Monthly Archives: March 2012

-Round ligament pain! That’s a thing that’s happening now. It feels like a groin pull that lasts twenty minutes and spreads all over your abdomen. It typically happens about 1/10th of the way into my mile walk to work. Great timing, body!

-My ribs decided to start spreading a couple weeks ago. I could feel them moving. They have since stopped that nonsense. Let’s hope they don’t start up again for awhile.

-Messed up dreams! This week’s dreams mostly revolve around breastfeeding, or rather my inability to do so. My dream-breasts keep on producing things that breasts should not produce! Chocolate, lanolin, water…Yeah, I don’t know.

-I’ve reached that point in pregnancy where everything I do makes me pee a little. If we’re hanging out and you make me laugh, chances are you’re also watching me pee a little bit. In my pants.

-Bending over to put on shoes, shave my legs, or cut my toenails feels a lot like bending over a water balloon that may pop at any second. It’s slip-on shoes, hairy legs, and pedicures from here on out.

-All I want to eat is salad (spring mix, spinach, organic strawberries, goat cheese), chicken nuggets (dinosaur-shaped because I am five), and ice cream (moose tracks). I’m sorry, baby.

-My belly button is getting shallower by the week. I’m not thrilled by the idea of it popping out, but I guess it’ll do what it needs to do.

-Braxton Hicks! My uterus isn’t amused by baby’s backflips.

-My first “OMG IS MY FETUS ALIVE?!” freakout! Baby decided to take a break from kicking and flipping for an entire day last Thursday. That’s completely normal and you’re not supposed to start kick counts until 28 weeks, but that didn’t stop me from getting in a super funk that lasted two and a half days. That was a day and a half too long since baby wouldn’t stop moving the next morning. My baby must think I’m a total jerk. I spent all of Thursday afternoon and evening poking and wiggling my stomach to try and get things moving. Then I played bad music on my belly through my iPhone. Sorry, baby.

-According to the internet, my uterus is now the size of a soccer ball. Whoa.

It seems that lately, almost all of my dreams are nightmares. The odd thing about these nightmares is that they don’t affect me when I wake. Prior to pregnancy, if I had a nightmare, I’d wake up in either a weird dissociative state or would be irrationally angry at whoever wronged me in the dream (sorry, The Daddy). Now? It’s like, “WOW! That was fucked up! Thanks for working that out, brain!” and then I go on my merry way. I imagine this has something to do with working out pregnancy/life-change anxiety. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

Three recent dreams: Ok I was going to do 3 but considering the first is a three-parter, I’m doing one. ONE DREAM. I’ll do my messed up Ursa cave dream in another post.

The triple-threat WTF dream!

Part one: Deep Sea Balloon Chicken.

For reasons beyond my understanding, me and my friend Lara were in a battle with a gang of rogue make-up artists who were trying to kill us. Our childhood best friend, Kelly, was the leader of their pack (that’s totally messed up, Kelly). This battle took place miles out over the ocean, and we rode on balloons! Pro tip: balloons are not the best mode of transportation during battle.

Anyway. These crazy make-up artist bitches (sorry, Kelly) were ganging up on our sad little team of two, spraying make-up and perfume in our eyes and trying to stab our balloons with their make-up brushes. We fought long and hard and managed to send several of them plummeting into the water below. For some reason, these were mostly ladies from the MAC counter. The Clarins counter girls fought dirty and nearly had us both down. The last thing I remember was me and Lara retreating to our safe boat to add more balloons and tend to our wounds. As comical as this dream was, it was terrifying. Then we fade out to…

Part two: Bad Bridesmaid

This one was short. Kelly decided she wasn’t happy with her wedding that happened in real-life last Spring. She wanted a do-over, and we all happily obliged. We had a wedding procession that traveled from the reception site to the ceremony site on foot, a mile away. A half-mile in, I decided that I NEEDED wedding cake so I ditched the procession and hauled ass back to the reception hall. I pretended that the bride had sent me back for quality control purposes and I ate SO MANY PIECES OF CAKE. So many. I then ran back to the procession, hair falling down, dress disheveled, and cake all over my face. I didn’t arrive until after the ceremony had started Oops. As Kelly glared at me, we fade out to…

Part three: Rachel Maddow..?

Yeah. Rachel Maddow. Only in dreamland, I was Rachel Maddow. I was minding my business, walking home from the grocery store, when I came across a bridge that I had to cross. It was full of scary bad-ass dudes who were fighting in the middle of a ring of trashcan fires. I decided to cross by climbing over rocks that bordered each side of the bridge. I was about a third of the way over when a man popped up from between two rocks, held a knife to my face, and demanded my bags and all of my money.

I briefly considered my alternatives – retreating over the rocks would be too precarious and I’d end up hurt, killed by the crazy guy, or I’d fall down the cliff a couple of feet over from the rocks. Giving him my stuff wasn’t an option – in dreamland, Rachel Maddow is a badass and would not stand for that nonsense. The last option? Fight back! I (err, Rachel?) pretended to be reaching into my pocket for my wallet but instead, I quickly reached over and knocked the knife out of his hands. Then I grabbed the knife from between two rocks, stabbed the guy in the chest, and shoved him off of the cliff. Safe!

Now instead of having a normal-people reaction and calling the cops, fleeing, or sitting there in a traumatized puddle of blubbery tears, I magically summoned a film crew to film the guy as he plummeted to his death below. While filming the fall, I was LAUGHING and mocking the guy, saying “bye-bye!” and waving obnoxiously. What…? Dreamland Rachel Maddow/me is a crazy bitch, apparently.

Yeah. So. That’s pregnancy brain for you. More dreams coming up soon.

I was told multiple time that because I’m a bigger girl and have an anterior placenta* that I wouldn’t feel the baby kick until around 22 -24 weeks and might not feel kicks from the outside until the very end. I’m 22 weeks now (22 weeks and 3 days, to be exact!) and have been feeling baby move for over a month! On Thursday, I felt baby kick from the outside. Go baby, go!

*An anterior placenta means my placenta is in the front of my uterus instead of in the back. That means it acts as a nice cushion in the front making baby harder to feel, my stomach stick out further, and back pain is more severe. This baby better be cute.

I’ll save you guys some trouble. The answer to “What are you having?” is “Hopefully a pony.” and the answer to “What are you naming it?” is “Spandex Amadeus Orpendorph.” These answers will not change until June/July.

Also, this line of questioning won’t trick me into telling you things:

Person: What are you having!
Me: A baby!
Person: Haha, no really! What is it?
Me: We’re not sharing that yet.
Person: Oh! Well, what are you naming it?!