Friday, 27 May 2016

I Miss The Bump

Miserable hospital me, allowed out to the hospital canteen...

This time last year I was in hospital, experiencing some proper pain and some gnarly contractions.

The baby was breech.

The baby was sideways.

The baby was the right way round.

The baby was high up.

The baby was so low down the doc touched him when she examined me (ouch).

The baby was coming.

The baby was not coming.

The baby was fidgeting and causing some crazy pain.

The baby sat on his ass sideways (SIDEWAYS!!!) and probably made laughter waves on the damned monitor.

I was in hospital, on the edge for a week.

One doc told me I would have to stay there for three weeks, arranged me a side room and basically told me to hang tight.  Others promised an early c-section.  Another told me I could labour naturally; others laughed in my face.

I saw the full spectrum.

I had some lovely midwives who held my hand as I basically killed theirs when the pain got intense and I had some really awesome drugs which helped everything slow down enough for me to ride out the last few weeks.

I have never really had an 'easy' pregnancy.

I am a short little lady and I get really huge when I am pregnant.  My little body literally cannot hold any kind of capacity, thus it all tends to go out the way.

Weeks 5-13 are generally torture, as I experience waves of nausea, vomiting, and really not wanting to eat while experiencing intense hunger pangs, more often than not in the middle of the night.  I wake frequently and sweat profusely while looking quite podgy instead of 'nicely pregnant'.  I am usually exhausted and need to sleep tons, but find myself waking at 6am. It's joyful.

Weeks 14-28 are the 'grace' period.  This is my favourite pregnant time.  My skin looks great, I sleep normally (apart from the midnight snacks, which I'm happy to indulge) and I have some energy.  I'm also nicely rounded, but not so big as to have people ask horrific questions or touch me. I can still bend down to reach stuff and can wear nice maternity clothes.  Life is good.

Weeks 29+ are usually a nightmare. By week 32 I have reached peak pregnant and I am pretty much ready to be the heavily pregnant lady who takes every seat offered.  People have started saying lovely things about the size of the bump (read: rude things), but mainly because I am the size of a HOUSE and have so long still to go.  I can't reach my shoes or anything on the floor. I'm exhausted. Clothes have started to not fit. The bump has reached comedy proportions.

Week 32+ I am done.  Completely finished.  My body starts to give up pretending that it's okay with being squished from the inside out. It wants to breathe.  It would like it's organs back int he right place, please.  It begins making noises that it would like the imposter in here out now please, okay!!?  I, on the other hand, try to ignore it's awesome attempts at Braxton Hicks and crazy middle of the night peeing sessions and constant demands to be fed (in vain).  Pregnancy at this point is a full time job.  Which I believe is why they let you come off on maternity leave around this time.

It goes without saying that the last few weeks of pregnancy are hellish.  There's all the waiting.  There's the pain.  The constant trips to the bathroom to monitor any signs of 'progress'.  The constant feeding of the huge baby.  I mean, I can EAT when I am sprogged up!

We all know the awful things in pregnancy - even if it's just the small things.  We all know what can go wrong.  We all know how hard it can be, the risk it carries, the crazy things we do.  We all know it's rarely a smooth and thing without worry or stress or fear.

The day of the big C-Section! 39 weeks :)
But, today, in this moment of time, as I look at the picture of my 39 week bump - that massive solid, round thing, I can hardly believe it was possible once, let alone three times.

I'll never forget the magic of feeling the baby poke around with little hands and feet.

I'll never forget the feeling of never being alone and knowing that I was growing a wee soul inside of my body.

I'll never forget the amazing capacity that my body has to do this amazing thing, be chopped up and still be a working, functioning thing.

I very much doubt I will ever be pregnant again.  And besides, I hate being pregnant.  I like being pregnant for around 14 weeks or so, which isn't even half of the time!  I'm a terrible preggers.

But look what you get!


Not bad, eh?

“Mrs.AOK,