Now I'm just uncomfortable. I've gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night to go to the restroom, but now I wake up just by turning from one side to the other. I know it's ridiculous but it's also not much of a wonder. As you can see, I'm carrying what looks like a basketball from the outside and is the size of a small cabbage ++ from within.
In addition to my 20-lb weight gain, the lack of exercise is making me feel achy breaky all over. Even the short walk from my seat at the office to the ladies' room is painful for me. I'm tired all the time and I'm not feeling so well in the joints. To cap it all off, I discovered my first stretch mark the other night. I was in denial at first, but Pao, knowing that it is best to be honest with me, unsympathetically confirmed the unsightly scar. Little baby in my womb, have you no mercy? None?
Oblivious to my suffering, baby also treats my womb like its The Embassy during a rave party. At 7 months, his skills have progressed from poking to upper-cutting and jabbing mommy, and doing all sorts of acrobatic somersaults in there.
Anyway, baby's things are starting to arrive. Some I ordered online, some are gifts. Since I can still count them with my fingers, I figure we're still far from being prepared at the home front. I haven't even packed my baby bag yet. Plus, owing to the lack of a baby cabinet, baby's things are stored in between clothes and towels in the nooks and crannies of our common cabinets. We'd have to gather them...eventually.
All these discomforts considered, I'd just like to say, okay, I'm done with being pregnant. I can't be like this forever. Please. On the other hand, not being pregnant anymore means I would have to give birth. The process requires a screaming human being coming out of me, for which I am certainly unprepared. Ah, the classic dilemma - what to do, what to do when you're both eager and scared.
In addition to my 20-lb weight gain, the lack of exercise is making me feel achy breaky all over. Even the short walk from my seat at the office to the ladies' room is painful for me. I'm tired all the time and I'm not feeling so well in the joints. To cap it all off, I discovered my first stretch mark the other night. I was in denial at first, but Pao, knowing that it is best to be honest with me, unsympathetically confirmed the unsightly scar. Little baby in my womb, have you no mercy? None?Oblivious to my suffering, baby also treats my womb like its The Embassy during a rave party. At 7 months, his skills have progressed from poking to upper-cutting and jabbing mommy, and doing all sorts of acrobatic somersaults in there.Anyway, baby's things are starting to arrive. Some I ordered online, some are gifts. Since I can still count them with my fingers, I figure we're still far from being prepared at the home front. I haven't even packed my baby bag yet. Plus, owing to the lack of a baby cabinet, baby's things are stored in between clothes and towels in the nooks and crannies of our common cabinets. We'd have to gather them...eventually.All these discomforts considered, I'd just like to say, okay, I'm done with being pregnant. I can't be like this forever. Please. On the other hand, not being pregnant anymore means I would have to give birth. The process requires a screaming human being coming out of me, for which I am certainly unprepared. Ah, the classic dilemma - what to do, what to do when you're both eager and scared.
No comments:
Post a Comment