How am I, You Ask?

How am I, you ask?

I am wonderful. I am enjoying this little creature creeping and crawling inside my little belly. Truly, I am. However, for those of you tilting your head and saying with those oh-so-sympathetic eyes, "Really, Jess, now how are you?" I must give you the honest truth. 

FRIKKIN' HORMONES! I have more pimples than an adolescent girl before her period. My body chemistry has not just changed, but has walked away from me. It has resulted in my deodorant ceasing to acknowledge my body and simply walking away. Today, I used my husband's deodorant. Yes, full sport, sweaty man deodorant. And what's worse, it actually worked. The only problem was that my sensitive nose was constantly looking behind me thinking I was being followed by a pack of overly scented adolescent boys new to the deodorant band-wagon. 

Now, let us discuss this beautiful weather. I have always loved this warm weather beyond reason. But today, on my ten minute walk around the block with my dog, I came back not only exhausted, but dripping in sweat, and panting along with my dog. So quickly the heat has gone from something I covet to a near nightmare. I actually fought with my dog for a place on the cool bathroom floor. 

And all the while as the hormones build on to this sexy image that you now hold so dearly of me, remember this. Your mind plays tricks on you while you sleep. I wake up having dreamt about sex, only to realize that it's just too hot out, and I'm just too sweaty. 

So here I sit complaining as something else happens. My little guy kicks. He kicks again, only this time rolling some extremity right across the width of my stomach. Somehow, every complaint, every pimple, every drop of sweat just fades away to nothing and all I'm left with is a smile, and my hand lingering on my ever growing belly. 

Hello Third Trimester

Happy 28 weeks! Looking through various websites and pregnancy books, I've learned that by now, my little embryo is actually a baby. His senses are furnished, he wiggles his fingers, his testicles are intact, and he even plays with his toes. He is a full and complete baby, minus the whole being born thing. So as I enter my third trimester I can take pride in the fact that I actually made a human being. 

In the second trimester, it was easy to forget about my pregnancy. Of course I grabbed at my stomach and watched my body change as often as I could, but still, feeling terrific, an entire afternoon would flash by without a single ache or side effect. Now today, I scream, "HELLO THIRD TRIMESTER!" Within a two week period, my body has morphed into a pregnant lady's side-effected checklist. Lack of sleep? Check! Hips expanding at an unprecedented speed to the point of wobbly legs? Check! Frequent bathroom breaks? Check! Stating, "Oh shit!" when a full bladder hits a pothole while driving? Double check!! I knew it was coming, but am completely shocked at the rapid pace in which I have become a groaner when standing up and a moaner when sitting down.  Still, it seems that all mothers out there seem to have an excuse as to how each side effect helps to prepare your future of babydom. They are all listed in book after book. Amazing enough, as many times as you read them, it doesn't sink in until you actually go through the process. I believe this is why day after day, year after year, women continue to have children. We all have mental blocks. The beauty of life smacks out the aches and bodily leaks until we completely forget. 

And have I mentioned that they say that childbirth hurts? Funny, because I can't seem to get myself to read past the eight month chapter in any of my ten pregnancy books. I too am blocking out the inevitable in exchange for a future coo. 

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It's My Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To

While discussing the upcoming birth with my friend, I began calculating the due date as well as the impending bris. How convenient that eight days after my due date, when a bris should take place, is my birthday. As a normal response, my friend mentioned how nice it would be to share that event with my son. But then it clicked. There I was ready to put all of myself aside in order to raise a child. But did I have to share my birthday as well? Just one day a year, I wanted to be the princess in the spotlight. Selfish, yes, but doesn't every person deserve their moment? Maybe so...but actually, maybe not.  So I began to panic. Was I really that selfish? Here I am about to alter my entire life in order to raise a child, and sharing a birthday was my big challenge?

Part of becoming a mother means letting go of your selfish ways and indulging in giving to others. There is no longer time for "me" and even "we" becomes less frequent as "she" or "he" begins to fill your sentences and everyday demands as you begin to care for a baby. I am ready with open arms to put aside my needs for this little being that is kicking me from the inside out. Still, I find myself selfishly daydreaming about my future desires of long showers, sleeping in, and finding time to put on make-up. I know I am ready. But at the same time, is anyone completely eager to put aside their entire identity and routine? 

As a way to subside my selfish ways, I have decided that the next three months should be spent pampering myself in the ways I desire. Last week, I indulged in a massage. An hour of relaxation with no one to think about but myself. An hour of pleasure and daydreams. As always, when trying to relax, I used my imagination and tried to send myself to my happy place. I've always traveled to sunshine and beaches so there I was floating in the sea, sun beaming on my face, as a masseuse began to bury away my physical stress. However, my happy place began to alter. There I was in isolation, floating away when I suddenly had company. I was not alone in my sea of comfort. There on my chest, holding tightly to my neck was a little boy accompanying his mother. I had no desire to readjust my daydream, but instead was surprised that I found comfort in the company and love that was being portrayed in my happy-place daydream. My selfishness seemed to have  melted away right there on the massage table. I was no longer thinking in "I" but rather in "We". 

So I had a moment of clarity, but does this really mean I am ready and willing to give up all of who I am? The answer, as any other pregnant woman would say, is "No". It is important to keep a part of oneself in order to pass on your beliefs and values. The challenge is in finding the balance. So although I may have to share my birthday, please be sure to remember that it is my day too, for I will be the one birthing the beautiful little baby boy. 

Take Hold of Your Boobs

I've recently hit the physical landslide and it seems to be setting off my hormonal outbursts. Halfway through my pregnancy, my boobs were fantastic, and when I say fantastic, I mean porn star fantastic! I could hardly believe how full and perky they were. The size was perfect, and I was in heaven. And then I woke up a mere week later to find myself staring at my naked reflection in the mirror in complete disbelief. I've been told that after pregnancy, boobs change. But somehow, the world forgot to mention that this transition slides right in before you can hold and snuggle a little baby to help you escape from your physical reality. 

So first I should explain what drew me to stare at myself in the mirror while wearing my birthday suit. While cleaning the house, I made the mistake of not wearing a bra. That's when I first noticed the difference. My breasts were rubbing against my stomach, causing a sweaty irritation. I found myself holding and lifting my "girls" with one hand while I was dusting with the other. Now I suppose the average person would adhere to their body and put on a bra. But not I, for I wanted an explanation that could only be offered through examination. So to the mirror I went.  My first focus was that the size that I had recently admired so much had taken a drastic shift for with size comes weight. That newfound weight of my new breasts were now being pulled downwards. I have surpassed my size to comfort ratio. 

In addition to the early arrival of the form shape is the arrival of Spiderman. He moved into my breasts, built a home, and sprayed his webs without a signed lease. I am now a blue-veined Spiderwoman ready to nurse the world.

My next mistake was going bra shopping the same day as my new discoveries. Leave it to me to take the dressing room directly next to a group of fresh-faced teenaged girls. As I passed them in the fitting room, I couldn't help but stare at their selections; lace, cotton, no lining, sheer, underwire, fancy, pretty, sexy, beautiful. Then I looked down at my selection; full support, black, white, thick strapped. Can we shout out MOM BRA? And then the thoughts passed through my head and I couldn't resist sharing my input with the girls.

"Ladies, take hold of  your breasts! Wear them up, wear them big, and wear them beautiful. Flaunt them and appreciate them for they are on loan. You will one day lose your beauty and perkiness, so while you can, don't be afraid to share your breasts with the world. Embrace low cut, embrace v-necks, and treat the world to a day of you bra-free. For never again will your nipples stand so beautifully and your breasts so perky. Stand tall, dear girls, and share your breasts!"

Placenta Brain

I can't find my jeans. I know my husband wouldn't take them. Yes, they seem to have walked away. I have placenta brain. 

I lost my slippers. I looked everywhere possible but they were nowhere to be found. I went out and bought new ones, and to my surprise, found the same comfortable pair on sale. Two weeks later I found two pairs of the same slippers in the shoe rack. I have placenta brain. 

A stranger greeted me at the food store. But she wasn't a stranger for she knew my name. She even knew I was having a boy and am due in this summer. I pretended I just couldn't remember her name, but recognized her. But when she told me, no bell was rang. I drew a blank. I have placenta brain. 

While speaking to a friend, I called my husband by the wrong name. No idea why, as I didn't even know anyone with that name. I have placenta brain.

While watching a sad movie, I started crying to the point of hysteria. My husband wasn't sure if I was crying or laughing, as it didn't stop for twenty minutes. The next two days I was in a fog and couldn't focus on anything. I have placenta brain. 

Having a little spare time on my hands, I decided to do something creative. I took out my paint, pencils and sketchbook. I sat down to create a masterpiece. Nothing came out. Thirty minutes later, I decided to do a brainless sudoku puzzle instead. I have placenta brain. 

I took my dog for a walk so she could take some enjoyment in her bowel movement. There she went, and I had nothing with me to scoop the poop. I had to walk all the way home, get a bag, and go for walk number two. I have placenta brain. 

J.K. Definitions:

Placenta Brain - During pregnancy, blood is pulled to the stomach to supplement the fetus with nutrients and blood supply. As this occurs, the blood supply to the brain is diminished. This results in absentminded hapless behavior and confusion for pregnant women.