As my ass is getting bigger something really bizarre is happening. It is something that started during the summer but until now I didn't put two and two together. Listen this, for some reason, men feel attracted by pregnant women.
I was three months pregnant and I already had to buy new bras. We were going out and I felt just a little chubby and unattractive but, strangely enough, from all my gorgeous friends I was the only one that picked up a guy that night. Of course he ran like hell the moment he was informed about me and my little alien inside but needless to say, it cheered me up.
I haven't been going out that much lately, since I feel guilty when I force my fetus to hear crappy loud music, but two weeks ago there was a customer party that I needed to attend and when the guys got drunk someone felt the need to make some comment about my shape. It was as polite as you can be when you talk about a future mother, but graphic enough.
During that party I was still wearing my normal, slightly big clothes. Now that is not possible anymore. It is urgent and mandatory to visit a maternity shop and get some pants that can fit this enormous ass. So, I was walking all these curves in another party this weekend with the occasion of Martin's birthday and when the alcohol level got high in the room, Martin's friends also got descriptive.
"You look SO hot!!" "God, you look so, so hot!!" "Jesus, I had to tell you, you look so hot!" Hot? Beyonce is hot. I'm shorter and wider and I have belly. I'm the opposite of hot.
Anyway, what is it? Is it a prehistoric switch that tells them I'm fertile and activates something weird in their brains? Is it just too many starving models around? Or am I surrendered by fetishists?
Pregnancy symptoms: It is not really a symptom, but the moment of elastic waists have come
Mother instinct: The fetus is kicking like he is high on sugar… which is very possible, since I need chocolate every day. I'm a terrible mother, I cannot give me more than 3.
lunes, 29 de noviembre de 2010
jueves, 18 de noviembre de 2010
So many months in denial
I would need to start talking about the Czech health care system, which makes me sad. If I can summarize what I think about it with one example, the latest, here it is: The main star is this doctor, who replaces my usual gynecologist (a lovely woman from a private insurance that unfortunately has been on leave most of my pregnancy).
After messing around with my papers for a while, claiming that I am not his usual patient and after going through the usual revision, he puts some piece of sheet with results of tests in front of my nose. “Do you have this?” “No, I say, taking a brief look”. He then goes on to blame me because I didn't bring copies of all my papers, which forces him to browse through my folder, suggests that I stay home for a week if I have any kind of discomfort, and stands up to say bye, but my eyes are fixed on the test results.
-What does this mean?
-It means high risk of neuronal tube defects…
-What the fuck??!!!!
-It is not so accurate test… some clinics don't do it. It's a Travant.
-But this looks worrying. Should I worry?
-I don't know. You have to ask the genetics clinic. Maybe amniocentesis, maybe not… I don't know. Have a nice day.
-But…
-I don't know
So Martin and I have spent a week basically panicking, searching in google, panicking again, understanding how the fucking test works and what are really the odds of something going wrong to get finally to the appointment in the genetics clinic and find out there is nothing wrong with the baby besides the high dosis of stress that I imposed into it over the week.
The thing is, that during that horror I realized I probably could not kill it, even if there is something wrong. It moves, you know. It has five little fingers in each hand and it sucks its thumb. I am not sure I could kill it, even if it would be morally understandable. And that's why we bought baby shoes. That horrible worry, that sense of responsibility, that neurosis, that thinking I could not kill it even if it would probably kill me… I guess we finally understood that we are having a baby.
After messing around with my papers for a while, claiming that I am not his usual patient and after going through the usual revision, he puts some piece of sheet with results of tests in front of my nose. “Do you have this?” “No, I say, taking a brief look”. He then goes on to blame me because I didn't bring copies of all my papers, which forces him to browse through my folder, suggests that I stay home for a week if I have any kind of discomfort, and stands up to say bye, but my eyes are fixed on the test results.
-What does this mean?
-It means high risk of neuronal tube defects…
-What the fuck??!!!!
-It is not so accurate test… some clinics don't do it. It's a Travant.
-But this looks worrying. Should I worry?
-I don't know. You have to ask the genetics clinic. Maybe amniocentesis, maybe not… I don't know. Have a nice day.
-But…
-I don't know
So Martin and I have spent a week basically panicking, searching in google, panicking again, understanding how the fucking test works and what are really the odds of something going wrong to get finally to the appointment in the genetics clinic and find out there is nothing wrong with the baby besides the high dosis of stress that I imposed into it over the week.
The thing is, that during that horror I realized I probably could not kill it, even if there is something wrong. It moves, you know. It has five little fingers in each hand and it sucks its thumb. I am not sure I could kill it, even if it would be morally understandable. And that's why we bought baby shoes. That horrible worry, that sense of responsibility, that neurosis, that thinking I could not kill it even if it would probably kill me… I guess we finally understood that we are having a baby.
lunes, 15 de noviembre de 2010
Tiny fluffy reindeer shoes
Yesterday Martin and I went into a baby shop and bought a pair of reindeer baby shoes. They are soooo cute. The baby will be born in March and the Christmas motives will look a bit outdated, or plain stupid, but it doesn't matter. They are sooooo cute.
When we first came into the shop Martin felt a bit out of place. Honestly, me too, but once the engineer instinct kicked in from the inside of both of us we enjoyed quite a lot. It was quite refreshing to find out that behind the pink and blue fluffy baby dresses, the magic world of pregnancy shops is full of gadgets and advanced technology.
First of all Martin explored the toys section and played with most of the playable items on display while I was trying to figure out the mechanism of a portable bathtub. I amazed myself studying all the different types of containers where you can store a baby and Martin compared prices of baby trolleys with the same enthusiasm as he would compare the engines of Skoda Octavias.
We both concluded what our friends already told us. The baby industry is a mafia that exploits the fact that tiny clothes with bunny ears are incredibly cute and that nobody should have to pay ten euros for ten cubic centimeters of stuffed animal. Not even for stuffed animal in the shape of reindeer shoes.
And one could wonder, what the heck were we doing in a baby shop anyway? I will tell more tomorrow.
Pregnancy Symptoms: I felt like chestnuts and partner didn't provide. It is not a symptom, but I want to record the fact here in case I need to use it later on. I have bad memory
Mother instinct:I bought reindeer fluffy shoes for the baby. That surely earned me a four
When we first came into the shop Martin felt a bit out of place. Honestly, me too, but once the engineer instinct kicked in from the inside of both of us we enjoyed quite a lot. It was quite refreshing to find out that behind the pink and blue fluffy baby dresses, the magic world of pregnancy shops is full of gadgets and advanced technology.
First of all Martin explored the toys section and played with most of the playable items on display while I was trying to figure out the mechanism of a portable bathtub. I amazed myself studying all the different types of containers where you can store a baby and Martin compared prices of baby trolleys with the same enthusiasm as he would compare the engines of Skoda Octavias.
We both concluded what our friends already told us. The baby industry is a mafia that exploits the fact that tiny clothes with bunny ears are incredibly cute and that nobody should have to pay ten euros for ten cubic centimeters of stuffed animal. Not even for stuffed animal in the shape of reindeer shoes.
And one could wonder, what the heck were we doing in a baby shop anyway? I will tell more tomorrow.
Pregnancy Symptoms: I felt like chestnuts and partner didn't provide. It is not a symptom, but I want to record the fact here in case I need to use it later on. I have bad memory
Mother instinct:I bought reindeer fluffy shoes for the baby. That surely earned me a four
jueves, 11 de noviembre de 2010
It moves... but it feels like trapped air
One of the less publicized side effects of the magic world of pregnancy is the fact that your belly is suddenly a mixture of baby, water, some extra blood… and air.
The digestive system apparently gets slower, and that means that as you get less and less sexy you fart more and more (it is not for getting strawberries at four a.m. that you need a loving, caring partner during pregnancy). Of course this is all accompanied by strange noises and movements going on under your skin.
So, in this situation, Martin comes and asks, you know, the fetus of my friend Ondrej is already moving! We should start feeling it too. Do you feel it? And he places a hand over stretched skin, placenta, fetus, water and moving bowels. Maybe, I answer… and he looks like me being incapable to distinguish baby kicks from gas has to do with my lack of maternal instinct.
Later the doctor asks again, "do you feel it moving?". "Probably…" I answer. It is either some tiny alien body kicking from the inside or yesterday’s chicken panner tikka. And he looks at me guessing again that I don’t have any maternal instinct and writes "movement +/-" in my maternity card.
At least that gives me an alternative answer to “do you feel it moving?” “plus minus” I will answer. And I will smile.
Pregnancy Symptoms: Big belly full of gas
Mother instinct:Pffff
The digestive system apparently gets slower, and that means that as you get less and less sexy you fart more and more (it is not for getting strawberries at four a.m. that you need a loving, caring partner during pregnancy). Of course this is all accompanied by strange noises and movements going on under your skin.
So, in this situation, Martin comes and asks, you know, the fetus of my friend Ondrej is already moving! We should start feeling it too. Do you feel it? And he places a hand over stretched skin, placenta, fetus, water and moving bowels. Maybe, I answer… and he looks like me being incapable to distinguish baby kicks from gas has to do with my lack of maternal instinct.
Later the doctor asks again, "do you feel it moving?". "Probably…" I answer. It is either some tiny alien body kicking from the inside or yesterday’s chicken panner tikka. And he looks at me guessing again that I don’t have any maternal instinct and writes "movement +/-" in my maternity card.
At least that gives me an alternative answer to “do you feel it moving?” “plus minus” I will answer. And I will smile.
Pregnancy Symptoms: Big belly full of gas
Mother instinct:Pffff
domingo, 7 de noviembre de 2010
Letting go of trousers
It's around week twenty now and I'm slowly coping with the fact that my winter trousers just won't fit anymore. Neither the summer ones. We spent a few days in Canary Islands and the only thing I could wear was a pair of "boyfriend cut" jeans.
Since I refuse to buy maternity clothes so soon, I'm happily embracing the fashion of XXL T-shirts, leggings and these dresses that fall loose under the breast. This is not the proper business attire, mind you, but nobody in the office has complained so far.
In fact, although my belly is not big enough yet for anybody to conclude that I'm pregnant, guys in the office has started looking at me a little bit differently. They say hi and immediately the eyes move in the direction of my belly. Just the same thing that happens when you are showing too much cleavage. One movement of the pupils down and up. The whole thing lasts just a second and I dare to say it is probably almost unconscious. Only now, they are passing over the cleavage all together and going directly to my belly button.
And that is a bit strange, taking into account that the only pregnancy thing I really needed to buy so far is a set of new, enormous, maternity bras.
Pregnancy Symptoms: Getting the shape of a prehistoric virgin.
Mother instinct: Nah. I suppose my body didn't fabricate the right hormones yet. Can they be bought somewhere?
Since I refuse to buy maternity clothes so soon, I'm happily embracing the fashion of XXL T-shirts, leggings and these dresses that fall loose under the breast. This is not the proper business attire, mind you, but nobody in the office has complained so far.
In fact, although my belly is not big enough yet for anybody to conclude that I'm pregnant, guys in the office has started looking at me a little bit differently. They say hi and immediately the eyes move in the direction of my belly. Just the same thing that happens when you are showing too much cleavage. One movement of the pupils down and up. The whole thing lasts just a second and I dare to say it is probably almost unconscious. Only now, they are passing over the cleavage all together and going directly to my belly button.
And that is a bit strange, taking into account that the only pregnancy thing I really needed to buy so far is a set of new, enormous, maternity bras.
Pregnancy Symptoms: Getting the shape of a prehistoric virgin.
Mother instinct: Nah. I suppose my body didn't fabricate the right hormones yet. Can they be bought somewhere?
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