Things I Can't Do at 18 Weeks

Almost half way through the pregnancy, and I have to come to terms with the fact that there are some things I just can't do anymore.

Can't hide the bump
I started showing early and so it's no surprise that while other people can pull off unbuttoning their normal-people pants, there is no hope for me. I can't fit into pre-pregnancy anything. My shirts don't cover the bottom of my tummy, my pants are impossible to button... or even look semi normal unbuttoned. I'm shocked that I don't need maternity socks at this point. There is no faking it. I am pregnant.

Can't move without making noises
Papapotamus was the first to notice. I have to grunt and moan in order to work up the ability to lift myself from lying to sitting, or sitting to standing. I have to summon the strength with guttural heaves and throaty growls a la Serena Williams.

Can't have a nice bath
I tried. I was snuggling with Papapotamus one night and he turned to me and said, "Let me draw you a bath". The words dripped like honey from his juicy lips. Papapotamus is like the king of drawing baths. He lights candles, puts in the fizzy stuff, makes bubbles, sprinkles rose petals. Then he leaves... Oh it's like a little mini spa where I can dunk my ears under the water and almost not hear the TV. This time was different. The bottom of the tub was too hard and flat and it hurt my back. While lying there, the only thing I could see was a large mound of pregnant belly petruding out of the water. It looked like the top of a blubbery mountain bursting through a cloud of bubbles. Shortest. Bath. Ever.

Can't see my feet
I dropped one of Kiddopotamus's cups on the floor and when I looked down to see it, it wasn't there. The only thing that was there was a big round belly with a baby in it. I took a step back and still couldn't see it; only belly. I bent forward a little and there was the cup. The cup, but no feet. My face twisted involuntarily. "I cannot see my feet", I snarled through gritted teeth, "You had better be really cute when you get out of there."

Can't walk
There is no walk. There is only waddle. My hips are all loosey goosey with relaxin, a hormone that loosens your joints during pregnancy. My stomach is throwing off my center of gravity. These things, probably combined with some others that I am just accepting and not taking into account, make me waddle.

Can't keep my hands off my stomach
Yes, sometimes I am lovingly patting my baby. Mostly, I am trying to hold my stomach up to keep from having round ligament pain. For my male / no baby friends, there is a round ligament that attaches to your uterus and holds it in place, as a pregnant woman's uterus grows, it becomes strained and in its ire, it grows a knife and stabs her repeatedly in the underbelly every time she moves. Holding everything still while walking, rolling over, sitting, standing, and breathing can sometimes help you get away with it without being attacked.

Can't breathe
The baby is still low - all contained below my belly button at this point. The problem is that everything else that used to be low is being pushed elsewhere, including up. I've got over 20 feet of intestines in there. What? Did you think I had some extra space? No. I didn't; I don't; and the baby is still growing. "Make way for baby!" Scream my intestines as they scrunch up against my stomach and lungs. "Don't worry about me," assures my stomach, "I'm going to throw up everything and be empty anyway. You don't need me." My lungs say, "We will just breath twice as hard and three times as much. Anything for baby!"

Can't stop thinking about the baby
All of these things, plus a strong maternal drive, mean that I think about my little Babypotamus nonstop. Who are you in there? Why do you feel so cute when you attack my innards? How is it I can already tell you are worth all of these things I can't do anymore - and all the things I won't do after you're born? We are almost half way there, little baby!

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