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I love it when chickadees gather up Dog's fur for their nests - doesn't it look like he has a big white moustache?


Tuesday, May 17, 2005

May. FUCKING. Showers.



Also - you think I could sell this on eBay? "It just....appeared! After I made some fish tacos!"


As far as my general health is going, I feel like it's been a great pregnancy so far. There was little morning sickness to complain of, no gestational diabetes or blood pressure problems to date, and the headaches that bugged me a while back seem to have subsided. I am one of the lucky ones, and I know this.

And yet, I can still bitch about the little things. Come on, this is an online journal - just be glad I don't have an animated graphic pasted on this page that says "I'M FEELING: CONSTIPATED", okay?

In pregnancy, there is a large increase in blood volume. Beginning in the first trimester, the mother's blood volume increases to approximately 50 percent more than before pregnancy.

My pulse can easily and accurately be taken on any surface of my body, including my toenails. My hair follicles are throbbing with my loud-ass heartbeat. If it's quiet, that whooshing sound you hear is me, the human bilge pump. I sometimes think I can actually see the veins behind my eyeballs pulsing away.

78 percent of women have insomnia and other sleep problems during pregnancy.

I am plagued, PLAGUED I TELL YOU, by the Jimmy Leg. I'll get into bed, read for an hour or so, get so sleepy I can hardly find the energy to reach over and turn off the light - and as soon as I'm plunged into darkness, here comes the fucking JIMMY LEG.

If you are not familiar with the Jimmy Leg, let me describe it: it's like your foot has not been informed that it's 11:59 PM and suddenly starts jiggling up and down to its own special techno beat. The left foot, feeling jealous of the right foot's newfound dance skills, joins in, until your entire lower body is drumming a hole into the mattress and your husband tells you to cut it out for crying out loud.

I think this is just a by-product of some general nighttime discomfort; I desperately miss sleeping directly on my stomach, and I'm usually getting up every five seconds or so to to pee. Maybe my frustration is channeling downward until I'm turning our bed into a Motel 6 Magic Fingers experience. At any rate, I'm sorry JB has to share the joy, because there's another problem....

Congestion is one of the ‘common complaints of pregnancy’. Some believe it to be due to the effects of progesterone, which makes the membranes softer and more vascular.

It surely does not help that I've come down with two colds over the last few weeks, but BY NODE! BY NODE DODE NOD WORK EDDYBORE. I've tried saline rinses, steamy showers, and virginal sacrifices - the only thing that gives me any relief is Afrin, and I'm paranoid of using that too often. I've actually caused JB to pack up a blanket and spend the night on the living room couch, because of the ceiling-rattling snores blaring out of my gaping mouth.

I snort and wheeze and gasp like an asthmatic pug, and my tongue constantly feels like a strip of buffalo jerky. Oh, this is the sexiest I've ever felt!

Your need for oxygen increases during pregnancy, but your uterus expands, restricting the amount of oxygen you can take in with each breath.

I sound like Snuffleupagus when I'm sitting still - man, you should just hear me climbing a flight of stairs. Or, well, maybe not. It would probably be best for our relationship if you didn't, now that I think about it.

Higher progesterone levels cause your gums to react more to the bacteria in plaque. That, along with an increased blood supply to your mouth, can result in swollen, tender gums that bleed when you floss or brush.

They aren't bothering me this week, but on our vacation my gums were massively puffed up and irritated, like I'd beavered my way through several bags of salt and vinegar chips then chased them down with some Cap'n Crunch (which I had NOT, but now that I think about that combo I'm thinking mmmm, taste sensation). I brushed my teeth one night and spat the equivalent of a large Red Cross donation in the sink. Once again: SEXY!

While I'd rather have the fabled glowing skin, lustrous hair, and strong fingernails, I guess I can put up with being a snorting, puffy-gummed, swollen ticklike blood balloon. As much as this is going to make you throw up in your mouth, just a little, it really is so completely overshadowed by feeling a kick in my belly, or even looking at the incredibly hideous and retarded AC/DC onesie (it says "for those about to rock", and there's a cradle on it - oh yeah) JB bought online. Even the ugly changes - brown five-foot wide nipples, anyone? - are sort of awesome, in their own way.


A while back, someone mentioned the term "testosterone displacement activity" in my comments - the theory being that some husbands plunge into various masculine pursuits during their wife's pregnancy, presumably to counteract all the testicle-shrinking exposure to female hormones, baby hats that include felt ears, and frightening terms like "lochia".

I believe JB is displaying all the classic signs of this tragic malady - let's call it TDA - and who could blame him? I mean, just listen to me going on and on about my nasal passages to you guys. Here are just a few of the activities I've driven him to lately:

• Signed up for a half marathon that gave him exactly two months to train, despite having last run any significant amount of distance in high school - then, perhaps not surprisingly, blew out both knees (temporarily) after embarking upon an aggressive several-miles-per-week program

• Pinpointed what he believes to be the location of a shipwreck that is rumored to have gone down with gold coins on board, continues to plot extensive salvage effort including ship, crew, and recovery equipment

• Engaged in angry dispute with City of Bellevue over the ordinance requirements for building a two-car garage; produced many, many detailed building plans that occasionally included "room for a Harley, if I get one someday"

• At the conclusion of the Survivor finale, raced off to the computer to download contestant application, despite warnings from wife that Oct-Dec 2005 shooting schedule would be grounds for divorce proceedings, given brand-new firstborn CHILD and all

TDA. People, I think I'm going to start my own telethon.

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