5/2/2011 - Jesus Saves and Other Good Stories

I've been getting Braxton Hicks contractions like a motherfucker lately. If you're not sure what they are, they've been described in books as "practice contractions". So, they aren't really PAINFUL, per se. Just uncomfortable. Your stomach (which, in fact, is your uterus. I'm just giving you a focal point) starts to tighten up like a charlie horse and then holds on for about 30 seconds. My BHC's kind of "roll" down my belly from the top to the bottom and then hold on for dear life. At first I thought it was this baby doing some sort of wacky shit in there, but later discovered it was not. I am now getting anywhere from 2-5 a day. I said to our birthing class teacher (more on that kook later) "If this is what a contraction is like, I'm not going to have any problems!". She looked sympathetic and said "Oh, honey. I hate to tell you..." I get it. I get it.
People have been staring at me in my enlarged state for a few weeks now. Which is fine. I did/do it too. It's not like you see a big ol' pregnant woman everywhere you go and there's just something...interesting about it all. You need to stare. When I notice these people, I never make eye contact. I figure it's just better to let them take it all in and think they're being sly than to catch them and make them feel stupid. Or worse, have them strike up some nonsense conversation with me about their own child birthing experiences. No thanks.
Anyway, I was walking the dog the other day and crossed the street at the stop sign. I noticed the guy to my left didn't proceed forward after I had cleared the crosswalk.
"Let him stare" I thought, and stuck 'er out a little more. He began to roll forward and then slammed on his brakes. His window was rolled all the way down and he stretched the top half of his body through the opening.
"Oh!! Oh!! JESUS SAVES!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hmmmm.
I looked over at him. No sense ignoring that. And sure, he was a couple ticks shy of completely loony. Late model car with plenty of dings and rust, an even amount of teeth in his mouth and hair on his head (like, 9), threadbare shirt. And I stood there for a moment pondering if he perhaps thought me the Virgin Mary. Listen, I know that sounds ridiculous but you weren't there. You didn't hear his tone. It was as if he had witnessed a miracle. And, because I love working with crazy, I lifted my hand in a slightly rounded royal wave and bowed my head to him, pleased to have made his day. He laughed a crazy cackle and sped on, happy as a clam.
Don't ask me.
My mother recently told me that she didn't want to read this blog anymore if I wasn't going to put "some good things about pregnancy up there, too". Which is totally ridiculous for a blog that is named Pregnancy BLOWS, but I did think of something positive so this is for her (she's not reading anyway).
All of a sudden, I am getting the royal treatment everywhere! The other day I was standing in line for the bathroom and the woman in front said "Oh my gosh, ladies, let her go first. We all know how THAT feels." I was texting at the time so I had no idea she was talking to me until the woman in front of me grabbed my arm and ushered me to the next available stall.
At Target, I was standing in line with about 100 items in my cart. The man in front of me who, I shit you not, had THREE items (storage bin, white sport socks, Trident spearmint) said "Oh, why don't you go ahead!" (I declined the offer).
At the gym a few weeks back I was taking a few large plates off the leg press machine I wanted to use and guy stopped his workout mid-rep and flew over to the machine "Let me get that for you!"
Huh? It's crazy.
But pretty positive, huh mom?
Mom?
Now, the birthing class. We have 3, 3-hour classes to take in order to learn how to push or whatever they want you to learn. The teacher is a total whack-a-do. Sweet Husband, who never says anything negative about anything leaned over after 20 minutes and said "She's a NUT!" I smiled "You love her, don't you?" I nodded. She's kind of nature mother-y. Says stuff like "You are all HOT mamas!" and "You will never be more powerful than when you have a LIFE *pause for dramatic effect* INSIDE....OF...A LIFE!" Then she'll purse her lips like she's about to kiss you, eyes wide, and stare at each of us for a second or two. Super weird. How can you not love that?
We don't go back for another two weeks, but BELIEVE that I will be writing more on her. She's got material coming out her nose!
And now, on to the belly pictures!!

Whew that's nasty! My ribs and hip bones are still hanging on for dear life. With a mere 8 weeks to go, I'm afraid they may soon lose the battle.
I've also finally developed the dark line down my stomach, as you can see in exhibit 2. Except mine isn't symmetrical on the top and the bottom, which drives me NUTS!!
When I was a little kid my mom used to French braid my hair. Once she had finished I had to "check" it. This meant I put the heel of my little hands on the top of my ears and place my palms flat to my head. If the braid didn't hit both my middle fingers at the exact point on each side, I'd freak out and she'd have to do it over. She quickly became a PRO at symmetry. This I never outgrew. So just imagine what this does to me every day.
*sigh*
My doctor, whom I adore, has encouraged me to keep a list of questions handy on my iPhone so that I might ask her (and not forget) every time I see her. I like to get creative with my lists and then read them aloud as if they were some sort of essay topic assignment. On this week's list;
Beef Curtains, Will They Ever Return To Normal?
Hospital Outfits, Really?
Poontang Hair During Delivery, How Much Is Too Much?
Nudity, Is It Really Necessary?
and last but not least;
Placenta, May I Take A Picture?

Answers on my next post!