August 28, 2008
Pregnancy Update, Part II
Where was I? Oh yes, having the time of my life.
I'm finally obviously pregnant enough that strangers in elevators and cashiers at stores ask me about the baby. As sure as I was that this would feel awkward and invasive, it's actually pretty fun. I may change my mind if people start walking up to me on the street with their hands outstretched toward my personal space, but until then I'm kind of relishing the attention; would it be too much if I screenprinted a T-shirt with the words "Yes, I am!"?
Despite what I wrote yesterday, I really don't have much to complain about (for now, at least). I'm not truly uncomfortable (yet), and although it's hard to adjust to the extra weight, I still feel like I'm carrying a smaller load than a lot of six-monthers. As far as symptoms go, I'm well aware of how very much worse things could be, so little annoyances like fat feet and chestne are hardly worth mentioning except as curiosities to preserve for posterity. (Although for what specific posterity I'm unsure, as hopefully my son will not be fascinated but instead appropriately horrified if he eventually reads any of this.)
The very best part, though, is feeling the baby move throughout the day (and night). It's one of the coolest/wonderfullest/freakiest things I've experienced. In ascending order of weirdness, there are (1) kicks and punches, (2) gut-rumbling jumbles, and (3) super-creepy slithers, where I feel him press out with an appendage and run it along the barrier between our two worlds for a quick second before withdrawing again. Despite the sensation's resemblance to the climactic scence of a sci-fi horror-flick, it's easy to get over how gross (yes, gross) it sometimes feels because these are also the moments when it most seems like the baby is actually here in the room with me instead of existing only in some distant future. Those are also the times when I talk to him the most. Hello, son! Hi! Whatcha doin' in there, buddy?
I can see him too. On Monday I spent half of a staff meeting staring at my jumping belly (jumping like a Mexican jumping bean! or wriggling like a worm in a tequila bottle!) and when I asked Simon if he thought my coworkers could see my belly twitch from across the room, he said more likely they were staring at me staring at myself, no doubt grinning like a goon. Or, you know, like an expectant mother, same diff. Parenthood strips us of our dignity in a myriad of unexpected ways.
I used to narrate Wombat's movements for Simon--"The baby's awake," "House party in my belly," "He seems to like Smashing Pumpkins"--but now that I feel him so often I usually only bring up his movements when they're particularly strong or steady. Simon doesn't seem to enjoy gazing at my bare stomach for hours on end in anticipation of a few jiggles or jolts (Wombat almost always settles down when I gather an audience), but he's always excited to rest a hand there while his eyes are on something more instantly gratifying: women's Olympic volleyball or nonstop political analysis. (Make it stop!)
But I kind of like it that way. I like that most of our boy's connection to the world is through me, and that if he wants to make his presence known, I'm the one he has to go through. I like sitting on the couch and watching him do whatever it is he's doing in there. (Is that a new dance move or a Phelpsian flip turn? Perhaps you are spiking imaginary volleyballs across the tether of your umbilical cord?) I like that when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee or to snack or to just lie there and wish for sleep, I know what position makes baby wake up and go bump bump bump. I also like that waking him up now doesn't yet involve a feeding and a diapering. I like that when his dad and feline siblings are unconscious and nose-whistling around me, the two of us can have that (mostly) quiet time to regard each other and nothing else. It's 3 a.m., my mind is hazy, my vision blurry like I'm underwater, and I think about him underwater too, floating like an astronaut on a mission to a strange new planet, his head disproportionate as a cartoon space helmet. He's my space monkey, I'm his rocketship. He's my sea-monkey, I'm his aquarium. He's my alien lifeform, I'm his cocoon. I'm his Kanga, he's my Roo.
This is what my second trimester has been. I'm beyond the paralyzing anxiety of those first few months, and I've not yet crossed the Styx into whatever fresh hell those last few months might be. From within come the daily reassurances that all is well in Wombland, and from without come the nods and smiles of strangers and the unrestrained, wide-mouthed glee of one particularly proud papa-to-be. The more I prepare, the more I realize that I'm mostly just preparing to feel unprepared and to be comfortable with that. Even when I'm doing nothing at all, I'm at work on something huge, something life-changing, something earth-shaking. What a charge, what a choice, what a surprise, what a wonder, what a Wombat. What did I ever spend my days and nights thinking about before there was you?
Posted by Leah at August 28, 2008 01:45 PMThat was beautiful, and despite the chestne and fat feet, if he ever reads it, I'm sure he'll know he was well loved from the very first minute! Congratulations again to you both, especially for the Kanga and Roo part. :)
Posted by: Sarah at August 28, 2008 02:13 PMThis is not a new sentiment for me to express, but this is all just so awesome, in the literal sense of the word. I want to go through this myself, and experience the awe first hand.
Posted by: Jess at August 28, 2008 02:24 PMI love this post. I will come back and read it in a few years when the stars have aligned and I myself am incubating a sproglet. I think I will feel a kinship. Right now, I just think: COOL.
Posted by: Moose at August 28, 2008 02:27 PMReally lovely post. As much as I look forward to having kids in the not too distant future, I also have a lot of anxiety and a little ambivalence about what an awesome responsibility awaits me, but when I read something like this, it reminds me of how much magic there is to anticipate.
Posted by: water sign at August 28, 2008 03:52 PMI remember this part! It's the BEST.
Posted by: SAJ at August 28, 2008 04:04 PMWow--thanks for sharing a peek into this lovely part of pregnancy. It makes me look forward to it, and a little less scared of all the other weird stuff I hear will happen.
Posted by: Tanya at August 28, 2008 05:45 PMEnjoy this time! It's the most fun part of pregnancy! It's comfortable (more or less) and everything looks cute. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!!! And be sure to write him letters. The one thing I HAVEN'T done this pregnancy and need to get on. I wrote Archer letters weekly while pregnant with him, sealed them in an envelope and glued in the cover of his baby book so when he grows up he can read them and know how much I adored him from the very beginning. Kisses from my fetus to yours, mama.
Posted by: GirlsGoneChild at August 28, 2008 07:10 PMFor maximum enjoyment, lie down on your back and balance the tv remote on your stomach and watch it wobble and move around with the kicks. It's hilarious, kind of like a weather vane. Or put a cat on you belly and watch the baby and cat interact. Yes I was also bewitched during this phase....or just delirious.
Posted by: Susan at August 28, 2008 08:31 PMBrilliant, Leah. Absolutely brilliant :)
Posted by: Brooke at August 29, 2008 03:12 AMYou hit the nail on the head about why I loved being pregnant so much. The fast little bit DOES suck but once it's over it's the lovely part that you'll remember.
Posted by: lainey at August 29, 2008 05:29 AMI was not a good pregnant woman. I was on bed rest 12 weeks with one and 11 with the other. It was uncomfortable for me. I lost 30 pounds with each and blah blah blah. I didn't write to tell you that, I wrote to say, the best thing I can remember was the easy movements. Once they turned into jabs to my cervix, I wasn't quite as excited.
But, those easy punches, jabs and slivers as you put it, those are the most priceless times of life. And, since my pregnancies as a whole were so difficult, I love reading women's stories when they have these wonderful healthy pregnancy and can just sit back and enjoy being pregnant. I don't think I ever enjoyed, I just enjoyed the excitement of having my baby and meeting my child. But, I read lots of women's blogs who have the most wonderful pregnancies.
I know everyone has miserable times at some point and most every one is miserable by the week or so near their due date or maybe even 2 weeks, but some people can just put the joy into words so well that it makes me giddy inside...you are one of them!
Posted by: Jerri Ann at August 29, 2008 05:44 AMI felt a twinge at "I'm his Kanga, he's my Roo," and full-out lost it by your last sentence. So beautiful (unlike me choking back tears at my desk right now).
Posted by: jive turkey at August 29, 2008 05:53 AMI finally get it: WOMB-bat. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer here.
Posted by: kate caldwell at August 29, 2008 10:43 AMYes, Simon likes to pronounce "womb" phonetically.
Posted by: Leah at August 29, 2008 11:17 AMYou've got nothing but great things to look forward to. Fatigue may set in and all that, but the excitement of his impending arrival will erase most of that.
Be glad you live where you do, and the seasons are what they are. My wife went through a lot of discomfort here in Texas, during hot hot hot summers, on her way to birthing our two boys (four years apart) in December.
Posted by: Texas T-bone at August 29, 2008 03:07 PMOh, our summers are just beginning. It heats up here from September to November, and no one has air conditioning. It's been 90 for the past few days and I'm DYING.
Posted by: Leah at August 29, 2008 03:57 PMIt only gets better. You may get more uncomfortable physically but the sheer amazement of bringing that little life into the world overwhelms all of that. My 5 week old just smiled at me for the first time and my heart burst into a million pieces. There may have been shooting stars and fairy dust raining down too. Just a little something for you to look forward to.
Posted by: Sara at August 29, 2008 06:18 PMoh that is so fun! My baby is a teenager now,it goes too quickly!
Posted by: thatgirl at August 30, 2008 01:10 PM"gazing at my bare stomach for hours on end in anticipation of a few jiggles or jolts"
I totally hear you. That's what I did...
Hours. On. End.
We've had 30 "official" 100-degree days so far this summer. They measure the official temp at the airport, where nobody lives. After a week of low 90s and rain, it's back to near-100 and humid. Mostly it's a somewhat dry heat, which is still hot.
It's all relative, though. I'd be wearing sweatshirts if I were there.
Posted by: Texas T-bone at August 31, 2008 10:52 AMThe same kind of midnight peaceful-ness exists during those newborn feedings and diaper changes too. The world tries to tell you how horrible it's going to be, how tired and cranky it will make you but I always loved it. Nobody else around demanding to pinch their cheeks or evaluate who they look like; just us getting to know each other while everyone else sleeps.
Posted by: jessica at August 31, 2008 02:23 PMSo lovely.
Posted by: Jemima at September 1, 2008 09:32 AMI remember seeing a foot protruding out of my belly. It was the weirdest thing. Guess she just needed to stretch. It still makes me smile to think of it now.
Posted by: Asianmommy at September 1, 2008 04:32 PMThis is a phenomenal piece of writing. I remember those quiet nights when cats and husband slept soundly and twitched in their own personal dreamlands while "squirrel" danced around in the world he and I inhabited. It's an amazing experience, isn't it?
Posted by: Christen at September 1, 2008 05:38 PMI'm hoping by reading your blog enough, your writing skills will rub off on me. The way you describe things, I could actually picture your son playing volleyball in his temporary home. I think that he will enjoy reading about your experiences someday. I know that I do.
Posted by: Green Eyes at September 2, 2008 10:37 AM
