Week 38: Activo Pillito
Hey there, little Puffeth…
So you missed your chance to be born a Scorpio, and you gave researchers one more statistical point to prove that the cycles of the moon don’t affect the onset of labor.
This week you’ve been extremely active. More so than before…
I’m seeing a lot of pointy waves cruising my belly at different times of the day, and night of course. In the good old times I’d laugh at the fact that whenever I had a “big” meal, that seemed to make things so tight for you, you would stop moving for a while. Not the case any more… No more mercy for mommy. More like “Mommy: You shouldn’t have had that last sip of mango juice. Too bad for you cuz I’m still gonna move as if this belly has no boundaries”. And it clearly doesn’t have them… With all the hard–core surfing of little knees, butt, and elbows on my skin, I’m starting to see the beginning of stretch marks… Stretch marks my body had been able to avoid for so long, you little bugger.
Last time we went to our doctor she found me 80% effaced, though still only 1cm dilated. Although it sounds like we’ll have a relatively fast labor, I’m concerned that my uterus won’t start contracting for a long time. In all this time, I have only felt ONE Braxton-Hicks contraction. I guess I have a lazy uterus, and that’s how I’ll pay for not having exercised much during the last 30something weeks. I wish somebody had taught me how to train the uterus… How to jump start it at will… And no, castor oil and sex don’t sound like things I want to take on right now.
At the doctor they put us on the monitor again, and your performance this time cracked me up. You acted as if you were very scared of that evil buzzer from last time. You stayed awake and gave the nurse all the nice heart accelerations she wanted to see. When she came back in the room she praised you and commented that the chart was beautiful, and although she’d leave us hooked for a few more minutes — she said— things already looked great. Well, it’s as if you had understood all that, because from that moment on you started napping. Like you figured that you were now safe from the buzzer, and it was ok to go to sleep.
I think in the last few days you may have dropped even further down. I say that because since Thursday it feels like I have grown a pair of balls between my legs. And you? You have found a new and improved level of leverage, and have serenaded me with a bunch of action down there that some times makes me open my eyes wide and out of their orbits when I’m about to fall asleep. I tried to explain it to your dad with a metaphor: “Picture that your balls are inside, and someone just goes in there and squeezes them”. Daddy laughed and dismissed the whole thing claiming that women just don’t understand balls. If we did, I would never dare to compare my pain to that of squeezed balls. Of course, what does he know? Men don’t understand pregnancy, and I swear… this new position of yours makes me feel like I’m sporting a new pair of cojones, half in, half out, which you love to squeeze at the least expected times.
When, little Puffeth? When?