Its time to start counting the other way now. Basically I have, give or take, eight weeks to go. Where have the last six gone, or rather where have I gone for the last six? Toronto for two, the island for a couple weekends and I have no idea where the rest of the time has gone. I can assure you that I have not been spending my days researching products or scanning the aisles at Babies R Us, there has been little of that done. I have occasionally been known to pick up a book, we don't have cable so my life has not been absorbed by typical media outlets, instead I have been admiring the beautiful city that we are so lucky to live in. Cheese, I know. But seriously, for those of you who have not had the chance, please check out Vancouver in the Spring or Summer. Its worth the extra hike in plane fare, this time of year is the reason we all live here.
My pelvis has been hurting. It feels like it is broken. I may have mentioned this earlier, because this started around the fifth or sixth month. At first it was a mild aching after runs, then suddenly I felt like I had actually fractured the exact centre of my pubic bone and that I would never walk again. I want to put my hands on my privates and hold them together when I am walking, because they feel like they are going to yank apart at any moment. Apparently, this syndrome is called Pubic Symphisis Diastisis, an unusually wide gap between the two pubic bones. Feel free to read more
here. So despite the fact that I can no longer run, walk the dog, or exercise in most manners, I still have been very very busy with this issue. I have been to physios, massage therapists, doctors, midwives and even to the dreaded chiropractors. Its not that I have any disrespect for chiros, because until recently I had never been. However, I do disagree with those who have to go to a chiro a few times a week for the rest of their life. I do not desire or respect this dependance. And after three very short and very expensive trips to a prenatal chiro in Vancouver, and three appointments being scheduled without my consent, I called it quits. Her manipulations were helpful for the rest of that day, but she told me nothing about helping myself or preventing the misalignment from returning. She was the saviour and she refused to empower me, the only way I would be saved would be if I returned to her for another session. I don't want a quick fix, but I do want to feel that the $60 I am handing over is worth it. And after a five minute session, I felt like I had just had my purse snatched.
Did I mention that I have a belly now? Its massive and I don't want it to get any bigger. Well I do, but I don't. You see, I am in some ways, a typical female. I want to remain svelte and fit, and not get big and lumpy. Thats normal right? But somehow, for ten months of my life I am supposed to be able to easily switch into the mindset that bigger is better. Not a bigger ass, not bigger arms or cankles or anything, but bigger belly. I am supposed to feel good when people say "look how big your belly is!", because a big baby (within reason), is a healthy baby. But its still hard to wrap my mind around, and my immediate reaction. I am trying to adjust my facial reactions from a squinched up disgusting face to one of pride and pleasure when the words: big or massive are dropped in my direction. The same goes for when I am told "You've grown so much!" I am 26 years old, I don't want to grow. I haven't grown since I was fourteen and I hated when people noticed then. Can't we all just pretend this isn't happening. My beautiful babe will be in arm in less than two months (I hope), so until then can I just cruise through without the show and tell of my bigger parts?
