Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Countdown

Yesterday, Zoey turned 11 months old. That means that in just 29 short days she will be one year old. To say that time flew by astonishingly fast would be the understatement of the century. Not helping matters, Zoey decided to hastily breeze through every stage as if she can't wait to get to the next. She started pulling herself up on furniture when the doctor was asking us if she had yet to sit upright unsupported. She has more teeth than I can count or keep track of as they sprout up. She has been taking a couple of steps, saying more words, and recently discovered the art of throwing tantrums. Zoey has been the most absolutely perfect baby, I wouldn't mind having a million of her, or just having her stay a baby forever. I love her more every day and can't wait to spend time with her. Like I've told her every month she gets closer to her birthday, if I knew her then like I know her now, I wouldn't mind being pregnant with her forever.

But, I have to say, I'm glad I wasn't. For one, that would have meant I would never get to know her. But let's be real, I hated being pregnant. I wouldn't have minded it so much if it hadn't come with a toilet strapped to my arms at all times, or the horrifying way the baby must come into the world. They say every pregnancy is different, as is every baby. So, really, I'm screwed either way. At any rate, here is [a slightly edited version of] what was happening at this time last year, with some notations/corrections/outcomes......

Today I am exactly one week out from being 9 months pregnant. It’s been quite the ride, hasn’t it? Yes, I really feel for you, reader.
Although I spend most of my waking hours day-nightmare-ing about birthing an 11-pound baby, there is a small portion of my brain that has started the countdown and is extremely ecstatic to have this whole pregnancy bullshit over and behind me. The “safe” delivery zone can’t come fast enough and as well all know patience is something I’m stellar at. In this regard, I’ve begun thinking/listing everything I can’t wait to do/won’t miss when I’m not pregnant because I like to make things as miserable as possible for myself.
So here goes.
I can’t wait to:
Put my wedding rings back on. Brilliant me put them back on too soon and wasn't able to get them off. After about a week, and legitimate concerns that I could lose the finger, I sobbed while Jacob cut them off. They have since been fixed and re-sized but since I lost so much weight they are now too big.
Eat chocolate. I'll eat it and crave it, but I still have low tolerance; after one or two handfuls of M&Ms I'm done.
Eat cake. See above.
Drink the Applebee’s Red Apple Sangria that is served in a fishbowl. It really wasn't that great.
Drink coffee with creamer.
Have a venti pumpkin spice latte.
Have a venti vanilla latte. Maybe in the same day. YUM-tastic! But I've since given up caffeine.
Wave good-by to the intense back pain. Instantly gone post birth, thank you God!
Only have heartburn on rare occasions.
Have sex more than once a month.
Be awake after the sun has gone down. Since I've given up caffeine I still have to work on this.
Be able to read again without the pregnancy ADHD kicking in. Well, now, I just have limited time to read - an hour a day on my lunch break.
Have good dreams, instead of just the awful, horrifying pregnancy dreams. Gone, thank God!
Not have to hawk my lungs up every 5 minutes. I get it. My mucus plug is strong.
Be relieved of the carpel tunnel syndrome. Thank you, swelling.
Wear high heels.
Wear the rest of my wardrobe. Welp, since I lost so much weight, I can't do that.
Take a hot shower without inducing a major hot flash.
Have strangers not talk to me like they know me.
Not have to guard my belly against people who think its public domain.
Not be big and uncomfortable.
Wear pajamas. I still don't do this, and, in fact, have developed an intolerance to clothing.
Not have to change my underwear twice a day. I still do this. I guess it is habit now. I sure do laundry like crazy, though!
Have my old body back. I haven’t been one to freak out over my ever-changing body over the last few months (although stepping on the scale has become a tad frightening). But I can feel my bikini body underneath all of the baby insulation and I’m looking forward to having it back. As frustrated as I am that gaining weight has proven to be such an uphill battle, I am still liking my body at this point. Who am I kidding, I always like my body (even though I say I don't but anyone who knows me knows I'm just fishing for compliments). Now, I'm all muscle and bone.

(Ok, this picture was taken when I was 3 months pregnant, but thanks to throwing up every 20 minutes, I had a slammin' body.)

To not have to see the doctor ever month/two weeks/week.
To not waddle.
To step into the elevator and it not go BOOM!
To not get winded from walking 10 paces.

I will say that there will be some aspects of pregnancy that I will miss.

First and foremost, I will miss getting out of doing things. Mom said it wasn’t good for me to vacuum. Shame. This goes hand-in-hand with carrying things. I’m not allowed to and I think I can only stretch this one for at least a week or two after I give birth. Ohhhh yeahhh! After I gave birth and healed, the chivalry train came to a grinding halt. BUT! I will say that I have the most caring, attentive, and sensitive husband ever so I barely notice. Sometimes.... ;-) Additionally, I will miss:

Being able to say, “Fuck you, you don’t have to do it.”
Being able to finish an entire meal at IHOP. And then some.
Not having to be subjected to second-hand smoke.
The sleep/comas.
Being able to wear whatever I want simply because it makes me slightly more comfortable, and to those that don’t like it I can say, “Fuck you, you don’t have to do it.”
How fabulous my nails have become.
The baby movements. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t reached the end yet, but I prefer to think that I am just one of the lucky ones that didn’t feel pain when the baby moved or kicked. She gave me a swift one once but otherwise she just uses her feet to push out in a slow, fluid motion. I will not miss, however, her slamming into my cervix.
I will miss my boobs. I know they’ll get considerably larger in the next few weeks, especially after popping out the little booger, but it’s really no fun if they’re leaking stuff, and I know they’ll go away after I’m done breastfeeding and all I’ll be left with are saggy bags of sand. Sorry, saggy, stretch-marked bags of sand. After trying for a couple of days, breastfeeding wasn't working out. I wasn't one of those that was super-attached to the idea, I just wanted to do it for the monetary benefit. In the end, I am so glad I didn't continue with breastfeeding. Zoey didn't seem to mind when I stopped since she got pretty frustrated with the whole ordeal also.
I will miss my puppies being careful around me. As anyone who has met them knows, they like to come at you at the same time, making for 140 total pounds of big, black dog; filled with nothing but love, of course. But especially if you happen to be on their level (i.e. the ground) they love to climb all over you. But they’ve been especially gentle with me lately. Last night Louis brought me his toy to tug with him but he was very gentle and didn’t tug nearly as hard as what is fun for him. So he then moved on and tried to get Durbin to tug with him. He gave up until Jacob came home.
I will miss being selfish with my money. Yes, this sounds horrible but, yeah, Fuck you, you don’t have do it.

Pregnancy is quite the roller coaster. Just when you’re starting to get comfortable, you’re thrown for one of those upside-down loopy-loop things. And then vomit. Child-raising is the exact same thing.

I suppose it’s all just to get you semi-ready for parenthood. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I couldn’t have gotten through it without my husband.

I won’t miss being pregnant and I can’t wait for the baby. Our baby. 

 Yup! I was a biggun!

Think of stretch marks as pregnancy service stripes.
- Joyce Armor