Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Walk It Off

We have come to that point in my pregnancy, my friends, that is the really scary part.

I am gigantic. Huge. Obscenely huge to be more precise. I would take a picture and show you, but I don't have a wide angle lens. Why would I want to do that anyway? I am miserable enough without having to actually see what everyone else is seeing. Instead, I will give you a visual that will help you picture me in my current state. On Sunday it was starting to snow on our way to church. Did anybody need an umbrella? Nope. All 4 kids managed to stay dry from the snow in the ample cover of my ridiculous belly. Yup. All 4. And nobody even complained that anybody was touching them, or that they were squished, or anything like that. I was like the lady in the Nutcracker who has all those acrobatic children under her skirt. Except the giant skirt was not created with massive hoops and the like. It's just my enormous belly which really did and does house all those children.

We are to the point that I am wearing the same thing every single day. Did you see me today? I'll be wearing the exact same outfit tomorrow! And, if I'm lucky and manage to not spill anything or have any grubby hands come up and grab me to climb into my nonexistent lap, I'll wear the same thing the next day, too. And if I do spill, it has to be on top of the mountain, not under the rim. If I can't see the spill from my perspective up here, it doesn't exist. Have I no shame, you ask? Nope. Not a bit, I answer. If it fits today, you bet I'm gonna wear it tomorrow. We are down to that.

Everything hurts. Every single thing. If I sit down for even just one minute, when I try to get up again my poor hips scream in protest. "How can you do this to us?!? AGAIN!!" they demand to know. And at this point, I am asking myself that very same question.

As I am hobbling around the house, trying to get something - ANYTHING accomplished, I hear my dad's voice in my head repeating over and over again "Walk it off! Walk it off!" He being a sports kind of person could bring that up whenever we were injured; along with a swift, warming rub, and enough kisses to soothe the hurt. So, that's what I am trying to do - walk it off. But in pregnancy, the phrase "walk it off" has a different definition. I will explain:

When I say "walk", I really mean waddle. Add in the pain in the hips and there is a shuffle with that. Does that mean I am waffling? Shuddling? Anyway, getting to the phone before the answering machine picks up is completely out of the question. You'll just have to keep encouraging me in your message, and I'll get there eventually.

When I say "it", I mean the baby, of course. Or in my case, either the giant, world record breaking, HUGE baby, or the 14 individual babies that are there. Did I mention that I am enormous right now?

When I say "off", I mean I am so done with being pregnant. This child has just got to come. I will take the contractions and all the fun stuff that goes along with labor just to be finished. Bring it.

Abigail came at 35 weeks and she turned out okay, right? Well, aside from being the queen of 9 year old attitudes and drama, she's okay. Besides, this baby is a boy. He'll do even better. Let's just try it. I'll give my doctor a call right now.

Monday, February 1, 2010

One Year Ago Today - The Superbowl

So, yeah. The Superbowl. It's a fun day for us. None of us really take the game seriously, since the Packers haven't been there in FOR-E-VER. We just use it as an excuse to eat for about 14 hours straight and watch goofy commercials. Football was a staple in our house while growing up, so another game doesn't really do anything for me. Doesn't matter if it's well played or a blowout.



But this one was more suspenseful. We knew that mom wanted to talk to us about what was going on, and just waited until she felt comfortable doing it. Then she gathered us in her room to let us in on the testing that has been going on and the results she had so far. She tells us that tomorrow she is expecting results from the chest CT, and to schedule the EKG.

I can usually remember a little bit about the Superbowls in the years following. Give me a couple of minutes and I can tell you which teams were playing, who won, and a little bit more information for a few years back. But as far as last year's stats I come up completely blank. I can't remember who played, who won, or any of the commercials. I couldn't tell you what we ate, who did the half time show, or who it was that ended up going to Disneyland. I only remember sitting on her bed and listening to her tell us what was going on. And then starting the clock ticking until we got the results the next day.