In the span of two weeks, I went from wondering, "is that maybe a cute little kick?" to being sure that a team of Romanian gymnasts is vaulting in mah belleh. Dude. The kick-punches are actually kind of rare, but the rolling, turning, twirling, and somersaulting is growing common. Especially at night. Happy happy joy joy.
Now, you say, don't be a Debbie Downer. I should be excited to feel the kid sucker-punching me from the inside. Well, I'm here to dispel the myth that it is always pleasant-feeling. The turning and twisting is particularly uncomfortable, and sweet baby jesus forbid my bladder or other vital organ should get in the way. Also, did this kid, like, triple in size in two weeks or something? Was I bitten by a radioactive spider? I seriously was not even sure last week if those twee little twinges were baby kicks or a fart-in-transit, but there is absolutely no mistaking it now. And the fact that the kid is a night owl is less than awesome. I'm pretty sure last night, s/he tapped (*punched*) out the Morse code message: "Sleep is for suckas."
[sigh] Even the milestones of pregnancy kind of suck for me. The "mind over matter" approach was helping, but sleep deprivation while working full-time while aching and paining daily while feeling nauseous while getting dizzy and while feeling like most people just think you're a pussy is leaving me a little want for comfort. Like a big bowl of ice cream. Except that bolus sugar rushes make me sick. [double sigh] I am going to start being waaaaaaay more insistent with my OB at regular visits that this is NOT normal to feel this shitty every single day, and that there MUST be something we can do to mitigate it. No more "suck-it-up-sweetheart" smirks and nods. Bolus IV fluids? I'll take it. Ambien? It's class B. Something stronger than "bite this knife" for pain relief? Bring it.
I am also thinking very seriously about proposing to my OB that we schedule an induction on or slightly before my due date. My hopes for a "natural" childbirth, since this could be my only experience, are being slashed and burned by the reality that the pregnancy itself is proving to be pretty depleting. If this is knocking me down a rung or seven, what the hell will contractions and labor and delivery do to me? As soon as this kid measures big enough and is in the right position to get birthed, I want to get it on, bang a gong. Sign me up for scheduled induction and an epidural and get this kid out of me. I don't want to be pregnant one day longer than is necessary. That's where I am right now, people. At barely six months. I remind myself every single day, that each passing day brings us a little closer to the finale, and that this will not last forever. But it's not yet more concrete than abstract. If patience is a virtue, I am a bad, bad girl.