I seem to have hit some sort of writer’s block lately. I’ve had a recurrent headache for over a week now (it goes away for a few hours, then comes back), so I’m sure that isn’t helping me as far as being creative. It’s hard to think of something funny or interesting to write about when all I want to do is take a couple of tylenol and lie down.
Oh, and please don’t remind me that headaches are a warning sign of pre-eclampsia. I know that, but my blood pressure is fine – spectacular, even – so I don’t think that’s the problem. I think it’s just my history of headaches, only I can’t take the good drugs for fear of harming Baby Girl somehow. So instead, I suffer. Woe is me.
So, here’s a regular ol’ boring pregnancy update, because that’s about the best I can come up with:
* I am apparently now officially in my third trimester. Of course, this depends on your definition of trimesters, since one book seems to think that the third begins at 24 weeks, and others say 26 or even 28 weeks. Whatever. I’m in my 27th week, so we’re calling it my third trimester. Officially.
* Besides the headaches, I also seem to have a chronic case of runny nose, which I hear is common in pregnancy. And might I add? Annoying as all get out.
* If I seem particularly cranky, it’s probably because I’m not sleeping well. Every evening, I get a horrible case of dry mouth, so I drink a lot of water. Then I’m awake every two hours because Baby Girl seems to think that my bladder is her own personal soccer ball. I’ve tried spacing it out and drinking more water consistently throughout the day, to see if that prevents me from being so thirsty at night, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference.
I have apparently reached the phase where my feelings about pregnancy and impending-motherhood can best be summed up with the word “ambivalent.” Yes, I know that we’re going to have a pweshus widdle bay-beee, and we’ll fall in love with her the minute that she arrives in the world, but that feels like it’s ages away in the future. Like it’s some sort of nebulous dreamworld that I can’t quite reach or even see clearly.
So for now, this whole pregnancy thing just gets on my nerves. I’m tired of feeling winded every time I walk up a flight of stairs, I’m irritated that my favorite cozy winter sweaters don’t fit, I hate that it’s so difficult to squat down and pet one of the cats when they rub against my legs for attention, and I would really, really love to drink something with vodka in it.
Even things that I think I should love irritate me, like when the baby gets hiccups. I know a lot of women think it’s fantastic, and it makes them feel more connected to this little life that’s growing inside them. But to me, baby hiccups feel like involuntary eyelid twitches. They don’t hurt, but they’re impossible to ignore, and there isn’t really anything you can do about them.
Of course, the fact that I feel like telling the baby, “Enough already, chill out down there,” makes me worry that I must not be as maternal as I once thought I was. And then all of those fears about being a horrible mother creep in. Which is strange, because being a bad mother was never something that I even considered before I got pregnant. I have an awesome mom, so I figured that all I had to do was repeat what she did, and everything would be great. That seems easy enough, right?
And at the same time, I have a very dear friend who’s about to start undergoing fertility testing because she and her husband have been trying to get pregnant for quite a while with no success, and that makes me feel guilty for my little cloud of negativity. Like I should just shut up and be grateful to be pregnant at all, when so many other people would trade places with me in a heartbeat. But I also know that all of this stems from sleep-deprivation and headaches, and it will (hopefully) all pass in the next couple of weeks.
In the meantime, please accept my sincerest apologies for this and all future b*tching and moaning.