Sea Legs

Oh man. I love you. Thank you. I loved your comments, I loved the people who came out of the woodwork and it’s safe to say that I pretty much sobbed my way through them. Before you think I’m insane, please also understand that I cry my way through every Pampers commercial on the airwaves and almost had a tearful breakdown when I realized that the health food store might have been out of the Ethiopian chickpea stew thing that was the only thing on earth I could imagine putting to my lips for dinner tonight. (I found it, but not before pawing my way through every container on the shelf in a terrified, desperate act.)

Anyway! A few pregnancy-related housekeeping issues, so that I don’t bore you with it every second of the day. It’s just that I’ve been HOLDING IT IN FOR SO LONG. Please indulge me.

– Can I just get a bit of retroactive sympathy for the fact that I was pregnant during the maggot incident? MAGGOTS. WHILE PREGNANT. AND ILL. Hold me. Or rather, hold my hair.

– Shortly after declaring my love for Totino’s pizza rolls, I threw them up. Another one bites the dust. Our affair was brief, but torrid and lustful.

– I do plan on finding out the sex, absolutely, and will tell everyone who asks (but I won’t share the name until after h/she’s born). While I admire those who can wait, I am not one of those people. I see the merits of not, but I don’t like surprises, and as I’ve said elsewhere, that day will be packed with plenty of surprises and open-ended questions, including the age-old “Jesus fuck, will I poop on the delivery table or not?”

– I don’t sleep much anymore. Yes, yes, fine, preparation for the baby, but until the Bun actually ARRIVES, I’d like to sleep a little. I lie there like a bump on a pickle, but I can’t sleep. And of course, by the time I fall asleep, my bladder is screaming, I’m nauseated and hungry and I’m up! I’m up! BUT I AM SO TIRED. What the hell? What is this fresh horror of sleeplessness?

– This is the least dignified thing I’ve ever endured. Ever. Between actually laying my cheek on the seat of strange toilets in an effort not to pass out and crack my head on the porcelain, I have also — and I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but if I can help another pregnant woman feel less alone in her embarrassment, IT WILL BE WORTH IT — thrown up until my bladder control ceases to function. And I … I don’t even know what to say about that, other than seriously? SERIOUSLY? For the record, a preemptive pee does nothing, as my body seems to have RESERVES designed for optimum humiliation. I was one accident away from buying new underwear on vacation. Enough said. Send Depends.

– Why didn’t anyone tell me the grocery store smells SO BAD? SO BAD. SO HORRIBLY BAD. The cases of fresh meats! The seafood section! THE FIDDLEHEADS OH MY GOD THE CREEPY FIDDLEHEADS LURKING INNOCENTLY NEXT TO THE LETTUCE WTF? I’ve taken to lurching in and out of the aisles with my hand clapped over my face, wondering what culinary terrors could possibly be hiding in the shadows waiting to strike. Like those godawful sample stations where they try to get you to sample something from (shudder) Mrs. Paul’s. Those should be outlawed.

– You should see my garden. It is a mess. A HOT MESS. It’s overgrown and it looks like a jungle. It is an EYESORE. Why? Because I planted cilantro and basil. And it turns out, the smell of cilantro and basil makes me throw up, as does the smell of tomato leaves (OMFG NO NO NO GAG). I tried staying on top of it, but wound up, uh, fertilizing it one too many times, and Adam’s too busy to deal with it. RIP, garden.

– Please don’t take any of this kvetching as an indication that I am in any way ungrateful. I am thrilled to the very core, even when I’m washing my underwear out in the sink, or wondering if that Mystery Crust on my shirt could possibly be vomit (Hint: it usually is). I am. This is not about the baby, or how much I want this baby, or how freakin’ happy I am that I got here. But, in the motto of Swistle, I acknowledge my luckiness without giving up my claim to the suckiness. And I think we can all agree that includes involuntarily PEEING IN YOUR PANTS.

Happy Tuesday!

*The Shins

48 comments August 11th, 2008