The new bane of my existence

There are many things in life making me rather miserable at the moment, i’m sure you could think of a few off the top of your head just from what i’ve written about in previous posts. A lot of them i’ve just learned to deal with, live with, ignore.. but one is new. One I did not miss from my previous pregnancy, and is making everything hard to do.


It sounds simple, right? Just bend. Everyone can do it (unless you have some sort of metal rod in your back or something like that). It’s needed to pick things up off the ground like toys that are going to break your neck that have been strewn all over the living room.. and hallway.. and kitchen.. or to pick up a screaming toddler because he’s once again caught his finger in a drawer or dropped a toy on his foot.. Or to get a pot out of the lower cabinet. All things that in normal circumstances should be easy.

When you’re pregnant, the bigger your belly gets, the more impossible it becomes to do any of those simple tasks. I’ve tried to stay pretty limber with stretching and exersizing, but nothing can make a big ol’ belly full of baby easier to bend around.
It’s sort of like taking one of those huge inflatable rubber balls you see locked in cages at Wal-Mart, super glueing it to your abdomen and trying to bend around it. It might have a little bit of give, but there’s only so much it will squish before you find resistance. Only instead of it being filled with air and made of rubber, it’s your own flesh and skin stretched around a baby that doesn’t exactly like to be squished while you want to do any of these things. Not to mention it hurts.
I’ve found that when I try to bend, baby likes to kick me harder than usual- and in not so fun places to be kicked.. like the cervix. Nothing like feeling as though a foot is going to come popping out of your snatch any time you need to pick something up off of the floor. Or his new favorite- trying to burst out from under my bellybutton.
I already have a weird aversion to anyone touching my bellybutton. It’s just weird. It feels weird, and I have this odd fear that if someone pokes it too hard, things will come spilling out of me. Add that to it looking VERY thin and flat right now and totally creeping me out, and a baby kicking as HARD as he can underneath of it whenever I do something he doesn’t agree with.. and I almost never want to bend over again.

Unfortunately there’s just no way to get around it- and I KNOW i’m not just going to stop getting huge at 26 weeks, so it’s only going to get more uncomfortable and more difficult to try and reach anything below waist level. I remember popping Holden out and bending down to get something for the first time (after the stitches weren’t making life hell) and being overwhelmed with joy because it didn’t hurt or take 5 minutes to do. I can’t wait for that feeling again.
I’ve already given up on painting my toenails. They look pretty damn hideous right now. There’s just no way in hell I can not only bend over to paint them, but stay bent long enough to paint 10 of them without looking like I did it with my teeth.. or an oversized paintbrush.

If only I could get Thomas to paint them like he did when I was pregnant with Holden… hint hint hint…

Posted on July 6, 2009 by Holdin' Holden 3 Comments
Holdin' Holden

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  • ahhh… the first time you bend over after having a baby. Like the first time you lay on your stomach or back after having a baby. Such amazing experiences. It’s like drowing and then finding the air again, lol!! Can’t wait to clean up my front room for the first time after J’s born!

  • not to be confused with the first poop after baby- which is a terrifying and NOT so satisfying experience!!

  • I would tell you to bend at the knees, thinking that this would be an easier experience, but I can only imagine the strain that it would place on your thighs. Enough of those a day, however, might have you develop extremely strong legs.

    I fear the helicopter experience happening again. It happened to Holden yesterday, he stepped right on it, and away he went.