MC – The Hammer

‘Yay for babies.?
That’s what my mom says if I complain about pregnancy symptoms and side effects. Yes, pregnancy is nothing short of a miracle, but know what else is a miracle? Women are actually willing to go through it more than once.
Forgive my cynicism, but I’ve been pregnant for 34 weeks, so I feel I have some authority to grumble. Not only am I ready to be done with pregnancy discomforts, but I want to meet the boy who’s been baking in there so badly I could burst. Indeed, yay for babies. Not, yay for pregnancy.
Before I got pregnant, I was in love with those beach ball bellies and women walking around with their hands on their middles like they were communing with the little people inside, Kurt Vonnegut a la ‘Cat’s Cradle? style.
Now, having one of those beach balls of my own, the love turned into something more like awe and respect. Pregnancy does crazy things to your body that no one warns you about! Not all of the symptoms are bad. Some are weird and some are just plain cool, like feeling the baby roll around in there.
I imagined symptoms were limited to a few days of morning sickness, heartburn, back ache and a little water retention. Was I ever wrong.
Did you know your belly button could hurt? I didn’t, but it sure can. The stretching around week 20 made my belly button feel as if something were poking it with pins from the inside. And did you know that you could develop restless leg syndrome? As if falling asleep isn’t hard enough with a bowling ball strapped to your middle. Then there’s morning sickness. The term is a joke. I had it 24 hours a day for five months and some women have it for all 40 weeks.
The list goes on: Stuffy nose, different hair texture and color, loose and stretchy ligaments, leg cramps, for getfulness, breathlessness, insomnia, blotchy skin and darker freckles and birth marks. I’m sure there are weirder symptoms out there ? this is just my own list.
Here’s something I learned from all those pregnancy books: by midway through the pregnancy, your body has 40 to 50 percent more blood surging through it and you’ve gained between 25 and 35 pounds, on average. That means your heart and lungs have to work super hard to keep up. How exhausting!
But here’s the best part: Selective memory. It’s not a pregnancy symptom so much as a postpartum occurrence. Every mother I’ve talked to says they simply forget unhappy pregnancy symptoms once the baby comes. Or at least minimize them. ‘Five months of throwing up? That wasn’t so bad.? ‘Not being able to breathe? I don’t remember that at all.?
So, for the next four or five weeks, I’ll lament the miracle that is pregnancy and then celebrate the wonderful part of my brain that lets me forget.
Yay for babies.

Most people know I’m a yooper (from the Upper Peninsula). I talk about that fact all the time. I love being outside, I miss camping in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes I need my Lake Superior fix so badly I make the ten-hour round trip just to spend a few hours on its shores.
I’m still getting used to metro-Detroit’s ‘busy-ness? and sheer number of people here.
But let me tell you, I have never been so thrilled to see I-75, I-94 and all that glorious asphalt as I was Dec. 21. And I mean thrilled. That’s when my husband and I touched down at DTW after a whirlwind circle tour of the Mediterranean for our honeymoon and a weather-delayed return home.
That’s not to say our trip wasn’t amazing. It was. I shopped in Barcelona, strolled through ruins in Rome, had afternoon tea in a Turkish village, rode a camel in Cairo and toured Malta’s largest island on horseback. The memories and photos we have are priceless.
But what’s even better is the appreciation I have for living here after having experienced truly foreign countries. Yeah, I’ve been to Canada and the Caribbean, but those don’t count. They’re totally ‘Western.?
I felt about a million miles from home when standing yards from the Great Pyramid listening to Muslim callers announce the time for prayer. And equally far away when walking cobblestoned lanes in Turkey where dogs and donkeys own the streets as much as human pedestrians.
Here, we don’t have to scrub our hands raw in fear of catching gastro enteritis. We don’t have to wear kevlar’ed backpacks so thieves don’t cut the straps and run away with passports, money and any hope of returning home. We aren’t bombarded by elementary-age children tearfully offering souvenirs in one hand and ruthlessly pick-pocketing with the other.
We’re safe.
Did you know that the unemployment rate in Turkey is around 25 percent? Or that in Egypt, the government charges a higher tax on completed houses, so residents live in half-finished buildings to avoid paying more? Or that in Greece, people regularly set loose dogs and cats after they out-grow the cute puppy/kitty stage so that they roam free all over public areas?
For all my complaining about corporate America and entitled Americans, I’m safe here. The US is clean and protected, relatively speaking.
Our honeymoon was the adventure of a lifetime. I knocked off a big chunk of many people’s ‘bucket lists? in one fell swoop.
But man, I’m glad to be back.