To Feel the Curve of a Back

Some thoughts on the last few weeks of pregnancy.

This was going to be a longer post, but as we all know it’s summer! I’m finishing up my last work assignment and taking a writing class while also trying to prepare for a new baby to be born and be a mom! There is only so much time. I don’t want to keep talking about an inconsistent posting schedule so just know that I’m going to be inconsistent for the time being.

---

As I near the end of this pregnancy, I’ve been thinking about the physical aspects of it and how they sometimes compete - one I’ll miss and one I won’t. Here are some of those thoughts:

To Feel the Curve of a Back

Throughout this pregnancy, I’ve been concerned that this baby moves too much. There have been days where it’s near constant for hours. Or moments where it’s almost like she’s startled or having a spasm and will erratically hammer her little hands and feet against the inside of my belly in short, forceful bursts (every time this happens, Despite all my rage I’m still just a rat in a cage, plays in my head).

I’ll ask myself, did I have too much caffeine? Is this indicative of what she’s going to be like? Wild? Restless? Will she stick her head out the window of a moving car on the PCH just to feel the wind in her hair? Stand on a freeway overpass and flash the people below? (Probably, hopefully.) But daddy I love him??? My O.B. tells me every baby has their own movement baseline and it’s normal. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. (Tough for someone who sprints to what. it. all. means!)

Then, for two days I didn’t feel her as much. I got concerned. I paced around my living room after my son was asleep. Called my husband who was out of town, then called the O.B. on call. She told me to eat something sweet so I sat on the couch and ate an ice cream sandwich and waited. Sure enough, within a few minutes the sugar rush got her going again. I let out a sigh of relief and told my husband I wouldn’t be going to the ER. Worry is commonplace when you’re carrying such precious cargo and as I’ve said before, during my first pregnancy, I worried a lot.

Sally Mann, Jenny and Leslie, 8 Months Pregnant, (1983-1985)

For the most part, I’ve largely been at ease during this pregnancy and that’s allowed me to live in wonder a little bit more. To marvel at the sheer mindfuck that is growing another human and still going to get your tea at the coffee shop and to work and having your nails done. An elbow (or a fist! Or a knee!) will slowly draw a line across the center of my belly and I’ll think: nothing is more amazing than this. Every little jab, flutter and roll, at first so strange and then, what I look forward to feeling most. An unspoken language. I’m here. My husband put his hand on my belly the other night and said, “Whoa, why is this hard?” “I think that’s the curve of her back.” To feel the curve of a back!

I can be standing on any street corner and see driverless cars or a food delivery robot with LED eyes that blink. The world is moving at lightning speed. Yet, here I am doing the work we’ve done for hundreds of millions of years - building blood vessels, bone and muscle from my own flesh.

Pelvic Pain!

I have pelvic girdle pain. A decidedly unsexy name for something decidedly unsexy. I was supposed to start pelvic floor therapy at least a month ago, but I didn’t. Instead I made it worse by walking around Beverly Hills in jelly flip flops for hours one Saturday with a belly the size of a beach ball. I carried my three-year-old around for much of that afternoon, too. So in addition to the pelvic issue, the left side of my lower back has seized into what feels like one big, tight fist. By the time I got home, all I could do was hobble and Google the deep ache in my pubic bone that’s persisted for the last two weeks. The pain gets worse when I squat, get in and out of the car, change positions in bed or walk a lot. Basically, it’s unavoidable.

Louise Bourgeois, Pregnant Woman, 2008.

One of the remedies for pelvic girdle pain is to keep your legs glued together during movement transitions. Every time I get out of the car I try to envision that I’m wearing a pencil skirt and then I sort of slide off the seat (I drive an SUV) like I’m a kid in a dress-up mermaid tail entering the pool. I’m reminded of the power poses people do in order to hype themselves up before a big meeting or something, standing with a puffed chest and your hands on your hips. Considering I’ve never been so aware of keeping my legs together in my life (I’m not even remotely trying to be cheeky here) and that it’s such a traditionally feminine pre-occupation, I wonder if it’s having an effect on my psyche in the same way a power pose does. If one day I’ll suddenly start whispering, “Happy Birthday Mr. President,” into my unsuspecting husband’s ear while he mindlessly scrolls on the couch or develop a penchant for red roses.

I’m also not supposed to stand on one foot and when I put pants on, I have to sit down. Sometimes I wear one of those belly belts around my hips but its just been so hot (!) that I’d prefer to not add a case of swamp ass to my list of maladies. I am humbled.

---

I’m hoping to get one more Mom’s World in before I officially become a mom of two and beyond that we’ll see! Hope everyone is having a beautiful weekend and thriving in A/C.

xx

C