Memoirs of a Prego

For those of you that follow our blog you know that I rarely write anything. I leave the tongue-twisting, witty prose to my husband. But I was thinking in the shower the other day—where many of us do our best thinking—that I really should have been writing down all the emotions I’ve felt during pregnancy. And while I’m already 32 weeks along, with a mere 8 weeks to go, I figured now is as good a time as any to jot some of my thoughts down. I’ll look back and be glad I did. Riley can look back and laugh.

What do I dislike about being pregnant?

Weight gain — It’s not so much that I’ve just gained weight (I expected that), but that I’ve gained it all over.

Charlie horses — My calf cramping up in the middle of the night into a ball of twisted muscle.

Lots of doctor’s visits — I don’t dislike my doctor’s visits as a whole, but I do hate sitting in a waiting room for 40 minutes before being taken into another room where I continue to sit and wait. I’m also not a fan of peeing in a cup each and every time. Nor am I excited by the climb onto the mammoth scale that confirms only one thing: I am the mammoth.

Bloating — As if weight gain wasn’t enough.

Back aches and hip aches — I’m about to give birth but I feel like an 85 year-old woman.

Hormones — These dirty little devils are pretty much responsible for every annoying thing: heartburn, constipation, soreness, fatigue and facial hair. Yes, facial hair! I am the wooly mammoth.

Losing the ability to bend — It sounds silly, but you take things like putting on pants, shoes, socks, shaving your legs, reaching down to pick up something you dropped for granted. Suddenly, every movement that requires your abdomen to bend however slight is a whole new complicated set of contortions. Fun to watch for Jonathan I’m sure.

Frequent peeing — I now hold the position of official restroom tour guide for the greater Scottsdale area. If you’ve seen it, I’ve peed it.

My hair — It has turned into some kind of straw, grass-like material. Lovely.

Burping — It was pretty entertaining at first. Whereas once the most I could manage, with the assistance of Dr. Pepper, was a sad little hiccup of a burp, I am now able (and required it seems) to belch out the nastiest, loudest, rip-roarenest burps of all time. While funny at first, now it’s just gross.

What do I love about being pregnant?

Men — No, really. I love watching men who would normally never throw me a glance suddenly stop what their doing, or turn around, or drop everything to open a door for me. It is silly and reminds me that everybody loves a pregnant lady. Of course, my man is still the best.

Shopping — Two kinds here. First, I love shopping for maternity clothes. Buying things two sizes bigger than you normally wear can be depressing, but hey, shopping is shopping. Second, I love buying baby clothes; itty bitty, adorable, ruffled, foo-foo, pink and purple outfits everywhere. She is going to be the best dressed little baby in the whole darn city.

My fuller bust line — Need I explain?

The Silent Code — Whenever I see another pregnant woman or a mom with a brand new infant, there is a silent exchange of sympathy and excitement. Sometimes it’s a nod, other times it’s a wink or a smile. The point is that we both acknowledge the mutual experience for all the goodness (and anti-goodness) it holds.

Massages from my husband — Granted, they hurt and I whine and complain, but they are so wonderful. Most nights I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without Jonathan kneading my doughy body.

Not getting a period — Period.

Family excitement — The news of little Riley and her arrival has created quite a buzz among our family. Everyone is just so excited. It is a blessing to see and be a part of such a joyous time.

Getting to call my mom “grandma” — More fun than I thought.

Ice cream — As if I needed an excuse.

My belly — While it represents much of my weight gain (which I despise) it also represents life, and newness, and being a woman, and God’s gift. I rub it. I rest cups on it while watching TV. I oil it up to prevent stretch marks. I talk to it… hoping Riley can hear. It is my badge of courage and proof that the Lord is good.

Feeling Riley move — The first flutters were amazing. I was still kind of nauseous, too, so it would feel like a dip on a roller coaster. Now, 8 months in, she is bigger and stronger. She twists, kicks, pushes, reclines. At night I lay on my side and Jonathan lays next to me with his hand across my belly, resting it still so he can catch every movement. She always kicks for daddy. She is real, alive, growing, beautiful… and thank the Lord, she will be here soon!