Ok, so it is true that you're either pregnant, or your not, there's not really an in-between. However, there reaches a point in pregnancy where your body is no longer your own. I've hit that point. I don't get to make the decisions anymore, at least not without ridiculous consequences. I don't get to choose what I eat, how much I eat, or when I eat. Baby decides. Sure, I could rebel, like I did last night, and eat a piece of cheesecake after 10 pm. And then I get to be awake until the wee hours of the morning, just wishing I could throw up that cheesecake so my heartburn would go away (I'm aware that probably wouldn't work, but I still can't help but wish). If I eat something he doesn't like, then I have the joy of it making a quick reappearance. And I can't eat more than he wants, it's just not possibly. Like how I couldn't finish my piece of cheesecake last night.
I also don't get to decide what I want to wear. Not really. I've had to replace my regular wardrobe with my ugly maternity wardrobe. Sure, there are a few cute things, but not many. Apparently when you are fat you have to wear ugly clothes, or be willing to spend a fortune for something you'll only wear for 4 months. Pretty soon I won't get to decide which shoes to wear either, because my feet will be so swollen I'll be limited to sandals and crocs. At least I can still pick out my jewelry. I normally don't even wear jewelry, but I like it when I am pregnant, because it always fits. Except my wedding ring. I'm hoping to be able to keep it on this time, but I won't count on it.
I've lost the privilege to decide when to sleep, and not just due to heartburn. This little guy is feisty. Which is good, so maybe his big sister won't beat him up too much. But whenever I lay down to go to sleep, he starts practicing his soccer skills. At least it is reassuring to know that he is healthy and doing well. This, in turn, makes it so that, sometimes in the morning, I can't keep my eyes open, no matter what is going on.
So while I like this little guy a lot, he should consider this his eviction notice. He's got 15 more weeks, and then he's out.
2 comments:
Last night I started singing "Everybody loves Kungfu fighting" and realized, no...I don't love it but she does!
Lol! Yes, being woken up by the kicking is getting a little old. But, I told Jared last night- it's a good thing she is stuck in there, at least I don't have to get out of bed to feed her. :) Oh and getting ready for church is the WORST! No clothes that fit. Swollen Face. Pale, splotchy skin. Dry hair. I just look like a dead whale. Oh well- almost to the third trimester!! And speaking of your cheesecake, I want your recipe for Lori's baby shower! Apparently we want to experience the heartburn, too.
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