Big time baby in my belly.

More photos of the chaos that is pregnancy....this little guy is going to be a big one.

There was a time...

There was a time when the sun went down and I didnt yawn and stretch and head to bed.

There was a time when my boobs went out farther from my body than my belly did.

There was a time when I would chew my nails and not have to rechew them for weeks.

There was a time when watching commercials with babies on it didnt make me cry.

There was a time when I could work a 12 hour shift, and not shudder in pain for the next 3 days because my hips felt like they had literally separated.

There was a time when Jake and I would lock ourselves in the house, drink 3 bottles of wine, and have dance parties in our kitchen.

There was a time when heartburn was something my dad got after dinner.

There was a time when the scale and me ....well we werent friends, but we were on terms we both could understand...

There was a time when I didnt need to eat 4 boxes of Runts just to feel good about my afternoon.

There was a time when I didnt spend half the day worrying over the stretching and dilating of my body one day just weeks from now..        

There was a time when my bladder was actually a useful organ, not a flimsy wimp of a thing at the mercy of an invading uterus.

There was a time when I walked normally, with no strange gait or waddle.

There was a time when getting out of a car was something I could do WITHOUT a 30 second pep talk.

There was a time when farting was something that happened only periodically.

THere was a time when my brain worked, and was efficient and thorough.

There was a time when if my shoe didn’t slip on I would bend over to put it on, instead of cancelling my whole day and sitting back down.

There was a time when I could lift things without feeling like my entire body was going to come out of my special area.

There was a time when Jake had never read a book about birth...it was a simpler time.

There was  a time that a mucous plug was something that just sounded gross and couldn’t be real

There was a time when jake would steam roll me in bed to wake me up....rude.

There was a time when wine was water, and water was not something that could break inside me.

There was a time when Jake would never had made me get up to do squats with him because "the book said so"

There was a time when i didnt spend time in my morning planning out my day specifically to how long i could be out without my feet swelling, and with the least amount of stops to avoid getting in and out of the car.

There was a time when I could sleep on my belly, or on my side, or turn side to side without sounding like I just finished a race.

There was a time when vomiting was only something that happened to me after nursing parties

There was a time when stretch marks were only something I noticed in my well used clothing..not my skin.

There was a time when my uterus was theoretical to me...not a very real part of my every day functioning.

There was a time when the only thing my body could grow was leg hair and fingernails.

There was a  time when “ring of fire” was the name of some cool movie and not a medical term of something that will happen to me.

And now. Im pregnant. 35 weeks and a bit to be right on the money. So everything is different now. Obviously more difficult, but im hoping  that five weeks from now,  I will have a list of cool things that I do now instead of the things I cant do. ...like make a baby that looks like me and little bit and jake a little bit smile.

And finish all the Ubrew wine we’ve made in under a week.

I will keep you posted on both.

Check this out

FOr reals, this is me. I was getting into bed last night and Jake was blown away by how HUGE this abdomen that is attached to me is. We laughed about how enourmous it has gotten without us really noticing...well without HIM noticing...I notice on a daily, minute by minute basis. And yet it still surprises me. Anyways..... check this out.

ps. I have edited out stretch marks so as not to upset everyone...mostly myself.

Umm hello there person in the mirror...have we met?

So who is this person I have become?

I was trying to explain to Jake the other night how confusing being pregnant is. He doesn’t get my irrational thought processes, the dreams I have where me and Jake are in high school and we need to go a “break” and I wake up crying, the frustration that can emerge just because I cant get the lid off of a jar,  or my new development of wanting him around all the time, everyday.

Its kind of hard to explain to someone that isn’t or hasn’t been through a pregnancy, and its almost impossible to explain to man.

Women have a hard enough time for the most part knowing who they are and accepting that about themselves. They see their bodies and consider it and what should be different, what they liked that someone else had, and how they can pose themselves in photos to avoid certain flaws. Its serious. Its a truth that you all know you do, and if you are a boy, you really weren’t supposed to know. So anyways, we want shorter hair so we cut it, and then we cry because we loved our long hair, we buy a new outfit thinking it will change our lives but find that nobody really noticed it....except for our girlfriends (thank god for girlfriends), we work to lose weight and then complain that we didn’t lose it from the RIGHT place,  we gain weight according to a scale and suddenly see it all over like thick blanket that we are sure everyone else is just staring at. We’re women. And we cant help ourselves. Women are wonderful. They are empathetic and wonderful listeners, multi taskers and efficiency experts, eager to improve ourselves at every turn, whether its in their careers, their hobbies, their friendships, or their love lives, although for the most part, in my opinion, you cant improve on the perfection that is a woman.

Back to the topic.

We then come to some sort of terms with our mirror images, we make peace, make friends and try to not be our own worst enemies.  So we have now come to accept how we appear. Then there comes the acceptance of who we really are.  We want to be the best at everything all the time. Why is that so hard to understand? We want to be the boss,  run the show perfectly, be the best friend possible, be a nice girlfriend/wife,  raise the kids, win the marathon, finish the grocery shopping, plan a trip to Italy, raise the most money for a charity, make the big paycheques, and obviously, look amazing the whole time. So we consistently are let down. But eventually, you start to learn how much you can take on while maintaining your sanity. You learn how to enjoy your own company,  how to spoil yourself and how to appreciate yourself.  Again, this is a LONG process that women work on for their entire lives. We reluctantly accept our flaws, and learn our weaknesses, and figure out what we can have on our plate before we get sick (both theoretically and literally),  and go to sleep at night with some state of peace with who we are and what we are and what we want. Because we want everything at once, and at the same time are never really ready to commit to the responsibility that may be slyly attached.  Yes, we know we are confusing creatures, we have a hard enough time figuring out our own hearts and heads so stop reminding us.

Anyways, so we finally get to a sort of inner calm, where we learn to balance and manage our lives without wanting too much at once, or ever settling for not enough.

Then pregnancy happens. And life as we, women, know it, is 100% different.

My brain has been hijacked by a very VERY whiney woman.  She is always telling me how sore she is, how stressed she is, how lonely she is and how huge she is. She sits there weighing me down,  and its hard some days to ignore her. But I do, for the most part, she sits there in my head crying whenever a pin drops for no reason, and stomping around in frustration when she spills sugar.....but there are times, I can admit willingly, that she wins, and she comes out of me in full force, like when im watching commercials about babies, that woman wins those times, and we both sob uncontrollably because we know nobody is watching. Typically im fairly put together around other people... its hard to not be embarrassed of your emotions when you literally have no say in where they are coming from.  Some days I wake up feeling great, and then realise that I have to shower that day, and my mood just drops to below zero degrees. Its honestly its own little soap opera going on in my head and its EXHAUSTING telling someone in your head to pipe down all the time. And reigning her back in is also super hard, once she is out, she’s like a hurricane of hormones that I cant seem to get a grasp on, and at the time, don’t even want to.

Then there's that body you  had, as a woman grown to appreciate and know toes to eyebrows. Weeeellll thats gone. Its not yours anymore, its something you literally cannot figure out. Its swollen, and awkward, it makes noises youve never heard,  grows in places you had become accustomed to at a certain manageable size and aches in every place imaginable.  Your tummy becomes its own planet,  your boobs become big enough to LITERALLY carry another baby in,  your nose bleeds, your stomach revolts with heartburn, your  feet swell,  your fingers tingle,  you bladder  becomes a useless organ, your heart races, your appetite changes, and you wake up in the middle of the night jus t to burp.

Its the STRANGEST thing to get out of the shower, look at your once familiar body, and see the body full on pregnant that has replaced it. Sometimes i just stand there waiting for that person thats looking back at me to say, "oh hi madi, Im pregnant madi, we havent met but ive slowly been transforming you into me, its nice to meet you" . Yeah, again,  Im a little bit crazy i think. This belly cant be mine? And these boobs are definately not the ones i remember, was that second chin always there? why are my cheeks so red? The realisation that you have no control over this strange physique that is ever changing  becomes its own emotional battle. Every stretch mark becomes a personal loss,  every burp becomes a necessity, and every pound on weighs on not just your joints, but also your heart.

YES, its a wonderful thing, growing babies is super amazing and incredible, I agree....or I agreed when it was happening to other women...to other women’s minds and bodies....now that its mine, its a daily overwhelming realisation that I have minimal control over my head, and almost no control over my own body. It just keeps on growing, ....and my belly just keeps on moving without cause or effort from me. Because there's a PERSON in there now....is anyone else super weirded out by that?!  Literally, my body will get the hiccups....and I wont.  If that’s not rattling, what is?!

Its become apparent that I don’t quite know this woman I am right now. Shes strange, and she does weird things, and wants odd things, gets in and out of cars in bizarre ways, breathes like a marathon runner just from getting out of bed, crys because she cant find something to watch on TV, and waddles when she does ANYTHING.  But I’m counting on the fact that even though I feel like everyday I re-meet her,  that she is going to know exactly what to do when it comes to pushing out a baby. I have a feeling, that her and this huge body she lives in has one purpose, and that is to make a baby that is healthy and comes out of me when its time.  So she can hang out for a few more weeks I guess.  Although once this is all over, and my squash baby is here,  Id appreciate her taking a leave of absence ASAP...and for her to take the extra 25 lbs she brought with her.

Remember that time i was skinny? no? me neither.

Well hello there, you may not recognize me these days,  I’m that huge sweaty lady standing beside you breathing heavier than the guy that just ran a marathon, and holding her back/belly/ hips like an 80 year old woman when bending, sitting, standing....overall just existing. That’s me.  Doesn’t look much like the old me I know...remember that girl? Man. She was fun.  And much skinnier. And way better to invite out for a night of mayhem. These days, my mayhem nights are nights where me and Jake stay up until Eleven....on a weekend night....

Jake has somehow adopted my attitude as well. He’s surprised when we stay up past nine thirty at night and almost more tired by the end of the day than I am.  Some may speculate its due to the fact that he has to deal with me being pregnant all day long....but id ont even feel bad for him. If he thinks being AROUND me being pregnant is exhausting, well try BEING me while pregnant...I make myself crazy pants...with hysterical crying listening to country music, sudden onsets of depression when trying on my clothes,  bizarre laughing fits that turn into me crying, and just trying to do everything I used to do when I wasn’t pregnant ....i used to be a great multi tasker....these days multi tasking looks more like me starting alot of things and then sitting down on the couch with a glass of milk instead of finishing anything.

Which then leads to emotional moments when I find that I haven’t finished anything I started that day...

Who is this strange person I have become?

Even my mom noticed how boring I am these days...it says something when I cant even stay up to ten pm to finish watching greys anatomy with my mom on the couch because im just done with that day. ..again...who is this person?

And also?  Where did my feet go?

Walking down any form of staircase is super tricky. Its almost a cruel joke, I hav eto lean forward to see the next step, but me leaning forward means giving into the huge amount of weight  that has suddenly popped up in front of me, making me lose balance. So I pretty much hold on to anything near by while walking these days. Including Jake.

And, I can feel little limbs inside me. Pushing against me and rolling around and, well to be honest, they push back when I push on them to get them out of my ribcage. Doesn’t this baby know I need my ribs for breathing and functioning?  And hello, my lungs are under there...and breathing is already tricky so...

Me and this little guy are going to go over some serious anatomy lessons when he’s out.

HOWEVER, I have decided that I have a new career up and coming. It is nursery decorating...although it makes me sad to think some mom out there wouldn’t want to decorate her own nursery for her little baby...she would be one of those really rich moms that just wants to show her friends her vera Wang mobile and fendi crib bumper. Judged. So maybe this isn’t a career I would be into.

Although, I am pretty impressed by my little nursery.  And I think that the baby will like it. Although I don’t really think he cares...I’ve learned, and Jake has learned that nurseries are more for the mom to be than for the baby.  Since he can barely even see as a newborn I don’t know if he will truly appreciate the beautiful tree wall decal I’ve bought for him ...and me. I think that also my new sobriety has lead to more creativity....that’s the only reason I can come up with for my new found interest in thank you card making and scrapbooks. However, I will gladly give up this new found creative side of my brain for wine again in 7 weeks.

Me and Jake also have our prenatal class coming up.  That should be more that interesting. I accidentally bought jake a book to help him prepare for the event that I will call “the big show” (this is when the baby the size of a watermelon will come out of me), I now regret this decision. Jake started reading it last night. ..since then I have had numerous tasks and recommendations by Jake via the book about how to make labour easier.

Jake literally wants me to do squats with him everyday. Squatting is something that at this point in my pregnancy...and at this WEIGHT im at, I think a solid squat will just straight up push the baby out accidentally. He also has already started lecturing me about drinking during labour, and how I am “not allowed to get mad” when he tells me I need to drink.

Let me make this clear. At some point during the big show , where  I AM THE MAIN EVENT, and the baby is the big star, Jakes needs are going to be lost in the mess.  Even if Jakes needs are to make sure Im drinking enough, or whatever.  I have a strong feeling there will be a point where Jake wants to tell me something else he learned about how I can cope better and I will accidentally punch him.  I wont mean to, but I have a feeling it will feel like life and death at that point, and nobody can be held responsible for their reactions at a time like that.

Again. We will see where this book takes mine and Jakes relationship. We only have to push through the next 7 weeks....lets all send happy thoughts to my huge belly, my already stressed out baby doorway, and Jakes wellbeing.

Nursery Love to Follow :)

Dear Stretch Mark.

You are rude.
You sit there...existing as if you deserve to.
I wake up enjoying my day and then you show your face, sprawled out there across my once cute huge belly.
You are dark like night and evil.
If you could speak you would speak with a thick growl in your voice. Like a grumpy old man. or like a witch. and it would hurt my ears.
If you had a smell you would smell like old milk.
You keep crawling across my abdomen with each passing week, despite any and all efforts to keep you at bay.
Its as shocking and as depressing as coming back to my car and seeing a parking ticket.
You are like swear words written in my skin.
Wikipedia says you are due to my raging horomones and to the fact that theres a human growing inside me, but that is no excuse and i want you to leave.
My husband says the more of you that arrive, the more the baby loves me....I think he is trying to avoid triggering said raging horomones from unleashing themselves on him.
I have concerns you and him have some sort of covert deal going on behind my back. And god knows i cant turn around quick enough to notice if you do.
So if there is some conspiring going on back there where you are allowed to keep showing up and he will keep trying to convince me of strange reasons they are there like "that one means he will be smart" and "that one means he loves you" i would appreciate it if you both would not anymore.
At this pace Jake is going to start running out of nice things to say and Im going to forget my skin color used to be a pretty peachy color and assume that dark agressive purple is normal.
I will make peace with the fact that you being there on the outside does mean the baby is getting big and fat in the inside...but thats enough please.
You have overstayed your welcome. and there was no welcome in the first place, so overall you are just intruding on my life and my body.
Rude.
here are some images of said stretch marks and their anger on my poor baby filled tummy...via my awesome paint program skills.

You will note: here-no stretch marks. happy belly.

Stretch Marks Arrive and swear at me.

What i see when i look in the mirror.....aggressive words written in my tummy.
HOWEVER: This is what i see when i close my eyes and ignore the war that is ensueing between my skin and this pregnancy.......

So. Fine. Stretch marks, you are here...but soon so will the bear cub, and then i will be so distracted with diapers, lack of sleep, and the never ending cries for more milk that i will forget you exist.

Oh, and at that point i will get to play with the little thing that caused you, and im assuming hes going to be cute enough for me to forget about any ugliness ever happened to bake him.

In. Your. Big. Purple. Face.