Hostage

I am the cow in the “Animal’s Angels” against cruelty ad.  The only difference is that I’m not opposed to being shoved around by a forklift to get from point A to point B.

I want my body back!  It is difficult to breathe, you know, with my lungs, stomach, intestines, and other various organs being smushed into my throat.  I waddle down the hall just to go to the bathroom and I’m breathless.  The swelling has gotten so bad that I wake in the middle of the night every 15 minutes to examine my hands because OMG, The Pressure!  They are going to EXPLODE!  Can hands explode???  I don’t remember being so miserable during my other pregnancies, but Mike is quick to remind me that “Oh yes, yes [I was]!”  I can’t eat I’m not supposed to eat anything that’s worth eating.  4th pregnancy… 4th round of gestational diabetes.  I’m on that stupid high protein, low carb diet, that a lot of people are quick to tell me “is not so bad”, “I don’t mind it”, “I eat that way anyway”.  Oh go f*ck yourself, (sorry Tourette’s is also another awful symptom during pregnancy) I’m pregnant and have found this crazy, stupid, obsession with food… buttery, sugary, starchy, greasy, elephant sized portions of food… you know… Man vs. Food kind of food.  I eat until I can’t move without wincing and by the time it finally starts to digest and I can move an inch, I eat some more.  I have no idea why my blood sugar is out of control, nor why my thighs now have their own zip code.  All jokes aside, I’m going to ask my OB this week how she is planning to get a baby out from in between them, since I don’t think it’s physically possible for my inner thighs to separate.  When I went to the dietitian she said, “you can eat as much meat and cheese as you want!  Enjoy!”  She had a smile on her face as though she thought I should be pleased with this news, but instinctively my upper lip curled in horror.  Meat?  Cheese?  What are these things you speak of?  The closest I get to “meat” is a giant bacon covered burger from Five Guys… oh… and it has cheese on it!!!!  Does that count?

So, I curse and I complain and I’m all out miserable.  If when I eat the foods that I want to eat, I swell and a couple hundred fat cells all over my body loosen their belts.  If I try to stick to the diet, my swelling reduces and I can walk without seeing the walls shake and hearing sound effects, but I’m angry… Jack Nicholson “Here’s Johnny!” kind of angry.  To make matters worse, 1/1,000,000,000th of what goes in my body actually makes its way out.  There is an entire, wasteland inside me somewhere (probably in my throat hanging out with my lungs and all of the other organs) and I can’t tell you how great that feels.

Also, I have a plethora of these giant uber-awesome age spots that have popped up here there and everywhere.  My cheeks and the skin under my eyes have now slid down my face and flop like under-cooked scrambled eggs somewhere down my neck.  Now that I mention it… pregnancy just seems to make the throat/neck area a popular gathering place.  To make matters worse, pregnancy has also made me anemic, so the dark circles under my eyes and the age spots are only magnified by my almost translucent pasty white skin.

To summarize:  Like, Fat Bastard, I’m damn-sexy!  *looking at belly* Yes, I want you to be healthy and perfect…

but Holy Hell… get out!  GET OUT!  G-E-T!!!!  O-U-T!!!!!!!  I want my body back!!!

Tags: age spots, anemia, diet, discomfort, gestational diabeties, hunger, pregnancy