This weekend I reached a turning point. I started counting down the days. Not weeks, days. I have 37 more days of being pregnant.
Give or take.
About two weeks ago, I made a rule with myself – no more maternity clothes. Then I got bigger. With 37 days left, it’s hard to justify yet another round of oversized clothing. I’ve gotten many suggestions to wear my husband clothes. NO THANK YOU! I feel frumpy enough as it is. The last thing I want to see is myself walking around – huge – in a race t-shirt from yesteryear. I can’t even stand when Chris wears those damn shirts. Do people really need to know you did Ironhorse in 2001? That race isn’t even around anymore!
But not only did I get huger (word?), it also got hotter. Really hotter. We’re talking consistent days of 90 degrees with over 90 percent humidity. This is not the zone of tolerance for E.L.F. That zone exists indoors around 72 climate-controlled degrees right now. If my husband wasn’t such a nancy, I’d crank that air down to 68. In the heat, all I want to do is walk around naked. But you don’t want to see that. Sometimes my own reflection makes me think I don’t want to see that. So, I’d settle for just wearing shorts. However, the very thought of maternity shorts is about as appealing to me as wearing a race t-shirt.
And so, I found a much better solution. The dress. Forget the maternity dress. Why pay twice as much for something that makes you feel twice as big. I bought a bunch of clothes from Old Navy with built in air conditioning. Meaning – no legs, it’s a dress! Cool breeze to the crotch which I swear exists at about 212 degrees Farenheit when you are pregnant.
NOT KIDDING, fire in the hole takes on a whole new meaning.
Despite a fabulous new wardrobe that I get to wear for a whopping 37 days before setting it on fire in my backyard, I still feel enormous and uncomfortable. You know you’re getting very very VERY pregnant when your husband is now tying your shoes for you. He’s two years older than me so I’m pretty sure one day I’ll be wiping his ass so what’s fair is fair. But still, I’d like to bend over without getting a foot into my rib or feel like I might just capsize from my own front-loaded baby weight.
I’m starting to think about life after pregnancy. It’s closer than I think. There is so much that I haven’t done for the past 8 ½ months. Knowing that I can do some of it again is like knowing that I can unwrap dozens of presents on Christmas Day. It will happen. I just have to wait until it gets here.
Chris and I went for an after dinner walk last night. When he headed out the door holding a water bottle and turning on the Garmin, I had to remind him it was an after dinner walk. We don’t need to download this one into Training Peaks. He wanted to see how fast we were going. He needs to spend some time pregnant. I’m thinking – must we confirm how slow we are going?
While blistering along at a 17:12 mile, I realized we were walking my old neighborhood standby run route. You know, the route you run in the winter when you don’t want to drive in the snow, the route you run at 5:30 in the morning when you just want to get the run done, the route you run at lunch for your easy run. That route. I’ve ran it so many times in the past 5 years that I’ve grown to hate it – it’s boring! It’s all pavement! It’s that same damn route I’ve always done!
But out there walking it, I realized I missed it. I had dozens of memories on this route that started coming back to me. The first time I ever did a BIG week of training. I remember I was one 30 minute easy run away from being done with that when the day got away from me and I had to go to a dinner for Chinese New Year. I got back home in the dark, stuffed full of egg rolls, rice and other Chinese delights, when I learned a very valuable lesson – come egg rolls, darkness or dead of winter, I will finish those 30 minutes. I almost yakked up rice but at least I hit my BIG week mark. I remember running this route one cold winter morning at 5:30 am when I learned that at 5:30 am, anyone’s backyard can (and will) become your portable bathroom. I remember hitting the turnaround point at a speedy pace once and thinking – new personal record for the neighborhood route. I WIN!
As I was walking last night, it struck me. I cannot wait to run this stupid route again.
And then more things started hitting me. An entire list of things I want to do again. Things I took for granted, things I never realized how much I enjoyed. When these things are temporarily gone or you have been doing them – for nearly 40 weeks! – you find yourself longing for them (or longing for them to go away already).
I want to eat sushi - lots. Boston rolls to be specific. I want to eat them for a week straight until my blood runs mercury.
Wine. I just want a glass of Malbec. Why? Because it’s Saturday or because it’s Sunday or because I’ve been up with a baby for 24 hours straight. There need not be a reason. Any time will be wine time. I’ll become the master of pump and dump.
I’d like to linger in the hot tub. This might be an impossibility given that I’ll barely have time to swim once baby arrives but I’d like to just sit in the hot tub without worrying about cooking my unborn child. Instead, I’ll just worry about catching staph or something yummy like that.
Running. I cannot wait to run. I don’t care if I run 17:12 miles, I just want to run again.
I want a new bike. In exchange for carrying around 30+ pounds of weight, I want to really treat myself. Fuck spa day I want a new bike. I want a Cervelo P3 with fancy new wheels. I’ve spent nearly 10 months with bike envy for every new bike that has rolled in front of my eyes in Tuesday night class and it’s my turn dammit. MY TURN!
Coffee. I drink maybe 6 ounces of real coffee a week – on Saturdays with bagels. Aside from that, I do decaf, sometimes. Lately, though, I’ve been craving real coffee again. I know I don’t need it – and trust me, after two days of laying off the coffee you feel totally normal, don’t let coffee fool you – but I just like it. I’m still undecided about whether I’ll go back to regular but I’d like the option more often.
I almost said sleeping through the night without taking a potty break but then I remember I’m having a baby who will probably be up 10 times a night taking his own potty breaks.
I want to sleep on my back. This is one of those little things you think won’t matter until you are confined to your side. As you get bigger you keep waking yourself every time you flip to the other side. My mother in law told me she got so big she had to ask her husband flip her over. You become a pancake.
I want to eat a large meal again. I just want to enjoy eating again. As you get more pregnant your stomach shrinks. Or really your uterus grows. You can’t fit that much food in your stomach. And most of it comes back up as indigestion. I’d also like to crave food again. I’m at that point where I’m sick of eating (because it doesn’t feel good anyways) and nothing sounds good except…not kidding…Power Bars. There’s something wrong when you open the pantry and the only thing that jumps out at you is a Triple Threat.
I’d like to not poop 3 times a day thank you. After week 30, I went from famine to feast in that department. That’s all I’m going to say. The only other time I can claim this amazing feat is during Ironman training.
I want to be at the gym without feeling like Sideshow Bob. Some man walked up to me the other day and said has anyone ever walked up to you and touched your belly? I gave him that look like old man if you so much as get one inch closer to my belly I will throw a medicine ball at you. I also heard that a few old biddies at the front desk were yapping about me. Did you see that pregnant girl? She was working too hard, what was she thinking? This also brings me to my next point – I’d like the rest of the world to stop thinking or telling me what they know about me while pregnant. So, you know when I’m working too hard? Funny as I was hen-pecking out emails on my iPhone on the elliptical it didn’t feel all that hard to me. Or how about people who tell me that what might be my small baby (since when is 7 pounds small!?!) is going to be small because I run too much (I haven’t run more than 2 miles in 12 weeks!). I’d like to say that I can’t wait for the unsolicited advice to stop but I know that with parenthood, it has only just begun.
How about wearing running shorts without the pocket of flub flub sticking out over the edge. This is a late pregnancy thing, I believe yet another place where your body stores fat for what lies ahead. Oh my god – is this what people mean when they talk about muffin top?
I’d like to stop peeing so much in public. I’m not saying when I bike or run – that’s expected. But when I go for an after dinner walk, I’d like to not water a tree by the office building. Or walk into a store and the first thing I look for is a bathroom.
Finally, I’d like to stop wondering what Max will look like and meet him already. It is the most exciting feeling in the world knowing that you get to meet this little person that you made. One of my friends told me she never thought she could love something as much as she loves her daughter. I can sense that already. I’m sure it will be challenging and I won’t love when he takes a green crayon and writes across our living room wall but…I’d still look at him and think – I made that mess.
(note to self, buy washable crayons)
I’m sure there are other things I’ve missed but there’s a lot more I get to look forward to. A lifetime of helping this little person become whatever he wants to be! Scary, yes! Exciting – even more so! So I’m counting down. Only 37 more days!