Wednesday, February 01, 2006


Poor, poor Dave.

4 out of 5 nights I make a racket when I’m getting settled into bed. I’m unwieldy and uncomfortable, and I’m not taking it like Gary Cooper.

I get into bed.


I pull my pregnancy pillow up between my legs.


I go to lie on my side.

“Ow. OW. Oh.

I organize the pillows under my head.

“Ow. Mmm! Mmmm. Ow.”

I settle in.

“Oh my god.”

I mean, thank God I’m not both pregnant and an old lady, because it would be intolerable. I’d be like, OH LORD JESUS! JESUS, LET A WOMAN SLEEP. OH DEAR GOD. OH MY BONES. OH HONEY.

So two nights ago, I have my regular “oof” routine going, but this time it is bookended by

Full-on fussiness.

Dave had gone to bed hours before I did, and was sound asleep. When I came in, I stepped in some water that had spilled. And I was like, “I just stepped in something WET! God!” Dave murmured, “Wha?” And I said, “Some water spilled on the floor! What is that?” I stomped off to get a towel and then I stepped on something sharp, and I was like, “FUCK!” And Dave, slightly more awake now, was like “Wha? What?” And I said, “Now I stepped on something SHARP! Goddamnit!” and I reached down to pick it up, oof, and it was just a little piece of plastic, nothing dangerous, but I was like, “It’s this sharp little THING! I’m just…I’ve stepped in enough tonight!”

I wasn’t done.

I got into bed and did the oof oof ugh thing but extra-petulantly, and then my neck and back started hurting, and I started crying, “My neck! My neck hurts! Ow!” and then I realized that the top sheet had been put on sideways, and I was like “GOD, this SHEET is SIDEWAYS!!” Dave was totally awake now, and was like, “What? What? Do you want me to fix it?” and I was like “NO, it’s FINE!”

I want you to know that I realized that I was being a ginormous baby lady. I just couldn’t stop. I tried. I lay there, muffling my weeping under a pillow. And then it hit.


It was like, my neck, my back, my belly, my foot, this sheet….in 10-14 weeks a tiny baby will be out here needing me to take care of it. The dam, already in a bad state of repair, burst. Burst. Buh-urst! Giant-mouthed, Peanuts-style weeping and howling. Poor Dave was trying to ask me what was wrong and I couldn’t tell him. I eventually squeaked out, “I’m afraid,” and went right back to wailing.

Dave sat up and rubbed my back while I howled, and eventually I calmed down enough to sleep.

I hope I’m getting this out of my system.

Dave is a hero.


laura said...

It's nice to know I'm not alone in this! I feel like I'm the only one who cries. It's like every day now. I've gotten so good at it though, I can totally hide it unless someone is looking at me. Well, the mini cries I can hide, like when I hear "I hope you Dance." Isn't it nice to just let it all out?

la Ketch said...

you are also a hero! gosh i do that and i'm NOT with child. sooooo.... you're allowed.

Eve said...

Oh, Tina- let it all out, sister! If there's one thing to get all out of sorts about- it's this. Crazy, but normal.
I promise, it will all be OK- so much MORE than OK!
hugs hugs hugs!

Kris McN said...

OH yeah baby, the pregnancy freak-out. Uh huh! I can smile benevolently because I'M NOT PREGNANT. Lord knows I had more than a few myself when I was. I'd worry if you WEREN'T freaking out every now and then. YOU'RE MAKING A WHOLE NEW PERSON, INSIDE YOUR BODY! What's not to freak out about?

Callie said...

Thank God, I thought I was the only one! Pregnancy - the great equalizer... I never thought I'd be one of those crazy pregnant ladies, but lo and behold!

Don't worry Tina, you aren't alone!

Anonymous said...

I have no idea if I'm going to be a good parent. In fact, several times during this pregnancy I feel like I've gotten incontrovertable proof that I'm NOT going to be a good parent.
I'm completely relying on the fact that I survived my childhood somehow, even though my mom was a lunatic and the other parents around were, shall we say, a bit out of it.

At least Paul and I are plugged in (ie untreated mental illness of a parent is baaaad for children. Access to medical care is gooood for children).

I'm convinced at this point that I'm never actually going to have the baby. That it's just going to stay there forever. And ever. And ever. This would be hard on my back and I'm sure I'd have wicked stretchmarks, but it's the inability to reach to masturbate thats really messing with my mind right now.

Masturbation is a RIGHT not a PRIVILEGE!

I swear if this baby stays more than ten minutes past my due date (2/28). I'm doing an elective C-section on my frickin kitchen floor.

Anonymous said...

One last thing

Something to think about. And really easy to sign up for.