Dealing With It

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First, some links for you:

  • “You Should Be” by Pamie – Honestly, I haven’t experienced this much, or maybe I just ignore it better. Things I have heard: concern over massages, concern over manicures/pedicures, concern over my food choices, and one concern for a glass of wine coupled with unconcern for cigars (I drank the wine, and declined the cigar). Still, it’s a funny read.
  • My OB Said What?!? – Does what it says on the tin. I don’t have many of these either, though I have a friend who most certainly does.

We have moved to that point in the pregnancy where I am watching birth videos and ordering breast pumps. I still crack up when I see the photos of women in handsfree bras pumping at desks like LA LA LA LA I AM A WORKING WOMAN. Which reminds me: I need to get some bras that unhook so I can use one of those handsfree brastpump bras.

Birth videos…I’ll be honest, they freak me out a little. Not the laboring. The crowning. I’m staring at a lady’s baby bits and she’s pushing and I’m thinking, “There is no way that — OH GOD HOW DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?” It’s like a friggin’ Transformer or something.

And while that’s neat and all, it’s still a little unnerving.

So this is what I remind myself: one way or another, it’s going to be a hot mess.  Whether you’re cutting through layers of uterine muscle and belly fat or letting a perineum flop open, there isn’t any way to avoid it. Deal with it.

I had the same problem with the baby’s movements. I know lots of women who think it’s cool and amazing, but the first couple weeks freaked me out a little. Half of me was skeptical that I was feeling anything — the shadow of the miscarriage  again — and the other half was running around in circles inside my mental panic room shrieking because something is moving in my belly and it’s not a grilled cheese sandwich.

I would be utterly lying if I said I hadn’t had these kinds of feelings. But I also got used to them. And then I got to the other side, which was: is she moving enough?  Followed by one memorable day when it was: holy shit is she moving too much (answer: no such thing)?

So this is how I deal with it, because I know me: I stare into the void (or the vagina) (the vagoid). And I let my brain have its little freak out. And then I put on my sunglasses and deal with it.