Sunday, June 10, 2012

Maybe Not the Weight Gain

There comes a time in every woman's pregnancy where she wonders exactly what the hell she was thinking when she decided it would be a good idea to have a baby. Any lady who denies this is lyin', pure and simple. And, there a good number of reasons to have at least a small spell of buyer's remorse with pregnancy. Perhaps the most prevalent cause of this state-of-mind is the very idea of how, exactly, a woman is to take a very large being from inside of her and see it outside of her, particularly when there is no exit that really seems appropriately large enough for the being to pass through. My friend, Carolyn, provided an analogy that has stuck with me for months now: it's like building a boat in your basement. Yep. Or my dad's comparison to a snake eating a pig backwards. Awesome, right? These images have stuck with me, unfortunately, and they have me sweating more than August in South Carolina.

Of course, there also comes a time in every woman's pregnancy where she's just desperate enough to look past the logistical nightmare of extracting a baby through her very small exit... When she tires of trying to tell the difference between panties that are wet with sweat or wet from an overly leaky bladder... When sneezing and squeezing no longer provides protection... When she notices that what she imagined to be a bull in heat panting is actually her own now normal breathing... When the term "It's a jungle out there" refers to what may be happening south of the old baby belly, but she's unsure because she's been unable to see "out there" for quite too long of a time... When the thought of going to sleep at night, an experience that once brought so much excitement, becomes so dreaded and uncomfortable... When the 9-month-long rehab plan becomes just too much to bear... When the idea of destroying the woman at the OB's office who takes her weight becomes a lovely fantasy... When Tums and Metamucil are all-too familiar staples in her daily dietary intake, and the thought of doing without either one is enough to set her off in a tail-spin of tears...

When it gets to this point, a woman decides that the only way out is gonna have to do. And, rather than fretting over the unimaginable pain that will come with labor...and, I might add, the weeks that follow, because, let's be real here, things don't just go back to normal; there is a tricky little healing process involving warm water and iodine in squirt bottles and an obsessive fear of bathroom...the woman decides that being pregnant has seriously run its course. Time's up for the little one who's, by now, taken to hanging posters of her favorite band inside of her mama's uterus. Real life awaits.

Real life. For Baby, whose world is no longer warm and cozy and protected. For Baby's siblings, who now have to share their worlds with yet another. For Mama. For Mama's nipples, which become inverted at the very idea of the super-fun breaking-in period when milk comes in and Baby learns to nurse. For the engorged (it's as bad as it sounds) and leaky boobies that replace the leaky bladder. For the laundry, oh my goodness the laundry, that seems completely impossible for one very small human being to create. For even less sleep. For Daddy, who better figure out how to deal with Mama as quickly as possible for the sake of everyone. Ahhhh. Yes. Real life.

But, a beautiful life. And so worth it. The buyer's remorse disappears. The fear. The wet undergarments. The jungle. The sobriety. The weight gain. The heartburn and constipation. They all become worth it in the end. Well, maybe not the weight gain, but the rest of it is worth it.

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