I promised that I wouldn't talk about pregnancy all the time and I've kept my word. See? I can follow through on some things after all! (...she says as she glances at her way-past-overdue deadlines in the calendar.)
But, since I know you people like reading all the ins and outs of me carrying this little
parasite sweet baby girl, I thought I'd give an update.
It's exactly the same as last time, minus the major abdominal surgery to remove an ovary mid-pregnancy. Super grateful for the gift of keeping my remaining piece of the baby-maker puzzle this time around.
I'm 27 weeks and I'm big. My back hurts, my feet hurt and my hips hurt even worse than the previous two things combined. We're in the body-pillow stage of sleeping, I try desperately not to slip into a coma at 3:00pm every day and yes, I'm still drinking coffee. (I also don't take prenatal vitamins... not because I have a vendetta or anything, but because I forget. I know, I'M SUCH A REBEL.)
I also have an occasional glass of red wine.
This is the part where your face melts off in horrific rage because OHMYGOSH I'm such a bad mother.
(P.S. - Spare me.)
I continue to remain a modern medical anomaly and have yet to gain weight. "What? That doesn't make sense," you exclaim there in your seat. You're right, it doesn't! I eat plenty and often, the baby is growing right on target, and I'm measuring perfectly. However, I weigh the exact same amount that I did when I started. True story. I'm convinced that there's a siphon mechanism in my uterus that miraculously achieves some kind of even-weight transfer. Or something. I have no idea.
My gallstones are back, which totally sucks. I'm not sure if you're familiar with gallstone attacks, but they are excruciating - so much so, that the pain actually throws my body into early labor. I got them when I was pregnant with Rowan and pregnancy is the only time the stones show up. The doc tells me it's normal. I tell her it hurts like a son-of-a... So, I've got a prescription for a heavy-duty narcotic should I have an attack, along with several hope-for-the-bests in my back pocket.
I also get frequent migraines when I'm pregnant. The kind where you vomit, sit in the dark silence and pray for relief. There's nothing like it and I'm so grateful I don't get them normally because there's absolutely nothing you can do to make yourself a functioning human being with a migraine.
I absolutely love being a mom, raising babies and all that fun stuff. I even enjoyed delivery (to an extent... let's not get carried away).
But carrying the child? Eff it, I'm out.
And I'm done pretending like it's some beautiful and glorious experience. There ARE parts of it that are overwhelmingly beautiful and hopeful and lovely, to be sure.
But is it really difficult for me? YES.
I was recently told that I shouldn't be so negative about pregnancy, because it makes others feel guilty for having a good or easy one. Yeah, I'm gonna call "bullshit" on that.
I'm reminded of my friend Heather's post when she told me that my hard? Was hard. That's it. I'm not going to compare hardships or pregnancy woes with anyone, I'll just tell you that pregnancy is extremely hard for me. While you're taking your weekly baby bump pictures, talking about how cute your nursery is going to be, and how silly all your cravings feel, I'm driving myself to the ER to get a shot of Demerol in my ass because it feels like someone is ripping out my ribcage.
Here's the thing - I won't apologize for thinking that my pregnancies suck and I'm certainly not going to judge you because you are thoroughly enjoying yours. I WISH I could have your experience! But, I don't and you know what? That's okay. It's okay for you and for me to admit that and just live out our lives.
Enough with the judging.
MAN, that felt good to type.
All of that to say, despite the hardships and difficulties and complications of pregnancy, I am getting more excited about Baby Girl's arrival every day. I still sit back, laugh and marvel at the fact that this little baby is a GIRL. It's just a wonder to me. She got her first Oregon Ducks jersey a couple of weeks ago (it's pink, naturally), and her big brother is starting to put his hands on my belly to feel her. He tries so hard to say "baby," and I get weepy thinking about my wee boy as a big brother... and how he has NO idea that his world is about to become very, very different. I laugh a little at his expense just thinking about it. Sorry, kid.
We also have a front-runner for a name. Don't even ask. I'm not telling you.
So, there you have it... me at 27 weeks. It's not all puppies, rainbows and Taco Bell cravings but, it's not too bad. I take it all a day at a time, one foot in front of the other. That's all you can do, really!
Now if you'll excuse me, I have frozen yogurt to eat.