Monster Belly

As my due date approaches, my midsection gets stretched to its limits.

By Meagan Francis

I'm in my 35th week of pregnancy, and suddenly, I'm absolutely huge.

Remember my belly post from a couple months ago? l Ah, how silly I was being: that was nothing. My middle has now taken on a life of its own, threatening to send me toppling over if I momentarily lose my balance and making it impossible for me to roll over in bed. Or bend down and tie my shoes. Or shave my legs. Okay, I can do all these things if I really have to, but with the gymnastics I have to put my body through to pull any of it off, I'd rather not.  And I'm just going to get bigger.

As if the belly's sheer size wasn't remarkable enough, there's the fact that this baby rolls around in there like she's practicing to be an Olympic-level synchronized swimmer. Strangers give me looks of alarm as my entire midsection twitches, jumps, and rolls from side to side. Sometimes she punches or kicks me repeatedly in the same place, a little lump jabbing me and making my shirt jump up and down. Sometimes I can watch a knee or elbow (painfully) make its way from one side of my belly to the other. Most days I half-expect to see the profile of a face pressed against my abdomen, or to see the words LET ME OUT etched into my skin like a scene from a horror movie.

So far I've avoided developing any new stretch marks--my body appears to be just re-using the million I already have. Good news. But even so, my skin has a raw, sensitive feeling, and the fact that all my clothes fit snugly against it isn't helping. By the time 5:00 or 6:00 PM rolls around, I have an almost-irresistible urge to tear the "comfort" (ha!) panel out of my maternity pants or, better yet, go pants-free. This urge is difficult to overcome even when I'm out in public, as I recently learned the hard way at the grocery store. I apologize to anyone I may have disturbed as I walked red-faced through the freezer section, yanking at my belly panel and muttering under my breath. (For the record, I was able to keep my pants on until after I got home and put away the groceries.)

As you can probably imagine, my floor has seen better days. Now, when something falls on the ground, it generally stays there until I can recruit somebody else to pick it up.  On the rare occasion that I do make the long, arduous journey to the floor, I usually try to make it count. "While I'm down here, does anyone need their toenails clipped or anything?" I've been known to say to my kids. Sometimes I just crawl around to clean up; it's easier than bending over more than once.

In a couple months, this belly will again be a fading memory, replaced by an actual, live baby who may or may not turn out to be a skilled acrobat. But while it's a pain living with it, I know I'll miss it just the same. 

Except for the feat of determination it takes to haul this cumbersome body out of the bed to make yet another middle-of-the-night bathroom trip.

I love a lot of things about pregnancy, but that is something I know I won't miss.

I love a lot of things about pregnancy, but that is something I know I won't miss.