The thing about pregnancy is that the end is so unnerving. I mean, all I could remember from being pregnant with Ben is how awful I felt at the end, so I was quite surprised that I felt good during this pregnancy for about 7 months (illnesses aside) before the misery really began. I’m also glad I blogged this pregnancy because it will give me some perspective. I kept a journal with Ben, but I always had the thought in the back of my mind that he would read it someday and so I was overly cheerful. Maybe it’s because Maya is a girl and I already have expectations that she’s going to have to be tough, but this time I was like, “Oh, what the hell,” and I was just honest.
The irony is that this was a great pregnancy. Sure, I was tired, and had to work, and I kept getting the flu, but if I hadn’t found out about Maya’s cleft lip and subsequently freaked for about 2 months I would have thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant. One of my favorite things about pregnancy is the ability to wear absolutely atrocious clothing without worrying about it. I mean, when else can you wear giant overalls and birkenstocks to work without anyone blinking an eye? I have always wanted to wear bad clothes. Always. It’s just that, since college, I’ve tried to be semi-respectable. Some people use pregnancy as an excuse to eat triple servings of Cinnabon for every meal; I use it as an excuse to flaunt a paisley shirt, polyester pants and whatever “practical” shoe is the shoe of the day. I love it.
Now, on the other hand, I am too large to fit into even my most atrocious outfits, and I am left with voluminous pregnancy t-shirts and a few select pairs of pants that seemed giant when I was 6 months pregnant and now leave red marks where they cut into my stomach. I have two days left. I cannot go buy more clothes. I comfort myself by eating Cinnabon. It’s a sorry substitute.
I also forgot how much it hurts at the end of pregnancy. What hurts? you ask. Everything. My hips hurt. And my back. And my neck. And my stomach. Oh, and my puffy edema feet. I think right now my fingers and some parts of my face are pain-free, but last night I had to coach myself through the pain to get up to pee. “Work through it,” I kept telling myself. “Embrace the pain. You can do it.” And this was to pee. It’s hard to explain, but when your body is full of baby, routine bodily functions become insurmountable difficulties, and accomplishing them can give the same satisfaction as, oh, finishing a marathon. Only it’s slightly more painful.
Yesterday in the doctor’s office I was reading a magazine article about some ob-gyn who was pregnant after practicing for a number of years, and the idea was to get her “real-life” perspective after watching so many women go through pregnancy and childbirth. The interview was clearly conducted in the 2nd trimester. A couple of my favorite comments included “It’s amazing how pregnancy is a natural function, and I can just keep going about my job without any difficulty,” and, “I feel so sad when women stop exercising at the end of pregnancy, because childbirth is a real marathon and they need the stamina.” You feel what? The first thought that popped into my head was, “Just wait, bitch.” (sorry Susie) I mean, if exercising includes getting up and walking to the bathroom 15 times a day, sure, fine. I walked a couple miles around my 8th month and felt fine, and went to the gym in my 7th. But now? My joints are so loose and painful, getting ready for delivery, that turning over is something I wake myself up at night to do, it takes so much effort. Then again, she also said she was “worried she might have to reduce her 60-80 hour work week” which I found amusing as well. Um, yeah…maybe.
Anyway, so I’m at the end of my pregnancy and even a few days ago I was feeling nostalgic about no longer feeling Maya do her karate kicks in my belly, but right now the doctor has estimated her at nearly 10 pounds and every time she moves I feel her grinding against bone and it’s terribly painful. So in the span of 5 days I’ve gone from “Oh, it’s so amazing she’s a part of me,” to “Get this baby out NOW!!!” Which is just nature’s way of getting us prepared for sleep deprivation.
Monday she will be here and so many of our questions will be answered. Just two days…and counting.
