Pregnancy. I will NEVER go back.
This is from March of 2014. I was 16 months pregnant with my youngest and needed to document how I felt just in case I ever had the ridiculous notion of trying for another baby. The end product gets two thumbs up and excellent reviews but the part where I have to grow them on my insides could definitely use some work.
Lemme take a minute and tell you all what it’s like to be me and nine months pregnant. Some perspective…I will be 40 this year. I do not work out but am in so-so shape when not pregnant. No health problems. I don’t smoke. I do drink but only to excess. My waist is usually a 32 but today, if you can call it a waist, it’s 52. My normally big boobs are even bigger causing me to have the appearance of a linebacker if I wear the wrong shirt. Everything is swollen. Even my tongue. This makes ordering a sweet tea next to impossible. One pair of faithful Reef flip flops are hanging in there as my last pair of shoes that will actually slip onto my fat feet. I sit all day because everything aches. From the fallen arches in my feet (they don’t go back, btw. I have to buy all new shoes after this. PERK!) to my daily headaches and heartburn, I ache but am so used to it now that most of the time I don’t notice those. I DO notice the pain in my back and pressure in my pelvis. Why do I waddle? Because it feels like there’s a f#cking 16-pound bowling ball pushing down in my pelvis and it doesn’t allow for closing or crossing legs. Being pregnant, the most beautiful, blessed thing a woman can be, does nothing beautiful for me. I look and sit more like a dude, every day. Take a second to ask the person next to you for a favor. Have them rub their elbow into your side as hard as they can for ten seconds. Catch your breath and then tell them to do it again. Imagine this shit coming from your insides. The baby inside me right now, I promise you, has tiny razor blades for elbows and shoulders. He usually shows me just how sharp they are just as I’m going to sleep. IF sleep comes. I get maybe four hours if I’m lucky. It’s hard to turn over with an extra 20 inches and 50 pounds on your front. Can’t breathe. I make random snorting noises. I seriously have no clue where they come from! Strangest thing. I snore now. I drool. And Fred stays. Probably because he does all of this as well, so he hasn’t got a leg to stand on. It’s at this point, during this pregnancy, that I’ll probably start staying indoors. It’s not fun to get out when you can’t even speak clearly. It hurts and everything swells more. Only 27 more days and I can start getting back to Leslee. This is my last pregnancy, so I’m trying to embrace it and not wish it away so quickly, but I’m ready. I am not one of those perky, skinny pregnant girls who can hang and just LOVE being pregnant. I’m older. I’m lazier. I’m Leslee. And I”m about to have two boys 15 months apart. I’ll be accepting bottles of wine and donations for Nutri-System in lieu of plants and flowers.