Pre-warning; this is a to-the-point, sometimes not-pretty, mostly humorous and 100% honest post about MY current pregnancy. If you don’t think you can handle this, please exit this post immediately.
Pregnancy. The miracle of life. It is also the miracle of a few other things, things that I’m going to share with you right now.
1. Constipation. Yup. Poo. Or rather, the lack of it. All of your insides are so squished and pushed into every available space that they more often than not forget to function properly, thus resulting in a lot of red faces being pulled, and a (sometimes) silent sigh of relief when it finally passes. I mean that literally.
2. Heartburn. Acid Reflux. Indigestion. Basically your chest burning from the inside. And no, water does absolutely nothing for it, not even dilute the acid even a little bit. Antacids become your sweet of choice, and you seriously consider giving up all forms of food if it would help. But sometimes the acid pays you a visit anyway, cause it can. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Standing does help a bit because the little bit of space that your stomach (not tummy, stomach) has inside of your chest/tummy cavity increases just a little bit, but at 6 months pregnant with twins, currently 89kg (that’s 196lb) standing for more than 5mins at a time becomes almost redonkulous.
3. Back to point number 1 – slowly losing your independence when visiting the ‘ladies’ room. I am currently at the stage in this pregnancy where bending in half is impossible. Ain’t gonna happen. And when I do try and pick something up by bending myself thus squishing 2 babies, I know all about it. But you’d think that wouldn’t matter in the bathroom. IT DOES. I am almost at the horribly embarrassing point of having to ask my husband for help DOWN THERE. In all honesty I haven’t seen DOWN THERE in almost 2 months, but after I’ve been to the ‘ladies’ room, one must neaten up. Yeah no I can’t really reach, either the front or the back. It’s like this spastic, gymnastic-wannabe routine that I have to go through, to wipe my ass. If it wasn’t so uncomfortable, I’d laugh. Maybe. No.
4. Needing help to get off of the couch. Every. Single. Time. Once I’m on the edge of the couch, I can generally stand up, sometimes. But if someone is not there to assist me (read pull me up) I am forced to do this ass-shuffle that includes my back sliding down the couch, until I am totally screwed, that I just lie there until someone happens to walk by and say hey! You need help! Well, um, yes. It appears that I do need help. Not to punch you in the face.
5. The constant questions. Mostly from strangers. “Oh wow, what a bump! When are you due? Must be anyday now!” No random lady from the street that has just placed her hand on MY tummy; not anyday now. 3 months is my anyday now. “3 months?! You must be joking! You’re HUGE!!” Yes even randomer lady, I am huge. THERE’S 2 BABIES IN THERE! Then you smile and walk away, not because you’re afraid of being arrested for giving that intrusive woman a beating, but because you don’t want your blood pressure to go any higher than it is, thus jeopardising your unborn babies. But you still daydream about giving her the ass-whopping of her life, and enjoying every-single-second of it.
6. Maternity clothes. Every woman’s dream; shopping for clothes that are anywhere from 1-6 sizes bigger than your normal size. Because every woman wants expanding hips and a bigger waist. The boobs are ok, except when they’re leaking. See point 7.
7. Leaking boobs. Picture this; you’re sitting in a nice warm bath, relaxing. You stretch your back by bending forward (well bending semi-forward in my case but enough to have my lady-bags in the water) and when you sit back up, you feel a little different. You’re not quite sure why, but you then look south and lo-and-behold – there’s white-ish stuff busy expelling itself from your body, down your body. It’s awesome. No it really isn’t. Yes, the hot water does have an effect and will encourage the ‘leaking’ but it’s especially awesome when it happens when you’re sitting behind your desk at work. With just a normal bra on. No boobie pads. And wearing a green top. Awesome.
8. Stretch marks. No, not tiger strips. Stretch marks. Wanna know why they’re not tiger stripes? BECAUSE I’M NOT A DAMN TIGER! Stretch marks are awful, and they bring down a woman’s confidence something chronic. Some women deal with them just fine, seeing them as a part of the pregnancy miracle. Me? Nuh-uh. They’re awful and hideous and are the reason my beautiful black bikini has been in hiding for the past 5 years. Bloody bastards.
9. RLS. Restless Leg Syndrome. Found in 10%-25% of pregnant women, mainly in their 3rd trimesters. And guess who just developed it? Yup. Me. Although I didn’t just develop it. It’s been my nasty friend for the past month or so. Go and look up RLS. It makes poison ivy seem like a treat.
10. The inability to climb 16 stairs without feeling like you’re an 80 year old emphysema patient. Ok it’s not that bad; emphysema is a very awful, horrible disease, but for me, who in January was running half marathons (21.1km) in under 3hrs (that’s pretty good for me) to feeling like my chest is going to explode after those 16 damn stairs, it’s pretty crap. My fitness is gone, and even though my plan was to try and stay as fit as possible during this pregnancy, it hasn’t worked out that way. In actual fact, I’m about to lose my gym benefit through my medical aid. Oh wait, I have already. Ironic. Yes I know that my lungs are ALSO being squished and have no real room to work at their full capacity, but not being able to breathe = DEAD.
11. Number 1. As in wee. Or the constant need to. It’s like my body is sticking to the pregnancy schedule to the T, because literally the day I entered my 2nd trimester, my bathroom breaks nearly halved, if not more. I have been in my 3rd trimester for just over a week now, and I may as well get IT to set up a network point in the bathroom for me. Thank God my desk is like 7m from the bathroom door. Otherwise it wouldn’t be pretty. For me. And the hilarious thing (if that wasn’t already so funny) is that I need to pee even when I haven’t drunk anything.
12. Sleep. BWAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
13. Knowing that I get to hold 2 perfect, precious miracles in 3 months time? Yeah. It’s worth it.
Will I be doing it again?
The plan to close this factory for good was made on the 14th of July 2014, when it was discovered that there wasn’t 1, but 2 tummy invaders.
No, I don’t do pregnant well. If I could press a button and have a baby delivered to me then I would. But feeling my son and daughter move inside of my tummy, seeing the awe in my daughter’s face when she places her hand to feel them move, really is all that matters. Knowing that my babies are growing, and are healthy, is all that matters. Knowing that my babies already know me as their mommy.
I wouldn’t change it for the world.