I Confess... I'm Over It

You might think that I'm the picture of a happy, glowing, pregnant woman, but it's all smoke and mirrors. Last night I was up almost every hour with heartburn, congestion, hip pain, hot flashes, and the urge to just save myself the trip and pee in our bed.

 

Although it seems like an eternity, I only have about three weeks to go. So let's look on the bright side and review the reasons why I cannot wait to get this baby out of my body...

 

 

I haven't been able to breathe properly in nine months: Pregnancy gives a whole new meaning to the word congestion. And even though I've never done so in my entire life, I now snore like a drunken sailor, which I find extremely embarrassing.

 

I can't remember what my vagina looks like, I can't go more than an hour without rushing to the closest bathroom, and even then I still feel like I have to pee almost constantly. And since I can't see past my belly any more, every week when I go to the doctor and have to leave a urine sample I end up peeing all over my hand. Yuck.

 

I'm sick of feeling guilty about every medication that I put into my body, even if it's only the occasional Tylenol for an excruciating headache or Tums for unbearable heartburn. I just want to be able to feel better without worrying that I'll cause my child to grow a tail.

 

I want my energy and mobility back. My appearance and the fact that I've gained 30 pounds doesn't bother me so much, but I hate that walking just a few blocks causes panting, a cramp in my side, and aching feet. I dream of exercising, something that I generally loathe...

 

 

I miss my regular clothes, especially my shoes. In the beginning I thought I put together a pretty cute maternity wardrobe; now I want to light it on fire. Sometimes I sit in my closet and stare dreamily at my size six stilettos before resentfully shoving my swollen feet into size eight orthopedic flats.  

 

 

My boobs are way too big. I never thought I would say it, but these things are getting downright pornographic. I really took for granted those years in my early twenties when I would wear pasties at the beach. Because these huge knockers that rest on my giant belly and are too painful for my husband to touch are not any fun at all.

 

 

All my extra time is taken up by sleep. I'm a very busy person, and I have things to do. Work full time, read, blog, work out, organize, socialize. Meetings, errands, events; I could do it all in a single evening. But now my energy is zapped to the point where sleep consumes me in a matter of minutes if I dare to slow down, rest, or god forbid shut my eyes for just a moment. And I think we have about 10 weeks of our favorite television shows backed up on our DVR because I have to watch them in ten minute intervals.

 

 

I could use a drink. Or five. And I'm so desperate for a sushi roll that I dream about them...

 

 

But most importantly, I cannot wait to meet our son. I'm dying to see what he looks like. I feel like he's going to be chubby with lots of dark hair, but one never knows... I might be carrying a ginger devil child! Anything is possible...

 

So those are my Humpday Confessions: I'm over being pregnant and I don't care who knows it.

 

The countdown is on...