I seriously feel like my belly doubled in size over the weekend.
This girl is all up in my business. She's squooshing my lungs, she's poking my bladder with little sharpy stabs. There's almost no room below for my pants to stay up. And those belly bands are bugging. (How's that for alliteration?)
And CLOTHING! Don't get me started. I'm all, "I HATE YOU! STOP TOUCHING ME!"
My out-in-public-all-nakey-nakey days are long gone, but boy, would it feel good. When I'm home, I pull up my shirt and just sit around bare-bellied. One, it's comfortable, and two, it's fascinating watching her move under the surface of my skin.
I admit, it's kind of like Alien, but I'm riveted.
Yesterday, as we were hanging out having sweet schmoopy cuddle time, Nick was clearly amused by my attempt to roll from one side to the other. Because now I am not unlike one of those potato bugs when I get stuck on my back.
I haven't needed the Amish man with the forklift yet, but I'm sure that's coming.
He giggled, but not at all unkindly. I'm sure I do present a funny image, all the arm flailing to get over to the other side.
But you want to make a pregnant woman hostile? Laugh at anything physical she's doing.
Everything is now so hard. I huff and puff going down the block. And up the stairs. And down the hall. I don't have enough room inside my body. I never know what will be too tight tomorrow. Putting on my shoes is hard. MY CLOTHES ARE CRUNCHY!
In other words, I was all poke him in the gut, "Oh, yeah? You think rolling side to side is easy because your big old stomach just sloshes when you roll over. You try having a big, solid, 10-lb ball strapped to your front."
I'll cut you. Don't think I won't.
My sister is reaching that stage (due mid-May!)ReplyDelete
Last week her elevator was broken. She lives on the third floor. The elevator was out of commission for days. I was so impressed that she didn't just call in sick to work so she didn't have to leave the condo.
Yikes, that's brutal. Good for her, though. All those stairs! Great exercise!Delete
Men, they never learn do they?!ReplyDelete
I have threatened the husband with cutting as well. He eats my food off my plate, touches my sore boobs and is generally irritating. Do not be surprised if I end up on the news. I still have another 32 weeks to go.ReplyDelete
My fingers are crossed you don't wind up on the news. I wouldn't care about the food but the boobs and general irritation make me stabby.Delete
4 weeks to go for me, and the threat of cutting is high. (As i sit here unable to sleep due to restless legs and general pregnancy misery, listening to my husband snore). I feel your pain!ReplyDelete
Four weeks! Yes, threat of cutting is high. I'm now sleeping in a separate bed with a pillow cocoon, and it's very helpful. The peaceful sleeping (much less snoring) while you toss and turn with no way to get comfortable is terrible.Delete
ok weird I know but I think this is cute. You are such a tiny little thing trying to imagine you getting all feisty and 'I'll cut you" with Nick makes me laugh.ReplyDelete
I'm little but I'm dangerous. :)Delete
Lots of sympathy from the pregnant women out there... my sister-in-law is due about the same time as you, and her facebook status yesterday read almost exactly like an executive summary of your post. Not long now, dearie.ReplyDelete
Yes, we're all in the same big uncomfortable bitter boat. :) Hugs to you, KB.Delete
I'm just going to back away from this post. Very slowly.ReplyDelete