The cure for feeling pregnant

When I walked into my second appointment with my new doctor (who I love) and the first question she asked was, "So how are you feeling?" I kind of balked because I don't want to complain about stuff that I can't change and is normal, and ended up giggling and saying, "Eh?" And she laughed along and said, "Just very pregnant, right?"

Yes. These days, I am feeling very pregnant. (At 34 weeks and 1 day I can safely say that I am huge. I've had well-meaning women walk up to me and ask me when I'm due. When they find out that it's about 6 weeks away, they have said, "Really? Wow! I never got that huge during my pregnancies!" Instead of immediately getting offended, I laughed and nodded. What can I say? My belly is big! And who can blame it as Jude is at 6 lbs already.) What does feeling pregnant mean? Feeling pregnant means that every part of my body is affected by the weight. My hips, back, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, neck, pelvic muscles, and stomach muscles ache pretty consistently. Some more than others.

Sometimes, the tendons in my lower stomach freak out and cramp like a charlie horse. My hips have been pushed to their limit so much that they pop in and out of place. My knees calves and ankles are all swollen from the water retention and feel bruised. My back? I don't think my back will ever forgive me. I have so many back problems that it seems silly to complain. Unlike normal injuries, the worst thing a pregnant woman can do for the pain is become sedentary. As women on bed rest can attest to, not moving these aching body parts doesn't make them ache less.

I turned to pregnant-friendly exercise. First thing doctors, books, and seasoned moms always recommend? Walking. So I walked. One thing you may not realize until you are carrying much more weight then you are used to is walking is jarring. After a walk, my feet went from tender and puffy to painful and swollen. My back went from tight and achy to spazzy and solid. Walking was out. I went back to an old familiar and started doing ballet barre exercises. I was extremely disappointed to remember just how much balance, core control, and hip strength this took. Although fully stretched and not feeling as awful after a long walk, my stomach hurt more than usual and my hips were so tender that I had to either lay down or stand; sitting was impossible. Ballet was out. I tried a slightly less orthodox approach and went biking. Even during a lazy ride, I would have a contraction. Biking was out.

I was starting to feel pretty pathetic, and hating the weight I put on. My doctor even expressed that I needed to gain more weight then I currently was. I was discouraged. I wished to be weightless.

Then something in my mind clicked. I could be weightless. I am lucky enough to live in a house with a pool in the back yard. No, the belly doesn't make me more buoyant, but as I stepped into the pool, I felt distinctly not pregnant. My hips, back, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, neck, pelvic muscles, and stomach muscles all gave a sigh of relief as the pressure my belly creates was taken off of them. I swam a lap. Easy as pie. I swam underwater. Exactly as I remembered. I walked to the steps and did a ballet barre exercise with the water to cushion. I felt strong, flexible, and light. The pool felt like a miracle.

Since this first discovery, you can find me in the pool almost every day. With my new, smoke free lungs, I am an even better swimmer then I was before I got pregnant. I stretch, swim laps above and under water, and work out my legs. I am even able to semi-effectively stretch my back. (A task found to be impossible before.) I've even begun to play and slightly roughhouse with the family.

In the water, I am as close to being able to do everything I used to before I was pregnant. (I even take a book with me to read because sitting on a step in the water feels better than sitting on the couch.) With my bikini getting more wear then my super comfortable maternity dresses, I have found my happy place.

Why I don't want you groping my belly

I used to be a very touch oriented person. I had no qualms hugging a perfect stranger, and would never consider a nonthreatening touch would be unwelcome. This changed a bit when I started to fall in love with my husband. I became more picky about who I allowed in my personal space. Still, I was not a person to become uncomfortable or uneasy with an unwanted hug until he left for boot camp.

Suddenly, I was going a week or so without being touched at all. A hug from a parent or friend would come every once in awhile, but I became used to only being touched by another person sparingly. When he got back from boot camp and we married, I remember talking to him about how uncomfortable I felt with every single person at the wedding wanting a hug. Normal, I know, but I felt like my skin was crawling half the time.

Imagine my shock when the first person grabbed my stomach without asking first. She walked up from behind me and started rubbing it lightly, ending it with a soft caress with her nails. Her eyes were bright with excitement and I felt that there was no way I felt like I could do what I wanted; tell her to get the heck off of me and leave the room. I felt down right violated, and avoided this person after this for the sole purpose of not wanting to be touched. Unfortunately, I could not avoid everyone who wanted to have special moment with my belly, and started coming up with tricks to avoid awkward situations.

For my baby shower, my aunt came up with the ingenious idea of putting a note at the bottom of the invitations. "No grabbing momma's belly, it's sensitive!" Most people were amazing and didn't mention the note nor did they touch my stomach, but a few people asked why it was so sensitive, and if they could touch it anyway. When he started moving, more people seemed to think that my stomach was public domain. I started keeping my hands over it when my pregnancy came up in conversation to stop people from grabbing it. I know how special a baby is, and I know what a treat it is to feel the baby kick or move around, but the fact remains that it is my stomach and I don't feel any more OK with some random person touching it than I did before I was pregnant.

There are times that I want to share what is happening. Sometimes he is moving so much or his leg is sticking out so far that I want someone to share it with. My mom, my aunt Miki, and my little cousin Samantha have all had their hands grabbed and plastered to my stomach so they could feel that I was feeling. A couple other people I feel so comfortable with that I don't mind if they give it a little pat as they walk by, although I am thankful that this is not a common occurrence.

Most moms will agree with me that they did not appreciate strangers coming up and grabbing her belly, but most have expressed that they had no problem with those that ask and family members touching at all. I wondered why I was so different than most, and then remember that all of these women had their husbands feel the baby kick too. A huge part of my heart aches when someone else gets the joy of feeling him kick when my husband has never felt this. I have not cut off everyone because those that I am close to get as much joy of feeling him move as I do from them feeling him move, but there is a part of my brain that screams, "Unfair!" It isn't fair that he has yet to feel Jude kick, and probably will not have a chance.

Still, knowing all of this doesn't change the fact that I hate to let people down when they want to feel Jude move around. Most of the people who I am around on a regular basis know that I don't want to be touched and don't even try, but sometimes a person asks, and I have yet to find a way to make both of us happy with a short explanation. Hopefully this little proclamation will spread the word a bit.

I guess I'm 'one of those'!

Pregnant women are known for being irrational beings. We apparently can't see reason. This has been used in movies and is usually the backbone of the best stories at baby showers. The best have to do with labor and/or contractions. For instance, my mom was 'one of those' who refused to admit she was in labor. She went for a job interview, having contractions the entire time, and then when her water broke at home, she yelled at to my dad, "I just peed myself!" Thank goodness my dad didn't buy the, "I just peed myself!" explanation and took her to the hospital, where she gave birth a couple hours later. Talk about denial!

There is the other end of the spectrum of the woman who thinks she's in labor at every twinge and rushes everyone to the hospital a few times, sure this is the time, only to be sent back home. (See: Father of the Bride 2). So even though we've read about it, heard an enormous amount of stories about it, no one really knows what labor truly feels like until it has already happened.

Last night I was having a hard time sleeping. Around 2 am I got up from my bed because I couldn't find a comfortable position to lay down. In fact, it was downright painful. In my mind, Jude was in a ball and pushing against my stomach, making everything very hard and semi painful. Sure, he would relax and it would be fine, but then he would tense right up again! I started walking around the kitchen. I considered eating, but food didn't seem appealing, especially with the way that my back was hurting. Why was my back hurting?

After about 45 minutes of pacing around, trying to get Jude to stop putting so much pressure on me and trying to relax, I decided to call my doctor and talk to an on-call nurse. The idea in itself made me feel foolish, calling at 245 am for an irritable baby and a backache, but I did. When I got her on the phone, I explained how Jude was acting like a bowling ball in my stomach. She was not the nicest lady, and seemed very irritated with my phone call. I told her that it hurt, and my back was also hurting, and that I just wanted him to relax and my back to ease up so I could go to sleep. Then I got the question:

"Sweetie, is this your first pregnancy?"

Um, yeah. Why?

"Well, it sounds like you're having contractions. How far apart are they, and how long do they last? How painful on a scale of 1-10?"

?!?!?!?!

I explained how I wasn't keeping track of what I thought was my baby being a jerk, that I didn't think they were regular, and that they hurt at about a 4. Enough to keep me awake, but I was walking and talking during the feeling with little difficulty. She told me to relax, drink some water, and to keep track. If they're 5 minutes apart and regular, go to the hospital. Thanks for calling and good luck!

And then I was alone. My friendly on-call nurse had done nothing to ease my mind or my discomfort, and I was completely freaked out. All I could think was that I was in pre-term labor and that Scott was unreachable. I called his phone anyway. Straight voicemail. I started pacing and crying, not keeping track of the contractions at all, resenting my husband for being in the army, resenting everyone else for being asleep at 3 am. I walked to my aunt's room to wake her up, and then walked back. (I hate, HATE waking people up.) I did this a couple more times until I started having another and got scared and woke her up, positive that I was in labor, hating to be alone, but wanting to make sure that even though I was crying, even though I was scared to death, and that even though I was waking her up at 3 am, that this was not a big deal.

She was great. Asked all the right questions and told me, "This is what Braxton Hicks contractions feel like as you get closer to the birth. Painful and more real, but very irregular," (and they were, as we started watching the clock) "But completely harmless. Just a practice for the real thing." She talked to me and calmed me down and gave me half a glass of wine. After an a hour, they stopped. After another 30 mins, I was ready for bed.

So I had the two extremes. The complete and utter denial of contractions and then the jumping to the conclusion that I was in labor. Glad to know that I'll be reasonable when the actual labor starts!

Distance.

I am certainly not one to say that the only correct way to have a baby is between a husband and a wife. With the right kind of resources, determination and support, I believe that a single mother can do just a great job as a more traditional family with two parents. I think that greatness comes from all kinds of families, including same sex parents, single mothers, single fathers, grandparents, adoptive parents, and of course the traditional husband and wife. What I do not believe is that a woman should go through a pregnancy alone. She should have a partner.

Unlike most of the people in my position (living with family during the pregnancy for support), I have a husband. When he is with me, he is more support than I could ever ask for. He volunteers to join me during doctor appointments, he reads baby books, and he is always willing to jump through the mood changes with a hug while I cry, share my insecurities, and take out my frustrations. He is.. incredible. Unfortunately, he has only spent 3 weeks of my pregnancy with me. Two of those weeks were the wedding and honeymoon and another week was lucky leave. He is in the US Army, airborne. He is stationed overseas and has been living in another country for the past 3 and a half months, and he is the bravest person that I know. I am proud of him, and proud to say that I am his wife.

It is quite a different experience than I thought it would be when I'm pregnant with me first child. He has no idea what Jude's clothes, furniture, and carriers even look like. We were able to share two ultrasounds together, but he has never seen me in person with my belly, nor has he seen Jude look like a human. He is missing out on a lot, on almost all of it, and I cannot imagine how difficult it is for him. He has never even felt Jude kick. To say the least, it is unfair that he is missing this. Although he never truly lets me see how difficult it is for him, I think it is the most bittersweet experience of his life. I know it is mine.

Without my family's support and my husband's phone calls, I am sure that I would be completely lost without him. To say that I miss him is to say that a fish misses water while on dry land. Before this experience, I had no idea that a person could feel this sort of desperation and need and still go on with living life. If asked beforehand, I would have said I could not survive it. With every change, every pain, every moment that I cry from frustration and fear... I wish that he could be here. In contrast, with every kick, every moment that my stomach takes the shape of a foot, and every time I hear Jude's heartbeat... I wish that he was here.

With every cloud and every struggle that we have in life, there is a silver lining. Did you know that the divorce rate for couples married in the first year of service is 80%? Hearing that statistic may have been a bit daunting at first, but now it simply lets me know that no matter how hard things get, we must persevere. And despite all odds, despite every painful moment, we have thrived. I feel as though I can honestly say that no other wife in this position has ever been more thankful for her husband. I don't take a moment that I can hear his voice for granted. Every "I love you" makes my heart flutter. Hearing him say, "You can do this," is what gets me through each week. Although I cannot speak for him, from what he has said to me I think that he feels a similar appreciation.

This is the hardest time in our lives, and a hell of a way to start a marriage. We have known struggles that many couples will never know. With all of that said, I am proud to say that with each mountain we make it over, I know how strong of a family we are. We will make it.

It's not just your belly that swells!

For quite awhile in this pregnancy, I've been told that I look "too little" and at around 6 months, people started telling me that I'm all belly. From an outsider looking in, I can see how this was true, and I certainly wasn't going to argue with them. I wasn't going to explain how my size 2 butt now is a size 5. I wasn't going to explain that my boobs may look normal compared to the belly, but that they are quickly becoming squished in my maternity bras. I'm OK with all of these changes, so I've simply smiled and said thank you.

I'm not sure why I expected to be able to stay in my pant size, to be "all belly" the entire pregnancy. I even expected to skip the swelling.

Swelling of what? You may ask if you've never gone through a full term pregnancy. Well, swelling of everything. (Called Edema: http://www.americanpregnancy.org/pregnancyhealth/pregnancyswelling.html) First, I started to notice that my wedding ring, which I'd considered getting re sized because it was too big, was leaving marks on my finger and actually hard to get off. OK, this I can deal with.

Then a few weeks ago, I went shopping. I walked around and around and I started to get a blister on my foot from some tough flip flops. I decided to use my last 30 dollar gift certificate to treat myself to some comfortable shoes. I went to the Macy's shoe department and picked out about 10 different shoes I found interesting. I grabbed them all and told the shoe attendant that I was determined to find the perfect pair of cute shoes and that I wanted all of these in a size 7 1/2. Imagine my dismay when none of them fit. A few I couldn't even get on! As I was thinking that Macy's was mean to change their shoe sizes like this, the show attendant said, "Oh my, you're going to need a bigger size with that sort of swelling!"

Excuse me?

I looked at my feet for probably the first time with clear eyes and saw that my little thin monkey toes were poofy. My foot itself was definitely bigger than it should be. Finally, I saw my ankle and almost cried. It had no definition, no structure. I did not buy shoes that day. Instead I walked out in a huff, offended by my own feet.

Of course, within a few days I knew that I needed new shoes. I bought some comfortable, breathable shoes with stretchy straps. Then I wore those outside for a few hours and was horrified with the stretchy strap marks all over my feet. That day, I made the saddest fashion decision for comfort. I decided to buy Crocs. (No offense to those who own Crocs from here on out. My personal opinion of the shoes may not coincide with your opinion, and if you love the shoes I apologize for any hurt feelings.)

Crocs are hideous. They do absolutely nothing to make a person look decent. I have never seen a foot look sexy in Crocs. Nope, they are made for comfort and convenience ONLY, and even as I was about to buy them, I balked for a moment of vanity. Then I broke every promise I've made to myself involving Crocs and spent 30 dollars on shoes that make me look like a dumbass. My feet (traitors that they are) thank me for this on a regular basis.


I'm wondering what else will grow and expand as these last couple months go on. I've already outgrown almost every piece of maternity clothing I bought when I first needed it. My face has a slight chub to it that I am not exactly loving, but mostly just ignoring. My feet are not only almost always a bit swollen now, but actually swell at different degrees. You should have heard my mother giggle as I interrupted her words as we caught up on the phone with, "What the heck?! My right foot is twice the size of my left! What is this?!!!" Just another part of the fun, apparently. One thing is certain though: I will expect the unexpected.

Due Aug 8th 2009

I started a blog about me being newly married and pregnant quite awhile ago and didn't keep up with it at all. When I decided to blog again, I considered just updating that one, but I didn't think that it fit. So much time has gone by that instead of trying to catch everyone up, I thought I'd just start again. I looked at the date and saw that I have exactly 2 months left until my scheduled due date. These last two months will be a completely different experience than anything I've gone through so far, and I hope to get any feedback/advice that anyone has to offer.

Last night, if I'm counting right, I woke up seven times. Four of those were to get up and pee, and the other three were sharp reminders to stop sleeping on my back. I purposely fall asleep on my side with a body pillow for support. It appears that I really hate that position because every time I wake up, I'm on my back. This has been a struggle since the middle of the second trimester as sleeping on back left me with little lung capacity. Apparently that wasn't enough to break the habit though because now when I wake up I am in horrible pain. When the pain starts, when my lower back starts to hurt and my muscles start to tighten, do I automatically turn over? No, my sleeping-self ignores it and I only wake up when I can feel my back seizing up over and over and it hurts to even breathe.

Last night I woke myself up twice not by the pain, but by me crying out in pain. As soon as I wake up, I get out of bed and start trying to stretch my back out to soothe it. When the pressure (that would be my belly) is off my spine, it gets better quickly, but even now I am left with reminders of last night in form of extreme soreness and an inability to stretch or crack my back at all. (Normally I can still crack the upper and very lower parts of my back.)

With that, there is also the fact that I am exhausted. There is no way that a person can get out of bed 7 times a night and be fully rested. I've gotten to the point that I can stumble to the bathroom with my eyes barely open to pee and then fall asleep pretty soon after I climb back into bed, but I'm still yawning and considering taking a nap, although my back wants me to go swimming instead.

I googled the problems sleeping that I've been having just to see if anyone had any advice other than limiting liquids before bed and sleeping on my side (I TRY!), but was just rewarded with a reminder that frequent urination, back pain, and trouble sleeping is simply a part of the pregnancy condition.

Cheers.