I wake up.
I wake up separated from my husband by a giant white pillow and I think, I need to pee. I need to pee right now.
After a near-orgasm-inducing pee, I don a goofy grin to check out my belly and breasts in the full length mirror. I prod my belly button with a creeped-out expression on my face. I check my weight. I brush my teeth with an electric toothbrush, even though I'd rather be lazy and use a regular one, because my dentist has scared me to death about dental hygiene during pregnancy. I choke down two prenatals, two cranberry pills w/D-Mannose, and a fish oil capsule. I wonder why I am so terrible at swallowing pills.
I get dressed and marvel at how much easier getting dressed is now that I'm pregnant. I don't know if it's the lack of options, the pleasure of wearing maxi dresses to work (just slip out a blazer and you're work-ready, right?), or the simple joy of having another opportunity to gaze at my tummy in today's outfit.
I eat something. I try to be healthy, but it's usually something way too heavy in carbs. I wish for a vanilla latte and settle for steamed milk with vanilla flavoring.
I walk into work and smile a secret smile when the receptionist greets me because, I'm still pregnant and she can't help but notice. I log into my computer to check emails. This takes about 7 minutes because my computer is from the Jurassic period. While it loads, I check one more day off the calendar. One more day closer.
I spend the day with my clients, discussing behavioral problems, sexual abuse, coping skills, and relaxation techniques. I field awkward questions about how I'm doing and try to act professional by not jumping into diatribes about my baby and how great he is.
I don't get much paperwork done. I spend too much time googling cribs/mobiles/nurserylighting, researching random important questions (such as, why does my ankle hurt? can I eat soft serve ice cream? how much wine can I drink while breastfeeding?) and hanging out in the bathroom. Seriously, hanging out in the bathroom is really fun. It means I can be peeing (a favorite pasttime) or standing in front of the mirror (an even more favorite pasttime).
My days are stressful. My clients have a lot of problems and they need a lot. I am always behind. I stare at the piles of files to be sorted. But you know what? Most of the time, it's okay because I have something more important to think about.
Then I drive home. I flip on the seat heater for my aching back and unhook my bra while driving. I try not to make stupid mistakes on the freeway (so far I've backed my car into the parking garage pillar and got lost twice on my daily commute). I daydream.
Then...I don't know what happens to the next few hours. I am on a current Grey's Anatomy kick in which I am re-watching every episode from Season 1 on. I eat something and wish I had the energy to cook something more exciting. Or more healthy. Sometimes we take the dog for a walk.
Then slowly, the pregnancy monster takes over my body. The one that converts me from a 5-month-pregnant-lady into an 8-month-pregnant-lady. In other words, I go from having to pee once an hour to once every fifteen minutes. My stomach seems to swell in size and get rock hard. I walk around holding it like an old lady. I get breathless. I complain a lot.
Finally, I crawl into bed. I crawl into the Giant White Vagina Pillow and prop myself up for some serious baby bonding time. I am someone that usually needs to be overstimulated at all times so as not to get bored. But not during bonding time with baby. I love feeling him move.
Let me speak to this for a minute here...movement is a funny thing. At least for me. It's exciting because...well, that's my baby! It's also reassuring because it means he's ok (is that where the term "alive and kicking comes from??"). It's also fascinating because...holy hell, there is something alive in there! And, honestly, it's kinda creepy because, again, there's something ALIVE in there!
Anyhow, after spending some time with the baby, I begin to snuggle myself into my pillow nest. I moan and groan a lot. I prop up parts of my body. I wonder how the hell I can do this when I'm 8-months-pregnant. B. comments that maybe, just possibly, I'm exaggerating?
Then I find the perfect spot. I am supported, warm and comfortable. I can breathe. I am content.
I sigh and close my eyes.
I open them. I have to pee.