Hormonal Cocktail (Part 2)

2nd Trimester

Just when I was resigning to the fact that this, nauseous, emotionally unstable, straight out of a high drama movie me is probably who I am now; comes the bright, sun shiney 2nd trimester. The books and the theory were right! It was a glorious time! Body, hormones and I had amicably acclimatized to each other and were singing songs. Body was in the pin-up, ready for pregnancy shoot, cutely bumpy phase and all was well again. One just recommends pregnancy to everyone in this phase, because it is so beautiful. Free from the teething in of the first 3 months and far from the reality of the last few months.

Representing a Fire Engine Truck

Days were good: eat well, exercise, walk, stay happy, socialize, read sensible stuff, listen to Mozart, Bach and Kirtans, (ok fine, rock music.. but it was soft rock) take multi-vits and pray. And repeat. Everyday. And if you're very adventurous, take an out of town trip as well!

When you can't play Paint Ball... because, apparently its no fun to aim at a pregnant woman. Plus, I was a slow moving easy target.

Even the 7th month whizzed pass on some of the afterglow from the 2nd trimester but the 8th month was relentless. 
At times I would be crazy-ass angry on something so trivial that the last remaining logical part of my brain would reason with the hormone laced part. I'd recognize how tiny the issue was and try and be Gandhi about it, but the other half of my brain (which was more in charge right now) would be like a raging bull on adrenaline, looking for a fight, lashing out some inane trash talk (you wanna fight?! lets fight! come on!! Are you scared??!!). 
On other days, I was gloomy. Like when summer holidays are about to end and homework isn't done, like when you overslept in the afternoon and it is dusk when you wake up, like when you just can’t find someone to share an apple pie and you don’t want the calorie guilt of an entire pie, like when you form a mental picture of how awesome you'd look in a dress you ordered online but in reality you look like a plump potato, like when you keep planning on Goa trips and they never happen, (you get the picture?). The nasty, grey gloom engulfs like an uncomfortable hug from a creepy person and you can’t shrug it off. It makes you wanna curl up with a soft toy even if you are not a soft toy kind of a person.

Upset at being 'left all alone' while being admitted at the hospital. Only a pimple to give me company. SMH

When the chemistry of pregnancy took a back seat (read, hormones), the physics came into play (read, center of gravity and such). By the last lap, the 9th month, I couldn't remember life without the bump.  Like really, no bump? Wearing something and finding it loose on you, what was that like? Getting up after sitting on the floor, without assistance or without applied knowledge of gravitational physics? And when you do get up, none of the the trippy dizzy postural hypotension? No endless trips to the washroom? I could paint my toe nails? Scratch my ankles? How must it feel to walk 500 meters without being breathless? Or what was it like to sleep on my tummy or even my back? Or turning to a side without waking up and consciously executing it? Or not having a constant back ache or exhausted feet? 

When the physical unpleasantness leaves you free, the mind starts with its games. Random thoughts cross your mind: Elephants are pregnant for TWO whole years? MAN they’re strong; those lady-elephants. Just imagine how bloody boring would it be- ‘so what’re you doing for New Years this year, Sammy? Pregnant. Next year? Still pregnant. Ok then (awkward silence).’

At the time, the best thing was to vent it out with fellow pregnant women. Only we could understand each other. The whole other world just didn't get the minor nuances of a glorious pot belly. It was only with them that one could secretly confess the botheration, without the fear of judgement and being a wimp about a temporary condition.  Apart from being excited about meeting the baby, one would secretly rejoice about 'the bump having completed its purpose'. Or lets just say 'Yay! Congratulations on becoming a mother... and being DONE with the pregnancy!' I'm just going to roll over and sleeeeeep on my 

tummy. Like the way God intended it!