I was hesitant to believe that any solace could be found in the second trimester of this pregnancy, and then I hit my stride. I could eat everything again and no longer feared salsa and onions, as I had in the first trimester. I lost 7 pounds while the baby continued to grow and stay healthy. I got the glow. The rosy cheeks. I wanted sex again, and when I got it, it was as if the hormone gods were rewarding me for the first four months of constant vomiting with what has been 3 straight months of some of the best orgasms of my life. I have come more in my sleep these past 3 months than I have in entire past relationships. I became obviously pregnant, and no longer felt fat, but like a radiant life force. I got enough energy to not only get into work, but to get good at my job again. Notice, this is all written in past tense.
Not one week into the third trimester my ass and thighs, my upper arms, my belly have all ballooned bigger than I could have imagined I would ever get. The XL maternity clothes I bought two months ago (thinking I would grow into them) I over grew, and never even got to wear them. My skin is dry and needy it requires constant moisturizer and exfoliation, which ends in no relief. I can still eat whatever I want, but I have had to stop as I am finding it increasingly difficult to lift my own huge ass in and out of my Explorer. While I can still have sex, and I am lucky enough to have a husband that will sleep with me, it's getting a little weird. The last time I was on top, we finished, and my belly was resting on Dan's when the baby kicked hard enough for Dan to feel it, as if to say, "Why'd you guys stop, you're not going to save any money on my future therapy at this point."
But most of all, the worst part, is the itch. This is one motherfucker of an itch, and I say that now as the mother getting fucked here. I have an itch on my ankles, thighs, and arms that no one can fix for me. There are no welts, no marks, and no trace of why it came or how to get it to leave. My doctor says it is an unavoidable part of pregnancy, my friends say it is stretch marks making themselves know, Dan says it's dry skin. How can I explain this? I stand in the shower at night with the water as hot as I can get it in order to scald the itch and then I just cry. Last night I went to bed at 11:00 p.m. Couldn't sleep because of the itch on my thighs. Went to the bathroom to cover my upper legs in calodryl lotion then out to the couch at 11:51 p.m. I sat there until I drifted off at 12:30a.m. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. scratching the shit out of my ankles and calves in my sleep. My legs were again bleeding. I went to the bathroom, slathered on more calodryl and slept until 6:00 a.m. At 7:00 a.m. I fell back asleep and didn't wake until 10:30 - having had the most fitful dreams of missing a whole day of work. I took a hot shower to wash of all of the calodryl and went to work. This is the kind of itch that will make you cut your wrists. That being said...
I also wobble when I walk a little now. I don't mind it as much as other people seem to notice and point it out to me. "Well aren't you getting big! Just look at the way you're walking!"People begin to look at you differently when they can tell for sure that there is a baby inside of you. It's like when Tom and Jerry were stranded on an island and in his starvation Tom would look at Jerry and Jerry would turn into a big juicy turkey. It is with that same desire complete strangers ogle my belly. It is not that they merely want to touch it, I watch as they use all of their possible body language to express to me their need to touch my belly. As if I would offer. First of all, the kid doesn't move enough for there to be any reason for anyone other than Dan to touch my belly. There is no function to the act. However, I will let friends and family touch me, as if they could be stopped, if only to try to trick them into scratching some part of my body in exchange for letting them rub my belly. I'm like a pregnant version of Buddha, you rub my belly and I will tell you your fortune. You are fortunate enough to get to help scratch my itch. Ta-da! I don't actually need help. I have super strong pregnancy finger nails. I actually tore the upholstery in our truck today with my thumbnail that's like a phalange super power. But if I had that, it would only take me giving one finger to this rash to make it go away.