Down South Is a No Entry Zone!

If pregnancy were a book they would cut the last two chapters.

Don't touch me! Don’t come near me! Let’s just cuddle...

Can these three phrases sound anymore appropriate for the way I have been feeling these past few weeks?

So far, my pregnancy had been pretty ‘uneventful’. Definition of this word? Full of no events – and I guess we should never speak to soon. I am now in my 30th week and counting down, hoping for a more uplifting and enjoyable few weeks ahead. Week 28 and 29 were BRUTAL, to say the least. I went for a blood test and discovered I have Pregnancy Anemia. Apparently, this is pretty common and only means I need to double up on my iron intake, more meat and more green veggies. So, that’s exactly what I have been doing. Watch…my next appointment, I will be told my cholesterol is too high and I need to slow down on the ‘red meat’ intake.

Next came my infamous bout of contractions. Everyone kept telling me they’re normal. How could I be the judge? I’ve never been pregnant before. Do ‘normal’ contractions make you crouch to the ground wishing you could pull your hair out and bang your self onto a wall? Do 'normal' contractions make you want to call 911 as a burning sensation takes over your entire body? Do 'normal' contractions make the mom-to-be yelp in an agonizing cry? Well, I didn’t think so. After finding blood in my pee, the doctor was able to detect a Urinary Tract infection gone undetected. U-N-D-E-T-E-C-T-E-D! My first thought was “HOW could this be undetected? You’re my doctor; you should have detected this from long before. Rather than telling me my contractions were normal, you should have detected the agony in my voice. The concerned look on my face was a sure giveaway these contractions couldn’t be normal. Isn’t it YOUR job to DETECT such things DOC?”

Luckily, we caught it early enough where the infection hadn’t spread to my kidneys, now that could’ve been a call for disaster, bringing on early labor and major complications. In any case, I am on new vitamins, antibiotics and of course a pill to help stop the contractions - since apparently that is what they were, caused by the infection, yikes, I have a lot to look forward to in a couple of months – EPIDURAL PLEASE (with an extra shot of Demerol and Morphine).

The story doesn’t end here.

After taking the antibiotics for a few days, I noticed I was red, swollen and a bit itchy down below. Hmmm, why is all this extra fluid leaking out? Yep, you guessed it right ladies, the antibiotics caused a lovely Yeast Infection. I've never had one before, and I don’t wish one upon my worst enemy (ok, maybe my worst enemy can suck it up and suffer for a few days!) So, I called the doctor (yet again) with my sulking voice and ‘I feel so bad for constantly bothering you’ tone – wondering if he can tell his cell number is on our speed dial. I told him about my recent ‘southern discovery’ along with my new friend ‘hemmie’ that cordially invited himself to make an appearance on my ass. He gave me the name of a medication to ‘insert’…and told me to drink Metamucil for my buddy ‘hemmie’. Oh, but wait a second, “I am not constipated!” I told the doctor. To which he responded “Ah, then, ‘hemmie’ most likely showed up cause the pressure of your uterus is pushing down on your rectal nerves.” RECTAL NERVES?? Who knew they even existed? I sure didn’t.

Luckily, the story ends here. I have been walking around like a tortured penguin for the past 3 days, wearing nothing but comfy cotton grandma undies and sweats. So long to my thong days….feeling sexy has definitely been thrown out the window. My husbands response to all this? “Thank goodness we didn’t have sex, can you imagine if I caught your infection!” GOD FORBID! Maybe a dose of itching powder in his workout shorts will teach him a lesson or two!

I have to admit, he has been very supportive and trying to help the best he knows how. I on the other hand have been a grouchy bitch walking around (like a penguin) miserable and annoyed. While V goes to the gym with his friends….I sit here on my painful ass, waiting for the day to come where my little guy will finally be here, laying in my arms, while I try and start to feel normal again. I have also come to the realization, although pregnancy IS a team effort, no matter how much endeavor the father puts forth, the mother is still the one who sacrifices the most – physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and socially.

Just think…..

If men were equally at risk from this condition (pregnancy) - if they knew their bellies might swell as if they were suffering from end-stage cirrhosis, that they would have to go nearly a year without a stiff drink, a cigarette, or even an aspirin, that they would be subject to fainting spells and unable to fight their way onto commuter trains - then I am sure that pregnancy would be classified as a sexually transmitted disease and abortions would be no more controversial than emergency appendectomies. ~Barbara Ehrenreich