Pregnancy: Key Points No One Bothered To Share With Me

As you know, I’ve tried not to touch too much on this subject out of the fear of something going horribly wrong.

But, even if my worst fears become reality, I will have still been pregnant for the last 19 weeks, and there are a number of things about this experience that have honestly surprised me.

I feel that it is my duty to inform you of them.

Disclaimer:  For those of you who still insist on believing that my writings reflect a sad and tortured existence, please know that I am very happy to be on the motherhood journey. 

It’s just that spewing rainbows and butterflies is not my style.

1.  Morning sickness is exactly like a bad hangover – except with the gift of extrasensory smell and without any of the previous night’s fun or the option to have a morning coffee.

You know what I mean:   You open your eyes.  After a few moments recovering from the blinding rays of sun, you are confused to see your bedroom since you are clearly rocking on a boat in the middle of the ocean.  You sit up.  The room begins a frantic spin.  You lay back down, throwing the sheets over your head and wondering if you might die.

The only thing that eventually pulls you out of the bed is the strong desire to not have to clean up puke from your bedroom floor.

Etc.

Now add the vomit-inducing ability to smell breakfast cooking in a house a half-mile away.

2.  You lose your privacy.

Suddenly, it is other people’s business what you ate for breakfast, how far you ran today, and whether you should carry that laundry basket up the stairs.

I know it is only out of great love and concern, and, truly, I appreciate that.

BUT SERIOUSLY I ATE AS MUCH EGGS AS I COULD BEAR, IT WAS ONLY A COUPLE OF MILES, AND I CAN HANDLE THE 2lb LAUNDRY BASKET.

3.  Your boobs expand to ridiculous proportions.

As someone who since fifth grade has bought bras mainly just to fit in with the normally-endowed girls, this is a little overwhelming.

I have had to acquire an entire new wardrobe just to fairly cover them.   I still don’t know what I am suppose to do with them when I’m running.  And cleavage?  Really?  What do I do with that?

(I realize that most of you will not understand, but I have never had to consider such things.)

3.  You sort of  become your 80-year-old  grandmother.

Extreme hypochondria, the concern over visiting unfamiliar public areas due to the need to pee every 20 minutes, the complete sacrifice of current fashion for the sake of comfort, the excessive fear of car seats that are too low or of being knocked over by strangers at the mall, the need to discuss all of your bodily functions just to make sure a hospital trip isn’t necessary…

4.  Okay, so I theoretically knew this part about pregnancy but omg the baby comes out of there… “naturally?”

Mothers do not get enough props for this accomplishment.

5.  It is possible to be even more of a paranoid freak.

A one minute sample of my current  internal dialogue:

No one told me that tiramisu has alcohol in it!  What?  Raw eggs, too?!?  Is it normal to have second thoughts about this whole pregnancy thing?  Why is my stomach cramping today?  Why is my stomach not cramping today?  Is it possible for my skin to absorb Windex and poison the baby?  I didn’t know this video game included a moving seat!  Is this a pasteurised cheese?  What if a cat snuck into our backyard last night to use the garden as a litter box while carrying Toxoplasma gondii, and after gardening, I unthinkingly put it my mouth and gave my baby Toxoplasmosis? …  and how do I tell this story to my doctor without sounding insane?

6.  If you have a rather petite build, there is a stage of pregnancy called “No, really, this is not a ridiculous beer belly.” 

It’s awkward.  I don’t know what else to say except I am glad that part is over.

7.  People will give you lots of advice.  Some of it is helpful.  Most of it is wrong. 

I know people only do it with the best intentions and from the kindliest of  motives.   That is why I listen, take notes, and immediately check everything said on a legitimate, well-respected pregnancy website.

But please stay away from all pregnancy bulletin boards.  There are people crazier than me on there with much more creativity.

8.  Breast feeding is a learned skill.

Apparently, both mothers and babies need help figuring this one out.

It has been strongly recommended that I take at least one class  (maybe more to be safe) with a lactation expert.

What?!?  Isn’t this something that people have been doing like, always, or something?  Now we need classes?  What has happened to the human race?

Okay, that’s the end of the list.

Now for something completely off topic that I found on the internet recently and wanted to share with you:

Also,  the novel writing competition starts tomorrow, and I have no outline or definite plot ideas.  So, the novel may end up flowing about as well as the last couple sentences of this post.

Just thought I would practice.

Happy Halloween.

For those who do not like to read, a post with photos of pretty things.

This was a special weekend for a couple of reasons.

First, it is Labour Day weekend  (notice the unusual spelling) in New Zealand, meaning a three-day weekend for me and Lawrence.  Woo hoo!

Second, yesterday was a historic day in the world of Rugby.  New Zealand, via their mystical All Blacks, won the World Cup for the first time in twenty-four years.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

The weekend started with a six o’clock news report that Pak ‘N Save* was rolling back its prices on “select” items to what they were in 1987.  This was to commemorate the year in which the All Blacks last won the World Cup.

The sale was for one day only so, of course, Lawrence and I immediately rushed out into the rain, ignoring the  hurricane force winds…

…to join hundreds of others in the quest to buy an inexplicable amount of “select” items such as Coca Cola, cheese, and pistachios.

Friday night was spent watching the Bronze Final between Wales and Australia.  The game was kind of terrible.

But we did, at least, have an excellent masala dosa beforehand at a little Malaysian place on Cuba Street.

Saturday morning began at our new dog sitter’s house.   She had informed me earlier in the week that Brutus’ current collar is illegal in this country…

whoops…

and offered to let us borrow one of her purported anti-pull harnesses.

I can’t really tell a difference except that Brutus now looks like he is wearing suspenders.

We then made our first and much anticipated visit to an Asian market in New Zealand.

After years of dating a Chinese/Taiwanese man, I have developed a taste for things that can usually only be found at Asian markets and which were previously thought of as Really Weird, including oyster sauce, black soy bean milk, and bamboo shoots.

However, this:

remains Really Weird.

It is a type of sour dried prune snack.

Back in Auckland a few months ago, Lawrence’s aunt gave me one for my morning sickness.  I was familiar with them but forgot that they were to be eaten in very tiny bites and shoved the whole thing in my mouth.

I immediately threw up a little bit.

But don’t let the white girl’s mistakes deter you.

Side Note:  Dear Father, if I had taken a job at a big law firm, I would have  most definitely used my excess funds to buy you this amazing wall length fountain.

Be glad, then, that your daughter has decided that she will not be ruled by money.

With a few Asian snacks in tow, Lawrence and I began our 100 km drive north through the Rimutaka ranges to Wairarapa.  This area occupies the south-eastern corner of the North Island, is lightly populated, and is known for its vineyards, lakes, and desolate coastline.

It is also the birthplace of Jemaine Clement,  one half of the comedy band/tv series “Flight of the Conchords.”

If you have no idea what I am talking about, please search for their song “Jenny”  on YouTube now.

Wait, I did it for you.

Lawrence and I had previously driven into the Wairarapa region last weekend to visit a place called Greytown, where we ate at the cutest restaurant ever.

And I stand by this evaluation even though it also contained the most horrifying bathroom ever.

We also saw Stonehenge on that trip.

Instead of paying the $5 admission fee, we snuck photos from behind a fence.

I knew, otherwise, you would not believe me.

Anyway, this time, we drove further north to Masterton, the largest town in the Wairarapa area, known mainly as headquarters of the annual Golden Shears sheep-shearing contest.

We checked into our lovely little hotel,

ate lunch at a nice restaurant downtown,

then headed southeast to Cape Palliser.

Our main companions along those lonely country roads were cows, sheep, and the occasional sheep dog.

We tried playing the Alphabet game.**  It took over an hour.

Cape Palliser is the southernmost point of the North Island…

and home to a unmanned lighthouse…

as well as a permanent fur seal colony.

Side note:  Did you know that when fur seals play with one another they sound like children being tortured?

I didn’t either until that day.

Fur seals are also completely unafraid of people, which made the aforementioned discovery even more creepy.

A small fishing town called Ngawi is situated near Cape Palliser.

At this point, there a few things I should tell you about this region of the world.

First, fishing boats are pushed into and pulled out of the sea on their trailers by bulldozers and tractors.

Second, the locals often do not wear shoes into bars – probably because their boots are too dirty.

(But they do wear socks.)

Third, people live in simple, sometimes crumbling, trailers only meters from the most epic sea I have ever seen,

and, finally, the primary mode of transportation is the four wheeler.

Side Note:  You may remember these spires from Return of the King.  Bet you wouldn’t have guessed that a fishermen trailer park was just a quarter mile away.

We then drove a little ways further down the coast…

…to the fishing village of Lake Ferry.

We ate dinner at the famous Lake Ferry hotel.

It was also the only restaurant in town but no matter.   The place was hopping and the fish and chips were excellent.

We arrived back to our own hotel in Masterton rather late but with enough time to watch Remember the Titans

and Death at a Funeral

with a solid cup of tea.

Note:  Every hotel in New Zealand welcomes you with a cup of milk so that you are able to make a cup of tea or coffee to help you settle in.

The next morning we checked out Queen Elizabeth Park, watched some men climb a tree,

and then drove east to Castlepoint, a small beachside town.

Castlepoint’s name in Maori is Rangiwhakaoma, which translates as ‘where the sky runs.’

Words cannot describe this place, and the photos fail to show you exactly how beautiful it is.

 

Side Note:  Have you ever seen a double beach before?  Well, that is what they call this:

On our return route, we hit the well-known, very popular, and in the middle of nowhere Gladstone Inn.

I had the hamburger and chips.

It was a good choice.

In the parking lot, we saw some very dedicated All Black fans.

Go The All Blacks!!!

We arrived back to Wellington just in time to take a nap before the big game.

Town Hall was showing the game for free.  The Hall was packed to capacity with at least 500 people, and the atmosphere was electric.  We felt like we were at Eden Park ourselves.

To be fair, the All Blacks did not play the best game of their lives, and the French put up an excellent fight,

leading to an extremely tense second half…

as well as murmured death threats against the three French supporters who actually showed up sporting French flags AND who had the audacity to stand up and wave them every time the All Blacks made a wrong move.

But the All Blacks pulled it off…

and hours of Utter Chaos ensued throughout the country.

It was more than pretty cool, and I am sad that the weekend is over.

But I should really quit dragging it out and go to bed.   It is 1 a.m on Tuesday on this side of the world, so the proofreading may be a little more off than normal.

That’s okay.  Just look at the photos.

Good Night/Morning!

* Pak ‘N Save is THE place to shop for discount groceries in New Zealand.

** The Alphabet game is where everyone in the car joins in to find every letter of the alphabet – in order – on signs found along the roadside.  It’s great for passing time or trying to stay awake.