31 Weeks, 3 days

I am a whale.  I am a bloody beached whale.

Okay, I'm not really a whale.  It's difficult coping with my body right now given the fact that I have a watermelon sized belly protruding from my mid-section.  It's making it incredibly hard to sleep.  In fact, I'm not really sleeping at all.  Needing to wake up pretty much hourly at night to pee, which wakes up baby who has gotten extremely strong in the last couple of weeks - I can SEE my belly jump when he kicks, isn't really allowing me much snoozing.  Also, baby gets the hiccups at night, there are leg cramps and my husband has sleep apnea and has taken up snoring even with the CPAP mask on.  Seriously?  My mom jokes that perhaps I might get more sleep once the baby is born.  I'm actually starting to believe her.

Oh... and can I mention back pain?  I have never experienced back pain like this ever in my life.  It extends from my butt, since baby loves to lean on my sciatic nerve at night, all the way to my upper back and around my ribs into the front of my body.  It's amazing I'm not tearing in half, actually, the way my uterus is barging through and claiming space.

There is a plus size to my changing body, however.  All my life, I have had pretty much the most unattractive back side known to man, or woman I suppose.  Now, suddenly, baby got back!  It's fantastic!  I check out my ass in my yoga pants and I think, damn girl!  Do I get to keep this?  I think it must be a combination of hormones and dumbbell stiff legged dead lifts with copious amounts of squats.  It's funny, the first trimester I was as sedentary as possible.  I was EXHAUSTED!  I'm afraid to think of what it would have been like had I had morning sickness too.  Jesus.... second trimester I slowly began to work in small daily work outs until I got to the point where I was pretty much working out at least 4 times a week, doing a combination of yoga (which I got really sick of), weight lifting and some cardio.  Third trimester, the fatigue is starting to creep back but all of the sudden, all I want to do is lift weights.  Somehow, while other women are nesting and frantically cleaning house, I for some reason feel like I need to have the world's largest delts and triceps.  I'm hoping come D-Day, this new found pregnant body building obsession pays off... Are there cervical raises?  uterine press?  vagina curls?  Perhaps I need to look into this.

Making all of my discomfort all worth while, a couple of weeks ago, my husband and I went to a place to get 3D/4D imaging done.  It's pretty damn amazing to actually be able to see what your baby looks like in the womb versus the typical 2D ultrasound done in the doctor's office where you sort of can tell that your baby has a profile, but other than that, you really have no idea what the hell the ultrasound tech is so enthusiastically exclaiming about.  Check this out:

Pretty fucking amazing, hmmm?  I definitely recommend paying the $250 for this elective procedure if it's available nearby.  You even get to discover the fact that your baby boy has some serious attitude and is definitely your son:

Oh yeah, that boy is DEFINITELY mine!

27 weeks, 0 days

As I progress down this lovely pregnant adventure, I have discovered that yes, the inescapable back pain, leg cramps, temperature fluctuations, headaches, sweating, etc all absolutely suck.  I love my baby kicking me, it is very reassuring, however sometimes his enthusiasm with pounding my cervix or full bladder is quite painful.  However, the worst part of all of this business is actually having to interact with other people.  Dear God, if there was ever a time that I just want to blend in and be unnoticed, now would be that time.  I feel like a geriatric obese water-retaining side show.

First of all, I hate the questions.  "Do you know if it is a boy or a girl?"  "Were you hoping for a boy or a girl?" "Have you picked out names?"   None of these questions are really any of your fucking business and further more, it is quite obvious that you are asking me this out of this polite need of feeling like you need to address the fact that my stomach is huge.  Yes, I know that it is a boy.  I am not telling you his name until he is born because I just don't feel like I need to broadcast this.  And seriously?  Was I hoping for a boy or a girl?  I am hoping for a healthy baby.  Male, female, hermaphrodite, gay, straight, whatever.  As long as he is breathing and functioning properly, that is really all that matters.  What I may have had my heart set on initially is sort of a moot point now and is really no one's business.

The next horrible thing that people LOVE to ask a pregnant woman is "how are you feeling?"  I know that quite often, the majority of interactions that include the question "how are you?" is only out of polite necessity to fill dead air and no one really cares about how you really are.   So right now, I'm pregnant.  My armpits are soaking wet to the point where you can see them seeping without me even lifting my arms.  My boobs are getting ever more huge, my back is killing me, I have hip fat and weird back fat I have never had in my life.  My legs are cramping, I can't stand still because my joints feel so damn geriatric that my feet seem to be gnarling as I breathe.  There is no "oh, I am feeling so absolutely wonderful!  I feel like I am a beautiful and powerful female and am so blessed to be part of this lovely wheel of life and blah blah blah" answer that people are hoping to hear so they can move on that I really care to bullshit at this point.  Just look at me.  Don't ask, just look.  My bloated face should answer your question.

Coupled with this "how are you feeling" business is my loathing of being told how wonderful I look.  I'm not glowing, I'm hot as hell.  There is no way anyone can look wonderful when sweat is pouring out of their armpits and their husband's and father's layered anti-perspirants smeared under her arms are in no way holding it in.

It really gets bad when there is food in the room.  I can smell right now like a freaking blood hound.  If you bake a cake 2 blocks away, chances are that I will get a whiff of it and need to eat cake RIGHT NOW.  I am not talking about some dainty pussy portion either.  I need to eat half of that damn cake.  I want to point out that for many women, weight is an issue especially if you are like me and need to work hard with diet and exercise while not pregnant to maintain an attractive figure that doesn't make you feel like you need to wheel around on a Rascal or Hover-Round and pant and sweat everytime you visualize a staircase.  So, because of this, food feels like it is stigmatized.  The problem is that when you are pregnant and if you are like me, you're bloody starving.  One portion just doesn't seem to cut it.  I don't want attention drawn to this.  Chuckles at my 3rd bagel or giving me permission to indulge in dessert just make me embarrassed and want to kill you or hide my fat ass away in a closet.

Which brings me to this very hard issue:  right now, I really hate those that are naturally skinny.  Especially those women that stay skinny and petite while pregnant.  I feel like a beached whale.  Just standing next to you makes me feel like my fat is going to start quivering and extending from my body and will eventually absorb you into my adipose tissue where you will be slowly digested over 1,000 years.  So please.  If you are skinny and happen to be near a pregnant woman, don't comment about needing to watch your own weight.  Don't gripe about not being able to eat a normal human-sized portion.  Just nibble on your ice cube and move along.

Finally, the worst thing I have had to deal with is having to dress up to go to some formal or semi-formal event, like my husband's office holiday party.  Maternity dresses aren't terrible, but the whole ordeal of wriggling into nylons that extend up to your tits, having to not melt into a post-menopausal puddle while blow drying and then dealing with make up and constant need to re-situate everything you are wearing is pretty damn unpleasant.  So after an hour and a half of pampering and finally feeling semi-presentable in my matronly semi-formal frock, my husband comes into the bathroom and says "you know you have panty lines, right?"  Someone just shoot me.

23 weeks, 3 days

This baby is killing me. No, no, not true. This back pain caused by that fabulous pregnancy hormone 'relaxin' is killing me.  So is the constant need to get up and pee on an hourly basis throughout the night.  So far, I have been pretty good and actually managed to get up most mornings and exercise.  I have even gotten up at 6:30 am with my husband to go to the gym and fling myself on a cardio machine.  This morning, not so much.

It doesn't help having to lie on my side.  I have created a barricade of a single body pillow from Ikea and a number of stuffed animals that I can rest my belly against to keep from flopping over on to my stomach. It takes me literally 5 minutes to maneuver in and out of bed with this construction.  And poor husband, trying to find room to fit in the bed.  I guess I can't feel too badly for him.  He contributed to this state!  Unfortunately, while supplying a healthy blood flow to baby, this is not helping the back pain.  I'm sure waking up every hour isn't helping either.

A new pregnancy symptom has presented itself in the last couple weeks!  Gas and bloating have always been my friends but man, have they ever transformed!  The bloating is my body's way of slowing down digestion so that baby has more of a chance to get nutrients... but the gas? Last Saturday at the gym, I decided to use the cross trainer.  I think the two guys who joined me must have seen me from the back because if they had seen the pregnant belly, I am guessing they would have chosen to work out elsewhere.... i.e. next to a non knocked-up blonde.  Every cross trainer was empty saving the one I was using so I know their choosing to join me on either side wasn't related to lack of options.  I am thinking that because my uterus is now taking up so much room in my body, it is leaving limited space to my intestines and namely, my colon, which is probably related to my inability to hold these noxious waves of death in.  Working out and bouncing around really doesn't help this.  Let's just put it this way.  They didn't stay on the cross trainers next to me for long.

I am trying not to be self conscious about this.  Okay , yes, I feel badly every time my husband and I are in the car together and it is too cold to open the window and he practically asphyxiates.  However, like my expanding belly and my new found need to wear only Crocs, this too is outside of my control.  I have to accept it.  After all, there are only four months left of this.

October 28: 19 weeks, 4 days

I guess to make this a really effective blog about sharing my experiences in exploring this incredibly F-ed up yet amazing journey that is being pregnant, I should have started back in the first trimester.  First of all, I don't expect anyone to ever actually read this.  It's not like I'm going to advertise it to anyone.  Secondly, the first trimester really sucks.  Thankfully, I was spared the nausea and vomiting, but the cramps of my ever-growing uterus and its need to constantly remind me of its presence coupled with seemingly never-ending fatigue didn't really make me decide that hey, you know what?  What you're going through is weird.  Tap into some creativity and write about it!  Instead, it said 'find your way to the couch and live there for three months.'  I was much obliged.

So now I am in the supposedly glorious second trimester that is supposed to be the best experience of the entire pregnancy.  Ummm.... that scares the shit out of me.  First of all, let me admit that much to my chagrin, I have already gained like 40 lb.  I'm halfway.  The books tell you you're supposed to gain 25-34 lb the entire pregnancy.  I am convinced each of my boobs weighs at least 10 lb.  I think the books are full of shit.  I'm starving, literally all of the time. I'm trying to make a point of eating as many vegetables and whole grains and nuts and other decidedly healthy crap as possible while also doing yoga or some annoying exercise activity for 30 minutes everyday.  Yet still, my ass is continuing to increase in cushy-ness and my thighs are forming colonies of cellulite with an open invitation for any random clumps of cottage cheese to join in their cozy communes.  This isn't helping my body image.

Along with my so-called healthy eating still adding to my fat collection, the healthier I eat, the more intense the heartburn is that decides to join me after meals as a nice reminder of my previous devouring.  Seriously?  This isn't my body's best endorsement for adding more vegetables to my plate.

Another wonderful feature that has been present with me from the beginning of this little parasite swimming around in my uterus up until now and apparently, so I read, until the end is the fantastically obnoxious feature of Snoqualmie Falls taking place right here in my own underpants.  Vaginal discharge.  Discharge is an understatement.  More like, vaginal fluid stampede.  Actually, that doesn't really make sense but I'll go with it. It feels like 5 times a day, I wet my pants.  This is supposed to be my body's natural way of protecting against bacteria, but seriously?  I thought pregnancy was supposed to be a glorious vacation from the use of panty-liners.

Lastly, so far it seems I am suffering this lovely condition of premature elderly-ness.  This fantastic hormone called relaxin which is supposed to be totally helpful in making my pelvis loose and rubbery so baby can slide on out into the world is kicking in full force now and not only is my pelvis loosening up nicely, every other joint in my body is becoming nice and loose.  Oh, my aching knees and back.  Every hour in the middle of the night, I have to tear myself out of my warm cozy bed, unwind myself from the maze of pillows I have squished between my poor husband and me and wobble out of bed to pee yet again and as if my raging bladder and angry ligaments aren't enough, my knees can barely support me!  It's a fight of battling against my aching wobbly knees so that I can clamber my way to the toilet and relieve the horrible pains of oh-my-god-I'm-pregnant-and-pee-is-the-bane-of-my-existence syndrome.  I made that syndrome up, but it really seems legit.

There are actually amazingly wonderful things that are going along with this, however.  The monthly ultrasounds are pretty amazing.  Seeing my baby boy in progress kicking and wiggling around on a TV screen is indescribable.  It's like, suddenly there is this connection within me to the earth and to humanity and I am filled with so much love, I could practically explode.  I can now also feel him kick pretty pronouncedly, although this isn't consistent yet.  He seems to like to give me some good precise jabs about 6:00 am, followed by some random kicks sporadically throughout the day, then a grand finale of martial arts sets in right before bed.  Apparently, this is related to my blood sugar levels.  And hey, I get hungry too at 6:00 am.