13 September 2012

Knocked Up - Blurbs from the Home Stretch

5-6 weeks to go. I look like I swallowed a watermelon; carrying it allllll out front since there's nowhere else for her to go because Mommy is vertically challenged. By the time she's ready to come out, I'm gonna need a counterweight hanging off my ass so I don't face plant every time I'm vertical.

Sleeping: something I do in random spurts, so I guess mini-training for when I'm a pair of milk-expressing teats and human waste management come October. The heartburn starts (back) up around 2-3 am in spite of the mountain of pillows I surround myself with. When I finally fall back to sleep, it's off and on, not helped by the fucking neighborhood dogs doing their early morning barking routine, nor by the fucking idiot across the street who has no fucking clue how to start his goddamned motorcyle. (No really, Mon Amour has video of this idjit trying to start his bike with the kickstand down.)

Mon Amour bring me breakfast in bed before he leaves for work, and after I eat I've been conking out again for another couple of hours. I wake up when the heartburn starts again, then have random drowsy periofs throughout the day. Not quite as bad as my first trimester, but eh.

Also vaguely frustrating: it took me almost two hours to clean the bathroom this weekend and lordy did I need a nap afterwards. Bleh.

I've started to get the faintest linea nigra, which meh, I was hoping to escape that but at least it's not horrendously dark. What the fuck is the evolutionary reasoning behind that one, I wonder.

I miss being able to to sneeze without it killing my ribs as I furiously kegel and hope to god I don't pee myself.

Peanut is already head down and loves to stick her feet in my ribcage. This also means that when she gets the hiccups, I occasionally feel them on my cervix. Yes, it feels as weird as it sounds.

Two words: Perineal Massage. This is so I can hopefully avoid the dreaded episiotomy. I'm delegating this duty to Mon Amour, because the Belly gets in my way. Naturally, this usually leads to Happy Fun Adult Times...

...which are now primarily Doggy Style. Googling "pregnancy kama sutra" hasn't really shown new tricks. Boo.

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