Now I lay me down to sleep…
Disclaimer: As I write this, to say that I am exhausted is an offensively not humorous joke. I drove straight through “exhausted” last month, took the detour through “she probably needs medication,” and have recently parked and taken residence in “she crazy.” In this post, you will hear what I really think about being knocked up. So if you don’t think you can read through the irrational, emotional, and probably psychopathic honesty that I’m about to unleash, you may want to go back to doing whatever it was that you were doing before you stumbled onto this entry. Also, if you have a particularly odd (sorry, I’m not sorry) love or admiration for snails, this post is also NOT for you.
As some of you may already know, I am not a big fan of J-Lo. Girl can’t sing or act. Whatever. Anyway, I remember being suckered into watching a film she (…errr?) starred in last summer. You may have seen it. It’s called “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” I was actually shocked at how funny I thought parts of it was. Well, I actually watched it again about a month ago. And, being pregnant while watching it was really quite a different experience. SPOILER ALERT: I’m going to talk about the movie but not give too much away. If you haven’t seen it, I promise this entry won’t ruin it all. But there is some plot exposed here. Throughout the film, there’s one recurring element that displays the drastic and comical differences between two women’s pregnancy experiences. ”Skyler” (played by Brooklyn Decker) is this young, happy, pretty girl who gets impregnated by Dennis Quaid very easily after not even trying to conceive. The other woman, “Wendy” (played by Elizabeth Banks) has a hilariously different experience. Her and her husband Gary (who she affectionately refers to as “Gare Bear”, played by Ben Falcone) have had a rough two years trying to conceive, and when they finally discover that they’re expecting, Wendy’s pregnancy experiences are COMPLETELY different from what she thought they would be, and they’re a far cry from Skyler’s experiences. Skyler barely puts on any weight (and she’s carrying twins so I can say from experience that’s a bunch of bologna), doesn’t have any tiredness, moodiness, morning sickness, or other unattractive marks of pregnancy. The only thing that she mentions experiencing is having more energy and being more in the mood (wink-wink). Meanwhile, Wendy is a hot mess.
There’s this one AMAZING scene in the movie that honestly makes the whole thing worth watching. In that part of the movie, Wendy gets very honest and publicly vulnerable as she gives a speech at a pregnancy conference. Below, I have posted her monologue.
“Pregnancy’s glow is made from two scoops of angel kisses. It begins when you feel the first…(gets choked up)…sorry, hormones! (Audience laughs nervously with her.) I just find myself crying all the time…
I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of any of this stuff before I got pregnant, ya know? I just wanted ‘the glow.’ The one they promise you on the cover of those magazines with the pretty lady looking down at her perfectly round belly with that sweet smile.
Okay, you know what? The truth is…I’m sorry, I’m just so uncomfortable. I can’t think with this thing on (takes off her bra from under her shirt and hands it to her assistant, audience gasps). I don’t even recognize my own body anymore, ya know? It’s like I could fit twenty of my old bras into this giant piece of granny spandex that’s just…(pauses, then seems to lose her train of thought.)
Well, I’m calling it. I’m calling b*ull$h*t. I’m calling b*ll$h*t on the whole thing. Pregnancy sucks. Making a human being is really hard. I have no control over my body or my emotions. Gare Bear (looks at her husband in the crowd), I’m sorry but all I wanna do is punch you in the face, but I love you so much so I don’t mean it.
I don’t know about you, but I didn’t get ‘the glow.’ I just got backne and hemorrhoids – have you ever seen those? Don’t do it, don’t take the mirror down there! And I have these purple stretch marks everywhere and this pressure hanging from my uterus that makes me walk like I was kicked in the vag. (Audience gasps.) Too far? It’s just I couldn’t think of another way to describe it.
So, they say when it’s all over, you forget the whole thing. And I for one really hope that’s true. (She makes her way exit off the stage and farts out loud.) Like THAT, I really hope I forget THAT.”
Honestly, that scene was the most honest glimpse into pregnancy that I have encountered. So many women sugar coat it and make it seem like pregnancy is the best thing in the world. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the simple fact that I am growing tiny humans. And when I think about being a mom, I swoon. But other than those two items, I simply loathe being pregnant.
As I write this, I have been up for almost 96 consecutive hours. Yes, you read that right. NINETY-SIX HOURS. If you Google “pregnancy symptoms,” insomnia is one of them, and I’m almost annoyed at the word “insomnia”. When you’re not pregnant, insomnia probably means that you had a hard time sleeping through one entire night. When you’re pregnant, it takes on an entirely different and more intense meaning. It means that you honestly cannot sleep. And it’s not for lack of trying. You cannot get comfortable. Every which way you position yourself only seems to make your body hurt. “Use more pillows” is something your doctor will tell you. To which I bite my tongue. I have tried sleeping with five pillows. FIVE PILLLOWS. Two to support my head, one to hold on to with my arms, one between my knees and one behind me to support my back. You wanna know what 1am looks like in my bed? I’m still awake and sweating from being encroached on by my ”pillow moat,” two pillows are on the floor and three are on my husband. I can only assume that since I cannot really find him under all that fluff. If you are lucky enough to find yourself in a comfortable enough position to actually fall asleep, it hits you and it hits you hard. Acid reflux. The kind that causes you to launch your stomach acid in a projectile manner. The good news is that when your stomach acid becomes air-born, it more than likely will land on one of those freaking pillows on the ground, making clean-up easier.
Okay, so the insomnia, discomfort and acid reflux have led me to this painfully awkward point in my pregnancy. Since I have not been able to sleep at night, I try to take naps during the day. It has almost worked two afternoons now. The first afternoon, I had just dozed off. I wasn’t entirely “out” at that point, but was asleep enough to not remember the last 10 minutes of whatever episode of “Lost” I was watching. Then, it happened. Someone knocked on my door. When I didn’t respond, he knocked again. Then he rang the door bell. I waddled to the peep hole and saw it was our friend looking to borrow some of Kyle’s tools. It took EVERYTHING in me to not go crazy on him. I mean, EVERYTHING. And I love this guy. He just had no idea what he was in for when he decided to stop by unannounced. I know he felt terrible once he realized that he had woken me up and then I felt terrible knowing that I made him feel terrible. Day two of trying to take naps? Some idiot knocked loudly and for a painfully long time on my door and as he did it he yelled, “Hello, hello, hello, hello there!” I was so startled by that. I mean, who does that? I’ll tell you who. The local community college student who lives somewhere nearby looking to “make new friends and conversation for his speech class.” Oh, I gave HIM a speech. It went a little something along the lines of me being pregnant, cranky, not interested, and royally pissed off that he felt entitled to assault my front door and that if he really wanted to make friends he should join a church or get a membership at the Y or just simply get the heck off my front stoop before I call the cops. Yes. I said that. All of that.
Anyway, all that led to the following sign being posted over my unfairly abused doorbell:
So far, it has worked. I have noticed that my immediate neighbors seem scared to greet me when we cross paths to the parking lot or mail box.
The insomnia has also led to a near psychotic break. My mother in law decided to purchase one of those pregnancy body pillows for me for my birthday. When I found out, I started crying. Not one of those “oh, how sweet, she’s so grateful” kind of cries. I think my emotional response really frightened my husband. At first, I just made crying sounds but there were no tears. I have no idea where they were but they decided not to show up on my face for a rather odd length of time. Then, I started laughing. Like psychotic laughing where I tossed my head back and no sounds came out. All this was happening while I was standing in my living room. At one point, I leaned my head up against the wall and began to lightly pound it. I kept chanting phrases like, “I’m so excited to sleep,” “thank you, Vicki” (my mother in law’s name), “why is it going to take four days to get here?”, “only three more nights without it,” “THREE MORE NIGHTS WITHOUT IT?” All those sentences kept coming out of my mouth while I was pounding my pregnant face on the wall, and while I was psycho silent laughing and sobbing. All my husband could do was stare at me. He suggested we take a walk.
I was still in the middle of talking to myself like Gollum (“three more nights till my precious is here”) when we walked out of the apartment. As we were rounding the corner to get to the main side walk, my husband and I both noticed a snail sliding across the path. It was like my husband could read my mind. He shouted out, “NOOOO!!!” and he watched as I swung my leg to launch that poor snail onto the lawn. “Why would you do that!?” I honestly have no freaking clue. It was therapeutic for some odd reason. Then I realized that I had just kicked a snail. I’m sure he was alive on the lawn, but I started sobbing loudly again. Then laughing. Then sweating. Kyle guided me back inside, “maybe a walk was a bad decision.”
As I wrap this post up, all I can say is that I hope most of you ladies who have ever grown a human inside of your body can relate to all of that. Because if I am the only woman in existence to ever feel these things then I think I should be studied. I also hope that my preggo pillow doesn’t let me down when it arrives at my door. For the sake of my health and my husband’s love and commitment to me, I pray that I get some sleep soon. And I pray that no more innocent, unsuspecting snails decide to slide in front of me.