Make It Go Away

Hahahaha, remember that time Marcus thought it would be a good idea to have another baby and I agreed?  Hahahaha, that was funny.  Not really.

How Long Do Elephants Gestate Because I'm Pretty Sure I Have Them Beat

22 months in case you're wondering.  Twenty-frickin'-two months.  If anyone has a right to say "FML" it's a pregnant elephant.

We had our 38 week check-up this morning and I think it's pretty safe to say I am going to be pregnant for the rest of my life.  This baby is not interested in joining the rest of us.  I have to admit, I'm ready for him/her to vacate the premises.  As of this very moment the baby is nuzzling into my bladder and rectum all at the same time.  I picture it using my bladder as a pillow and then draping it's arm over my rectum, pulling it in tighter and snuggling up for a long nap.  If that isn't a feeling every woman yearns to be rid of I don't know what is.

Remember that time I compared my ballet skills to that of an elephant?  I wasn't trying to be literal.  I really do think that without a pregnant belly I float like a butterfly.  In fact, I'd like to take it back because it seems like someone is playing a cruel joke on me and I'm not even half-way through this pregnancy.  It may be time to take matters into my own hands...

It's A Sad State Of Affairs

The current state of my body is such that after every time I sneeze I have to quickly assess the situation:  Have I peed my pants?  Passed gas (audibly anyway)?  Is the baby still where it should be?  Once all three potentially disastrous situations have been averted I can calmly go about my business.

The same can be said for laughing.

And coughing.

FML.

Violated? I Think Not.

I remember shortly after Alexandra was born having a conversation with my girlfriend about the lactation consultants at the hospital.  "Didn't you feel so violated when they came in, grabbed your boob, and shoved it in the baby's mouth?!" she asked.  "Seriously?" I said, "I had a male nurse squirting warm water on my vagina not but 6 hours earlier.  A woman grabbing my breast was the last thing I cared about by that point in time."

Manipulation

I'd like to take a quick moment to note that yesterday marks the very first time Alex manipulated her dada because I wasn't giving her what she wanted.  Who knew it started so young?

Basically, we were all three in the pediatrician's waiting room, Marcus, me in the middle, and Alex sitting in her own chair much to her delight.  She then started sliding off and insisting I put her back in the chair (we're working on our upper body strength).  After a while I grew weary of the game and told her that I wasn't going to put her back in the chair.

She looked at me for a minute or two, I suppose trying to ascertain how serious I was, and when she finally concluded I was indeed, very serious, she walked over to Marcus and indicated to him she wanted to sit in his lap.  He picked her up (having not noticed what was going on next to him) and she proceeded to crawl out of his lap, onto and over me, and into "her" chair which she promptly slid right out of.

The thought process for this took less than a minute which I applaud; it didn't take her long to figure out a solution to her problem.  But the deceit?  Whoa boy.  We are in for it.  She's only 18 months old and she has a lot to learn...this is going to be bad.

Women Are Dumb

As you may or may not be aware I am a glutton for punishment.  I also like to make fun of stupid people.  As such, I occasionally peruse a chat forum designated especially for women who are either trying to get pregnant, are pregnant, or just like to talk about those things.  For the most part I think they're all ridiculous and write about ridiculous things that could easily be addressed if they'd just pick-up the phone and talk to their health care practitioner.  But, then again, if they did that I wouldn't have such great fodder for my blog posts.  Also, I suppose it's a sign of the times.  We can find all of the answers we need/want to hear by simply posing a question to a group of strangers who have no authority on the topic at hand.  I digress.

The most recent "WTF" moment came yesterday when a woman asked who else was regularly checking their own cervix.  What.  The.  F***ity.  F***?!  WHO regularly checks their own cervix and most importantly WHY?  I cannot overemphasize enough the WHY.  Why are they checking their own cervix and for the love of Pete how do they even know what they're feeling for?  That's why people go to medical school and trust me, these women are nowhere near medical school learning.  The responses she received were equally WTF as women gave helpful hints on how to squat and...I can't.  I won't even make you re-live the whole thread because I care.  Just know that it was beyond weird and we'll leave it at that.

This whole thing icks me out to no end.  I do not understand women and I am one but I'll be damned if I'm sticking my fingers up where they don't belong.  That's what I'm paying an OB-GYN to do, to tell me what's going on in there because well, he should know.  So, until next time remember folks:  That pregnant woman you shook hands with may have just checked her own cervix.  

35 Weeks Today

Today we are officially at the 35 week point which, if you actually know me (like, in real life), then you know that Alexandra was born at 35 weeks.  Thus, the importance of today.  As of 1:39 PM EST there are no signs of early labor and the impending arrival of Baby T #2.  Which is kind of disappointing.  Don't get me wrong.  I totally understand the importance of a 40 week gestation and the longer the baby gestates the better but, really?  5 more weeks of this?  Provided the outcome is the same as Alexandra's which was we had a perfectly healthy, albeit small, baby then I'm more than willing to give birth today.  I mean, I'm like really willing.  My belly button is popped so far out it looks like a fifth appendage.  My smooth walking gate is officially more of a waddle because the baby has a habit of pressing on my bladder and backside at the same time which is highly uncomfortable.  I'm also a little nervous about just how big this baby will get if we go to a full 40 weeks.  Birthing a five pounder was nothing.  Birthing an eight pounder might be a whole different story and one I don't really want to have as part of my repertoire.

In general, I'm just over it.  I don't suppose I was really into it to begin with as pregnancy isn't something I enjoy despite how easy it is for me.  Although, with all of that being said I know what lies ahead.  It's a vast span of time when Marcus and I walk around like zombies and I cry a lot because it's overwhelming.  So, on second thought, maybe having the baby isn't such a great idea.  (S)he should probably just stay put for a long, long time.