Mama Wants Her Body Back...Seriously!

For the last seven months I've watched as my body has been taken over by the life I'm carrying inside me. Don't get me wrong, I know both what a privilege and a blessing it is to be pregnant, but that doesn't mean I don't find myself screaming at the top of my lungs (in my head of course), "This has to stop!"

To some the transition seems gradual. And I guess on the outside it does seem that way. As my belly gets bigger, my previously slamming booty shrinks -- apparently due to gravity (my belly is pulling my butt forward, making it appear to flatten). My boobs have already ballooned to what I think is an uncomfortable size, but apparently that transition has only just begun.  My body temperature is jacked, so I'm hot all the time. My back hurts.  My legs cramp often.  And there is all sorts of activity going on in my belly at all times of the day (and night jarring me awake) as our little boy gets comfortable or plays in the space that's been his home for all this time.  All of this in the name of bringing a life into this crazy world.

Thankfully, I haven't gotten any stretch marks. Well, I haven't gotten any more. Growing up, soccer and track required me to have a lot more muscle and power in my legs that could be accommodated by my then 100 pound frame.  People keep saying that I don't look very big, well part of that is as the baby grows, he's really just filling in the beer belly I managed to get since moving out to DC and taking up residence in the sports pub every Sunday during football season. Based on that alone, I'd say he's got quite a bit of space to move around in!

Did I mention how difficult it is to do lady maintenance during this period of growth? I can barely see my toes, but I know they need work. My hair grows incessantly. I've gone from shaving every week or so, to shaving every couple of days or so.  And my bikini line?  Well I can't see that at all without a mirror. Kyle mentioned that things were getting a little out of control "down there." I wanted to scream, "Do you really think I care!?!" If it wasn't for the fact that it was hot as hell, I probably wouldn't have done anything.  But, I decided to address it and scheduled a waxing appointment. Big mistake! Waxing never bothered me before, but with this damn sensitive pregnancy skin, it was the most excruciating experience ever. If it wasn't for the fact that my waxing technician was this crazy dude with the same accent as Martin Short's character, Franck, on Father of the Bride, I can assure you I would have bolted out of there only half done. Instead I laughed through the pain...I wonder if I'll be able to channel this memory during labor?

There are a couple of good things too though - duh. My nails are growing better than they have in years. Unfortunately though, as I mentioned earlier my toenails are growing too fast for me to get them done. I suppose I could try and do them, but since I can barely reach my feet to put on my shoes, I don't know makes anyone think I'm going to try and soak, file and paint them myself.  So, we've got a bunch of foot fangs going on. I even scratched myself on the leg in my sleep. Ridiculous!  Along with my leg and underarm hair growing too fast to shave, the hair on my head is growing too. This also comes with consequences.  My premature gray hair is taking over and its all coming in gray. And with everything else I have going on, I don't have time for color touch ups. Apparently, I'm also glowing, but I think that's just from the fact that it's hot as Hades in DC (and even more humid) coupled with the fact that I'm sweating more than I even thought possible, and in places that shouldn't even rub together.  Bring on the chafing cream!

The worst though, is all the procedures. I started our recent long weekend by getting blood drawn six times in one day! Never mind I was only supposed to get it done four times for the test my doctor ordered -- really can't stand stupid lab technicians -- but I now have to bruises to prove their incompetence. And, forget about the nasty drink I had to consume in five minutes, which thankfully didn't make me sick, but I do believe I was most irritated by having to sit still for four hours.  And apparently more of this awaits me too!  But at least I don't have gestational diabetes.

I may complain, but every day I remind myself that Kyle and I are truly blessed, and in a couple of short months we will have a beautiful baby boy who won't even understand, let alone care, until he's much older what this experience has meant to us, and all my discomforts will have been long forgotten. In the meantime, I miss my body and want it back as soon as he's done "cooking."

Keep praying, we're at seven months and counting!