Oh yeah, I have a blog!

Sorry its been a few days since I've been around. I have only a few readers and I'd like to keep them entertained enough to come back and read me so I guess I have to actually give them something to read.

I've been thru false labor now, which makes me totally feel sympathy for anyone who ever felt they were in labor and then were sent home without giving birth. Monday morning I woke up at 3am with contractions that took my breath away and were coming every 10 minutes. So after about 3 hours of that, I called the OB floor and they said to come in so they could check me. So I woke up everyone and we went in to the hospital a little before 8am. I finally got hooked up to the monitor and my cervix checked and found out I was still at 3cm. I had been checked at my last 2 NST appointments and was at 3cm then too and was 50% effaced. So they kept me on the monitor until 11am and checked me again and since my contractions were not making my cervix open anymore, they sent me home. So I have another appointment tomorrow and my contractions have pretty much gone down. I have maybe one an hour so I guess I am still pregnant until baby decides to come out.

I have decided that I don't play the pregnancy card enough. We went to watch the fireworks last night and parked really far from the stadium and then when we were leaving, these girls just kinda pushed in front of me like it didn't matter that I was pregnant. I dont know about the rest of society, but when I see a pregnant lady, I let her park closer or go before me in line or sit down first or hold the door for her. Whatever makes things easier for her. But I dont think I have received the same treatment from anyone except the people at the doctor's office and my family. I really wanted to get all hormonal on the girls at the stadium last night. One almost stepped right on my foot and I got ran into by the guy behind me because I had to halt in order to not get hit by the rude girls. They didnt say excuse me or anything. I just really hate people like that. I wanted to be like, Hey watch out, I'm really pregnant here and you need to get out of my way!

I heard once that a woman pled not guilty to murdering a guy and won because she was hormonal at the time. I dont know if that meant she was pregnant or just mensturating, but I use that line as much as possible when people tick me off while I'm pregnant.

I dont think that there is anyone who would win an argument with me over why a pregnant woman deserves special/polite treatment. When else in life do you get the chance to have your nearest and dearest dance to your tune and attend to your every need? Why would a pregnant woman deserve this above average treatment? Well let's just think about the agonies of pregnancy for a moment…

Starting at the bottom, we begin with the toes. Tending to toenails becomes one of life's greatest challenges in late pregnancy. When trying to maneuver yourself into a position that allows you to comfortably paint your toenails, you will produce some interesting, primal grunts and you may even pull a muscle. You might ask your loving partner's help to get your tootsies looking good - but remember, he's probably more used to painting the kitchen walls with an eight-inch paintbrush, so the chances of him doing the job to your satisfaction are not good. Do the sensible thing - book a pedicure or bribe your best girlfriend...Although you shouldnt have to...

We now move on to the ankles. Or perhaps I should say the cankles (calves merged with ankles). They arent a pretty site. On the off chance that I catch a glimpse of them around my huge belly, I usually get depressed that they arent there and then more depressed at my swollen sausagelike toes.

Onwards and upwards and apologies in advance for the next topic of discussion - it's the bikini line. As with the ankles, you won't actually see your bikini line for a good four or so months. Do you see where I'm going with this, girls? If you can't see it, then how are you going to keep it tidy? You may be the type of girl who is happy to let her lady-garden run free, or you may feel that you want to tame the area in preparation for the world and his dog (that's what it feels like at the time) to have a look. After the birth and subsequent stitches of child number one, I was so used to people checking my bits that I would automatically 'assume the position' for anyone who looked even remotely medically trained - You dont want it to look like a bat could fly out of the bushes. So the question remains - how best to keep things trim? Shaving is a VERY risky option, as it can only be achieved with the use of a skilled, steady hand and a mirror. While you will probably A) give yourself a minor flesh wound, B) give your midwife a good laugh and C) earn points for Creative Design in the Pubic Area, it's unlikely you'll do a top job. Your partner could help you - but are you really going to let him loose down there with a razor? If you have unlimited money, the best way to go is waxing - 'Aaarrggh, too painful,' I hear you scream. Sister, you're gonna have a baby. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it's too late to worry about the pain, so you might as well break yourself in easily and get waxed. I havent found a hair remover cream that cuts thru the thickness of even the edge of the mess, so I dont even want to tell you about my own personal choice.

Shaving your legs is also quite the workout. So I found that a big bottle of hair remover is the easiest option. Its much easier to slather on some lotion than to slather on shave gel and then guide a sharp razor on every surface of your legs. Its difficult to reach your calves and bending and stretching produces those grunting sounds again. So unless you want to look like a guy, or you can afford the waxing, Nair for short shorts!

One of the most alarming things I've noticed is that I'm becoming almost indistinguishable from my 79-year-old granny. It's scary - we both wear clothes with elasticated waists (admittedly, not from the same shop), we can't get out of cars without the help of a tow truck and we both have a very snazzy waddle in place of graceful walking (mine is blamed on my expanding girth and hips, while Granny's waddle is due to arthritis).

Unfortunately, I haven't developed her ability to bake, but we can spend leisurely afternoons comparing ankle size and berating those who refuse to give up seats on buses for us.

So while pregnant women are busy creating the miracle of life, they also have all these unspoken issues to contend with. I tell you, it ain't easy - in fact, I think it's time to rub my bump tenderly with a pained expression on my face and wait for my family to bring me some tea…