It took me 9 months to pen this down!

I have read somewhere that when even after a baby comes out D-day (not dooms day ok) it still assumes the fetal position. This is probably because the little thing has been so used to his cramp space, he still doesn't realize that he has roomier space to stretch. Or, it has become sooo comfortable for him to be in that position, he'd rather not stray away from his comfort zone.

I envy my baby boy. Unlike him, it has been 8 months since I saw the second line (literally, the "life line") on my pregnancy stick. Up to this point, I still haven't gotten myself used to the "pregnant belly" syndrome. Well, I may be luckier than most women-- I never felt the urge to scratch my belly, really. It was never itchy. But other than that, I was the typical "mom-to-be".

For the most part of my 9-month sojourn (I'm just 2 weeks from showtime!), I have shared the same painstaking, "somewhat frustrating", yet gratifying moments of motherhood. These are the things I can recall so far...

First was the Restless Leg Syndrome. My OB never knew about it, and asked me to consult a neurologist, which I never did because I knew what it was (thanks, Heide Murkoff!). There were days (which lasted for 5 months, I think) that I had literally wanted to amputate my legs because they felt they were someone else's. It wasn't pins and needles, but it was like they had a life of their own. It would start from my upper thigh, then transcend to my buttocks, to the legs, calves and my feet. Literally, they were restless, making me restless too. It was annoying, especially when I tried to catch sleep at night. But, the most annoying part is when Gary (my husband, my doula, and my co-maker...haha!) would ask me to "exactly describe" how I felt, and I could not even get a close one to describing it. I would just be so annoyed and walk to-and-fro briskly in our bedroom. And so, I also experienced "burning feet". My feet would overheat and even ice-cold water cannot appease the rage. That lasted for months...every night...and everytime I was still. Gary just settled with comparing it to a deep-vein thrombosis (with which I could not negate to nor confirm because I have never expereienced deep vein shit). Good thing, my RSL ended just right before my belly "popped".

At this point, I could not imagine having to go through annoying legs with a blown-up belly. There was no known cure for it, and science hasn't even identified what causes it! Dang, was I glad when it was over!

This time around, my fingers gave me the creeps. They became so stubby, you'd mistake it with Long Johns--minus the appeal. I had to wear my wedding ring on my neck...=,( And because they were stubby, they lost their coordination as well. Everything I touched succumbed to gravity...things started falling as soon as I touched them, and with my booming belly, picking things up became quite a turmoil—a true test of womanhood! These are the things I hated--especially when I had to pick them up again (mind you, they won't just bungee-jump out of my hands once)-- papers/documents or any thin sheet, and coins. There was this one time I opened my desk drawer full of office trinkets...the drawer was pulled out too far, it crashed to the floor. An officemate had to pick up the "fallen things" for me--paperclips, staple bates, push pins, and paper fasteners. Geez.

To make falling things worse, bottle caps would swoosh out of my hand when I tried to screw them on the bottle mouth, and they would jump directly to areas I cannot manage to squeeze my hand in--below the refrigerator! Documents would slide way below my reach...under the desk or under the computer table. My slippers would run underneath the bed. Argh!

Now, let's talk wardrobe. I have written about this before, but I thought it wouldn't harm if I stress the point. (haha!) My wardrobe was mainly loose, baggy, or airy--anything that could stretch a mile wide in any direction. It was like seeing MC Hammer making out with Missy Elliot, you could't tell whose clothes is for which gender. I swear, post-delivery, you can sew the clothes together and could make a huge hot-air balloon out of them! Or, I could do charity and house vagrants altogether.

What’s more, my feet couldn't fit in ANY of my work shoes. It literally just expanded in every way possible, more like an inflated three-ring pool. I actually had a relative theory of why bellies pop--way infront of a pregnant woman: to cover how unsightly of an image your footsies have become. (God must have really planned this journey all along! ) And since I never trust anyone to take care of my pedi, I still did the whole thing all through out my pregnancy. Of course, it was much of a hassle than a hygiene seeing myself contort to cut and clean my nails. But, I did manage to cut just the nails, and not myself.

Emotionally, the whole process was placid for me. My baby did not present any “hassle” which was more than necessary. I never altered my digestion process (read: puking), nor have I felt nauseous in my mid-term. I can’t even believe that I'm still working and I'm due in 2 weeks! Although, I had really fierce struggle in combatting sleep DURING work hours... =,) All in all, my pregnancy has been low-risk and I would like to commend my baby for behaving this early.

Of course, it wasn't all that ugly. As an expecting mom (and daddie...), Gary and I took on a new form of entertainment--watching the baby kick, waddle and squirm inside me. My huge belly, although already inviting of attention on its own, did its own show when the baby tried to shift positions. There were times whem my tummy was heavy on the left, sometimes it would look like a unicorn, and most of the times, the baby would poke out in different locations. How it regarded my tummy as his playland at my leisure. Gary would also join in the fun by instructing our little bean to poke this X spot to this Y spot. Coincidence or otherwise, the baby would follow orders, but we would be so dumb-founded and teary-eyed, we usually miss the next big movement. Our marital conversations varied from, "did you see him kick?", or "did the baby move already?". Everday, we make it a point to talk to him and ask him questions. Hahaha!We'd give him choices for the answer--two pokes for yes, one poke for no and silence ( or stillness) for who-cares. My friend shared that we should be really taking this experience as it comes becuase after delivery, we'd miss all the fun when baby was still inside. =,(

In closing, I haven’t gotten myself used to my state, even if I have been "huge" for months now. Believe it or not, sometimes, I still jump in place when I'm excited, or brisk-walk when I'm running late (which was always). Apparently, Cien Esquisse will be coming out real soon,so I don’t have to bother myself to getting used to being pregnant anymore. Call me a slow-learner or whatever, but I am really just this comfortable even with a baby boy in tuck.

Now, I wonder how it's going to be like having 2 boys around the house...Boys really define a woman--and her patience. ;-)