It was my husband's idea to go out for supper. Two of our very close friends were getting ready to move a fair distance away and we wanted to spend as much time with them as we could before the embarked on their newest journey, leaving us in the dust that always seems to coat the city of Fort St John, BC.
The thought was great; not only did it let me off the hook for cooking dinner, but where I am at one and half weeks into my maternity leave, I will take ANY excuse to get out of the house and stop starring at my belly willing something to happen (besides the inevitable flatulence).
I am currently 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I am overjoyed at the prospect of becoming a Mom, especially to the little girl that they are 95% sure is occupying the majority of my abdomen right now. Have I enjoyed pregnancy? Let's see.... the first 12 weeks I was plagued with a mild 24/7 nausea which left me moribund on the couch most of the day, unable to consume much nutrition of any sort. The second trimester improved greatly, bringing with it a surplus of energy and as close to flawless of a complexion that I've ever experienced in my 24 years. As I started to pack on the inevitable pregnancy pounds while working full time at my demanding, on your feet job, I began to experience a constant dull lower back ache, sore feet, and finally learnt where my sciatic was located. Third trimester brought little to no change, although my energy stores definitely did not seem to last quite as long as I needed them too, and try as I might I was no longer able to "squeeze past" anybody or anything.
Convinced that I could will this little girl to come out a bit early, I agreed to let my Doctor start to perform weekly membrane "sweeps" at 37 weeks gestation, to try to encourage dilation, effacement and ideally labour to get started.
Today we go in for membrane sweep number three, and all my hopes of having an "early" baby, plus the stupid notation that I have ANY control over this process whatsoever are rapidly draining away.
The truth is, I despise being pregnant. That may sound a bit harsh, but I'm being honest.
I hate the restrictions; don't do this, don't do that, let me get that for you - all day long. I feel like I am crippled constantly. On top of that to be reminded every hour that I need to eat, because I am eating for two, is enough to drive me mad. Trust me honey, I have been eating enough for two my entire life. My stomach essentially rules my mood and therefore my day, and I have grown to respect it and it's wishes. Me and pregnancy, although physically we seem to jive quite well, are just not that match made in heaven. So the sooner this phase of my life can be over, the happier I shall be.
So as my husband gets home from his day at work, I began to get myself ready to head out for dinner. An excuse to put on some makeup and get out of the yoga pants I have been living in the past few weeks seemed excellent to me and I was cheerful. Until I had to get dressed.
I decided on a maxi dress for a few key reasons:
1. My legs were in desperate need of an exfoliation and a shave, and I just didn't have the desire nor the time to spend hunched over awkwardly in the shower in order to accomplish these tasks.
2. As much as I love the heat (and normally I really do), I just do not have the thermal control that I did pre-pregnancy; meaning sweat is a daily issue. The thought of cramming my two bulging thighs into their own tunnel of a jean just to bake for the next 2 hours was NOT appealing in the slightest.
3. The only shirts that will actually cover my entire belly are Old Navy tank tops, which I would consider to be 'casual' dress at best. That, plus the fact that I'd already cycled through two of them during the day (cue the sweat issue again), and am I almost positive that third has a large chocolate ice cream stain over the left breast.
As I struggled into the dress in a haste to get out of the door on time (seems to be a common issue, am I right ladies?), I took one last glance in the mirror and this is what I saw. A gigantic hippo dawned in a bright shade of Caribbean blue, with breasts that threaten to bulge right out of the dress and an ass so flat you could use it as a skipping stone. My beautiful 'baby bump' forced the front hem of the dress to sit at least 2 inches higher than the back, and the fabric hung in a very awkward fashion over my 'frame'. In my last minute of desperation I added a slender white belt just below my bust, but all that did was accentuate the bulge of my front and the sheet of plywood that is my rump.
There was no fixing this now.
As I shuffled out the door to head for the dinner (because let's be honest, I don't WALK anymore) and my husband, being the gentleman he is, said "You look great babe."
As nice as the intention of his comment was, I felt extremely irritated with him for saying it. Let's be honest here, you and I both know I do not look great, not even good. Heck, even the neighbours know I look like a cow, and they've only ever known me as the 'pregnant lady.' I look like a human-sized cheese puff in a Mumu, and there is nothing flattering about that image in the least (unless you're a big fan of cheese puffs, I suppose.)
As we drove to the restaurant, I contemplated my husband's remark in my silent rage.
What would I have preferred him to have said? "Gee Hun, water weight's really starting to be an issue hey?" Of course not. That would have resulted in me biting his head off, and then spending the remainder of the evening crying my eyes out in bed (thank you hormones for that).
So I chalk it up to this really; you just cannot win. You're going to be damned if you do, and damned if you don't with me. When I'm in my right state of mind (let's be generous and say that's about 60% of the time currently) even I know that I am a miserable person who is full of complaints. So to my darling, patience of a God, husband, try not to take anything I say personally, and just know that one day (and hopefully soon) I will return to being the relatively stable, beautiful woman that you feel in love with and married years ago. Let's just hope I haven't completely broken your spirit before that day comes...
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