Nope, this isn't real.
Neither is this one. I actually don't have any pregnancy photos still on the computer. Hallelujah! So, I'm improvising at 11:00 at night....
A few days ago, after celebrating my son’s first birthday, I was having a terrifying flashback of my last pregnancy.
Pregnancy and I go together as well as Britney Spears and morals.
I usually don’t get very big during my pregnancies, however, baby #4 really did a number on me. I actually grew out of my maternity clothes. I grew out of my ‘ghastly’ maternity pants! (That word was for my friend’s benefit. I love how she uses the word ‘ghastly’ in sentences.)
Pregnancy and I go together as well as Britney Spears and morals.
I usually don’t get very big during my pregnancies, however, baby #4 really did a number on me. I actually grew out of my maternity clothes. I grew out of my ‘ghastly’ maternity pants! (That word was for my friend’s benefit. I love how she uses the word ‘ghastly’ in sentences.)
When you grow out of your maternity pants, what can you wear? I will let your imagination wander, because whatever you envision, is probably better than what I actually wore.
Like most pregnant women, I had my cravings. After 8 months of constant throwing up- my ninth month was bliss. (That’s when the nausea began to fade.) My eight month ‘barf-up-anything-on-an-empty-stomach-even-when-I-THOUGHT-of-food’ diet turned me into a ‘HuNGry HiPpO’ in my last month of pregnancy, and I ate anything and everything in sight.
I’m surprised I didn’t eat the dog. Okay- that would be gross…and the kids would cry….and I don’t do hairballs…and…I’m vegetarian…and the direction of this random thought is beginning to make me nauseated…
I gained almost 35 pounds in one month. Who does that?
(Ah come on, if you were deprived of food for 8 months, I would like to see you resist the urge to binge)
My equilibrium was off, and I swear the car leaned to one side when we drove anywhere. It’s embarrassing when you can say you wore out the tires on your car, but only to one side…
I gained weight in the oddest places. The ankles, the elbows, the cheeks...(yes to both)… I was retaining water like a SoDa PoP can left in the freezer.
I was SO big- they didn’t bother to use ultrasounds on me.
N-o-p-e.
They brought out their sonar equipment. (The equipment reserved for the REALLY, REALLY big gals.) It was actually dusty from sitting so long between uses. It was not exactly ‘whale-used’ equipment. (Oh those homophones! Instead of well-used, ‘WHALE-used’- Ha Ha! Sorry. I get a pathetic kick out of myself sometimes…)
I almost cried when they confirmed for the hundredth time that I had only ONE child in that distended and ridiculously inflated tummy of mine.
Like most pregnant women, I had my cravings. After 8 months of constant throwing up- my ninth month was bliss. (That’s when the nausea began to fade.) My eight month ‘barf-up-anything-on-an-empty-stomach-even-when-I-THOUGHT-of-food’ diet turned me into a ‘HuNGry HiPpO’ in my last month of pregnancy, and I ate anything and everything in sight.
I’m surprised I didn’t eat the dog. Okay- that would be gross…and the kids would cry….and I don’t do hairballs…and…I’m vegetarian…and the direction of this random thought is beginning to make me nauseated…
I gained almost 35 pounds in one month. Who does that?
(Ah come on, if you were deprived of food for 8 months, I would like to see you resist the urge to binge)
My equilibrium was off, and I swear the car leaned to one side when we drove anywhere. It’s embarrassing when you can say you wore out the tires on your car, but only to one side…
I gained weight in the oddest places. The ankles, the elbows, the cheeks...(yes to both)… I was retaining water like a SoDa PoP can left in the freezer.
I was SO big- they didn’t bother to use ultrasounds on me.
N-o-p-e.
They brought out their sonar equipment. (The equipment reserved for the REALLY, REALLY big gals.) It was actually dusty from sitting so long between uses. It was not exactly ‘whale-used’ equipment. (Oh those homophones! Instead of well-used, ‘WHALE-used’- Ha Ha! Sorry. I get a pathetic kick out of myself sometimes…)
I almost cried when they confirmed for the hundredth time that I had only ONE child in that distended and ridiculously inflated tummy of mine.
I was convinced I was pregnant with a nation.
I then realized that the black cherry ice cream I had been craving wasn’t doing me any favors.
Stupid pregnancy cravings….
My mind continued to torment me with memories of going to the hospital to have our baby. The nurse put in the IV and then- she developed a severe case of AmNeSiA and left it in my arm even AFTER I had the baby…and many hours after that….and hours after that…
When you are hooked up to an IV for over a 24 hour period, do you know what you look like? This isn’t 20 questions. I looked like Jaba the Hut.
When you are THAT large, the weight puts stress on your voice box. When I laughed, I sounded just. like. him. (My double chins wobbled and bumped into each other)
You remember those Star Wars scenes with Jaba the Hut, right?
He says: “icona hekshn sham tu vagha jiuhs nishe tu abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvqxyz” (I actually have no idea what he was saying) but I think it was, “I am the future Camryn Hartle nine months pregnant.” And then he laughed, “HAAA HAAA HAAA!” in deep octaves that sounded like a quartet of tenors being squeezed to death.
I invite you to go back in time with me – go watch the movie and you’ll have a good insight into what I looked like.
So- the day I was released from the hospital, I was excited to finally be in the comfort of my own home. I went to my room to put on my PJs…
That was a very dark moment for me.
Post partum depression hit me like-
“What did it hit you like, Camryn?”
“Like a ton of bricks!”
“You are so ingenious with these word phrases”
“Thank you”
Back to the story…Okay-I could NOT get my pajamas on. No matter how hard I wriggled, groaned and twisted, none of my pajamas fit! So I proceeded to race through my closet trying to find ANYTHING that would fit. NOTHING did.
That’s when my husband found me...
Post-pregnancy hormones had assaulted me and I was curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, sobbing and throwing soap bars at the mirror. “What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly worried. (I had only been home for half an hour)
“I ca-can’t f-fit into m-my clothes!” I wailed hysterically.
He glanced around the bathroom and noticed that my closet had relocated to the bathroom floor. All around me were mangled jeans and he picked up the pair closest to him. “Of course you can’t fit into your jeans yet, honey. Duh!” He was trying to lighten the mood but it only triggered another round of crying hysterics.
“MY MATERNITY JEANS!!!” I hollered, throwing a loofah sponge at him.
“Ouch…” he said. (Not to the loofah sponge…my husband isn’t a woosie…)
He finally realized that ALL the clothes on the floor were maternity clothes. He encouraged me to try them on- again. So, I proceeded to give him a horrific fashion show of all the clothes that wouldn’t fit. Frantic to plug the river I was drowning him in, he went to grab his clothes to see if I could fit into his- and that. made. it. worse.
I couldn’t fit into HIS clothes either. I was doomed to be an IV fatty.
After trying on everything, (I even tried on Halloween costumes) I realized, mama had to get a little creative with her wardrobe.
After two days being pumped full of IV fluid and still retaining water like a distorted water BaLLoon, I desperately needed to be clothed. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I then realized that the black cherry ice cream I had been craving wasn’t doing me any favors.
Stupid pregnancy cravings….
My mind continued to torment me with memories of going to the hospital to have our baby. The nurse put in the IV and then- she developed a severe case of AmNeSiA and left it in my arm even AFTER I had the baby…and many hours after that….and hours after that…
When you are hooked up to an IV for over a 24 hour period, do you know what you look like? This isn’t 20 questions. I looked like Jaba the Hut.
When you are THAT large, the weight puts stress on your voice box. When I laughed, I sounded just. like. him. (My double chins wobbled and bumped into each other)
You remember those Star Wars scenes with Jaba the Hut, right?
He says: “icona hekshn sham tu vagha jiuhs nishe tu abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvqxyz” (I actually have no idea what he was saying) but I think it was, “I am the future Camryn Hartle nine months pregnant.” And then he laughed, “HAAA HAAA HAAA!” in deep octaves that sounded like a quartet of tenors being squeezed to death.
I invite you to go back in time with me – go watch the movie and you’ll have a good insight into what I looked like.
So- the day I was released from the hospital, I was excited to finally be in the comfort of my own home. I went to my room to put on my PJs…
That was a very dark moment for me.
Post partum depression hit me like-
“What did it hit you like, Camryn?”
“Like a ton of bricks!”
“You are so ingenious with these word phrases”
“Thank you”
Back to the story…Okay-I could NOT get my pajamas on. No matter how hard I wriggled, groaned and twisted, none of my pajamas fit! So I proceeded to race through my closet trying to find ANYTHING that would fit. NOTHING did.
That’s when my husband found me...
Post-pregnancy hormones had assaulted me and I was curled up in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, sobbing and throwing soap bars at the mirror. “What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly worried. (I had only been home for half an hour)
“I ca-can’t f-fit into m-my clothes!” I wailed hysterically.
He glanced around the bathroom and noticed that my closet had relocated to the bathroom floor. All around me were mangled jeans and he picked up the pair closest to him. “Of course you can’t fit into your jeans yet, honey. Duh!” He was trying to lighten the mood but it only triggered another round of crying hysterics.
“MY MATERNITY JEANS!!!” I hollered, throwing a loofah sponge at him.
“Ouch…” he said. (Not to the loofah sponge…my husband isn’t a woosie…)
He finally realized that ALL the clothes on the floor were maternity clothes. He encouraged me to try them on- again. So, I proceeded to give him a horrific fashion show of all the clothes that wouldn’t fit. Frantic to plug the river I was drowning him in, he went to grab his clothes to see if I could fit into his- and that. made. it. worse.
I couldn’t fit into HIS clothes either. I was doomed to be an IV fatty.
After trying on everything, (I even tried on Halloween costumes) I realized, mama had to get a little creative with her wardrobe.
After two days being pumped full of IV fluid and still retaining water like a distorted water BaLLoon, I desperately needed to be clothed. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I pulled off my bed sheets.
In a Ralph Lauren nightmare, I wrapped them around me and made a homemade toga. I had nothing other than craft rope and ribbons to tie around my waist (I had no belts that would fit me) to ‘hold up’ my ugly Caesar clothes.
It’s a good thing bed sheets are ‘one size fits all’.
Finally done! All I needed was a pizza box so I could say, “pizza pizza!”
When I came down the stairs, I will never forget the looks on my family’s faces. It was the first time I had ever left them speechless.
I don’t regret the drastic measures I took finding something to wear during the next two weeks of my swollen state. But I do have one regret…
After a few days of wearing bed sheets and landing on the cover of Vogue’s
‘Fashion Fauxpaus’ – I was forced to find alternative covering (so I could wash my sheets) and thereby, ended up using my kid’s blankies to cover myself.
That’s where my regret stems from.
I feel for them. I really do. In a 9 month expanse, their ‘mommy’ had transformed into Jaba the Hut who ate Caesar Augustus, who then decided to clothe himself in his unfashionable 250 thread count cheap sheets, and then proceeded to make his living selling pizza on the corner…who then stole their kid’s comfort blankies to wash their ‘chic’ robes of Ralph Lauren’s newest line ‘Jaba the Sumo’.
Poor kids….they never looked at their blankies the same way again…
“HAAA HAAA HAAA!!!”
8 comments:
oh honey, I feel for ya! although not quite so bad, when you have a opps the water just broke and we have to get these guys out now moment, that iv shoved into you by means of a pressure cuff, draining, not dripping into you - well, lets just say the clothes i came home in weren't the ones i had intended to wear, and shoes? i don't think you can actually call those grotesque things on the end of your legs feet at that point... i wonder if anyone but a new mom could understand the horrific feeling of leaving the hospital more rounded than when you entered it?! thank heavens we get over it, but that first week after is the worst! i wish you had pics of the toga, i laughed so hard! i guess that's one way of getting around to washing the sheets... thanks for the laughs today, i really needed it!
Okay, I thought you were teasing about the toga til I read Jills comment. OH BOY! I got sick a week after Jake was born and I went into the Dr, and they weighed me. I was very curious how much I had lost. I should be at least 7 lbs 6 ounces lighter right? NO!! I weighed MORE! WHATHECRAP? Water weight I guess, but still. I cried.
lol
That was a good one. I have tears running down my cheeks.
And yes I did see you at the end of your pregnancy and NO you did not look big. Though I didn't see you after with the "ghastly" toga look.
Just to assure those who are skeptical, THIS WAS A REAL STORY.
(as are all my other stories)
I actually gave those sheets to d.i because I only thought of my 'toga' outfit nightmare. :)
I'm commenting!! Wahoo!!
I can relate . . . I grew out of my maternity clothes with Tyson, my last one. (And I even gained less weight than the one before, oh well.) I did ask if there could be more than one in there. I didn't want to buy one more BIG thing.
And I too get big from the IV thingy. I learned from my first one. Nothing I brought to wear home from the hospital even came close to fitting, and my water broke so I couldn't wear what I wore there home. Now I just buy sweats, and I think big, REAL BIG. So, I have something new to wear home and it fits, no matter how hideously fat I feel.
OH girl! I so forgot the toga look until this last blog, maybe I was so astonished I couldn't believe it. Although the tears streaming down mine and Jills faces, and our leaning on each other for support as we gasp for breath and hold our sides as we viewed your new "dress". I so love your blogs.
you are absolutely hilarious! I can just imagine it...I'm the type who had to wear maternity clothes almost immediately after finding out I am pregnant. So depressing...I have to say that being pregnant with a boy is sure different than having girls!!
sensitive eye issue when you're pregnant?
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