I am growing another person inside of me, and they want OUT. I mean push my enormous canoe feet against your tummy forty bajillion times a minute OOOuuuTTAHhh. I am amazed, enthralled and terrified all at once. I mere person here am creating a whole other person that I, me, myself and my husband will be RESPONSIBLE for. Like for food...and shelter and....for psychological well being! Aaaaaaaaaaaaa((run around room screaming into other room and back)) aaaaaaack!
I mean I do not want to be the subject of "how my mother ruined my life" visit number 342 to therapist. I want my child to look back all misty eyed about how we used to make chocolatey chip cookies on cold rainy afternoons and I was the bestus Mommy ever! (Waking back up from hormonal coma)
I am full of conflicting emotions...one minute I want this gymnast/monkey/drummer/baby thing out of me...the next moment I want him to stay put because he is safe in there and no one can hurt his little baby feelings. Besides I know the different ways he can come out...and they all involve pain.
Physically I feel like someone has sucked every morsel of energy from my body. I have to psych myself up to go cook dinner, do laundry, go to the grocery store, clean the kitchen, and go pee for the forty billionth time.
Amazingly through out the other 38 weeks of this pregnancy I have not had any significant back pain. I have suffered from it in the past and fully expected to have a LOT of issues with it. I should have knocked on an entire forest somewhere. Week 38 has arrived and so has the pain. It now wakes me up at night and hits mid afternoon and sometimesdrives me to lie in bed. It is when this strikes that the "Get him ooooooout of meeeee!" starts to rear its head. Then the fear of him actually coming out of me returns and I rub my belly and say "stay put for a while".
That and I panic-ordered some nursing bras day before yesterday. To my alarm I was reading in a book how it is not unusual during engorgement to swell to three to four times your normal breast size. On a good day I can give Dolly Parton and Pam Anderson a run for their money. I have a feeling after engorgement I am going to look like a flipping Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade float or one of those balloons with the rubber strings on the end that you punch over and over. So I ordered big bigger HOLY CRAP THE HUMANITY! sized nursing bras. One of them has cups so huge I can wear them as a little house on the prairie hat. I..am...not..kidding...at..all. If I have to throw Robbie out a window during a fire I can tie my bra to him and use it as a parachute so he can float safely to earth. I am telling you people this is circus freak huge scary....this baby better breast feed like a champ.
Now I am fully appreciating the "Martyr Mommy" speech of "I carried you around on swollen ankles for 9 months...blah blah blah...".
AND THEN - On top of it all, in the middle of everything else, Ike has dyslexia. I've suspected something was up for awhile now (one of my older brothers has dyslexia...