gina and timmy goes to white castle

everyone has heard of Murphy's Law: if anything can go wrong, it will. this law, as simple as it may read, pretty much sums up the way the world works. forget Socrates or Aristotle, or any other dead Greek wonders, this Murphy dude was indeed the greatest thinker of all times. a demigod for all the pessimists around the world, if you will.

not that i have the hubris to think that i could come up with anything so profound, but these past few weeks of pregnancy has inspired me to come up with Gina's Law of Pregnancy: just when you thought it was physically impossible to get any fatter, uglier, and more uncomfortable -- you inevitably do.

how come nobody told me that i would actually grow out of some of my maternity clothes? i've begrudgingly spent a tiny fortune on pants with elastic waistbands and shirts that look like various colored pup tents and i don't even get the extreme displeasure of wearing them to the glorious end. currently, the only thing that fits me well are timmy's clothes. and even the waistline of his boxers are feeling a little snug. i live in my husband's tshirts, boxers, and don't tell him but sometimes i sneak into his closet to see what else of his wardrobe i can wear comfortably. to my dismay, his belt fits my waist now--and not only that but i buckle it where HE buckles it and it's too tight!! with 50 some days remaining until my due date, i'm not so happy at the prospect of having to purchase another maternity outfit.

recently one day during my lunch hour at work, i wavered my resolve and walked into an over priced "MiMi's maternity" store where i saw a wave of bright colored spring dresses. i thought that perhaps treating myself to a cute bright colored dress might revive my spirits so i tried on a $85 dress on sale that the salesperson insisted would look "simply darling" on me. as i looked at myself in the mirror, i couldn't help but ponder "what decision maker in the maternity fashion world decided that ultra bright colors are flattering on sphere shaped women"? the design may work on inflatable beach balls, but it doesn't work on pregnant bellies. i swear that i looked like a giant easter egg with hair. i waddled out of the store feeling a bit disturbed. and yet, no matter where i am, people are invariably telling me how "small" i am! i'm afraid i may go helter skelter if one more person tells me this.

in addition to dressing like a pregnant bag lady while at home, my hair has become so unmanageable that i've got a perpetual bump in the middle of my hair from having it tied up in a pony tail 24/7. my ankles are beginning to swell, and i itch like a person that hasn't showered in weeks. my confident strides has transformed into the waddle of an 80 year old woman with osteoporosis and now my nose seems to have plumped up if you can believe that. i try to take some consolation in the fact that i haven't developed a single stretch mark, yet my skin has suffered in numerous other ways. dry itchy spots, a pronounced linea nigra, and my forehead is sprouting out peach fuzz.

at this point, a beauty regimen just seems fruitless and daunting. as a result my daily facial regimen has slipped a little... okay, pretty much a lot. i rarely desire to put on any makeup anymore -- what's the point of looking good from the neck up? and i don't know if any other pregnant women have had the pleasure of the "double take" from men, but i have and i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i've noticed that a guy will initially check me out, then suddenly do a double take, notice that i'm a giant pregnant lady and hastily walk away with a horrified look stenciled in his face. it's a real ego booster.

plus i don't have it bad enough to be fat and aesthetically challenged because i am also more uncomfortable than ever. i have a perpetual sinus problem. nothing to be of concern or debilitating, but just a constant state of congestion that prohibits me from being able to breathe through my nose. i must sound like a total perv while on the phone with all the heavy mouth breathing i have to do to prevent from passing out. my husband constantly asks why i keep wheezing at night and tries to cover me with blankets in fear that i am catching a cold. but my body temperature has also risen so i keep kicking off his kind gesture. and repeat. throughout the night. poor husband.

once in awhile i'll have an intense muscle spasm where the socket of my thigh joins my pelvis. the only thing i can do is to yelp and try to massage it out. sometimes tim is startled when i yelp and furiously massage my cramp out but at least we're in the privacy of our own home. what really sucks is when this happens at work. by no means am i thrilled about having to grab my crotch in front of my co-workers so instead, i just drag my lame leg behind me towards the nearest chair or private corner. i can just imagine what i must look like-- crippled over, hair bound up in an unruly ponytail, dragging my leg, and breathing heavily. only thing i can think of is an image of Igor, Dr. Frankenstein's lab assistant. sometimes i catch a glimpse of my reflection and am promptly discusted with myself.

none of these discomforts aids in a good night's sleep. i am up every 2 hours going to the bathroom. you wouldn't believe how much energy i expend just to flip from side to side while in bed, desperate for a moment of comfort. i know that i really shouldn't complain, and that holding a one-woman pity party is pathetic, since i have so much to be grateful for. just ask any woman who is on bed rest or suffering from any number of pregnancy complications. i have it better than lots of other women and i'm in the home stretch. yet according to Gina's Law of Pregnancy, it could still get worse -- after all, there are 2 more months to go before my due date! at least i have timothy, my doting husband who will drive to White Castle at 3 in the morning to curb my past midnight hamburger cravings.