Memories of Prego...

I had a great pregnancy! At least that’s what I remember now, 7 months after the fact. The truth is, in my first trimester; I would attempt to eat breakfast at least 2 or 3 times each morning only to throw it up a few minutes later. It was so bad that I kept a gallon sized zip top bag in the car with me because I made myself sick just driving to work! There were mornings I would lay on a fold-out cushion on the floor in my office. I’d lay there with my head set on to answer the phone as I fed myself saltines and tiny sips of water. My boss was always so sweet about it, but I’m sure she was glad when the phase was over!

By the time my second trimester rolled around I still wasn’t showing much but at least I felt better. It really is the best time in pregnancy. You’re no longer sick, you have lots of energy and your belly is just ‘so big’ that it looks adorable in everything you wear and most of your original pants still fit! (With the help of a pony-tail holder looped through the button hole that is!) This is the best time to go on a vacation, or “babymoon” as I’ve heard it called. We went camping with friends and it was great!

Then comes the third trimester, you become sluggish, huge, and even crankier – if that’s even possible. Despite this, the girls at work loved to see me doing “cute pregnant” things like the belly-shelf or belf as one coworker called it. As I’d waddle down the hall to the copier past other offices I’d hear the familiar cat call, “Hey Chubby, how’s it going today?” From a loveable older man who’s belly is about the same size as mine. I’d call back, “Goin’ good Chubby, and you?” One of the perks of pregnancy is you can pretty much get away with anything, and because you are so big and loveable, people think it’s funny or sweet!


As the days wore on though, I became more and more detached. I had to leave work and start my maternity leave week before my due date because I could no longer function properly with my baby on my mind all day. I recall one afternoon I was polishing the (might I add, not dirty) floors of my house in a fury, a symptom of nesting no doubt. It’s simply amazing the way these instincts just take you over. Then my due date came and went. I tried every trick in the book to induce my labor but she simply wouldn’t budge. I tried things you don’t want to know about and things that I’ll never admit to. But I will admit that I let my mother feed me mineral oil, an old wives tale said to induce labor. It was odorless, tasteless, slimy and utterly ineffective. After my last checkup at the doctor and 8 days miserably over due, we reluctantly scheduled my induction.