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Compartment 14B

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So... no call from Rome for me?

2005-11-22 - 7:09 p.m.

There are things I always thought I would do when I got pregnant that I don�t find myself doing. I thought I�d eat mostly organic food, for instance, and pay very close attention to the nutrients I was getting in order to provide an optimum, nourishing atmosphere inside the Belly. I�d drink lots of water. I thought I�d, not so much listen maybe, as immerse myself in classical music so that my unborn child could be soothed and have his or her brain development augmented by it. I�d take up regular prenatal yoga every week. I�d take long walks. I�d go to bed early and always, always sleep in my left side.

I short, I thought I�d be a gestational saint. After all, �it�s only 9 months� so who wouldn�t make the extra effort for such a short time?

Oh, it�s not like I�m smoking crack, (or anything at all of course) or drinking or anything extremely unhealthy. I still go to the gym and I don�t polish off a tub of Ben & Jerry�s in a sitting. I concentrated on nutrient-dense food in the first half and now have relaxed a bit and moved on to more fuel-oriented foods. I go to bed when I�m tired or when CSI is over, whichever comes later. But I still bypass the organic section more often than not, I have eaten a few hotdogs and drunk the Chinese tea that comes with dim sum from time to time and yes, I�ve been using chocolate frozen yogurt to quell the fiery burn of indigestion more evenings than not lately. And I�ve hardly listened to music at all (except for radio in the car and when my alarm goes off� plus I�ve had an inexplicable urge to listen to Paul Simon�s �Graceland� over and over again, after years of not hearing it.) The coming of the cold weather has curtailed much of our walking.

In short, I�ve probably been more �gestational human� than I thought I�d have to be.

Nine months? Is a looong time my friends. Sure, in a way it goes by fast, in another though I feel like I�ve been pregnant FOREVER. It seems like long time ago that I had to stop eying cute new clothing styles and cast my gaze in the direction of maternity clothes. I feel as though I�ve been reading about pregnancy forever, and truthfully, I just got tired of monitoring my every action with an eye Belly-ward. Those cute new styles? Were spring styles, and since then there�s been a progression of summer, fall, and now winter and Christmas-party wear, none of which have I been able to buy in anything but Buddha shapes.

People, I am tired already of worrying about nipple leakage, and I haven�t even started nursing yet. I can�t imagine the torrents that will drench the front of my shirts if feeling Grommet move as I stroke my Belly already provokes oozing.

I�m already getting frustrated with the fact that I come home relatively early on weekend evenings and J goes to play or watch that cursed hockey, or that, no matter how much I intend to finally clean out the closet in the Grom�s room, I just don�t much feel like doing anything but put my feet up. I don�t really like being the lump I feel like I�m turning into.

Where is that burst of �nesting� energy that will spur me to clean up this place? And how isolated will I feel when I�m home 24/7 with a small, demanding alien creature? And why don�t I just shut up and stop whining already and drink my organic soymilk while perching headphones channeling Mozart on my swelling abdomen if I�m sitting around anyway?

The real fear:
Does all this mean I�m going to be a bad mother?

Before - After


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