If I could buy an entire fleet of t-shirts that say “I’m Pregnant,” I probably would. Not only would this cut down on the faces filled with question marks that don’t take their eyes off my chubby belly, but this would also ensure I receive all the special treatment that is due to me for growing a human inside my body. Now, you may be thinking, “Jeez, who does this girl think she is?!” Well, this girl thinks she is GROWING A HUMAN BEING INSIDE HER BODY. I am due all the Expectant Mother parking spots in the world.
Speaking of which, I am quite tempted to just drive an hour to the nearest Target just so I can park in the Expectant Mothers’ spot and waddle my proud, pregnant buns into the store and then back out. This is my kudos to Target for throwing a little privilege our way.
Now, my husband has bent over backwards, forwards and then back again to meet my growing pregnant demands, but it has gotten to be quite the disease. As I type this, he is filling my beverage and handing me a cup of pickles. That’s love… or terror. Like if he even so much as dares to ask me to let the dog outside once my pajamas are on and I’m planted on the couch, he is met with a soul-burning stare. What has gotten into me? Am I carrying Lucifer? I hadn’t even missed a period when this demanding, entitled behavior began which wore my husband out. Now I am labeled the mom-who-cried-wolf even though this fetus is riverdancing on my spine and I am begging for a back rub. Turns out I shouldn’t have waited a bit on the demands because I really feel like I am a baby making machine that is running low on fuel.
I guess I thought that pregnancy was going to be more an “uncomfortable” feeling. I didn’t realize the gravity of the phrase “You will have a small person growing inside your body.” Apparently, I thought that meant there would be this tiny cherub being nourished on pickles in my womb where I would feel a small flutter of life from time to time. Instead, I literally feel like there is something trying to crawl out of my body one organ at a time. I never knew what it felt like to have a bladder quivering with fullness only to be met with a roundhouse kick. Now I know.
Not only is this experience “uncomfortable,” it actually is creeping me out. At the ultrasound, the doctor kept pushing on my stomach which resulted in little Baby Boy to kick his legs feverishly on the flat screen TV. This floored me. Wait, that little person with the full spine, fingers, toes and Chuck Norris legs is in my belly? Like, that little skeleton is mashed in somewhere next to my overworked bladder and squeezed lungs? No way. For some reason I didn’t think there was going to be a skeleton. I guess I thought I was birthing Gumby and he would just naturally harden into a person.
Lots to learn, I guess..