In the Saddle

What am I doing wrong here?

Seriously. Every day we get word of somebody else who’s had their baby. Three weeks early, two weeks early, etc. My coworker had her baby last night.

I feel like Rachel in Friends when she is in labor and everyone wheeled into her room after has the baby before she does.

Except she’s actually IN LABOR!!!!

Grrrr. I need to have a more positive attitude, I know. I’m not even late. But after 6 days of prodromal (I don’t care what they say, it IS false labor) I’m just really sick of getting excited and being let down. And of being in pain. And of being wholly uncomfortable. Really really sick of it.

And you know what? I feel dumb. I feel so dumb that all this time I’ve been like oooooh, she’s coming early! She is! I know it! Hell, in our family’s friendly wager, my date pick was the earliest at February 28!! Why did I have to spout my mouth off so much!? Shut up Alison!!

So now that everyone and their dogs have had their babies before I have, I’ll probably end up being so late they’ll have to induce me.

Oh well, at least I’ll get some good packing done. See? Positive thinking!

The effort is there…

I wanted so desperately to be a really happy pregnant lady. One of those who sings from the rooftops and exclaims daily how lovely it is to be pregnant and how much she adores it. I was able to be for a while…even through the utter nausea and exhaustion…I was beyond happy about my pregnancy and what was happening to my body.

I suppose I’ve been disheartened by everyone saying the second trimester is the best and that you feel great. In my black and white mind, that meant I would feel fabulous, all the time. And I haven’t. If anything, as my body is growing and expanding and moving, it’s hurting much more than I thought it would at this stage…and much more than the first trimester. But as my doctor so wisely pointed out, well, you’re not going to feel better than you do NOT pregnant…you just feel better than you did the first three months…but you’re still gonna feel kind of crappy.

Well, this torso of mine is small, folks. It’s small and it’s expanding as fast as it can, but that doesn’t help me when there seems to be “trapped wind” (the polite term for gas) all up in there. And let me tell you…this shit hurts. My left side feels like someone is just squeezing it like an orange for juice. Aches and sharp pains depending on which way I move. And it’s all related to what I eat, when and how much. So…bye bye rich meals. Bye bye normal-sized dinner portions. Bye bye eating normally at a restaurant. It really has to be small meals for me; several throughout the day. I know you’re thinking, DUH! and smallest violin EVER, and yes both points are valid.

It’s just…I was in pain. I was unhappy. Pretty much this entire weekend, what with Yom Kippur dinner on Friday night (there’s a reason us Jews have terrible stomachs…it’s because our food MESSES with us! Lord almighty!!), Jonny’s birthday dinner on Saturday and brunch on Sunday. And it was all my fault and my doing and that played into my unhappiness. So did shopping for maternity clothes, and seeing lots of non-pregnant cute girlies wearing things I can no longer wear.

None of it is a big deal. NONE of it. I know this in my rational brain. But in my pregnancy brain, I’m on the verge of tears almost all the time. It’s so stupid. I wanted to be this happy happy preggo lady. But I think I’ve been putting too much pressure on myself to feel that. This shit is hard. And you don’t have many choices on how to get through it. You just have to deal. And maybe whine, a little. Okay, a lot.

I’m trying!

So I don’t end this post on a bummer note…here’s a picture of me from yesterday’s exquisitely beautiful day. Even though I was in pain at that moment, I felt good about myself and the changes within. Which lasted about an hour. But that’s okay.

It’s okay.

I’m okay.

Anybody wanting to share their stories—how they got through whatever discomforts and such involved with this crazy process—I’d love to hear…email me!