Another mean trick is to design most maternity tops and dresses with large ties that go around the top of the belly, just under the breasts. No doubt this is supposed to be "flattering" or to help the clothing grow along with your belly. But, at this point, when sitting in any kind of chair is uncomfortable, having a large knot of fabric pressed into my back, against the back of the chair, is downright painful! The last week has seen me constantly reaching behind to move the knot away from what feels like a knot-induced bruise on my back. It's hard enough to find a comfortable position in which to sit; adding a large ball of tightly-tied fabric to the mix -- and at just the height where most of my weight is being supported by the back of a chair -- is neither smart nor kind. The shifting and sliding of my bra that happens as a result of the changing size of my breasts is enough to keep my hands constantly struggling with my upper back -- I don't need another thing to chase back there!

 

 

The other day Ben surprised me with a "wedge pillow". Wow! It's one of the best things ever invented for pregnant women. It's about a foot by a foot and shaped like a... well, a wedge. The thin edge goes under my belly (or ribs, if they're hurting more) and the thick end supports by belly. This has helped me sooo much! And it made our roadtrip much easier, as I put the thick end behind my shoulder blades and let it give my shoulders and back some support in our too-comfy seats in our car. I've had mixed results with my new body pillow (Ben's mom gave it to us -- thank you!!). Some nights it's exctly what I need, and other nights I end up pushing it off the bed. The hardest thing about it is that when I turn over to my other side (which is about once an hour), I have this big pillow between my legs and arms to turn with me, and then to reposition on the new side.

 

We saw our midwife on Thursday and she said that Sophia's head is still down (good news!) and that her body is facing my front (this will hopefully change as we near her delivery). She taught me to sit up correctly, too: when you're this big, you want to preserve the muscles on the front of the belly by not sitting up straight, but by leaning to one side and using your arms to push yourself up (I think the technical term for what I'm trying to avoid by doing this is "diastasis"). She's also concerned that I might have a slight infection in one of my kidneys (I have more swelling on my right side than my left and pain in the region of my right kidney -- which I learned is higher up in my ribcage than I ever thought it was). So I'm getting a test on Monday. We scheduled all SIX of our remaining appointments with the midwives. SIX! That's all. Wow. Then we're done. There's a very small part of me that's afraid of the pregnancy ending -- I think it's becuase I don't know what to expect and I'm afraid that I won't know how to do it well. But the rest of me is sooooo eager to have my body back, to get to know the little girl who is Ben-and-Jen, and to get to watch Ben love on his daughter. There is NO one else who I'd rather have raise my daughter.

 

 

We are visiting the Amundgaard parents in Kalispell, Montana this weekend. It's usually an 11-hour drive to get here, but we stopped a few times and spent the night half-way here. There were only 2 pillows on our skinny and firm bed in the motel, so Ben gave me his pillow and used a bunch of folded-up towels as his pillow. What a beautiful man! Still, I didn't sleep well at all. And it's proven impossible for me to sleep in the car. So we've been napping a lot since we arrived -- sad, because we came here to be with family, not to just sleep! For most of today, Ben and his parents sat outside on the back patio under an umbrella, sipping wine, and enjoying great conversation. But not me -- I was too hot! I had to go inside and lay down under the ceiling fan for most of the day. Bummer! But when I got up to leave the table after lunch and told them that I'm sad that I'm so sensitive to the heat, my father-in-love said something brilliantly encouraging: "But isn't it great? Your body's working like it's supposed to!" He's right; I really would prefer that my body produce some heat as it goes about supporting Sophia's development. It's much better than the alternative: that I feel cool becuase my body is no longer trying to support our baby's growth.

 

I have mixed feelings about the stretchmarks that are appearing on both of my hips. First, I'm surprised that they're there -- I thought they were supposed to go vertically up from my pubic area toward my head. But these look as if they'll be more horizontal, from my hips toward the top of my belly button (which is still an innie -- a flat and stretched innie, but certainly not an outie). There is a way in which I'm delighted to have the marks of motherhood already on my body. I also can't imagine having enough room for my child in my belly without some major stretching going on -- it's a miracle that skin stretches that much! But I'm having a hard time saying goodbye to the Jen that I used to be. I used to be adventurous and wild. I used to live without much fear. Now, however, I don't eat deli meat, sushi, or canned tuna because it might be bad for me and my baby. Now I don't get a pedicure at a salon because there may be harmful fumes there. Now I complain about a bed that's too firm and narrow. What's become of the laid-back, hard-core, adrenaline-junkie that used to be me? Will I ever play again? Be spontaneous? Go for long road trips? Is it right to wonder about just me? Maybe I need to start thinking of me-and-Ben-and-Sophia instead... And these stretchmarks will forever identify me as one on whom another's life depends. It's an honor. And it's new and scary and just not the me that I know.

 

There's a way in which this whole experience reminds me of the day that my brother shaved my head for me. For years I'd been very curious to see what my head looked like under all that hair. And I'd been curious to experience life and relationships from the perspective of one without golden locks. In a mirror, I watched Chad shave off all of my hair and then drank a beer with him and went for a swim in the lake with him to wash it all off. But then I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror by myself. My face was completely alien to me. That was not the face I expected to see -- the forehead was too high, my ears stuck out, my eyes were at the middle of my head. I cried -- not because I thought I looked ugly or something, but because I didn't look like me. I felt like I wasn't home anymore... I actually found great comfort in studying the freckles on my hands and the cellulite on my thighs -- those things were familiar and had been "me" for so many years -- they helped me to feel "home" again. Being pregnant, though, is different. My entire body not only looks different; it feels different, with new aches and pains. Most of it looks different, too (the midwife confirmed at our our July 8th appointment that I do have edema and therefore many parts of me are slightly swollen). I smell different. I crave and detest different foods than ever before. My memory is completely suspect. I can't do things for myself anymore (like bend down to plug in my laptop, shave my legs, etc.). I talk about totally different things now, like pre-natal classes and birthing experiences. Older women smile at me and I feel profound respect for all women I see who have children (I never really noticed them beofre!). It's not just that I look like an alien now -- I've actually become one.