Belly Madness!

Only a month to go! Pregnancy 2 is in the home stretch. The pelvic pressure is increasing. I was assessed by midwives the other day and they felt my son's positioning, noting indubitably that the scene of my distress was where my little one's head was. He is apparently in a great position for labour. That's great news, but he needs to simmer for a little while longer. In the meantime, aside from the tired feet, constant peeing and my son's propensity to forcefully kick and punch me as he tries to get into a more comfortable position as his previously capacious home becomes increasingly smaller (or in real estate parlance "cosy"), I'm also enjoying connecting with him.

I am constantly being asked by strangers when my due date was and other comments about my belly's increasing conquest of its surrounding space, attendant with what they must perceive as gesticulations sympatico, with their arms protruding out into a makeshift belly. While I just smile politely and go about my business, I am wondering when my emaciated smile in response to ceaseless comments regarding me being "about to pop" will contort into a grimace as I reveal my displeasure with some acerbic reply.

Admittedly, my belly, both the first time and this time, protrudes more than most. This isn't really a surprise. I am only 5' 2'' ( OK a little less, I'm 157.5 cm - and that half centimetre is all leg...). On top of that have a short torso for my body, so there's nowhere else for the baby to go but out. You may have noticed that the taller the woman, the less belly protrusion. I'm not sure why fundal height is recorded, but both OBs and midwives measure fundal height (the height from the pelvic bone to the top of the uterus) as a measure of gestational growth. You should measure in centrimetres according to your week of pregnancy so that by week 40 (if you get there), you would measure 40 cms. So for us short girls, we get the short end of the stick - to measure 40 cm, our belly has nowhere to go but out. I wonder whether that leads us to have more back pain etc but in the end I guess it doesn't matter - it is what it is.

As my belly conquers surrounding space, it's also conquering my brain power - when off work, it shuts off so much that I believe it's basking under the sun with a marg in hand somewhere in the Seychelles. Lucky bastard. Meanwhile, in its absence, I am left with buying milk and then leaving it in the bag for the entire night and wasting it and leaving my keys continually in the front door to aid any stranger that may want to enter. This weekend, at my godson's second birthday, I made a mistake par exemplum of my current circumstance. I was perplexed, considering his name starts with L and his surname with C, why his birthday balloon was an "S" - after a while, I voiced my confusion to stunned silence and a reply that it was a "2". Yes, a balloon designating the number of years being celebrated makes much more sense that even a balloon of the first letter of his name (and I realized also, my cheeks blushing incarnadine in increasing shame that "S" could also stand for "second") least it provided some entertainment for everyone else present...


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