The Final Countdown
I'm four weeks away from my due date and I feel like I've been pregnant for years.
It first started feeling like an eternity about a week ago, when I developed a rash across my growing belly that made me look like a cherry flavored gummy bear. The rash has since vanished, and in its place are my reptilian hands. The skin on my palms and feet is falling off in layers. I've been trying to wear the white cotton gloves that are meant to return the moisture back into my palms, but instead I feel like a Michael Jackson wannabe stuck in the wrong decade.
And it gets worse....hearing about life in the outside world. That's the world where all my friends are going out, getting hammered, and having a great time, while I'm at home sucking down lemonades and watching Seinfeld reruns.
Which brings me to Sunday morning....
"OhMiGOd! You have NO idea what you missed last night!!!!" Lilly is practically screaming into the phone. "It was Insane- I was SO drunk- oh wait- EVERYONE was sooo drunk..."
I think about how much I miss alcohol. It's been forever since I've had a decent buzz.
Lilly continues "Daphne was bombed, Megan was trashed, Victoria could barely stand up.....it was absolutely hilarious....I can't believe I got home alive!"
"Where were you? What were you guys drinking?" I ask. I feel like I live on a total other planet I'm so out of the loop right now.
"At J Bar, there was this HUGE party. They were pouring free champagne....EVERYONE was there. Paul, Steve, Dan, Dave- your Dave...."
I can't get close enough to the phone right now....."Really? Hot Dave was there? Was he with anyone?"
Hot Dave is a guy I met a year ago. He's also known as my imaginary boyfriend. I'm secretly in love with him although I've only talked to him once or twice. I'm convinced we are meant to be together in another life. I'm also convinced the less I see him, the more perfect he becomes in my mind.
"Oh yeah, he was there. He asked about you. And no, he wasn't with anyone." Lilly answers.
Being 8 months pregnant is equivalent to being in a social coma.
"Please tell me you didn't mention I'm about a thousand pounds right now, and ready to give birth to another man's baby..." I plead. Truthfully, I don't know why I care. Hot Dave knows I'm married and totally unavailable.
"Of course not!" Lilly says "I told him you were out of town. It sounds very mysterious."
"Awesome. " And for some reason it feels like the complete truth.
"So anyway," Lilly continues "I kissed a guy at the bar, and gave another guy my phone number. And ready for this....I found out later they were roommates!!!!" I can hear Lilly almost choking from laughter on the other end of the phone.
"It gets better..." she howls, "Daphne had a 10 minute long conversation with a guy she met at the bar, before he told her that her blouse was wide open! And Victoria told some guy she'd love to have dinner with him sometime, and he responded that they had already been out on a date together- twice!"
At this point I would give my right breast to have been there. (that's right, my much needed future breast....) I think I can't wait to have a night out with the girls. I can't wait for this 35 pound bowling ball to be gone from my waist.
Yet, I can't say I'm ready to be a mother yet either. The options right now are looking bleak.
1) Continue to walk around looking like the 10th planet...or
2) Give birth, and be responsible for a tiny life that I've created.
Lilly can hear my silence on the other end of the phone.
"Don't worry Jan, you'll be back out with everyone in no time."
"Yeah, I know," I say, but I'm not sure I really believe it.
In addition to being worried about becoming a parent, I'm also worried my life as I know it is over. That Saturday nights will always consist of me sitting on the sofa with a lemonade and Seinfeld reruns, or maybe baby barf on my shirt, instead of out having a glass of wine while telling a great story to a bunch of friends.
It first started feeling like an eternity about a week ago, when I developed a rash across my growing belly that made me look like a cherry flavored gummy bear. The rash has since vanished, and in its place are my reptilian hands. The skin on my palms and feet is falling off in layers. I've been trying to wear the white cotton gloves that are meant to return the moisture back into my palms, but instead I feel like a Michael Jackson wannabe stuck in the wrong decade.
And it gets worse....hearing about life in the outside world. That's the world where all my friends are going out, getting hammered, and having a great time, while I'm at home sucking down lemonades and watching Seinfeld reruns.
Which brings me to Sunday morning....
"OhMiGOd! You have NO idea what you missed last night!!!!" Lilly is practically screaming into the phone. "It was Insane- I was SO drunk- oh wait- EVERYONE was sooo drunk..."
I think about how much I miss alcohol. It's been forever since I've had a decent buzz.
Lilly continues "Daphne was bombed, Megan was trashed, Victoria could barely stand up.....it was absolutely hilarious....I can't believe I got home alive!"
"Where were you? What were you guys drinking?" I ask. I feel like I live on a total other planet I'm so out of the loop right now.
"At J Bar, there was this HUGE party. They were pouring free champagne....EVERYONE was there. Paul, Steve, Dan, Dave- your Dave...."
I can't get close enough to the phone right now....."Really? Hot Dave was there? Was he with anyone?"
Hot Dave is a guy I met a year ago. He's also known as my imaginary boyfriend. I'm secretly in love with him although I've only talked to him once or twice. I'm convinced we are meant to be together in another life. I'm also convinced the less I see him, the more perfect he becomes in my mind.
"Oh yeah, he was there. He asked about you. And no, he wasn't with anyone." Lilly answers.
Being 8 months pregnant is equivalent to being in a social coma.
"Please tell me you didn't mention I'm about a thousand pounds right now, and ready to give birth to another man's baby..." I plead. Truthfully, I don't know why I care. Hot Dave knows I'm married and totally unavailable.
"Of course not!" Lilly says "I told him you were out of town. It sounds very mysterious."
"Awesome. " And for some reason it feels like the complete truth.
"So anyway," Lilly continues "I kissed a guy at the bar, and gave another guy my phone number. And ready for this....I found out later they were roommates!!!!" I can hear Lilly almost choking from laughter on the other end of the phone.
"It gets better..." she howls, "Daphne had a 10 minute long conversation with a guy she met at the bar, before he told her that her blouse was wide open! And Victoria told some guy she'd love to have dinner with him sometime, and he responded that they had already been out on a date together- twice!"
At this point I would give my right breast to have been there. (that's right, my much needed future breast....) I think I can't wait to have a night out with the girls. I can't wait for this 35 pound bowling ball to be gone from my waist.
Yet, I can't say I'm ready to be a mother yet either. The options right now are looking bleak.
1) Continue to walk around looking like the 10th planet...or
2) Give birth, and be responsible for a tiny life that I've created.
Lilly can hear my silence on the other end of the phone.
"Don't worry Jan, you'll be back out with everyone in no time."
"Yeah, I know," I say, but I'm not sure I really believe it.
In addition to being worried about becoming a parent, I'm also worried my life as I know it is over. That Saturday nights will always consist of me sitting on the sofa with a lemonade and Seinfeld reruns, or maybe baby barf on my shirt, instead of out having a glass of wine while telling a great story to a bunch of friends.
posted by Jan32 at 1:21 PM
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