As my pregnant days are winding down, I've had a few moments to reflect on this whole experience. There seem to be 3 kinds of pregnant women: those who love the feeling of carrying a child and somehow translate the aches and pains into "the miracle of life" (not sure who you are or where you came from, but more power to ya!), those who put up with the heartburn, cankles, and back pain so that they can have a child (that's me!), and those who didn't expect to be in this position and are miserable being there (see "Billie" from previous post).
Don't get me wrong - those little kicks and now daily hiccups are pretty darn cute, but what's not so cute is seeing me trying to walk these days. It literally is a waddle. And something as simple as carrying a load of laundry down the hall... you try picking up a large watermelon and holding onto it while grabbing a load of clothes out of the dryer. I've become pretty well skilled at picking up things with my feet and flinging them in the air so I can catch them.
So anyway, I'm not sure which of the 3 pregnant types my mom was, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the 3rd option. Mom, if you were one of those who loved it, then, you're welcome! I'm glad I could provide you with such an amazing experience. But, if you were anything like me, then THANK YOU for carrying me around for 9 months! Thank you for putting up with all of the kicking and rolling around I did in your belly at 3am. Thank you for giving up those foods you loved so I wouldn't get sick, or make you sick. And thank you for wearing the many times ill-fitting maternity clothes so that I could grow big and strong before I was ready to enter the world.
And to Little Lindhjem, you are welcome! :)
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