Dec 30, 2002

That’s what the wife is: uncomfortable. She’s uncomfortable standing,
uncomfortable sitting, and, most of all, uncomfortable sleeping.

The ninth month of pregnancy is slightly unkind to a woman’s body.
Her balance is all out of whack. The bellyTM peers freely at the ground;
it’s now the only thing that can see her feet. A teaspoon of salt
results in an inflatable doll. Ever see one of those massive #1
Styrofoam hands at a football game? I can get one in my living
room by just passing the wife some chips. Stomach crunches are things
she used to do in the good old days. A sound night’s sleep is but
a distant memory.

I try to help. I really do (note to self: taking her to the 3 hour
showing of
The Two Towers
would not be a good example). The other
day I formed the “mountain of pillows”, a feeble attempt at
providing relief in bed. I rub her back occasionally (like during hour 2
of The Two Towers). I comfort her in other ways.
I remind her how great she is. I assure
her that we’ve only a month to go (as in “Yikes! Only a month left!
What have we got ourselves into?”).
I try not to run screaming from the house during the more than
Braxton Hicks
contraction. I remind her what adults often do at night
by sleeping blissfully by her side as she wakes to visit the bathroom
once again.

She ran by the hospital today for a quick check up and ended up staying
for a while. They hooked her to machines and added the contraction
contraption to her bellyTM just to make sure everything is ok.
She laid in a bed and listened to the beautiful sound of the baby’s
heart beat for hours. Thankfully, everything was fine. It was an
uneventful day for her and a slightly nervous one for the father-to-be on the
other end of the phone.

The countdown officially begins tomorrow: one month to go. I’m
quite proud of how the wife has handled the burden. The cute little
bellyTM is a badge of courage. She doesn’t complain much, even as the
simple things become more and more difficult. She’s a trooper and
I suppose that’s just how it should be. In 30 days, her own comfort
will be the furthest thing from her mind.

by | Categories: family |

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One Response so far | Have Your Say!

  1. Tina
    December 30th, 2002 at 11:04 pm #

    Go, Jen! We’re rooting for you here in the home stretch!

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