39 Weeks Pregnant: My Brain is Broken

First things first, happy holidays, yall! I cannot believe it’s almost 2019. In January Francesco and I will have been together for TEN glorious (and sometimes challenging years). Oliver will turn nine and become the grumpy old poodle he was meant to be and we’ll have a baby to take care of. My book is done and I’m finishing up a series of digital prints and am finally (though slowly) diving back into my artwork. I’m so looking forward to this new year. It’s going to be exciting and new and probably pretty awesome and challenging. What are yall looking forward to? What’s new for 2019?

In baby news, I’m 39 weeks pregnant and it feels like someone has plucked my brain out of my skull and I’m just wandering around with my head up my ass. I can’t remember what I’m doing from minute to minute. Today, I spent thirty minutes looking for my phone WHILE HOLDING IT, and I actually forgot that I have a job for most of the day (thank the universe I’m already working from home). Other symptoms: My hips feel like someone has jammed hot fire pokers into the joints, I’m so tired I keep falling asleep while sitting up, there’s a lot of crying happening, and the only pair of shoes that fit me are my Doc Martens because my feet are comically swollen. It’s so hot. Needless to say, I’d really like this baby to get out and apparently the last few weeks of pregnancy are when women stop being like, “awe I’m pregnant,” and instead turn into your evil landlord from college. I’m like, GET OUT! YOU PARTY TOO HARD AND HAVE OVERSTAYED YOUR WELCOME AND I TOLD YOU NO KETEL ONE BOTTLES IN THE GREEN GARBAGE CAN!

The nice thing about this stage of pregnancy is people become very nice. Strangers pick things up for me and old couples smile lovingly at me in the grocery store and the appliance delivery man left with a cheerful, “congratulations!” today. It’s a weird thing because growing up with brothers who thought of me as  “one of the guys,” a dad who used to make me move stuff instead of the boys because “she’s built like a bull” and a group of male friends who have said things like, “if we have to fight these guys, you take that one.” Because why wouldn’t I go into battle with them and clobber the giant one when I’m a whopping 5’6″? I’ve never been given different treatment for being female from anyone close to me. Not even from my husband who literally says things like, “why should I be worried something might happen to you while walking in the dark? Dude, if someone attacked you, I’d genuinely be more worried about what you’d do to them.” No joke. So all of this is new and fascinating and I feel like I’m vacationing in someone else’s life experience. 

On the downside, I feel the most vulnerable I have ever felt in my life and I really don’t like it. If a homicidal elderly person in a jazzy with an oversized oxygen tank wanted to run me down for whatever reason I’d be road kill. If I get into a vertical position, I’m like a trapped turtle. And I can’t tie my own shoes or shave my legs so my husband has to do it and let me tell you, I don’t know how he hasn’t maimed himself while shaving his face because he’s not very good with a razor. For anyone thinking about getting pregnant who hates body hair: Get laser hair removal first! It’s actually scary to feel so delicate. Luckily, our infant should slide into the world any day now. Any. Day. Now. Right?

The anticipation is unbearable. We were only two weeks along when we found out we were pregnant so it feels like we’ve been waiting for decades to meet this little one. Every hour of every day feels like Christmas eve when you’re ten and can’t sleep because you’re dying to see what Santa brought you. Only, in this case, we’re excited to see what our DNA has gifted us. Will the baby have dark hair or light hair? Blue eyes like his grandparents, hazel like mine, or brown like Francesco’s? Can we expect a calm bundle or a precocious party animal who hates to sleep? Who is this little person who has been sharing my body and taking over my mind? The days are really dragging on. It doesn’t help that I’m absolutely exhausted and super emotional so I’ve been spending way too much time in bed ugly crying while watching Rom Coms. Crying at a computer screen really makes the minutes last for an eternity.

Friends and strangers alike have offered ideas on how to naturally induce labor. Some I’ve tried (speed walking), some I haven’t (having clumsy sex while shaped like a blueberry).

So far, hot tips for inducing labor include: 

  • Speed walk around the neighborhood
  • Have sex/masturbate
  • Bounce on a ball
  • Drink Castor oil
  • Wait until the full-moon (all of the full-moon people are Italian)
  • Eat spicy food
  • Get a specific bath bomb from Lush
  • Scream, “go towards the light!” at my stomach  (this is my preferred method)
  • Just pig out on ice cream and beg the universe to get things going

What am I missing? Give me ALL OF YOUR IDEAS on how to encourage this kiddo to finally make an exit in the comments below.

2 thoughts on “39 Weeks Pregnant: My Brain is Broken

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