R.C. Anderson
The longest eight weeks of my life
March 28th 2007 07:15
Okay … honesty, that’s what’s called for here …
… honesty.
At thirty two weeks pregnant, still with another eight weeks to go, I am constantly tired, I waddle like a duck (or maybe a goose) when I walk (thank God I don’t quack), I don’t sleep well and, to top it all off, I have a huge bump with a mind of its own.
Sometimes I feel like I am going to pop!
I have to admit that I will be happy when this pregnancy is over, even though it means going through the pain and indignity of childbirth to get there.
My bump has amazing abilities. It can reach out and move chairs so that when I wander sleepily past the dining table on my way to the toilet in the middle of the night, I crash headlong into something that, moments before, was hidden tidily under the table.
My bump can also reach out and knock things off tables and kitchen benches. Just yesterday it surprised me by throwing an open packet of biscuits onto the kitchen floor, creating a huge, crumby mess on the tiles, which didn’t go down too well with my husband who had just swept them.
On behalf of my bump, I apologise to him.
My bump can move all by itself. Some of you out there must be familiar with the TV series Stargate SG1, or possibly remember the Alien movies? I feel like I’m a Stargate Goa'uld, playing host to an evil Symbiot, intent upon making my life a living hell.
“Oh good,” my Symbiot murmurs, rubbing its little hands together in glee, “she’s trying to sleep. Time for me to wake up and start grabbing firmly at the inside of her uterus and twisting with all my strength. That’ll keep her awake for a while yet …”
Again, my apologies … this time to all of you who are not familiar with Stargate, Goa'ulds or Symbiots.
My bump has the ability to make me breathless when I do anything even remotely energetic (like climbing out of bed in the morning), it has totally rearranged my internal organs and is currently crushing my bladder making me need to visit the toilet twice as much as normal. It gives me back ache, pelvis ache and leg ache, and even gives me cramps in my calves in the middle of the night.
I can no longer stand close to the sink to do the washing up because my bump doesn’t like being squashed up against it. In order to reach the dirty utensils soaking in the warm, soapy water, it’s necessary to stand side-saddle, twisting my back uncomfortably and getting a crick in my neck. Alternatively, I could stand further back and bend precariously over the sink but I’ve found that this position makes it difficult to reach those pesky little teaspoons that hide at the bottom, beneath all the bubbles.
I’m also afraid that if I do this my bump will somehow manage to push me headfirst into the aforementioned warm, soapy water. Don’t ask me how it will do this … your guess is as good as mine. However my bump, with its mind of its own, will probably think of something.
No … of course I’m not getting paranoid.
My bump is also stripping me of all my vitamins and minerals, causing me to need iron tablets and vitamin B12 injections. If it’s not vampires removing my blood, it’s doctors sticking needles in me and injecting me with all kinds of stuff.
I just can’t win.
I guess you are starting to understand why I am looking forward to finally getting this baby out.
Eight weeks to go.
Eight weeks … the longest of my life.
… honesty.
At thirty two weeks pregnant, still with another eight weeks to go, I am constantly tired, I waddle like a duck (or maybe a goose) when I walk (thank God I don’t quack), I don’t sleep well and, to top it all off, I have a huge bump with a mind of its own.
Sometimes I feel like I am going to pop!
I have to admit that I will be happy when this pregnancy is over, even though it means going through the pain and indignity of childbirth to get there.
My bump has amazing abilities. It can reach out and move chairs so that when I wander sleepily past the dining table on my way to the toilet in the middle of the night, I crash headlong into something that, moments before, was hidden tidily under the table.
My bump can also reach out and knock things off tables and kitchen benches. Just yesterday it surprised me by throwing an open packet of biscuits onto the kitchen floor, creating a huge, crumby mess on the tiles, which didn’t go down too well with my husband who had just swept them.
On behalf of my bump, I apologise to him.
My bump can move all by itself. Some of you out there must be familiar with the TV series Stargate SG1, or possibly remember the Alien movies? I feel like I’m a Stargate Goa'uld, playing host to an evil Symbiot, intent upon making my life a living hell.
“Oh good,” my Symbiot murmurs, rubbing its little hands together in glee, “she’s trying to sleep. Time for me to wake up and start grabbing firmly at the inside of her uterus and twisting with all my strength. That’ll keep her awake for a while yet …”
Again, my apologies … this time to all of you who are not familiar with Stargate, Goa'ulds or Symbiots.
My bump has the ability to make me breathless when I do anything even remotely energetic (like climbing out of bed in the morning), it has totally rearranged my internal organs and is currently crushing my bladder making me need to visit the toilet twice as much as normal. It gives me back ache, pelvis ache and leg ache, and even gives me cramps in my calves in the middle of the night.
I can no longer stand close to the sink to do the washing up because my bump doesn’t like being squashed up against it. In order to reach the dirty utensils soaking in the warm, soapy water, it’s necessary to stand side-saddle, twisting my back uncomfortably and getting a crick in my neck. Alternatively, I could stand further back and bend precariously over the sink but I’ve found that this position makes it difficult to reach those pesky little teaspoons that hide at the bottom, beneath all the bubbles.
I’m also afraid that if I do this my bump will somehow manage to push me headfirst into the aforementioned warm, soapy water. Don’t ask me how it will do this … your guess is as good as mine. However my bump, with its mind of its own, will probably think of something.
No … of course I’m not getting paranoid.
My bump is also stripping me of all my vitamins and minerals, causing me to need iron tablets and vitamin B12 injections. If it’s not vampires removing my blood, it’s doctors sticking needles in me and injecting me with all kinds of stuff.
I just can’t win.
I guess you are starting to understand why I am looking forward to finally getting this baby out.
Eight weeks to go.
Eight weeks … the longest of my life.
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Comment by DuskDevi
Rucks and Rolls
Rugby World Cup 2007
Oh man.....
Cara! I love SG..... (well...I did...when Jack was still around...)
Actually Cara.....when I read the title of this, I immediately thought of that song 'My Hump(s)' by the Black Eyed Peas........can ya see it???
"My bump.
my bump my bump my bump my lovely baby bump......"
Only 8 weeks huh? Wow.
....and then....the rest of your life.....
Seriously though....it is exciting!!!!!!
much love Cara
Dusk
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Damn ... I've got humps and bumps all over the place at the moment.
I love SG too. It died a death for me when Daniel Jackson left, then revived when he returned. It just wasn't the same without him.
....and then....the rest of your life.....
My Life? No, it won't be 'my life' again until all three have finally left home ...
... definitely something to look forward to!!
Great to 'see' you, Dusk.
A. xxxx
Comment by David
I'm not sure if this whole honesty on a Blog thingy sits comfortably with me ...
I really don't know how to respond to someone who is honest on a Blog ... You've thrown me into unfamiliar territory ...
I can't even read your entire post ... the first two lines even contain the word honesty in them ...
I don't know whether to read the rest of it or not ... I'm a bit concerned that is might just be too honest for me and make me take a bloody good look at myself and reevaluate my entire life as a blogger ... (I'm convinced that every other Blogger will see it exactly the same way ...
And they'll all just ignore this post completely and pretend it doesn't exist or never did ...
I'm just looking forward to the pangs Post ...
All this talk about your bump? ... I saw Demi Moore's pics when she was preggers ... and I never really fancied her much until then ...
Please don't put any pics up okay? .... I'm struggling enough to contain myself as it is ...
And tell your husband ... I'm just a shit-dribbler ... and anyone who takes me seriously? ... is wrong!
David ...
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
I thought long and hard, you know, about using the H-word.
I even considered making this a 'mature content' post, purely because of the use of the H-word.
And when I pushed the 'create post' button, a small shiver ran up my spine at my own audacity. How could I dare to force that word, that concept, that whole way of thinking onto the poor, innocent people who may stumble incoherently upon my blog?
I haven't done this to offend anyone ...
... please accept my sincerest apologies.
The word will never be uttered again.
A.
PS No bump pictures, I promise. No web page is big enough to contain a photo of my gargantuan bump!
Comment by DuskDevi
Rucks and Rolls
Rugby World Cup 2007
Comment by Fingertip Titans Unite
Idiots Among Us
Fingertip Titans
Your alien bump is actually sucking all the life out of each and every brain cell. Leaving you with the mushy grey putty often referred to as "pregnancy brain"
I remember-all to well- the day It caused me to go to work in a pink sweater with one Navy blue shoe and one Black shoe. (It also caused me to forget I was scheduled to work one day)
Comment by Portsmouth
I do love the mind pictures your writing creates. Please keep going...for as long as your arms are long enough to reach your keyboard.
Lots of love as always from Pompey
Comment by D. Armenta
The Florida Keys and Everglades
The Black Sheep Chronicles
What constitutes bad manners?
The male mystique
Debate Fan
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Insurance ... or unsure-ance?
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Any excuse to forget about work would always be very well accepted, in my book!
You could have started a new fashion by the sounds of it.
You're right, you know, I can blame my pregnancy scatterbrainedness for my lapse in judgement in using the H-word ... why not? I blame it for everything else, after all!!
Thanks for dropping in again.
A.
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Given a choice between leaning over the sink and doing the washing up and leaning over my desk to write, I know which one I would choose every time...
... and it doesn't involve dirty plates.
Thankyou, my dear Pompey, for your encouragement and kind words.
(No bias there, I see!!))
A. xxx
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Thank you to you too.
I love the imagery your comment invokes. I can see it now ... two tiny arms sticking out of my belly button, unerringly hitting the correct letter on my keyboard everytime (very unlike me).
Then again, I'd better watch out ... it might start clammouring for a pay rise and demanding more chocolate.
Oh well ... if it's necessary, it's necessary!!
Bring on the Cadbury's ...!!
A.
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
Your post bought back memories on why you should treasure these eight weeks, my sweet. My first one decided not to wait and came six weeks early. . . She was in a humidicrib for ages and I couldn't touch her with bare hands or feed her for 8 horrible, agonisingly long, heartbreaking weeks. I lost the first part of my mind then, in that time... the rest went later...*lol* /seriously though ...
My thoughts on it are, eat the chocolate, take lots of baths or go swimming lots together, and enjoy this eight weeks of absolute beached-whaleness while you have it. Honestly? I think the last eight weeks are necessary, if you are ever to push the bloomin' symbiot out into the real world...
...very touching post...
Lilla ...
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
All joking aside, you are so right.
If my Little No-name was to be born now we would also have to endure long weeks of waiting while she developed enough to be able to survive outside an incubator.
This eight weeks to come may be frustrating and whale-like but they are totally necessary.
I assume your first born came through the experience without any scars? I hope so. It all reminds us how precious new life really is, doesn't it. And how fragile it can be.
Thank you for sharing your story ... oh, and thanks for the great idea ... chocolate and a nice warm bath sounds like an excellent plan right now!!
A. x
Comment by KylieW
Celebrity Obsession
Oh my! I've always heard women say that having being pregnant is like having your body taken over by an alien. But none have managed to convey quite as well as this post.
Excellent work. I'm giggling....but at the same time am sympathetic!!!
Only 8 weeks.
Kylie
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
All I can say is thank God it's not going to be born by tearing a large hole in my belly, isn't that the way aliens always 'escape' in the movies? That is not something that I'd look forward to.
Thank you for dropping in, my friend. All sympathy (whether accompanied by giggling, snorts or insane laughter, or not) is always gratefully accepted.
A.
Comment by Candice
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Exactly!!!
Then again, isn't that what my other two children are for? Although they draw the line at cutting my toe nails for me ... can't think why!
A.
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
I could watch a video of a delivery now and I would still be squeamish and a little freaked out that I had done it.
It is amazing how slow time passes in those last weeks.
I tried so hard with my last pregnancy to enjoy and savour every moment just in case it was my last but it was so hard to do that when "everything" hurt.
Love & stuff
Mrs M
Comment by Andrea
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Hard to enjoy it ... when everything hurt.
Oh yes, I know what you mean. I think this is probably the most uncomfortable pregnancy I've had so far too.
I'm really looking forward to meeting this baby for the first time but I'm not sure I'm looking forward to the labour.
What is it they say? There's no pleasure without pain? Yep, they got that right!
Good to 'see' you again.
A.