Feelings on being pregnant
Jul. 13th, 2009 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
norsegirlPregnancy to me is very much a means to and end. I'm not one of these women who really enjoys each and every little kick as a bonding experience. Heck, when you get right down to it I'm not really that in to the whole baby thing. I'm looking forward to a little person who can talk, and learn, and play with us. It's not that I'll actively dislike the baby experience I don't think, it's just that I'm definitely more jazzed about the next stage, and while I can find other people's kids age 3 and up kind of interesting, I'm not the least bit interested in other people's babies or toddlers.
Getting back to the pregnancy thing... I'm getting the impression that this is a little like being obese. Granted it's all in one spot, so I'm sure there are more ways that being obese sucks, and of course the fact that it's obviously a pregnancy saves me from the external emotional effects of strangers being rude, but it's still enough of an inconvenience that I wonder how the massively obese let themselves get this way and it's having an effect on my psyche. If I had a choice, I'd put an end to this immediately, like if it was a weight problem and not a "having a baby, this comes with the territory" kind of thing. And I want to be clear, this is not like being a little bit heavy, or a bit above average or the "healthy BMI", I am freaking massive.
It's the little things that are really damn difficult.
Tying my shoes is a fucking ordeal. I seem to be able to reach the right foot okay, but for some reason the left is a bitch. In a few weeks I may just decide to shun anything that isn't a slide-on or just say fuck it to shoes entirely. I can't put them on standing up. And getting up and down from a seated position, either on a chair or on the ground is awkward as all hell.
Shaving my legs is another thing that sucks in a massive way. I might go and get waxed in a week or two so I can give that up for the last month as well. And don't even get me started on how hard it is to cut my toe nails.
Personal hygiene is becoming an issue for me. Other than in the mirror I haven't seen my girl bits in weeks. A few weeks ago Jason was kind and supportive enough to trim all my hair down there. I hate when it gets all jungly and I'm normally meticulous about maintaining myself, but not being able to see what I'm doing makes me really hesitant to be waving scissors around. I don't like to shave because then it grows back in and that's itchy. I'm not sure about waxing there, that sounds like more pain than I want to get in to. Jason will probably have to trim me again before this is done at least once. I hate that I am no longer able to do this for myself but I really, really can't bear to let myself go.
Reaching things is also virtually impossible. I can't get close enough to the counters to reach even the second shelf of some of my cupboards. I'm getting very tired of having to ask Jason to get things for me or dragging a step-stool around.
And then there's my concept of personal space. I taught a class this weekend and kept almost getting whacked because I was standing too close to my students because I don't yet have a real idea of where I end. It's like when you start driving a bigger car and you don't know where all the corners are or how far out the bumpers go. Other people also seem to have a problem with this because I don't look "fat" from the neck up, but I'm taking up a lot of real estate around the waist. On the holiday weekend a cop pushing past me in a doorway almost took my belly off with his walkie talkie and hardly even muttered a "sorry" as I was standing there in agony having just been thumped in a sensitive spot with something hard and with corners. I also can't squeeze through spaces I normally can. It's taking some getting used to the idea that sucking in has no effect at all. I have to search for larger parking spaces so I can open the door enough to get clearance and I have to be really careful about how I park the car in the garage so I'm not too close to the wall. Having to shift my knowledge of what part of my is largest is also strange. You know how cats use their whiskers to know if they'll fit through a space. In the past the largest part was around my hips, so if I could get my butt past, I was good. My belly is soooooo much larger than my bum now. And worst of all, I used to be smaller if I tried to squeeze through sideways (hips from front view were wider than belly + bum). I'm not entirely sure which way is larger now, but the belly is definitely more sensitive if it gets squished or thumped and my instinct is betraying me by thinking I'm still smaller in that dimension.
It also gets in the way when I try to lift or move thing or put stuff on my lap. I've dropped my laptop a lot this week because I just don't have the space on my lap. And I keep dropping things on myself when I eat because I can't get close enough to the table or the plate, so it's inevitable that something is going to fall off the fork en-route. Picking up boxes or bulky but light things is hard. Moving the outdoor furniture with Jason a few weeks ago was virtually impossible and I had to walk sideways the whole time because I couldn't even grab it in front of me.
Finally, there's the reduced stamina. I can't walk as far or as fast. I can't run after my dogs in the park (I tried, I made it like 5 steps before I had to admit defeat). Walking up the stairs requires effort. I can't take the steps 2 at a time like I normally do because I can't lift my legs that high, they run into my stomach. Not that I'd have the energy to 2-stair it.
I imagine these experiences are similar to what one would experience being obese and it's having a major effect on my mental well-being. I feel fat and useless and dependent. All in all, I can do this because it's a limited-time thing with a definite end-date in sight. But if this was just a slow decline you can bet I'd be doing everything in my power to fight it off. Having this extra bulk is just so damned inconvenient and not at all conducive to independence, which is something I value very highly.
And that is why there are very few pictures of me pregnant. I feel fat and useless. And please don't come out with any of the "you're pregnant and beautiful" baloney. It would be like telling an anorexic girl that she's skinny enough. What you say and how I feel are not related, and what you say isn't going to have an effect on how I feel. You saying it just makes me feel awkward because yeah, duh, I know I'm not fat, I just feel that way. I won't run from a camera, so if I happen to be out somewhere doing the tourist thing and end up in a picture that's fine. I've had pics taken when my sister visited and again when my parents visited. But I am not setting up a photo session just to capture my hugeness, so please don't ask.
Having gotten all that off my chest I think I'm off to putter around the house on some project before I get too large to be able to reach it.
Getting back to the pregnancy thing... I'm getting the impression that this is a little like being obese. Granted it's all in one spot, so I'm sure there are more ways that being obese sucks, and of course the fact that it's obviously a pregnancy saves me from the external emotional effects of strangers being rude, but it's still enough of an inconvenience that I wonder how the massively obese let themselves get this way and it's having an effect on my psyche. If I had a choice, I'd put an end to this immediately, like if it was a weight problem and not a "having a baby, this comes with the territory" kind of thing. And I want to be clear, this is not like being a little bit heavy, or a bit above average or the "healthy BMI", I am freaking massive.
It's the little things that are really damn difficult.
Tying my shoes is a fucking ordeal. I seem to be able to reach the right foot okay, but for some reason the left is a bitch. In a few weeks I may just decide to shun anything that isn't a slide-on or just say fuck it to shoes entirely. I can't put them on standing up. And getting up and down from a seated position, either on a chair or on the ground is awkward as all hell.
Shaving my legs is another thing that sucks in a massive way. I might go and get waxed in a week or two so I can give that up for the last month as well. And don't even get me started on how hard it is to cut my toe nails.
Personal hygiene is becoming an issue for me. Other than in the mirror I haven't seen my girl bits in weeks. A few weeks ago Jason was kind and supportive enough to trim all my hair down there. I hate when it gets all jungly and I'm normally meticulous about maintaining myself, but not being able to see what I'm doing makes me really hesitant to be waving scissors around. I don't like to shave because then it grows back in and that's itchy. I'm not sure about waxing there, that sounds like more pain than I want to get in to. Jason will probably have to trim me again before this is done at least once. I hate that I am no longer able to do this for myself but I really, really can't bear to let myself go.
Reaching things is also virtually impossible. I can't get close enough to the counters to reach even the second shelf of some of my cupboards. I'm getting very tired of having to ask Jason to get things for me or dragging a step-stool around.
And then there's my concept of personal space. I taught a class this weekend and kept almost getting whacked because I was standing too close to my students because I don't yet have a real idea of where I end. It's like when you start driving a bigger car and you don't know where all the corners are or how far out the bumpers go. Other people also seem to have a problem with this because I don't look "fat" from the neck up, but I'm taking up a lot of real estate around the waist. On the holiday weekend a cop pushing past me in a doorway almost took my belly off with his walkie talkie and hardly even muttered a "sorry" as I was standing there in agony having just been thumped in a sensitive spot with something hard and with corners. I also can't squeeze through spaces I normally can. It's taking some getting used to the idea that sucking in has no effect at all. I have to search for larger parking spaces so I can open the door enough to get clearance and I have to be really careful about how I park the car in the garage so I'm not too close to the wall. Having to shift my knowledge of what part of my is largest is also strange. You know how cats use their whiskers to know if they'll fit through a space. In the past the largest part was around my hips, so if I could get my butt past, I was good. My belly is soooooo much larger than my bum now. And worst of all, I used to be smaller if I tried to squeeze through sideways (hips from front view were wider than belly + bum). I'm not entirely sure which way is larger now, but the belly is definitely more sensitive if it gets squished or thumped and my instinct is betraying me by thinking I'm still smaller in that dimension.
It also gets in the way when I try to lift or move thing or put stuff on my lap. I've dropped my laptop a lot this week because I just don't have the space on my lap. And I keep dropping things on myself when I eat because I can't get close enough to the table or the plate, so it's inevitable that something is going to fall off the fork en-route. Picking up boxes or bulky but light things is hard. Moving the outdoor furniture with Jason a few weeks ago was virtually impossible and I had to walk sideways the whole time because I couldn't even grab it in front of me.
Finally, there's the reduced stamina. I can't walk as far or as fast. I can't run after my dogs in the park (I tried, I made it like 5 steps before I had to admit defeat). Walking up the stairs requires effort. I can't take the steps 2 at a time like I normally do because I can't lift my legs that high, they run into my stomach. Not that I'd have the energy to 2-stair it.
I imagine these experiences are similar to what one would experience being obese and it's having a major effect on my mental well-being. I feel fat and useless and dependent. All in all, I can do this because it's a limited-time thing with a definite end-date in sight. But if this was just a slow decline you can bet I'd be doing everything in my power to fight it off. Having this extra bulk is just so damned inconvenient and not at all conducive to independence, which is something I value very highly.
And that is why there are very few pictures of me pregnant. I feel fat and useless. And please don't come out with any of the "you're pregnant and beautiful" baloney. It would be like telling an anorexic girl that she's skinny enough. What you say and how I feel are not related, and what you say isn't going to have an effect on how I feel. You saying it just makes me feel awkward because yeah, duh, I know I'm not fat, I just feel that way. I won't run from a camera, so if I happen to be out somewhere doing the tourist thing and end up in a picture that's fine. I've had pics taken when my sister visited and again when my parents visited. But I am not setting up a photo session just to capture my hugeness, so please don't ask.
Having gotten all that off my chest I think I'm off to putter around the house on some project before I get too large to be able to reach it.
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Date: 2009-07-14 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-07-14 11:23 pm (UTC)my 5 cents
Date: 2009-07-14 11:40 pm (UTC)