13 July: OK, this isn't so fun anymore (Jen)

We're almost exactly 2 months from the due date now, and I feel like I'm really ready for this to be finished. I have heartburn and burps several times a day; my stomach constantly feels tight -- like when you've eaten way too much, are constipated, and have bad gas and there's no more room in your skin for all that it contains; I'm now wearing incontinence pads everyday because I both feel like I could pee any second and have lots of vinegar-smelling discharge which used to soak through my jeans; I have a difficult time feeling comfortable -- ever and in any position; I am ultra-sensitive to feeling warm; I am always thirsty and hungry; I sleep in one-hour increments -- between major efforts at rolling onto my other side; I get headaches daily; I need naps daily; I'm emotional enough to cry every moment, and usually end up crying a lot about once a week; I have a hard time getting up from couches and deep or soft chairs; I feel nauseous about once every other day; love-making is awkward and uncomfortable and not enjoyable for me anymore; yawning hurts both my ribs and my belly -- a real pain when trying to make my ears pop as we drive through mountain passes; I have all kinds of off-and-on-again fears about our baby dying or being born with severe weaknesses; and Sophia never seems to move when we want her to -- like for a relative -- but moves when I try to sleep or pay attention in class or am trying to adjust my seat in the car. And, we have 8 more weeks -- at least. My older sister, Janna, was born 10 days late. Lord, have mercy on me!

 

We are visiting the Amundgaard parents in Kalispell, Montana this weekend. It's usually an 11-hour drive to get here, but we stopped a few times and spent the night half-way here. There were only 2 pillows on our skinny and firm bed in the motel, so Ben gave me his pillow and used a bunch of folded-up towels as his pillow. What a beautiful man! Still, I didn't sleep well at all. And it's proven impossible for me to sleep in the car. So we've been napping a lot since we arrived -- sad, because we came here to be with family, not to just sleep! For most of today, Ben and his parents sat outside on the back patio under an umbrella, sipping wine, and enjoying great conversation. But not me -- I was too hot! I had to go inside and lay down under the ceiling fan for most of the day. Bummer! But when I got up to leave the table after lunch and told them that I'm sad that I'm so sensitive to the heat, my father-in-love said something brilliantly encouraging: "But isn't it great? Your body's working like it's supposed to!" He's right; I really would prefer that my body produce some heat as it goes about supporting Sophia's development. It's much better than the alternative: that I feel cool becuase my body is no longer trying to support our baby's growth.

 

I have mixed feelings about the stretchmarks that are appearing on both of my hips. First, I'm surprised that they're there -- I thought they were supposed to go vertically up from my pubic area toward my head. But these look as if they'll be more horizontal, from my hips toward the top of my belly button (which is still an innie -- a flat and stretched innie, but certainly not an outie). There is a way in which I'm delighted to have the marks of motherhood already on my body. I also can't imagine having enough room for my child in my belly without some major stretching going on -- it's a miracle that skin stretches that much! But I'm having a hard time saying goodbye to the Jen that I used to be. I used to be adventurous and wild. I used to live without much fear. Now, however, I don't eat deli meat, sushi, or canned tuna because it might be bad for me and my baby. Now I don't get a pedicure at a salon because there may be harmful fumes there. Now I complain about a bed that's too firm and narrow. What's become of the laid-back, hard-core, adrenaline-junkie that used to be me? Will I ever play again? Be spontaneous? Go for long road trips? Is it right to wonder about just me? Maybe I need to start thinking of me-and-Ben-and-Sophia instead... And these stretchmarks will forever identify me as one on whom another's life depends. It's an honor. And it's new and scary and just not the me that I know.

 

There's a way in which this whole experience reminds me of the day that my brother shaved my head for me. For years I'd been very curious to see what my head looked like under all that hair. And I'd been curious to experience life and relationships from the perspective of one without golden locks. In a mirror, I watched Chad shave off all of my hair and then drank a beer with him and went for a swim in the lake with him to wash it all off. But then I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror by myself. My face was completely alien to me. That was not the face I expected to see -- the forehead was too high, my ears stuck out, my eyes were at the middle of my head. I cried -- not because I thought I looked ugly or something, but because I didn't look like me. I felt like I wasn't home anymore... I actually found great comfort in studying the freckles on my hands and the cellulite on my thighs -- those things were familiar and had been "me" for so many years -- they helped me to feel "home" again. Being pregnant, though, is different. My entire body not only looks different; it feels different, with new aches and pains. Most of it looks different, too (the midwife confirmed at our our July 8th appointment that I do have edema and therefore many parts of me are slightly swollen). I smell different. I crave and detest different foods than ever before. My memory is completely suspect. I can't do things for myself anymore (like bend down to plug in my laptop, shave my legs, etc.). I talk about totally different things now, like pre-natal classes and birthing experiences. Older women smile at me and I feel profound respect for all women I see who have children (I never really noticed them beofre!). It's not just that I look like an alien now -- I've actually become one.