So, this will be a short because the little man in my tummy (that would sound odd in any other circumstance...kind of makes you picture a creepy leprechaun) is wreaking havoc on my thought process today. It all started a couple of weeks ago when he first started to move around and I'd get the occasional flutter or 'gas bubble' feeling everyone tells you about. Word to the wise, if you don't know what gas feels like at age 30 and you can't figure out the difference between your baby and your intestinal by-product, we should chat. I digress, so his movements finally become noticable and then, like everything else he does, he kicks it into supernova for me. It wasn't that bad at first, just a jab here and a head roll there that would make me giggle and daydream about the little bugger. I started feeling this weird rolling sensation and had to ultrasound simultaneously (of course) to prove that yes, he's in there doing front flips and side rolls. It's the most palpable when he's doing the front flip and, as if he heard my silent prayers that this move be banned from inter-utero play, this has become his chosen manuever every two to three minutes or so...all day long. I thought babies were like cats and slept anywhere from 18-22 hours per day, but who am I kidding, all my spawn will be special.
This incessant gymnastics practice wouldn't be an issue if his incubator didn't have the initial attention span of a two month old cockerspaniel, but with all this increased activity, his hyperactive tush can stop me mid-sentence like a sighting of a half-dressed RPattz. Most of the time I can cover and figure out what I was talking about and get back on track. I would not be telling the truth if I said that I haven't had to ask a patient 'what was that you just said?' a few times, but only once, 'what were you saying?' Not 'what were you saying' because I didn't hear you, but 'what were you saying' so you can jog my memory as to the topic we were even discussing before I departed for baby lala land. Having baby on the brain has only brought me close to asking a man how the breastfeeding was going once...so far.
As much as I can cover with my patients, my friends and family know me too well. Apparently when you're already used to me behaving as if I have untreated ADHD and it gets significantly worse, it's your duty to point this out and laugh at every possible instance. I have literally stopped in mid-conversation to gaze away/out the window/basically anywhere that could give the signal 'I couldn't give a rats what your saying' which people tend to notice, take personally, and then the pointing and laughing begin. I mean come on. Pregnancy brain only works when you're cute and pregnant. Not in that in between stage when you just look like you've been sneaking daily trips to McDonalds and the bakery for the past few months. All I can say is hopefully it doesn't get worse over the next 20 weeks. Or at least hopefully my BMI will increase to the point where people feel sorry for me and no one likes to call a fat girl dumb or flighty. It's like kicking a three legged dog. Just not cool.
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