It’s not bad, it’s just different – this whole pregnancy thing.
And now, at 21 weeks, we’re pregnant-pregnant. Like, the really-showing kind of pregnant.
It’s not like we weren’t pregnant before, but then there was only the faint bump on the body, and the general idea that a baby would eventually come from the big white stork who lives in The North Pole to live in our non-baby ready house at some point in 2015.
But now, we’re getting close…er…and it’s starting to feel really scary. Not bad scary, just different scary.
It first started with our dear friends and the regifting of all their crap.
You know the ones I’m talking about…
The “we just had our last/only baby, and don’t need any of these things anymore, would you and Roy like them?” friends. So, the deliveries start. And at first it’s super exciting, like a Summer Christmas, where all the gifts are for some tiny doll that you’re going to get closer to the actual holiday, and who will obviously need 10,000 white unitards to wear for tea parties and dances. So you duitifully fold them carefully (it’s not that easy to fold clothes so tiny), put them away in a drawer, and then sort of forget they’re there.
Then come the toys.
The activity centers, building blocks, legos, teething strings, stuffed everything, wood everything, rocking everything. Followed by the chairs: high chairs, car seats, bouncy door chairs. And not slowly but suddenly, the pile in the center of the “baby’s room” begins to grow. But really, it’s just the spare room which still needs to be painted as the last colors of brown and teal aren’t working for anyone, let alone a developing human being, and there isn’t a scrap of furniture in there minus a tiny bookshelf and a glider you scooped off Craigslist for a steal.
So, as the items themselves keep rolling in, and your baby crap mound begins to expand, your body, which was once described by Sir Mixx Alot as, “Little in the Middle, But Ya Got Much Back” is also changing, growing, expanding.
And it’s not bad, it’s just different.
Suddenly, your new bras which are already a cup bigger than your usual fair are tight and in need of a larger upgrade. The jeans you believed you could wear along with the “AMAZING BELLY BAND” (for those not in the know, imagine a toob top you wear around your expanding middle so that your pants can be unbuttoned while out and about, fooling you into thinking that no one else knows your pudging out, while it’s pretty freaking obvious what’s happening), are getting tighter in the ASS, not the middle, because of the sweet treats you’ve been suddenly increasing in your somewhat still healthy diet.
Candy after every meal, no matter how green the dish, can add a LOT of additional calories.
Oh, and chocolate milk three times a day doesn’t help that much either.
Shirts that used to be considered long bodied are letting bottom bits of tummy peek out, somewhat like a prison inmate who has never seen the sun – at first, just a bit, uncertain, blinded and then suddenly there’s a break out and all flesh is running for the open exit gate.
And please, let’s not forget the purchase of new shoes. I want to be crystal clear when I say “new shoes”, what I actually mean is flip flops and orthopedics. The swelling and pressure that affect YOUR WHOLE BODY (I’ll leave out the trouble that this double trouble issue has on your intestines for your own peace of mind but know that it’s THERE TOO!) take a lovely Sunday turn on your feet that suddenly have extra weight to hoist, which makes all cute ballet flats, summer sandals, and anything else without extra arch support and padding UNWEARABLE. Your life becomes what can actually hold your beastly body up for 10 hours as your feet continue to widen visibly during the day and start to resemble the 10 little pigs by night time.
And this isn’t all bad, it’s just different.
When the homeless man sees you coming out of boxing class shoeless, enroute to your car to grab your water bottle and feels the urge to yell, “Now, THAT’S pregnant and barefoot”, he’s not being mean, per se, he’s pointing out how things are now different for you.
Or when trying on a one piece swimsuit to wear for a little extra exercise date to counterbalance the additional chocolate milk intake, you have to decide if you don’t mind your boobs and thighs making a pronounced visit as in the suit’s best effort to cover the belly, the available material from the other viable areas is being pulled and sucked towards the middle, making you look like a fat, Baywatch, imitation.
I’m not being cynical, I’m being observant.
But yesterday was another new one for me. Another reminder that I’m out of the biggest loop of my life, and have to get on the bandwagon REAL QUICK, before I’m streamrolled by this kid in 19 weeks. And that was during the baby registry.
My amazing homie, with four (awesome) offspring of her own, took non existent time out of her day to go over with me the nuances and necessities of having a newborn. And I was floored. Here’s the short list of all which I know nothing:
- Nipple sizes and shapes for bottle tops and pacifiers. Should they look more like a natural woman or have the special design for orthodontics?;
- Glass bottle or BPA free plastic bottles. Which ones will clean better after they’ve been lost in your car for 3 months and once discovered, looks like a very expensive terrarium;
- Strollers – do they have a back recliner, sippie cup holder, area for snap on toy placement, ease of packing, sun protection, color, height….
- 100% cotton materials, get them…for every item…no matter what;
- Water proof bedding for both the baby AND you, because you’ll both be leaking for the first few months- awesome;
- Do you want the baby’s bumper bedding to be lions playing a sport, lions on a train, lions with other safari animals in trees, lions in a boat….WHICH LION DESIGN DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BABY???
- Buy a crib that lasts 6 months, 1 year, 4 years, or forever…the apparently expand…
And the list goes on and on.
I made it about 4 hours before I lost my mind and had to cease with the registering. I suddenly realized everything I didn’t know in regards to this new little life, and it kicked me on my tookis. Honestly, I wasn’t overwhelmed as much as I was in shock about everything that was unknown to me. I get it when new parents say the learning curve is extreme.
Thank god I have friends with kids already, or I may die.
So, 19 weeks to go. Are you ready? I think we will be. But don’t worry, it’s not bad, it’s just different.