So my Saturday started pretty ordinary. My plan was to go to the office for a bit, run by K-Mart to grab a ton of hangers for my NEW maternity wardrobe, and then hit the pavement for my first jog of 2011. It was a gorgeous day and it consumed me with productive possibilities!
First stop- the office. I just love my co-workers and the random humor the bring to my day-to-day. There are a few of us in the office that are particularly close and we have one of those "fun-loving, sarcastic banter, this company makes me crazy so listen to my problems" type of relationship. Well I am sitting at my desk pecking away and all the sudden I get kinda dizzy, break into a cold sweat, and think to myself, "this is gonna be bad". Right about then...Shannonland goes black. Suzanne came to the rescue immediately by laying me on my back on the floor and putting my feet up in the air, yuk I know...my first comment when I got my wits about me was "I hope this carpet has been cleaned". So there I was, laying on the floor of my office in yoga pants and a t-shirt giving everyone in the office a little pregnancy scare (haha that term just took on a new meaning). I'm just glad I was around my awesome co-workers and not at K-Mart or I would have ended up on the K-Mart floor which is a far greater threat to a pregnant woman than listeria, soft cheeses, and hot tubs combined! Zach came to get me and took me straight to Sonic to pump some sugar through my veins and then he put me to bed for the rest of the morning. After talking to a few fellow preggos I found out this was in fact very common and it just meant I had a drop in blood sugar or it could be due to the increased blood flow...many factors that can throw your body out of whack. Zach was very protective of me all day and I was barely able to get out of the house for a baby shower, he made me promise if I felt bad to sit down, eat something, and find Becky. I said, ok "dad". I think baby shower cake and frosted sugar cookies were just what the doctor ordered however I might have gone from a drop in blood sugar to causing gestational diabetes that day.
That evening we got all dolled up for the Mardi Gras ball. It was a great evening that started at a friends house for a little pre-party. I felt like I had not been in society forever. Since all of the most recent Christmas parties and social events were a blur due to the lovely side effects of the first trimester combined with the fact that Zach and I are in bed by 9pm these days...I really felt like it was my debut to society! We had a great time seeing all of our friends and dancing to disco music but by 11:15 pm, Zach told me I had "rocked sexy long enough" meaning "way to go babe you really were a trooper and you can leave whenever you want because I know you are exhausted". And that I did! During my 3 block drive home I had time to ponder 2 pregnancy challenges I had discovered that night:
1. I have worn heels for 10+ years now- in college I wore them on a daily basis for hours on end and the past 7 years working I think I might have worn flats 5x. Why is it that at 4 months pregnant I feel like they are foreign torture devices? I was even wearing some of my more-comfortable-uncomfortable-formal heels. I felt like a circus act...come watch the 400lb gorilla stuff it's paws into 2 cotton candy cones and attempt to walk the tight rope. It was terrible. After complainging to other empathetic pregnant girls at the ball there were 2 theories we came up with a) our center of gravity is off making the normal heel wearing process awkward and uncomfortable, and b) the added weight makes a difference (I was somewhat skeptical of this theory since I have only gained 3 lbs and I weighed more than this at some points college).
2. Why do the general masses{old and young, male and female, pregnant and not pregnant} feel the need to extend their arm, flatten their palm, and proceed to rub my stomach. Going back to college...I had a bigger pooch during some points in college (thanks to Phi Mu house food and "Willie Burger day"). This is not okay. If you are reading this and you are my mom, dad, grandmother, aunt, best friend, or husband you are exempt. Basically if you have seen me in my bra at some point in life...go right ahead...rub away. But if you are some random 60 yr old man that I go to church with keep your hands to yourself. I am in my 17th week.... there is really nothing to see unless I am in head-to-toe spandex (haha fat chance).... and do you really know what you are grabbing for? I didn't think so. I have some body parts that are larger and lower than ever and you might get a little surprise if you think you are grabbing tummy. Just sayin'....watch yourself buddy. I might start rubbing back.
So there you have it...24 hours in the life of a pregnant woman. But you know, I can totally tolerate any and all of these little side-effects of pregnancy...because my body is MAKING A PERSON, what did your body do Saturday??
3 comments:
Now you can identify with my aversion to high heels,those torture devices! Could cause a twisted ankle, or at least pinched toes. I'm glad I can still be a baby bump patter, since I plan to do lots of patting after it's born. Love you, Mom
And thank Zach for the extra TLC he provides for you two.
Wow, what a day! You look great. And hooray for a maternity wardrobe! I loved the excuse to go shopping and there are so many great non maternity options out there too . . . it's a great time to be pregnant fashion wise :). I totally agree on the belly rubbing. I say go right ahead and rub them back. See how they like it :). Glad you're feeling better. xo
Okay, so you look amazing. And remember, you have to eat every few hours, missy. . .
As for belly rubbing. . . just be glad you don't live in NYC or work at a gym. Stranger on the street seriously tried to rub my belly. You can imagine what I told him. . . . And regulars at the gym who never talked to me before-men & women. Just weird. My rule was if you would have touched me normally in conversation, rub all you want. If you would think it was weird for me to touch you, hands off! So weird. . . like, "hi strange man, I am going to touch your upper thigh now" Actually, maybe that is what they are hoping for. . . . hmmmm. . .
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