Monday, August 11, 2008

Wish for a Day? Try a Week.

"If you could have one wish for the day, what would it be?" This popped into my head last week and I thought, "Ha! Easy! I wish H, and all other men, could know what it is like, REALLY like to be pregnant." However, a day would just not cut it. Give me a week. And no empathy bellies, please!

A week for them to-

Know that being hungry means I might seriously resort to cannibalism if we don't have dinner right now. There is no more snacking there is only dinner and I mean now. Do you value that arm? Do you want your kid with one less appendage? OK, then. Let's eat.

Understand and truly feel what it is like to feel as if the weight of the world is falling out of your crotch and yet you are not even close to being in labor. Nope. You are about three months from that.

To cry because your underwear no longer fit. Neither do your shoes or any of the maternity clothes you bought just a few months ago. And the intense anger you feel when someone says, "What's the problem? You're pregnant!" Um... the problem? I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BUY MORE UNDERPANTS! I don't want to have to go through another pair of shoes/jeans/shirts every few months and blow our tiny clothing budget on clothes that fall apart after a few washes and shrink, stretch or fade to ugliness after a few more than that. It's infuriating!

The sheer weight of a pregnant stomach. The backache, the knee aches, all the aches. Yes, for some women pregnancy is a beautiful thing. They never felt better. That is not me. Each time I roll over at night I wake up. Yet, I must roll over so my hips stop aching, my shoulders stop throbbing and so my arms won't fall asleep, all from the simple fact that I can only sleep on my side now.

To know what it is like to never be alone. Hard to feel alone or quite yourself when another human has taken up residence right in your middle parts.

I thought all these things last week when I realized that I could no longer see my bikini line, paint my toe nails and that I miss running terribly. They are all simply impossible right now. That and I wanted curly fries, a donut and a chocolate milkshake more than I ever wanted anything before in my life. It was almost perverse how much I wanted those curly fries. I'm still thinking about them and drooling in a Homer Simpson like way over them.

Anyone else awakened by this sad news? I'll be thinking about the father of the foundation of disco and other genres of music and that waa-waa guitar sound today as I go about my business. So much more than Shaft. And Chef for that matter.

Ending on a good note- Beginning today I'm blogging weekly for Honest Baby here.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous2:44 PM

    I'm sorry, Sweetie! That sounds awful and you are AMAZING for enduring it!! I am saving up for surrogacy....


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