Thanks to the Juneathon, I’ve been feeling less like a lump these days. It was just the inspiration and motivation I needed to get moving again.
Since about 28 weeks, I haven’t been able to run or wog (walk/jog) and I’ve downgraded to walking, but even still there are good and bad walking days. On good days I can walk and complete a ton of tasks around the house. On bad days, I can barely move and when I do attempt to walk, I have to cradle my belly for fear that my uterus may fall out if I don’t.
And as if the fear of losing my uterus wasn’t enough, there are times when I feel like Dr. Kane with an alien life form trying to burst through my gut…
…because apparently Baby Run DMT #3 likes to stretch his feet against my sciatica and push his back against my stomach. Perhaps with all the prenatal yoga I’ve been doing, I’ve inadvertently taught him yoga in utero. Truly he’s learned yoga through osmosis because his downward dog makes me want to scream mercy.
Although mentally I feel less like a lump, physically my big ol’ baby bump looks more like a big ol’ lump. On the surface, you can see a hard lump across my abdomen and this solid, hard mass pulls people in like a giant magical glowing orb. No one can resist my precious and they simply have to touch it. Groping and prodding the lump forces Baby Run DMT #3 to switch positions and pretty soon there’s an elbow or a knee scraping across my belly.
Lump’s sudden and painful repositioning causes me to cry out every time.
Ow! OwOwOw! Owwwww!
Whenever his two big sisters hear me howl from the pain of an elbow jab or alien belly burst from Baby Brother, they howl with laughter and their beautifully evil laughter makes me giggle which I believe causes Baby Boy to giggle too. Oh yeah. My pain is a real gut busting, knee slapper for him. Good times.
This giggly kickboxing yoga loving lump better not get too comfortable in there.