RitchieWoman (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ritchiewoman) wrote,@ 2004-10-06 00:39:00 |
|
I can't catch my breath!
No, not because I was running through the fallen leaves in the park, arms open, enjoying the brisk autumn afternoon.
And no, not because I just got back from my bellydancing class with hip-shaking goddesses also known as Peachy and Sundry.
I'm out of breath because this kid in my belly is squishing my lungs up into my throat.
He's also got one foot on my stomach, causing me to be full after three bites of food, and another on my bladder, forcing me to the loo every 3 and 1/2 minutes.
Everyone tells me how tiny I am, and I really am grateful for the comments, but I'm telling you I feel so crowded right now. And I'm convinced he's gonna be a figure skater cuz it feels as if he's doing triple sowcows in there.
Sowcows. Sister Anne and I had a joke about that...
I digress. So there's my pregnancy bitch for the day. Ah, I feel much better.
(With the exception of not being able to breathe or eat and having to pee every 3 and 1/2 minutes. Oh, and let's not even discuss the heartburn.)
Jase keeps telling me how awful my life could be right now. Like I could have a real job, like in an office, and have to drive to work and wear real clothes and imagine how uncomfortable I'd be then. Or he reminds me how badly I wanted to be pregnant and how long it took to get here and it's only a small little fragment of my entire life and really, I should be enjoying these moments and writing them all down.
He's lucky he's still alive.
Actually, he IS lucky he's still alive. He started choking yesterday. While Jase was eating a sandwich, we were watching this segment on the news about a dog in a London dog shelter who not only figured out how to get out of his cage after hours, but also learned how to let all the other dogs out as well so they could have an after-hours dog party. Next thing I know, Jase is standing up and his eyes start watering and he's making this weird noise.
Of course, I thought he was joking. I was close - it RHYMED with joking.
He starts making this awful wheezing noise. I, being the coolest cucumber under pressure, start slapping his chest and yelling, "Are you choking?! Are you fucking with me?!" Tears were now streaming down his face and I start really freaking out. But in the back of my mind, I knew that if he was making a wheezing sound, he was getting air. And he was. He managed to clear his throat and breathe again.
What do you think was the first thing he said to me?
"I almost went out like Mama Cass."
Well, I'm glad he didn't. That would have TOTALLY sucked.
xoxo A
No, not because I was running through the fallen leaves in the park, arms open, enjoying the brisk autumn afternoon.
And no, not because I just got back from my bellydancing class with hip-shaking goddesses also known as Peachy and Sundry.
I'm out of breath because this kid in my belly is squishing my lungs up into my throat.
He's also got one foot on my stomach, causing me to be full after three bites of food, and another on my bladder, forcing me to the loo every 3 and 1/2 minutes.
Everyone tells me how tiny I am, and I really am grateful for the comments, but I'm telling you I feel so crowded right now. And I'm convinced he's gonna be a figure skater cuz it feels as if he's doing triple sowcows in there.
Sowcows. Sister Anne and I had a joke about that...
I digress. So there's my pregnancy bitch for the day. Ah, I feel much better.
(With the exception of not being able to breathe or eat and having to pee every 3 and 1/2 minutes. Oh, and let's not even discuss the heartburn.)
Jase keeps telling me how awful my life could be right now. Like I could have a real job, like in an office, and have to drive to work and wear real clothes and imagine how uncomfortable I'd be then. Or he reminds me how badly I wanted to be pregnant and how long it took to get here and it's only a small little fragment of my entire life and really, I should be enjoying these moments and writing them all down.
He's lucky he's still alive.
Actually, he IS lucky he's still alive. He started choking yesterday. While Jase was eating a sandwich, we were watching this segment on the news about a dog in a London dog shelter who not only figured out how to get out of his cage after hours, but also learned how to let all the other dogs out as well so they could have an after-hours dog party. Next thing I know, Jase is standing up and his eyes start watering and he's making this weird noise.
Of course, I thought he was joking. I was close - it RHYMED with joking.
He starts making this awful wheezing noise. I, being the coolest cucumber under pressure, start slapping his chest and yelling, "Are you choking?! Are you fucking with me?!" Tears were now streaming down his face and I start really freaking out. But in the back of my mind, I knew that if he was making a wheezing sound, he was getting air. And he was. He managed to clear his throat and breathe again.
What do you think was the first thing he said to me?
"I almost went out like Mama Cass."
Well, I'm glad he didn't. That would have TOTALLY sucked.
xoxo A
