We're now officially in the 3rd trimester, which so far involves some discomfort, some more discomfort, and then some discomfort to ice that there discomfort cake with. The LFM's latest party trick (and clearly, its always a party in my uterus...that's the hipster spot du jour for the umbilically attached set) is to try and remove himself Houdini style, through my right side just below my ribcage. I'm not sure what he's pushing with... a head, a butt, a chainsaw, Ann Coulter...but whatever it is, it is in no way comfortable. And this happens pretty much whenever he's awake. Its become a constant battle wherein he pushes out with mystery body part and I push back in with my hand or any available blunt metal object. He usually wins though, sad as it may be. He's also been hanging with the Beckster, clearly, because his kicks now have more power than the TGV and score a perfect goal every single time...right into my bladder. This constant assault on something that wasn't that strong to begin with has been a barrel of laughs, as you can imagine, and sometimes so painful its hard to walk. My uterus feels much much heavier, and sleeping or even lying down can be quite uncomfortable if I'm, oh say 2 degrees off from optimal body placement. And optimal body placement seems to change every 2 seconds. This makes a good night's rest the stuff of which dreams are made.
And as I write this he's mauling my insides, pushing and kicking and have a grand old time in there with the roiller derby bout of the century: the LFM vs. Synge's uterus.
WB and I have been taking the awesomest birthing classes ever, which are about to end this Sunday evening, much to our dissappointment. Because of the awkward timing of the LFM's imminent arrival, what with the holidays and such, we began the classes much earlier than most other folks (everyone else is due in November)...so now, here we are, ready and willing and excited and we have 12 1/2 weeks to go! On the one hand, that seems like an absolute eternity and on the other hand, ummm...where the hell did the 2nd trimester go? How can it already be the third trimester? I haven't even ever sent WB on a midnight run for weird cravings or gotten my share of massages! I was too busy moving and readjusting and taking care of people with cancer to rteally enjoy it all and now it feels like its sped by without me even knowing it and that makes me sad.
But not sad enough to remain this uncomfortable for that much longer.
The other thing that's occupying what precious few functioning brain cells there are that haven't been obliterated by hormones is that we don't have that much stuff. We have some, and we're getting the crib this weekend (thanks RKKS!), but there's this whole huge scary world of baby consumerism that frankly frightens me to no end. WB and I went into Babies R' Us a month ago or so, and were so scared off by that beige and pastel world of unoriginal mediocrity that we haven't ventured back since. RKKS is going to go with us this weekend and help us register for all the things we don't know we need. Like the basics. I'm truly frightened. Though I think I found the one crib set in the world that doesn't make me want to vomit, so that's a start. But my one question is, where the hell are all the primary colors people? WB and I are not pastel people, and the LFM, at least judging from his in utero personality, certainly isn't either. We want to stimulate our child, not eradicate any creativity which may be blossoming in those early months by surrounding him with bad taste and nondescript color schemes! So far the nursery walls are going to be designed by our wonderful friend and incredibly talented artist Noah, and the floor is covered by an antique Tunisian baby carpet in the most vivid of colors and design that my parents got when they first met in North Africa 39 years ago. As you can see, its not your typical nursery.
Then again, we're not your typical family are we?