I always thought that the hardest part about being pregnant would be getting fat. Actually, that’s not too bad. Because unless you eat like crap, you don’t get fat. You just get this….crazy potbelly. I keep saying, it’s like 6th grade all over again!
No, it isn’t giving up your jeans, or even losing the ability to recognize yourself in a mirror (which is FREAKY!). The hardest part for me has been the sudden invasion of my privacy.
The weekly updates I get from Babycenter.com let me know what I should expect each week, down to how big the baby is and how much he weighs (currently, he’s 8 1/2 oz. and about the size of a large tomato!). About a week ago, the update said that I should be feeling the baby move. Slight “flutters” like a butterfly, were how they described it. How cute.
The first time I felt it, I mean REALLY felt it, was that espresso binge, but that was nothing compared to what happened one of the last nights my mom and Julie were here.
HUGE KICKS. We are not talking about “flutters”. Picture Jackie Chan and Popeye, rolled into one. And now the ultrasound totally makes sense. I feel Karate hand chops into my ribs, and Samarai kicks into my hip bone. And then, there will be a feeling as though he is running on a treadmill. The “Nordic-track-of-Kelly’s-bladder”.
Apparently, that website had only interviewed small Japanese women with small asian babies growing inside them. I, however, have a Cone growing inside me. HAVE YOU SEEN JESSE’S FAMILY??? Jesse’s the small one, at a measly 6’2″. David Cone was the largest baby my mother ever remembers seeing in her entire life. My sister recently bought a bunch of 0-3 month “Dodger” onesies, and my mom advised that she return them, because, “the baby is going to START OUT bigger than that” or something. Oh dear God.
This baby kicks non-stop every time I sit down. I KID YOU NOT, in the time it took me to type that sentence, my bladder got bopped with a heel 6 times, like one of those Crocodile Chuckie Cheese games. Yesterday, I was teaching a piano lesson and there was such a sudden sharp jab I involuntarily jumped off the piano bench. Little Emma Jean was giggling…”Did Gregory kick you?? Heeeheeeheee!”. I could just picture Gregory, laughing right along with her. I, however, was not.
After the first huge kicking spree last week, where my mom, Julie and Jesse were all able to already feel the kicks from the OUTSIDE (that isn’t supposed to happen for a few more weeks, just so you all know, folks!!), I had a crying breakdown. Jesse couldn’t figure out why I was so sad.
“b-b-because!” I sobbed. “the website said that f-f-feeling your baby move for the first time is a h-h-huge life changing moment! I didn’t like it at a-a-allll!!! I’m a h-horrible mother!”
I think part of this frustration is that I’m a non-touchy type. I don’t hug people other than my family, and everyone at St. Seraphim’s knows that the “kiss of peace” better not invade my 3 foot bubble. I actually invented the “rock on” Handsign of Peace, as a way of getting out of cheek to cheek-ness. The first Orthodox church we visited in Dallas, St. Constantine and Helen, was soooo friendly that I think we were hugged and kissed by every single person in that parish. The minute we got into the parking lot, I hissed, “No one better try to touch me for AT LEAST a month.” I was feeling so mean I tried to get Jesse to run over squirrels on the drive home.
Plus, then there’s the fact that Jesse still accidentally hits me in his sleep. So there’s Jesse, hitting me in the face while Gregory is kicking all of my organs around. Great. I’m already the female punching bag. As Jesse said, it was all part of his diabolic scheme, right from the start. Befriend me, make me trust him, marry me, knock me up, all so that he and his offspring could beat on me. “I can’t believe you finally figured it out!” he said, rolling his eyes and walking away.
Whatever. I knew it. You can’t fool me.
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Becks says
You know, my experience in motherhood (so far, at least) has been almost 100% about doing things I am not comfortable with, and I think it’s a good thing because it makes me a more, how shall we say, balanced whole-souled person? All I can say is, sister, this is only the beginning. The joys of the 3rd trimester, labor and delivery, and breastfeeding await you, oh non-touchy-feely one! 🙂
Also, I’m so glad I am not the only one who has had this experience! The FIRST time I felt James kick, at about 18 weeks, it was big hard kick in the belly, NOTHING like the little flutters all the books talked about. And that was followed by karate chops to the bladder, and punches to the cervix (which really hurt a lot!). It gets even weirder near the end when the baby is big, and rolls around – James always had his little butt jamming out of the right side, and it was SO uncomfortable! I used to have to try and muscle him back to the middle so I could sleep!
As a side note, your body officially does not belong to you anymore. Just wait until you are 9 months pregnant and in labor, and random hospital people (employees? Nurses? Doctors? I hope?) just keep walking up and jamming their fingers between your legs without so much as a hello! I have never felt more like a body and less like a person than during those 4 days while everyone was trying to save my life.
Hope that didn’t scare you too much 🙂
Norm says
You have me feeling sorry for you and laughing my tail off at the same time. Just remember, by the 6th or 7th child, you’ll be used to all the kicking and karate-chopping. Jesse also told you about this part of his diabolical plan, didn’t he?
Kelly says
Yes, he did tell me. His baseball team of Cones. I say, if he wants that many, he can birth them himself, thank you very much!
Christine says
You could always get it over with faster by having multi-births…twins, triplets 🙂