Hello belly brothers, I know it has been afew days since I commiserated with you, but life takes its toll, eh? You may not realize that when you hit the 2nd trimester you hit the doldrums of the belly time. Well past the initial excitement, well past others being excited for you, and well past the memory of the little blue cross that sealed thy fate. Like a sailor on the vast ocean you have forgotten the maidens waving to you from shore, tossing flowers as you embark on the journey. The smell of the salt air as you felt the rush of the boat when the trade winds filled your sails and the look across the bow into the vast ocean into the unknown. Filled with trepidation tempered with anticipation, you felt the sway of the sea and couldn't wait for the distant shores.
Well belly life is much like the sea voyage. The undulating of the vessel rolling you forward has now become the rythmic equivilant of water torture. You wake to the roll, you spend all day with the roll, and you go to sleep with the roll. But some time has past, and much time has yet to go. At the half way point, you are tired of all this freaking rolling. The belly is growing increasingly uncomfortable, and having difficultly doing what it did with ease a few short weeks earlier. The hormones have subsided, the estrogen is stable, but what they didn't tell you is they have been replaced with the new hormone, bossogen. This is the hormone that affects the belly and brings out a pronounced increase in the certainty that the belly is the boss. Of you, of the weather, of everything and everybody.
Bossogen is less unstable, but the downside is that it never wavers. At least early on, the mood would ebb and flow. A temper would flare and subside, you only had to weather the storm. But now my friends, the boss has arrived and you had better get used to it. Nothing you own is yours any longer. You think you had rights to your own home? Ha! You were so very wrong. Scenario: you are getting ready in your bathroom(admittedly you share with the belly, but heretofore it had a sort of squatters right, whoever was in there got to stay until finished) the belly rushes in, sees you engaged in activity, and says "I have to pee, get out". Now you could protest, in your half dressed state you might even ask a stupid question like "what?". But what you need to do is get out....pronto. I have a recurring nightmare where the police are called because I am standing in my underwear in my front yard because the belly has ordered my evacuation. The good part of the dream is the coppers are both belly veterans and when they ask me why I am in the yard in such a state of undress, I only have to say "my wife's pregnant". And they holster their weapons and drive away.
Up until now things have been going swimmingly, but I am coming the the realization that the belly is steadily losing brain function. Not her fault, to be sure, but still an alarming development. We went to breakfast, we reviewed the menu, I said how about the breakfast plattter? Scrambled eggs, chorizo, beans and potatoes. The belly responded, "fine, whatever, I don't care, I'm just soooo hungry". We got our food and I immediately noticed the sour mood. "what's wrong" I inquired? Well I misunderstood the direction of "I don't care". Now I have always understood "I don't care" as meaning lack of care or concern of the outcome. Well, clearly this is not the meaning of "I don't care". What it really means is I-don't-want-to-be-bothered-with-ordering-but-you-better-order-me-exactly-what-I-want-or-your-ass-is-grass. Evidently scrambled eggs are not what the belly wanted, nor is it, as I was informed, anything the belly likes, has ever liked, or will ever like anytime...ever. Luckily, I had a couple of over easy eggs on my plate and with a quick scrap of plates, the offending scrambled embryos were removed and order restored.
I had thought the belly was omnivorous, and as long as it was not fighting back, it would be consumed. But here is your cautionary note. Never, ever, order "whatever". 'cause even though the belly says "I don't care" the belly cares very, very much.
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