First of all, let's be clear about something: I am thoroughly enjoying this pregnancy right now, having left the dreaded first-trimester fatigue and nausea behind me. I love that my body can do this miraculous thing and bake a real-live, human baby.
THAT SAID...
WTF with the tree trunks that took over my thighs?
Why did I get an invitation to join the Society of People Who Look Like Bosc Pears? (Okay, fine, it was a pre-approved credit card offer - code for Bosc Pear Club!!!)
And I could swear that the person checking me and my friend into the pool the other day for our weekly lap swim wanted to tell my friend that they charge extra for pet whales. Or perhaps it was just that I was having trouble getting through the turnstile and so was projecting?
Oh I know, I should be thankful that I can get pregnant, what with all the women who have trouble with fertility. But let me just be selfish and self-pitying for a minute, okay?
Because I want to know how I'm supposed to sleep when I'm afraid sleeping on my back will suffocate the baby; sleeping on my side makes my neck feel like my hateful neighbor took a hay-yah! to it; and sleeping on my stomach, is, well, impossible - unless I cut a hole in my mattress and through the base of my bed. Which...well...I'm sleep-deprived, so don't put it past me to do just that to my Duxiana bed.
And to top it all off? The internal plumbing is having trouble adjusting to the new tenant, if you know what I mean.
Ah, the sweet flatulence, I mean, elegance and beauty of making babies. And you know what?
I'd do it all again. In a baby's heartbeat.
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