I’m So Excited…
Wednesday, November 4th, 2009By Glinda
You guys, I just bought this new, super-cool cradle for my soon-to-be-arriving daughter. I happen to think it is just perfect!
You love it too, right?
You guys, I just bought this new, super-cool cradle for my soon-to-be-arriving daughter. I happen to think it is just perfect!
You love it too, right?
And you know, as I wrote that title, I discovered that I hate the term “baby bump.”
In last week’s poll, I asked what you thought about the fertility industry and if it needed to be better regulated, and sixty-six percent of you agreed. A rather large percentage, almost thirty, decided that you were undecided. I happen to think after seeing cases such as Octomom and the article I linked to where a woman was implanted with someone else’s embryo, make a fairly clear case for more oversight.
Today, a groundbreaking study asked the question “Why don’t pregnant women tip over?” Go here for the answer to this question that I’m sure has been plauging all of you for years.
All right, so Julie Chen is due in less than three weeks.
And for some reason, people have the nerve to criticize what she wore on the Big Brother series finale.
I admit, it isn’t exactly the most flattering look ever, but when a woman’s due date is just around the corner, I advocate that she can wear whatever she damn pleases!
Try talking to me about “fashion” when my vagina stops feeling as if it’s going to fall out whenever I stand up! The last month of pregnancy can be very, very uncomfortable for some women. And if being able to function means wearing a glorified silk Snuggie, then so be it!
As far as I’m concerned, her hair and makeup are done, and she is even wearing a nice necklace, so she’s way ahead of the game already!
It’s not like Heidi Klum is doing any better!
No, I’m not talking about wearing the same dress. Nosirree, this one is waaaay worse than that. I’m not even going to count something like sleeping with someone else’s spouse as a faux pas, that’s practically a crime.
I’m talking about asking a woman if she’s pregnant. And then finding out she isn’t.
I made this mistake once. It took only once, with the withering glare of hatred directed my well-intentioned way, to cure me of ever even thinking of posing that question again.
I remember it all very clearly. I was at a salon getting my hair done, and one of the stylist’s daughters came in with two of her kids. She was very thin, except for a belly that protruded out much like a small basketball. She looked exactly like I have seen so many of my very thin pregnant women friends look, and so I stupidly airily asked her mother when she was due.
I’m not kidding when I swear I saw lightining bolts come ouf of her mom’s eyes.
“She’s not pregnant!” she snapped. I wanted to suddenly have all my hair covering my face a la Thing, but unfortunately it was pulled up in foils. I had entered dangerous territory and there was nowhere to hide.
“Oh, uh, sorry!” I stuttered. “She’s just so trim except for the…” I weakly trailed off. The situation was dire, and there was no way to save it. I was toast. She knew it and I knew it. Luckily, I didn’t like that salon very much, and never went back to face the source of my shame. I know, I know, I’m a big coward.
Now being seven months pregnant, I can see other women looking at my tummy quizzically. Is she or isn’t she? She looks like she might be…
But I know that no one is going to ask. They all know better.
If you have ever been pregnant, you know that months 6-9 are the toughest, physically speaking. This is when your protruding belly causes you to start literally waddling, you are unfortunately on the recieving end of progressively harder kicks to your bladder and ribs, and the sleeping!
Let’s talk about the sleeping, or more specifically, the lack thereof. Not only do you have to get up and go to the bathroom approximately four times a night, your growing belly prohibits you from sleeping comfortably. Back pain and hip pain are all too common.
So in its wisdom, the pregnancy industrial complex has devised all manner of pillows that purport to deliver you into the land of slumber, stat.
In my bleary-eyed misery, I was perusing some websites for a suitable pregnancy pillow that would alleviate my problems. I have experience with the wedge pillows, and also with the longer pillows which fit under both your belly and between your knees.
But things have changed since my last pregnancy, and I was confronted with this:
Whoa! I’m guessing this is for women who are secretly annoyed at their husbands, because there is no way your hubby is going to fit with that huge thing in the bed. Screw spooning!
Maybe I should just get myself one of these. It’s fairly similar, probably cheaper, and I can at least use it later!