Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Constipation is God's way of preparing a woman for labor

There are lots of ways God prepares women for being a mother: sleep deprivation, shortness of temper, fatigue, loss of sanity. I rationalize getting up to pee several times a night is to condition the mother for getting up to change and feed the baby. I rationalize the total bodily discomfort and the inability to sleep in a comfortable position is also preparing the mother for exhaustion. After another side-effect of pregnancy that I experienced, I had a pre-labor lesson. 

It is funny how much one forgets of the previous pregnancy. All the symptoms that I had last time, with the exception of food aversions, are back. Most recently I have been uh stopped up. This too happen in the last months of my previous pregnancy. Everyone experiences a bit of constipation at one time or another, however throw in a large baby in your innards and it intensifies.

For those who know me and think that a poop blog is inappropriate, well everyone poops. If you think that women do not poop or fart or burp you are disillusioned. So here goes my modesty...

The other day I had to go. Miserably stopped up and desperate to go. I was sitting there on the pot and nothing. I think a few rabbit pellets came out. I gave up and went into my bedroom, but the feeling of having to go lingered. I go back to the bathroom and sit. I try to relax. I have been trying for at least a half hour at this point. The thought of pushing only makes me think if I push too hard my water would break and I would begin dangerous premature labor or worse... a hemi (hemorrhoid). I hear that sometimes they never go away even after birth, so I'm petrified. 

Okay, so I recalled going through constipation the last time. Fortunately, I had a process that I had forgotten. A trick to help you through the process. If you are lucky enough to have the water closet that is the small potty room or a confined toilet area, then you are in a good position... quite literally. I'm talkin' throw the feet up on the wall like you got 'em in stirrups. This birthing position for some reason helps. It helped me and now I bestow onto you to use when in need. Oh, definitely breath like they do on tv. If anything, you will think of how ridiculous the whole situation is and the laughter will help with the whole birthing process.

Now... where is that dignity.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Strawberry Shortcake is her name-O

I have decided with Brian the name of our baby. I have also decided and told Brian that I would like to keep the name to ourselves until after the baby is born. This is why...

Dinner with Brian, Boden, my mother-in-law, and me. We have just finished dinner and Boden was sitting in my lap facing me. Boden and I sometimes belly-bump and this particular evening we were enjoying some flesh to flesh boo yeah BELLY BUMP. I promise I don't hurt him with my massive gut. This was the conversation that followed. The name of the baby has been changed to her nick name, Strawberry Shortcake, which was suggested as a name by Eva, a three-year-old.

MIL: Boden be gentile you don't want to hurt sister.
Brian: Yeah, you don't want to hurt Strawberry Shortcake.
MIL snaps her head to Brian with wide eyes: WHAT?! Is that her name? Her first name?
Brian assuredly: Yup, that's her name.

Meanwhile the belly bumping has stopped and I sat watching in disbelief as he has broken the promise to keep the name to our inner family circle and my mother-in-law in questioning our decision. I had to excuse myself to get Boden in the tub and to check if there really was steam coming out of my ears. 

I decided that I would calm myself and then speak to my mother-in-law to at the very least remind her not to divulge the baby's name to other people.

Me: We decided that we weren't really going to tell anyone the baby's name until after she got here.
MIL: Well, is that what you are going to name her? What will you call her? Straw? Berry? Cake?
Me not getting a word in but thinking: (What do you mean what will be call her? Like we would name her something and call her something different? Why is it hard to pronounce all the syllables in her name?)
MIL still pitching the questions: Is that her first name? middle name? Do you have a middle name?
Me still in shock, because it was extremely obvious at this point that she HATED the name Strawberry Shortcake. Stay Bruce stay Bruce. Don't let the Hulk out. Searching for something diplomatic, so the name would not be definitive in her mind.: Well, we have some time. (smile)
MIL: Well, you really want to think about it and make sure. A name is for life. You may want to pick something that she'll like.
Me... turning to walk away. I'm sure she mispoke and meant to say "pick something that I like": That's why I didn't want to tell anyone.

Strawberry Shortcake was not brought up again, however she did mention that there was a little girl at the lake named Zoe and she thought that was cute.

This is not to complain about Brian's slip up or the overt dislike of Strawberry Shortcake by my mother-in-law. I have learned that whatever a family decides to name their child even if it is something crazy like Pilot Inspektor, it is best to not voice an opinion. Everyone has an opinion, but I promise the pregnant lady does not want hear the opinions. 

Even if you knew a Strawberry Shortcake growing up who was a crack whore, you do not have to tell me about it. All it will do is make my chest tighten. I seriously don't care about whether or not other people like the name, however I just don't want to hear the comments in the intensely uncomfortable and high hormonal months leading up to the birth. 

I also owe Ashley an apology. I'm sorry for saying Eva sounds like Evil when you told me your girl name when you were pregnant. I understand that it wasn't nice, but I do like her name very much.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Nesting, venomous temper, and other neurotic behavior

Things I want to have done before the baby gets here:
1. repaint crib and changing table
2. recover chair for nursery
3. repaint dining room table and chairs
4. repaint Boden's old chest, distress it, and move to foyer
5. call electrician to put in a switch for garbage disposal
6. call plumber to install disposal
7. install different closet rod in Boden's closet
8. switch closets from Boden's old room to new room
9. move Grandma Eva's highboy from Ashley's garage to baby's room paint it if I don't like the color
10. hang up all presorted sized baby clothes in closet
11. change out all of the faucets in the house
12. clean everything four or five times
13. clean out fridge 
14.  reorganize bookcase and pack up old books that I have already read, but for some reason won't get rid of because they are coveted like treasures.
15. Get septic tank pumped regardless of being full or not... just in case.

Ambitious for a woman who curses when she has to bend slightly to put on underwear. Really, this is just half the stuff that I want done and want it done now. There is no possible way for me to do half this crap by myself, because of me being extremely large and pregnant. 

I did not nest in my previous pregnancy and I believe it was because I moved in my seventh month and did not know the sex of the baby. There is this motivation to do everything and clean until I drop to my knees and sob. It has happened several times in the past week. I just want everything done and done now and if it doesn't happen I go ape shit.

I am so rattled with anxiety that I have asked my doctor to medicate me. I have become a beast. My husband, I'm pretty sure, is scared of me. He really tries to be kind to me and I have no idea where he is getting his patience... Oh wait it comes from a bottle of wine. Wine that I cannot drink. He has resorted to sleeping in another room and frankly I do not blame him. The other night he tried to turn on a small fan in order to create white noise. It immediately made my blood boil, because we have not had white noise in a year and why should I have to hear and see this ugly little fan in my bedroom collecting dust. No, I do not want THAT in here and we HAVE a ceiling fan. He dismissed himself after trying to sleep next to me who constantly flopping all over the bed attempting to find a comfortable position that would also allow me to breathe. I can't imagine why he would not be able to fall asleep.

My best friend said it best when she half heartedly told my mother, "punching her in the face wouldn't hurt that baby none." Yes, half heartedly she meant it and I laughed, because it is funny. What isn't funny is not being able to control the hormones that make me beastly. God save all of you who may endure my wrath and I am sorry I cannot control myself better. 

Only 9 more weeks.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Female Grooming

Do any of ya'll have this attitude or know someone who does? The part of the person I know will be named Jennifer in order to protect her identity. 

Jennifer: A rolling of the eyes and a big sigh, "tomorrow I have to paint my toe nails, shave my legs, AND my girlie parts."

Me with a look of shock and probably disgust: "What the hell is going on tomorrow? You got a date or something?"

Jennifer: "I have to go to my female doctor."

Me knowing that Jennifer goes to a male OBGYN: "Do you think that painting your toe nails will keep his focus off your other parts or are you trying to impress him? Maybe you should wear a toe ring and an anklet or something."

I am aware that most woman trim up for their girlie appointments and they should clean up. It just kind of like you should be doing this all along, so as to not have to make it a job to go to the dreaded appointment. 

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Eat and Drive with Care


My co-worker and BFF, Ashley, and I were on our way back from the trough. The trough would be the Chinese buffet. Ashley was looking for a quick meal and trying to be nice to the pregnant girl. It is a nice gesture, but seriously, I can't pig out nearly enough as I would like without feeling like Violet Beauregarde sans the turning purple. 

We were stopped at the light when a gasp of terror expelled from next to me. I think Ashley even had her hands bunched at her face and was closing her eyes. "Do you see THAT next to us! I can't look."

I leaned forward, which is difficult at seven months pregnant to take a look at the Gawd awful sight next to us that had her so frightened.

There she was. She was a big girl kind of like Fat Bastard's sister or first cousin. She was driving a big truck, which did not help her. There is nothing wrong with a woman driving a big 4x4 truck, but it tends to make a woman slightly less feminine in way that I cannot describe.

Clearly, old girl was just leaving the Sonic drive through. I came to this logical conclusion based on the shiny foil burger wrapper that was splayed out around her head. The burger inside was no single. It had to have been one of those double or perhaps a triple burger based on how her jaw had to unlock like an anaconda swallowing a goat. The unhinging of her jaw clearly caused some pain, because the rest of her face was squinched up. I also believe she had the shark eye protection reflex, because her eyes were closed. It seemed like she shook her head a little on the down bite like how lions gnaw and tear the flesh off of their prey. 

This was only a few seconds of recollection, but I was really worried that she was eating the wrapper in the attack and quite possibly fingers. 

Note to self, small bites when eating while driving, because you never know who may glance over and laugh at you.