State of Grace

There is no dignity in pregnancy and anyone who says differently is trying to sell you something. All the books on natural birth glorify the experience and seem to casually mention what the body is going through, but after a serious study of the TV show The Baby Story, I have concluded one thing. THEY LIE! I don’t think this takes a rocket scientist to notice the fewer the drugs the more of the primordial screams coming from the mother. But I respect anyone who does it.

But back to dignity, the earliest clue to my newly exposed state should have been the first time I had to pee on a stick for the pregnancy test—oh yeah its all down hill from there. Then comes puking in public places (Annika’s produce aisle story scared me to death) but I stayed within the safety of parking lots, kitchen sinks and public restrooms. As if this wasn’t bad enough, every time you go to the doctor they want to bring a “sample” that you’ve prepared ahead of time (my kind of homework)
Oh yeah and all the “check-ups” that involve probing in the area the baby will come out of, that just makes us all feel pretty right?
And it seems that your body is in on the game. If your like me once you get out of the morning-sickness phase you may feel good for about two-weeks and then you just feel like a blimp, or one of those balloons in the Macy’s day parade. Think I am joking, look at my feet, that’s not normal. To top it off your nose gets big, starts to get stuffed up or leaks constantly, your always running to the bathroom and then hello every time I try to get out of a chair I feel like I swallowed a watermelon At first you break out like a teenager and now I have dry skin like a lizard in the Sahara. And lets not even start on how humiliated I felt when I realized I was pregnant and wouldn’t have a rational emotion for the next nine-months. The thought was so terrifying I started to cry during the middle of a tennis-game between Nate and I, then I got mad and was seriously considering launching my tennis racket at him but opted to run off the court instead. That was way back when, today that seems like small potatoes compared to the view I get sideways in the mirror. I feel more like Tweedle Dee and the distinction between backside and front is disappearing rapidly. I will cut short this tirade about feminine dignity but I haven’t even considered actual labor, and oh yeah like that’s graceful. I think that’s really why God wanted people to be married before they had sex, you really want to know that someone loves you before you get to share in the joys of motherhood.

Don’t get me wrong I can’t WAIT to have a baby and have been blessed with a very healthy pregnancy these are just the comic observations that keep me from taking myself too seriously.
But in all seriousness my husband has been wonderful and always seems to be prepared for my state even before I am. Like the other day I literally broke into tears because I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror and nothing I did would bring her back. I have never really cared if anyone saw me without make-up, or spent much time on my looks, but boy did I miss them when I they were gone. One night as I cried the last of my mascara onto my husband’s clean white shirt, he comforted me and offered such sweet words of wisdom. When I thanked him later, he casually admitted he had just been reading about this phase of pregnancy and was thankful he’d had a little advance warning. Personally, I don’t care where he gets his info I just need someone committed to me during this temporary insanity and am thankful for someone who can love me through it. And thankfully he can also sleep through most of my tossing and turning at night. I think there is a reason the God had hippo’s live in water!