Tuesday, June 21, 2011

33 Weeks. Kinda Done.

Today was our first summer day. And surprisingly, it was hot (75 degrees) and I got really sticky in a lot of annoying places. I wore kinda short shorts and a skimpy tanktop which is opposite normal pregnant me where I feel as though I should hide my puffy parts. But I am so sick of being pregnant that I just kinda wanted to throw those parts in everyone's face. Like what? You don't like my elephantiasis foot? Too bad, I even wore skimpy flip-flops.

Your sister and I just kinda bummed around town in the heat. I took her to some wading pools that she hated and we ate strawberries on the front porch. We blew bubbles and then she sat on you (in me) and you got all twisted up and angry and started punching my kidney with your fist so I put your sister to bed early since she was starting to get punchy too and I can only handle one tiny punching person at a time (lord help me in 7 weeks). You and I sat on the couch and you finally un-snuggled yourself off my diaphragm so I could actually breathe and it was then a nice little time. Till it was time for bed.

I have become fearful of sleep. Mostly because I cannot seem to remember how it is done. I just lie there and think about where you will sleep (we only have two bedrooms) and if your sister will stomp on you and try to feed you whole grapes and my mind just goes along with these thoughts like getting sleep is such a low priority for my body. And sleep comes hours later after I fling my huge belly from side to side in the bed 74 times before just moving to the couch.

Tonight while I was lotioning my belly in the mirror, admiring how weird it looks, I saw a strechmark on my side. I got through the pregnancy with your sister with no stretchmarks (except one on my knee from water retention) and I was hoping to do the same this time. But no. There it is with it's skinny red face sneering at me. So I huffed to bed and flung myself from side to side hating the "heat" of the bedroom. I went to the living room to grab a light blanket and tried to spy on the strechmark once more on my way back but my belly was now covered in lines and indents from the bed since I was thrashing around in there for an hour like an enormous beached whale.

And it just hit me then that everything is different. I am not pregnant with Elle. You and her will be different babies. It is a totally new journey and I need to stop comparing the both of you. A good lesson for your whole childhood I suppose. So I am just going to own this new strechmark and perhaps find even skimpier clothing that will show it off. (No. I won't do that.)

So, 7 weeks till I am 40 weeks. Please come out with a nametag as I have no idea what I am naming you. Thank you. I love you.

(please limit time on my diaphragm to 30 min a day so I can breathe. kisses.)

I have no pregnant picture since your dad is at work, but here is one of sis right before she got punchy and put to bed:

2 comments:

  1. Absolutely stunning photo. And consider yourself lucky!! I escaped pregnancy with no stretchmarks on my stomach all three times, but my chest and bottom were torn to pieces during my first pregnancy. I guess when you go from nothing to curvy overnight that's what happens.

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