So, here I am…slightly more than halfway into my pregnancy; tomorrow marks week 21. For an in-depth (*ahem*) look at what’s happening inside of my uterine cavity (and every other pregnant womans' cavity at this stage), go here (or see the floating blob-in-the-orb widget at the top of this page).
I suppose it may seem odd that I’ve blogged so little about being up the pole…I guess I figured that the subject wouldn’t be all that interesting to my teeming masses of devoted readers. Heh. Perhaps more accurately, it’s not as though there’s any shortage of “mommy blogs” out there in the ether (I ought to know -- I’ve been skimming quite a few of them lately) -- but then there’s only one ME blog. Ok -- actually I have three of them, but who’s counting? It’s my party, and I’ll bore you to tears if I wanna. And in triplicate.
Pregnancy continues to be easier than I imagined it would be (so far). The legion complications, discomforts, humiliations and uncertainties I was expecting have amounted to minor inconveniences, and in some cases there have even been (snicker) “perks”, such as my fitting into a C-cup bra for the first time in my life, woo!
The back catalog of momma-to-be publications which I have perused are full of advice for “today’s active woman” – tips on modifying her exercise schedule, working “pregnancy breaks” into her daily activities, emphasizing the need to get enough rest and relaxation and not try to do too much, etc. But being the slacker that I am, “slowing down and backing off” is essentially my M.O., so I guess I’m hunky-dory on that point at least.
Mind you, this isn’t to say that I’ve been completely idle; I have, in my half-assed way, been trying to streamline my life in preparation for this grand event, but I think of it more in terms of “cleaning house” than “training for a marathon”.
**On that note: I am sick to death of the prevalence of competitive “Type-A” management-speak terminology found in most baby-related websites – does everything in life have to be turned into a (pun intended) motherfucking competition?! Enough already!
Anyway, lately I’ve been trying to put together a baby registry gift list, and for someone like myself (relatively ignorant of such pregnancy traditions until now), it’s an educational but daunting process. While I may have been aware of the vast infant and child marketing demographic before, it was usually within the context of my scorn and outrage against rampant consumerism (“JESUS CHRIST, how in the hell can people need all of that silly plastic crap??”).
Now that I am “in the foxholes” (so to speak) I proudly remain an atheist, but my outrage has been tempered a by a desire to “do this right” (whatever that means). For the time being, this desire seems to be manifesting in what kind of supplies I choose for my baby, but I’ll give myself credit for at least trying to do some research before I grab. Consumer Reports has been very helpful with some of the big-ticket items, and the advice of other mothers I know has been of great assistance (and sometimes confusion) as well.
That being said, I’ll add that I stay away from the pregnant lady forums for such information – a flood of enthusiastic but highly biased opinions usually leaves me feeling more perplexed than reassured, go figure. Furthermore, some of these women can be damned nasty…the view of the American cross-section via the internet is usually enlightening (and amusing), but when said cross-section is comprised entirely of hormonally-propelled women, well, let’s just say that the ground of rationality and logic can slope away pretty quickly. I’ve got enough of a hard time keeping my own emotional feet on the ground these days without a horde of spastic brood hens shrieking at my godless self via ASCII, thanks very much.
And how am I handling this physically, you may wonder? Well, just fine (according to my OB), although I’m far heavier than I’ve ever been before. Given that I was hardly a dainty petite flower even before I got knocked up, I seem to be handling the extra sixteen lbs or so that I’ve gained so far without too much difficulty, but some days are easier than others. Today I feel normal and springy, but yesterday every movement was like swimming through blackstrap molasses; I felt like a ton of poorly stacked bricks. Given that I’m likely to gain another 15 to 20 lbs (at least), it should be interesting to see how I cope…my back gets sore now just from sitting on my couch, and it’s getting harder for me to rise from a seated or laying down position without making terrific groaning and grunting noises (a source of much amusement to Matt, but I won’t deny him his laughs because he changes the cat boxes). Momentum seems to help me “launch”, but the time may come when the sudden motion combined with the gravitational pull of my huge belly could become downright dangerous. Yet another reason for me to stay the hell out of those tempting Franklin Mint outlet stores, eh?
On the lighter side (*rimshot*), I’ve discovered that pregnancy makes me horny -- very horny. Whether Matt is delighted or intimidated by this development varies from day to day (poor guy), but I’m trying to enjoy it while I can. Something tells me that in a couple of months the idea of having sex will seem about as appealing as riding a mechanical bull while naked, and after consuming several pounds of mashed potatoes (also while naked…?). Hell of an image, I know, but here’s hoping my libido sticks around for a while. I’m having more fun surfing internet porn these days than most fourteen year-old boys, and I don’t even have to steal my mother’s credit card to do it!
I’ve been promising new belly pics for some time now, and I plan to have Matt take some more of them tonight. Stay tuned for greater (MUCH greater) things to come.
By the way, in case any of the three people who read this blog don’t already know, Matt and I are expecting a son – for recent ultrasound images, go here.
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