So I’m more than 2/3 through this whole shebang and I have some thoughts. Musings. Ramblings. Crazy person talk, if you will.
I generally have excellent self-control when it comes to food and eating. I’m an emotional eater, thus I eat when I’m happy (celebratory meal!) and eat when I’m sad (cookies will make me feel better) and everything in between. I’m fully aware of this, thus I tamp down most of my food desires.
And yet, being pregnant, I do find myself scarfing down a fourth chocolate or the last slice of pizza or an entire large burger when I usually only get the regular. Last weekend, Luffy and I treated ourselves to a big breakfast Sunday morning. We had biscuit beignets with honey and chocolate dipping sauce. I had green chili breakfast enchiladas. We shared a stack of chocolate chip pancakes. And I ate every bit of it. Was it overkill? Yeah. Did I regret it? A bit, when I was super uncomfortable for a couple of hours afterward (the eternal stretching of the third trimester). Would I do it again this weekend? Absolutely.
I actually don’t miss alcohol all that much and I truly expected to. I was very much the person who came home and poured herself a glass of wine each day. My Friday night was not complete without an alcoholic beverage and I frequently poured a glass of wine around 3pm on Sundays because why not? So I fully expected to miss alcohol, to crave and yearn for a crisp glass of champagne or a tasty Malbec. Don’t get me wrong, when we go out with friends and are around others drinking, I do wish I could partake. I sniff their glasses of whiskey and wine and my mouth salivates in response. But for the most part, once I couldn’t have it, I really haven’t given it much thought.
(And now Luffy’s laughing, remembering all the times at the grocery store that I’m like “oooooh, wine… pretty, shiny wine….”)
Ok, I’m baring all here people: I miss sex. I really, really do. Luffy and I still have sex, don’t get me wrong, but I miss the throw-me-on-the-bed-and-have-your-way-with-me sex. And I don’t mean to complain, but numerous sources told me that women report increased sensation while pregnant and I have most definitely not experienced that. In fact, I would report a decrease in sensation. I would also like to take this up with management because NOT FAIR!
I’m kind of super envious of the women who can somehow tell the difference between kicks and punches and headbutts and hiccups and rolls and somersaults. It sort of all feels the same to me. I mean, I can tell the difference between a kick and a roll, but there are ladies out there who can tell the difference between a punch and a kick! And thus they know how the baby is positioned! Craziness! Maybe it comes with experience. Or maybe Little Dumpling just moves less enthusiastically than other fetuses.
On the physical side of things:
- I can no longer get off the couch without Luffy’s help.
- Rolling over in bed requires, at a minimum, four or five grunts, several booty scootches, and far too much effort.
- My belly button is no longer in the center of my torso…. weird.
- Speaking of my belly button – it hasn’t popped out yet. As of right now, it’s just super stretched out and really shallow. Also weird.
- In a new third trimester ailment, every time I stand up, I instantly need to pee!
Getting our house ready for Little Dumpling’s arrival has been fun. I’ve really enjoyed putting together the crib and changing table. I can’t wait to organize his clothing (it’s so adorably cute and tiny!). I think I’ll really enjoy the last few months of preparation, as I arrange and prepare his room.
And lastly, I was dismayed to realize the other night that our son now officially outweighs our two-pound box of chocolates. Holy cats! That box of chocolate was heavy! And Little Dumpling weighs more than it! No wonder my back hurts.