Tuesday, February 27, 2007

So ready to pop!

Nine months is one month too many!!

Okay, I understand that creating human life is a beautiful and sacred thing, I get that it takes a long time to grow a human from an egg and a sperm. I get that the awesome power of birth is central to the most contentious political arguments in our culture.

However, I also can't get off my couch anymore, or walk through the grocery store without availing myself of their bathroom. I can't do anything without getting heartburn and my hips are letting me know what life at 110 is going to feel like. I understand that I should feel lucky to be a woman, and not an elephant, but really, nine months is one month too long!!

I am ready for pants that have zippers, the occasional beer, and a frickin pile of sushi! I am ready for lying flat on my back or stomach!

Why does our culture breed an expectation for an attitude of peaceful joy during pregnancy? I don't feel calm, I feel impatient! I want to hold my baby, and get him out of me!! Most women I speak with sympathize with this sense of the final month taking for-frickin-ever, but we still have this image of the lovely pregnant woman peacefully eating her way through an entire chocolate cake and loving every crumbly minute. Where are the complaints? I don't have gooey chocolate love, I have uncomfortable heartburny indulgence!! There is a foot permanently lodged in my stomach making chocolatey goodness my enemy!

Not to mention that I can no longer reach half my dishes, or half the stuff on grocery store shelves. Emptying a grocery cart is an acrobatic feat beyond my normal level of physical ability, and I can't walk through any opening smaller than a banquet hall! I bump my 'bump' against everything that comes near it, and then moan because it's extra sensitive to the touch!

Ugh. I feel like a huge mammoth beast, waddling towards my own self destruction. I don't feel like a glowing serene woman on the verge of a miracle. I feel like a harried, tired, beached mammal trying desperately to feed and care for her current calf while preparing for the existence of another.

Moo.

3 comments:

woman at the well said...

I have my own theory that God made the last month or pregnancy so miserable so you'll do ANYTHING, even go through labor and delivery, to have it be OVER. (There's a reason I had children 10 years apart - took me that long to want to do it again, and I had "easy" pregnancies and four-hour deliveries!)

Woman with a Hatchet said...

I think the pregnancy hype is touted by those that can't actually get pregnant!

Don't give in to it! It's not all thrills and glowy moments! A lot of it is crap and most of it is WORK! It's not easy making a new person and no one should be made to feel like they should enjoy every moment of it.

Think of it like ballet: you KNOW those dancers work like mad and are in pain and are actually damaging their feet, yet they look graceful and serene. That's you.

Plus the beached mammal thing - I'll be mooing right back at ya in a few short months. Oh, and the milking. Don't forget the urge to moo while breastfeeding!

Go swimming! Get weightless!

Many hugs!

Yvonne said...

Mooooo, baby. It's snowing here, heavy, fat flakes that are piling up even as I type. Sigh.
We are thinking supportive thoughts today of Sierra, who is taking the bar exam. Aren't you glad you're not?
Love,
Mom

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