Monday, 29 June 2009
Baby or Braxton
I know we pregnant women love to complain (hey - you try being sober for 9 months and still keep a genuine smile on your face), but I have to wonder if the baby would be complaining in these final stages too if given the chance and cerebral development to put thoughts to words.
I had recently put a comment on Becoming Sarah who happens to be due around the same time as me and is also feeling the physical drain of these last few weeks. My proposal is to wage a war against biology. Maybe create a Union, get some organized protests going, because I cannot believe that the process in which we maintain the population of our species SUCKS THIS HARD.
But then it dawned on me, that while us pregnant ladies are complaining about aching bones, night sweats, and (a new sensation for me to add to the list) the feeling that I am being anally raped with a dull instrument from the inside out by a little evil leprechaun that lives somewhere near my tailbone, that maybe the baby isn't having so much fun either.
Where as in the beginning I could feel tiny little flutters, like a goldfish happily turning somersaults in my belly, which then gradually moved on to the feeling of little tiny fists punching my bladder and the occasional horse powered kick under my ribcage, I now just feel these shifts. These uncomfortable shifts where her butt slowly migrates from one side of my belly to the other, stretching my skin and causing my stomach to tighten. They're getting to where it is difficult to distinguish her movements from the Braxton Hicks contractions, as these too cause my stomach to tighten. It's not like she's got a whole lot of room in there anymore and I can't imagine it's too much fun.
I'm sure she'll be an easy recruit in my war against biology. I might even make her Treasurer if she comes out soon enough.