Yesterday I had mid-section pains.
Like lots of gas. Nothing to do with the baby (other than perhaps he was helping the gas to form by squishing my innards.)
I called my husband in extreme pain and moaned "I have a stomach ache..."
Don't worry, the pains are gone. Some TLC from The C, light eating, lots of fluids, some rolaids and lots of farting seemed to do the trick. This morning I feel fine.
But something else struck as funny about this painful interlude: my mid-section had made the transition from stomach to belly without me even noticing it. In fact, I didn't even realize until I was forced to be more specific about an area in my middle. ("No, no, it's not the baby. It's my stomach, the organ where the food goes!") It seemed that I was using the word stomach for the first time in months.
Belly... It's such an odd word. But kinda cute- just like babies. It's funny that now that there is a baby in there we use a babyish word to describe it.
Also odd about the belly is that finally at 30 weeks mine is apparent. I am no longer looking fatter than normal. I actually look pregnant. (As in: my mid-section protrudes further than my triple-D boobs.) I am starting to feel heavy. I have pelvic pain and stretch marks, have trouble rolling over in bed at night, and can see my belly button lap scar which has been hidden in my innie for 15 years. But I also see evidence of my little boy growing, and I am in constant awe.
However, while all is amazing inside my belly, I feel bad looking pregnant out in the world at large. Everywhere I go I find myself praying that my belly isn't hurting anyone. I know that pain all too well...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)