I hope you all had a wonderful Easter. I was on Facebook over the weekend it was amazing how many people got religion this weekend. I am not complaining. We don’t give Jesus enough credit for Easter. Easter bunny and eggs be damned.
Yesterday, Turtle and I watched a “Whitney” marathon. I have never been a fan of that show but hubby does not miss it. He claims it is an exact replica of our relationship….you know…normal guy marries crazy neurotic chick.
Lately all I have been doing is eat. I eat every two to three hours. And I am not gaining weight except around my middle. Before I got preggers, the smallest snack would send the needle on the scale hurtling towards oblivion. Not so anymore. I am pleased, but foraging for food all day can get daunting. Yesterday I had a big Waffle House breakfast after church around 9 a.m. then a bowl of pasta at 11:30 with a bowl of ice cream at noon, followed by a bowl of rice and stew at 2 p.m. then two cups of tea a half hour later, a few perogies an hour later then I went to bed at 4 p.m. (totally unexpected but at this point I have given up on rhyme or reason), woke up at 2 a.m. ate Haitian picklies and rice and stew, went back to bed, had two breakfast burritos at 8:30 this morning, then a tall mocha Frappuccino AND Subway sandwich for lunch. This will probably be followed by four cheese sticks before 3 p.m.
Foraging for food and sleeping is all I do. People say, ‘baby got to eat,’ I call bullshit. Baby is sucking me dry this is why I am eating like a horse and a cow. Thankfully, I have a good twenty pounds leeway until the end of this party so bring the nosh.
On another note, I have come to notice that childbirth in this country is one biiiiig deal. Back home, you get pregnant, you give birth, end of story. No major drama or production. Here, the minute you become a human incubator, everybody and their third cousin starts the drama. To be honest, procreating ain’t my favorite thing. In fact the entire thing freaks me out but nothing freaked me out more that people’s reaction. From the overly excited relatives to the intrusive colleagues. It does not make me angry because this is people’s way to saying they care about you….but I got to say, it was hard coming to terms with my own emotions with other people’s excitement getting in the way.
My sister-in-law is one of those super moms with super sweet, cute, and social kids. She sent me a text that told me to enjoy my pregnancy because it would go by so fast. Right when I was in the middle of my nausea-fatigue-ligament-pain-gas-costipation-i-want-to-kill-turtle phase. I love her to death but that was the last communication she would get from me regarding pregnancy. Some of us are not built to breed like rabbits and enjoy pregnancy. And I am not ashamed to say it. In fact, I am hell bent on staying away from those kinds of people.
I have been researching birth plans. I know, an oxymoron right? Well, I watched “The Business of Being Born” by Ricki Lake and was totally convinced the reason for my paranoia is the fear of the unknown. We all want the best but prepare for the worst so I have decided that as long as everything goes well, I will be doing natural birth. Yes. You all can start laughing now.
The first woman I told – a lady with two kids giggled and told me flat out, “don’t be a hero.” I agree. I like pain drugs. Who wants to suffer? But my research made me believe that interfering with nature has consequences. I have watched so many natural birth videos and none of these women were screaming or hollering in pain. They were in pain but they were in control and they took their time birthing their kids. I even saw one woman take a nap between contractions. No one was strapped to a bed with IVs everywhere, no one was given Pitocin to speed things up, no one was given epidurals to numb you (since Pitocin makes contractions longer and more intense), and no one was subsequently given a C-section because the baby got into trouble with all that accelerated squeezing. Childbirth in this country is scary, I tell you. It has been medicalized to ridiculousness. Hence my natural birth plan. Keep laughing. There is more.
As long as things go well, I will not be strapped to a bed. I will have no IV. I shall sit my ass in a warm tub and wait for my body to do the work. I already told Turtle, no matter how much I scream or cry, not to let me take pain meds. I got off all meds cold turkey. It would be hypocritical of me to end the whole thing with souped-up versions of what I could not have for nine months.
Keep laughing. I will need you all to cheer and clap for me when this is all over. And give me the medal of badassness too.