stuffed under the covers with me, totally robbing Hubbie of any small space that might have been left in the bed for him. I throw that cumbersome thing around all night, thoroughly screwing up any semblance of flat bed coverings.

I have a fan and humidified going, and the heating vent closed. I am frying like an egg among all my pillows blankets and bed sculptures. (By the way, eggs sound really good!)

Poor Hbbie freezes his butt off.

They latest surprise about this new "sleep" cam last night at 2:00am. I woke to a searing pain in my right calf muscle. It had totally locked up and was giving me the worst charlie horse of my life. I started freaking out. Jumped out of bed and started hopping in the dark like a mad woman. I was hitting my leg, hoping the muscle would unclench. It finally did, but I am walking funny today as a result.

Baby, this is not funny! Mommy wants to sleep!

Fat chance. Mommy.