Feet Like Flippers
So I’m pretty sure the Boy thinks I’m lying when I tell him his son is dancing on my bladder. Seriously, every time he puts his hand on my belly, Thor stops jitterbugging. I’m starting to feel like a fraud when I tell him, because the kid immediately stops what he’s doing. Ah well. Another month or so and I’m hoping his movements will be so visible that the Boy will get his fill of baby-kicks. Me? I’m pretty sure I’ll never get my fill. Love this part.
Don’t, however, love the peeing-part. Ok, granted, I’ve always been one of these women who has a bladder-of-iron. 10 hour plane ride? No problem. I’ll pee when we get home. Driving to Quebec? Not an issue. I’ll wait til we’re there. I had to pee once or twice a night while on progesterone, but the normal “pee all the time” thing that was supposed to hit in the first trimester never really hit me. But now? Third trimester? Holy urine samples, Batman. I spend half my life on the toilet eking out another three drops.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
And as often as not, as soon as I stand up, I realize I could have gone some more. So now I try to psyche my poor bod out before leaving the porcelain throne. “Getting up now. Yep. Getting up and getting out of here. Not coming back to the bathroom for at least another 45 minutes.” Sure enough. Another tinkle. It’s like being a man with prostate trouble.
And of course, since I’m super-hydrating these hot summer days, there’s also the bizarro phenomenon of where does all the water go during daylight hours? Because I’m taking in maybe 2-3 liters of water a day, and I’m peeing out maybe 1/4 liter total. Oh yeah. All that water hangs out in my feet and hands, only getting pissed away at 11pm. and 1am. and 3am. and 5am. But it’s all good. I’m glad my body’s in on the conspiracy to keep BH at bay. Super-duper hydration isn’t the worst thing, I suppose. Even if it does make my feet look like flippers.
So I’m off to my next-to-last day at the Sane Branch with a stopover at the Land of Crazy on my “way home”. Long day on the train for me, so I’ll load up my hypnobabies MP3s and call it a day for meditation. Which might also keep me from twitching to strangle the princess once I’m there. Don’t piss me off, lady, or I swear I’ll occupy your bathroom for HOURS.
ugh. i feel you so. it’s like baby is sitting directly on the bladder dividing it into parts, so that when you’re sitting on the toilet you think you’re done, but you stand up, and the baby moves and you’ve got a whole full bladder to deal with. i will admit that i regularly pee, stand, pee, stand, pee, just to make sure i get it all out. better than schlepping it to the bathroom every 10 minutes.
i’m rocking the swollen tootsies, too. my husband pointed out that i had “muffin top” on my ankles when i was wearing socks the other day. i wish i could say he was wrong.
We are bladder opposites! I’ve always had a “small” bladder, getting up to pee twice a night while not pregnant the past few years. Now that I’m pregnant with triplets? At night it’s every hour and a half. It sucks. A lot. Because I never feel rested. And boy do I ever empathize with the drip, drip, drip. It gets worse as the day progresses. What I read (and has worked for me), is when you think you are done, lean forward and squeeze again. I always manage to get out that much more, and I’ve convinced myself it pushes back the next trip by 15 minutes.
susan, i cannot tell you how much water i drink when i work the brooklyn flea, outdoors. more than half a gallon, easily, and i don’t usually need to use the bathroom till the late afternoon after sitting there all day. sweating.
hey girl, i have been thinking of you
OMG this is so random — I *just* posted something on my blog about the state of my own peeing since giving birth. How these babies mess with our bodies!