Just keep swimming

It’s easy to complain about pregnancy because it’s not all TLC-editing-and-lights. I haven’t found a show that talks about the excruciating terror that is pregnancy-rib pain, because you guys? The rib pain? THE RIB PAIN! Tonight, I couldn’t even make it through an entire walk in Costco before having to plop myself down in the nearest space I could find–an empty crate between stacks of kitty litter buckets. There’s something ironic there, I’m sure, but I wasn’t equipped to make a funny commentary, I just needed to sit while my mom and Mike figured out what they were going to buy next while Nathan refused to listen to me and instead continued to holler, “NO! You’re not my friend yet!”

I don’t know what I need to do to become his friend, other than you know, the whole HAVING GIVEN BIRTH TO HIM. It’s easier to get into the Crips than it is to befriend this one! At least those homies don’t expect you to rub their backs to “feel bedder Mom-meee!” or to sing the Thomas the Train ditties on demand (“SING TO MEW-SEEECK MOMEEE!”).

There are aspects of this pregnancy that aren’t so bad at all and I shouldn’t be as Debbie Downer as I have been, although that is very difficult when I’m in the grocery store and my mother doesn’t buy all the dairy products WHILE WE ARE IN THE DAIRY AISLE and instead remembers we need cottage cheese when we are in the dark, far off regions of the meat section. Plus, she doesn’t move quickly because she has to ask the butcher if they sell salmon necks (lesson today: they are also called salmon “tips”–the more you know!).

I haven’t had any trouble landing a seat on the bus, especially since I started wearing a coat that is far too small, meaning I can only close one top button so my pregnant belly juts out. I wore a quilted 2x coat before which just made me look large, but not pregnant. Now there is no question, especially if I waddle and wince–the international sign for LET ME SIT DOWN OR I WILL BREAK MY WATER ON YOU.

Mostly women are the ones who offer me a seat, the ones who get up before I make it a few steps on board. I always say, “Thank you! That is so nice of you!” because it is a nice gesture and while I wouldn’t say I’m entitled to a seat, even at this stage of largess, I would say that I’m more entitled than dude who is taking up two seats because he has a bag NEXT to him and he’s sitting with his legs spread so wide, you can tell the seam of his jean crotch is at his knees. But when men do get up and offer their spots, I want that kind of gentility to be instilled in my sons. I want them to be the chivalrous gentlemen who spot women in need and do something about it other than stare stupidly while a pregnant woman heaves her way through a crowd.

The dreams are also a great bonus, it’s like my subconscious says every night, “Here, you had a tiring day, let me give you this gift!” Even if the dreams are not sexy ones, specifically sexy ones with Clive Owen and even more specifically, Clive Owen as my Chinese buffet date and he says, “You haven’t eaten enough darling! I want to see you walk back to the buttered shrimp!” And before I can even stammer a protest that I shouldn’t eat so much (which is something that would *only* happen in a dream), he puts his finger to my lips and I shudder! SHUDDER!

The other night I had a dream that was Avatar-level amazing. I was in the passenger seat of a car. There was a large film that stuck to the side window of a car and inside, several small fishes. It was a mobile sticker fish tank with a little slot on top where you would retrieve the fish or feed. them. When I woke up, I was so excited to tell Mike about my idea that would surely revolutionize auotmobiles and aquatics! Unfortunately, he had some reservations like, wouldn’t you kill the fish if you rolled down the window? And what about the fish? Wouldn’t they hate it being in a car? I wish I had told Xzibit instead. If this were Pimp My Ride, he would hear a dream like that, make it happen and say, “Yo Dawg, I heard you like goldfish, so I put some fish in your fish tank so you can fish while you fish!”

I think the best part of this all is that soon, so very soon, there will be a little baby that I can sniff and kiss and hold to my chest and I will swim through these brambles for now, living halfway between this chapter of my life and the next, wondering, when when when.

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  1. Oh those dreams. Why do they get so vivid during pregnancy?! At least your fish tank dream was a good one. I still remember the nightmares I would get…oh wow. Wes Craven, John Carpenter and Rob Zombie couldn’t dream up more twisted crap!
    By the way, I used to love Pimp My Ride.

  2. “I don’t know what I need to do to become his friend, other than you know, the whole HAVING GIVEN BIRTH TO HIM.” This cracks me up!

    I think Xzibit would so dig your fish idea!

  3. Pregnancy dreams are da bomb.

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