Life at 36 Weeks

My life at 36 weeks:

*It feels like someone is repeatedly kicking me in the genitals and, when the flesh is good and raw, pouring hot sauce all over it. You can add this to the Wish I Had Known list of shit that happens to a pregnant woman's body.

*Add the above to hemorrhoids. I don't think I need to elaborate on this.

*Skin tags and moles! Oh joy! They are popping up EVERYWHERE! By the end of this pregnancy, I'm afraid I'll look like the demon who ate kittens in the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

*Back aches. Holy hell that one sucks. And it's not just where you would expect either. Because the top part of my body is so scrawny, I seem to lack the muscles to hold myself upright properly. By the end of the day, the muscles and nerves between my shoulder blades are screaming. It's definitely a fibro symptom because I've had similar flares in that area. Add the lower back to it and I'll soon be able to add my name to the list of eligible, hunchbacked side kicks.

*Gastric functions are at an all time high. I've never had heartburn in my life until this. And it reached a new level a few weeks ago with horrible pain. It felt like a geyser of acid threatening to shoot out of my mouth. I imagine it to be like the blood from the Alien creatures; whomever comes near me will risk being hit by a torrent of acidic, hot liquid which can eat through organic, fleshy materials and metals. Thankfully, there is a mint-infused version of Zantac that is safe to take and it almost completely eradicates this threat to all humanity. And yes, you can take that as a product endorsement.

*Hormonal? OH JUST A LITTLE. I can go from crying to wanting to molest my husband in about 5 seconds. Not to mention, I'm also impatient and crabby. We're definitely riding the crazy train here.

*Brain power and coordination are greatly diminished. It almost seems like a cruel joke from Mother Nature to make a creature so goddamn clumsy but who also finds it almost impossible to bend over. I can't even guess how many things I've dropped on the floor only to find it excruciatingly difficult to retrieve. (I huff and I puff and I BEEEENNNNNNNND my ass over.) Also it is hard to find the words to express myself or form complete thoughts. A thesaurus wouldn't even help me because I don't even have one word I can bring forth from my brain to look up. "What's another word for that thing?" *points* "That THING over there? Yeah what is that?" Fffffuuuuuuuu.....

If you add all this together, I feel like a hunched over, gigantic monster with bad skin and an inflamed crotch, who while bawling, is chasing some poor man around the house, yelling for sex in monosyllabic grunts, all the while crashing into furniture, and only pausing to suppress a Hiroshima-like vurp.

So that's pretty much where I'm at these days. So if you want to ask me how I'm feeling, I might just continue to point you to this blog. The good news is, I really don't need to invest in a costume for Halloween this year. I am scary enough already. Have a great Halloween everyone!

Tschus.

It's the final countdown!

Now get THAT song out of your head! *Evil Laugh Track*

I have seven weeks to go. That's it. I've moved on from the "holy shit, this has to come out of that little hole!" to "just get this kid out of me already." This is how nature mentally prepares you for child birth. The fetus presses on the bladder, smashing into a nerve that makes it down right painful and urgently requires you to pee. The horrific back pain after being on your feet for a limited amount of time. The fetal hiccups lasting for ten minutes at 3AM. Braxton-Hicks contractions every day, squeezing my gut and then the pressure shooting up into my throat.

This last trip to the doc showed her back in the breech position, with her head neatly tucked under my ribs. Ahhh yes. This explains why it feels like someone is puncturing my lungs every time I sit down.

Therefore seeing an end in sight is quite welcome. I don't even care about the upcoming pain or the sleepless nights or the rank diapers. I'm just ready to see her and hold her and of course, to have my old, defective body back. I never would have imagined that I'd want my old body back, for as much as it let me down, didn't work right and created so much pain for me. Surprisingly it has done this one thing right. It has so far successfully cooked a turkey. I know that when all the hormones that are protecting me disappear, the pain, the overwhelming fatigue, and the constant muscle aches will try to grab a hold of me again. Maybe I can fight it off this time and maybe not. Either way, it will be good to no longer be hosting my little fetal parasite. If only I could put her in my husband's testicles for the remainder of the pregnancy. Wouldn't that be great?

I've also been exhibiting a massive amount of nesting behavior. I can't sit the fuck down and rest until I'm so exhausted and in pain that I have no other choice. But the guest room closets are cleaned out. the laundry room has shelves and bins organized for their specific contents. The baby clothes are sorted by size and I'm in the process of washing every item. I even scrubbed the banister that separates the dining area from the great room. All that is left to do is paint a couple more rooms. My poor husband has not had a moment's peace in months. His wife has completely succumbed "Teh Crazee."

Maybe I should take some tips from this book a friend got me. I see some excerpts on the web and I find them to be really helpful. Oh shit, break dancing is not allowed? Dammit.

I will try to get some personal pics taken for the next blog post. I just couldn't resist these Safe Baby illustrations. So that's all for now!! If you need me, I'll be wigging the fuck out over curtains or lamps or on some new quest to find something to eat. Tschus.