6/16/2006

Size does matter

Christ on a bike, it's been nearly 3 weeks since my last post again. I'm not very good at this pregnancy blogging thing. My lack of blogging has a lot to do with being far too lazy and fucking hot to type, plus with all the bad news floating around the IF blogosphere I feel immensely self-centred blabbing about pregnancy-related crap that ultimately doesn't matter.

So what am I going to do now but blog about these things? Yeah, I'm nothing if not consistent. I won't talk about being fat, because I still maintain that my pregnancy weight gain has been in all the right places. However, I will blog about my current resemblance to an aging plowhorse.

In my everyday life, I manage to convince myself that I am not an unwieldly beast, knocking over unsuspecting passersby with my massive girth. I even wore a lovely empire waist summery dress the other day and felt good about my appearance. Sidenote- empire waists are rocking my world. As a boobylicious girl with a non-stick body, I don't get to wear these things when not pregnant. I've always loved empire waists and now I finally get to wear shirts and dresses with them without looking looking pregnant when I'm not, because I am! Anyway, I'm beginning to think me in the empire waist dress is less Gwen Stefani, more Pru Goes to the Big Top. It's not a help when a female co-worker (and noted Child Bore) says: "Is it just me, or do you look bigger today? Oh, it's probably just the dress!" Haha! Of course. Both options are just oh-so flattering, and I thank you for pointing out my tent-like status. I can house small children and rodents underneath it during thunderstorms!

Tuesday night was our first antenatal class, and of the 7 other women, I was only one of two that even looked pregnant. This, despite the fact that the latest due date was early September. Being as the class is run in a small village's little hippy dippy meditation centre (no shoes allowed!!) we had to sit on large cushions positioned on the carpet. For two hours. How wise is this? My fat ass had to lever myself down to the floor utilising the radiator for balance, and getting up...well, let's just say it was a mess of massively awkward proportions. Ass may have been seen by some of the other attendees thanks to my sliding maternity jeans and my preoccupation with getting up without seeing stars rather than focusing on inevitable plumber's butt.

We did a few exercises that involved group work and drawing on big pieces of paper placed on the floor. I sat on my cushioned throne, watching these other lithe creatures crawl all over the floor like they didn't have a uterus the size of a soccer ball and a 3-4 pound baby inside of them. The odd thing is, I'm not terribly out of shape for a woman of nearly 32 weeks. I walk a lot every day, eat lots of fruit and drink a lot of water. Why can I not glide across the floor effortlessly like them? I tried to lean over once to write on the paper and it was as if I'd just carried a 100 pound bag of rocks across the Sahara, it was such an effort. Where are the larger-stomached women and why are they not in my antenatal class? Don't even get me started on the woman who had beautifully (French) pedicured toes and manicured nails. I looked down at my grubby, chipped toenail polished feet in shame, attempting to cover them with the flares of my jeans.

Sitting here now, I've just realised that I have what might be one of the most disgusting exhibits of pregnancy during hot weather - the under boob sweat. Yeah. The boobs, they kind of rest on the top of my stomach, so when it's unbearably hot as it is now, there is a lovely line of sweat appearing on my top between the boobs and stomach. I really hope that hasn't shown itself when I'm at work because, wow...that's a little bit embarrassing.

Along the same lines, and stop reading if you're easily disgusted, is the fact that I think I may have developed a FUPA. Thankfully, said FUPA is not visible when standing up, but when sitting down there is definite FUPA-age. I was trimming the garden the other day when I first noticed it and it was a sad, sad time for me. I thought surely FUPA was an urban myth, or one of those things that just happens to other women, but here it is on my doorstep. FUPA and boob sweat at the same time? I am one hot bitch.

To wrap this up, I'll tell you of a funny conversation I had with my mom the other day:

Her: Well, you'll certainly get used to needles and people poking around down there in this time leading up to having the baby and when you actually have it.

Me: Uh, you are aware that this child was conceived via IVF, right? There is a slight element of vaginal exams and needles involved with that whole procedure.

Her: I know. I'm just saying you'll get even more accostomed to it now.

Me: Yeah...ok. Wait, you do know of the 4 IUIs before the IVF right? The endless cycles of Clomid before that? This cooch has seen more action from a magic wand than 100 lesbian pornos and more needles than even the most dedicated junkie could use in a lifetime.

Her: Pru, I know. I'm just saying...

Oh, they never learn, do they? All those times I've told her about the rigours of infertility treatments, and now all of a sudden it's childbirth that is going to acclimate me to people being all up in my business and poking needles in me. It's all so simple in their world, isn't it?

17 comments:

EJW said...

I had a similar conversation with my mother. I'm at the stage of a month between appointments and I'm finding a month to be a really long time. I expressed some anxiousness to go back, and she was surprised.

I had to explain, I've had bi-weekly, if not weekly or more, ultrasounds and blood draws and updates for the last six months plus. To suddenly go a month without medical attention feels like I've been abandoned.

Rachel said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
deborah said...

Wait...is "trimming the garden" a euphemism?

MsPrufrock said...

Rachel - There were many times when the dog option seemed far more palatable. However, I really do think that after the initial rounds of treatment, it all blends together and you just go with it.

Deborah - It is a euphemism. I wasn't literally out doing gardening whilst examining my FUPA. However, it would make for an interesting story...

deborah said...

Whew. You had me worried there for a minute.

elle said...

HA! Our moms should get together - and hopefully leave us out of it. Damn Pru, I laughed my ass off! I'm glad things are uneventful. As for belly - I was at teh other end of that. Everyone was shocked and horrified when I told them how far along I was. Like when I was 6 mos, everyone thought I was 4. So I can appreciate that. And, despite my "smaller" size, I felt like EVERYTHING was a FUCKING CHORE. Sometimes sitting perfectly still & reading I would have to catch my breath. Seriously. For me, it was the hormones. So you're not alone there.

Thalia said...

Rachel, if you're still reading, just because you come from a huge family of fertile women is no reason to assume you will have an easy time getting pregnant. So do I, and no dice. So please keep that type of comment to yourself in future. You are bloody lucky.

Pru I'm sorry to hear about the indignities of late pregnancy. And frankly, to have a mother who doesn't get it is not such a bad thing. Mine just wants detail after detail and it's all a bit wearing.

Kath said...

Dear Pru, yabbut just wait until you give birth, because that's when your privates really get some attention. Really. I mean real attention. By doctors and nurses and stuff. And possibly needles. I'm not kidding! Real needles! Honest!

Sorry. I'm laughing with you...

And Rachel, I had the hardest time deciding whether your comment was for real, or a deliciously wicked spoof. It was only your fourth paragraph that decided things -- the wrong way.

Rachel said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Jenn said...

I always am the biggest in all our classes, and usually the least far along. I had a FUPA before I got pregnant :(

Molly said...

Well, really, dear. Only 2 months left! Surely you won't get any bigger or more unwieldy in that time.

Hee hee.

Em said...

Yeah...about antenatal classes...it pretty much goes all out the window when you are in labour. It did for me anyway. I told them to rip my "just gas and air, please" birth plan and give me an epidural. I discovered I have NO pain threshold. The classes are good for finding a support group though (excluding french manicured toes women).

Shadiva said...

Oy. The sweat. Everywhere there is sweat. Under the boobs, under the pits, behind the knees...it never ends.

I think I could stand in the Arctic and say "Is it hot here, or is it just me?"

Georgia said...

Your mom and needles. What is the big fuss about learning all this stuff from childbirth anyway? RE stuff is SO much more informative.
Anyway, sorry 'bout the FUPA. Think of it as a bumper/protector for Enid's head...Or not.

fisher queen said...

I was rolling until the not so funny conversation with your mom. I have nothing nice to say except Grrr.

AmyLew2 said...

Was questioning why we were hearing about an easy pregnancy and labor on this blog then decided it was most likely someone trying to understand when theyre really just completely centered on their own pregnancy right now and wanting to talk about it to anyone who would listen.

Ya, I feel the bigger than anyone feelings. Why do they always want us to sit on the floor?
I was dying over the fupa and breast sweat. Ive come to the conclusion that being pregnant makes you feel 10 degrees hotter than anyone else. While we know we should be feeling wonderfull about carrying new life inside us, nurturing it, a miracle! We are really hot, tired, out of breath with walnut sized bladders, feeling like a distant cousin to orca.

As for your mom, poor thing, just trying to say something that you both can relate to then falling flat on her face. Cookie for trying. :)

Rachel said...

Pru, please drop me a comment if you get a chance and leave me your email since I can't seem to find it anywhere!

You show me yours and I'll show you mine... ;-)