Hooray For Stabbing Hoo Hoo Pain!


I know, that’s weird isn’t it?

For anyone out there who’s never been pregnant (or is lucky enough to have never had round ligament pain), I’ll try to explain that title.

See, the second and third month of the pregnancy were full of exhaustion and sever nausea that lasted all day. Also certain smells had me feelingĀ  like I had just entered the bog of eternal stench. You know, like the odor of lavender, paprika potato chips and steamed milk. I also pretty much decided I could live off of cottage cheese, pickles and ginger ale.

And while all of that was indeed rather miserable, it was simultaneously great. Pregnancy symptoms for the win!! Everything was going great as long as I puked once a week and ran gagging from anything lavender-scented (or kicked Piet out of bed if he dared eat paprika chips without brushing his teeth afterwards). It meant that everything was progressing normally and all was well in “Project Create Human Life.”

So now, almost 4 and a half months into things, it’s not that I’m missing all of the first trimester stuff, but since I can’t feel the little turnip kicking me yet, it’s sometimes hard to tell if all is well. That’s the thing. I can’t see it happening, y’know? Until they invent a fool-proof home ultrasound kit for the uber-neurotic (yours truly), there’s no way to really be sure or to simply double-check for peace of mind that yes, the baby is moving around and happily thumping my bladder. In fact, the only way I can tell now is the intense stabbing pains I frequently experience in my hoo hoo. Well, and the less stabbing but still highly painful pain in my hips and lower back. And the leaky bladder that requires the almost daily use of a panty liner.

I know, this is all so sexy, right?

But yeah, pretty much any time I get sort of nervous, wondering when I’ll really definitely feel a kick or if everything is still alright (because the next ultrasound is an excruciating 4 weeks away), I’m soothed by the feeling of someone jabbing my birth canal with a barbecue fork. Because that seems to be the way being a human incubator works.

Extreme discomfort = GOOD

So hooray for that feeling that someone is giving me a fiery purple nerple from Hell and the waking up in the middle of the night feeling like someone is using the jaws of life on my pelvic bone. As long as I’m feeling all those things it means I’ve got a healthy, growing someone who I’ll hopefully feel kicking in a couple of weeks.


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