Belly Laughs... and belly laughs

My friend Julie let me borrow her book Belly Laughs back in December when she and her husband Mike first learned about Baby Z2B.
Belly Laughs is a must, Julie said about Jenny McCarthy's hysterical look into the truth about pregnancy.

I have read it in bits and pieces as I get a few lounging minutes on the couch these past few months. Last night, I read the last half of it in one sitting as Scott napped near me.

To say it was funny would be an understatement; as would be saying it's brutally honest.

It's like a collection of inside jokes that you just "get" and only get to share with the women who were there. I mean... blue twinkies?! (Google it if you're desperate and/or pregnant. Ignore it if you are wise and unwed). And Julie, we are soooo talking about poop one of these days.

I most especially loved hearing her perspective about labor and her delivery day -- a tough one to be sure, with some scary moments. But at the end of the book, it was just pure love and joy over what she called the best job of all: mommyhood.

I HIGHLY recommend this book to any soon-to-be mommy.

Ohhhh the chapters I could add.
Like the one about how belly laughs are absolutely different when when you're five months pregnant. You try holding it in on the phone with a friend because a hardcore, all-out laugh sends 23 different organs in various directions and makes baby decide to start training for a marathon.

Then there would be MANY chapters about "down there" and how I can't even see it anymore when I stand up. I'm lucky that I can still shave up to about my knees... but only if I take breaks every 30 seconds in the shower.

You've heard about the cravings before.
They've increased. In volume and absurdity. Tuna sounds amazing right now, straight out of the can. Also, a root beer float. And a steak. Last weekend, I swerved across traffic and waited in the drive-thru line for 20 minutes so that I could get a Sausage McMuffin and an orange juice. My first desired thing of orange juice in my entire life. Now it's all I want to drink.

Then there's the emotions. Compared to other stories I've heard and witnessed, I'm not doing so badly in this department, especially considering the fact that I am usually a very emotional, sensitive person. I'm OK now, just don't mess with my schedule or my food supply. And please don't put a sad commercial on TV. (And by sad I include beer commercials, dandruff ads and Sandals Resorts promos.)

Then there are the negatives... like the spastic muscle cramps and aches I felt up and down my legs last night... when I woke up every hour. I have a footstool at my desk that is my lifesaver, and luckily I don't have to do too much walking around for my job.

All in all, it would be an interesting book.
There are a few chapters that I don't think would make it to print.
But if I could express this whole experience in just a few words, it would be simple: I love it. Every aching muscle and unsatisfied craving that brings me to tears of frustration. I love becoming a mother a little more day by day and I can't stop daydreaming about the handsome son nestled up in a warm safe place that's always close to me.