Um... I need you to look at something for me

I'm now 32 weeks along (2 months left) and I'm trying to milk as much out of this pregnancy as possible.  I've hit the crest of my bell curve, but I'm trying my best to enjoy it as much as possible till the inevitable angry, uncomfortable, irritable beast of a woman inside me emerges in my last few weeks. 

Now let me preface this with the fact that I'm uber thankful that I didn't have to deal with never-ending nausea or extreme weight gain.  For the most part, I've been having a pretty easy pregnancy and I'm thankful that my body hasn't become so disfigured that I look like the Michelin Man version of my pre-pregnancy self.

As to be expected, my tiny frame is being stretched, pulled, and pushed in all different directions and I have a basketball sized belly weighing down on all the organs below my waist.  I can’t see anything below the top of my belly curve-- which makes for investigating aches, pains, and "discomforts" quite difficult.  I like to call these discomforts “silent predators”… you can’t seem them, but boy do you feel them.

Which brings me to my story....

Warning: The following tale is not for the faint of heart. I am documenting it for my own purposes-- mainly so that in the future, when I think I'm having a bad day, I can come back and read this and think "yeah your day is not THAT bad".  You know what I mean.  Glad we're on the same page.

Thankfully, I am blessed with a husband that has quite the sense of humor.  Well, that and he's not the squeamish type-- unless you're a baby and you barf in his mouth or your dog sneezes in his face (just throwing out random scenarios that would be an exception).  

So it had been a few days and I had been feeling an interesting "discomfort" in an area that was not easily reachable and definitely unseen (especially by me).  This unpleasantness then manifested itself into an insatiable itch.  I'm talking about an itch so bad you plead for death.   Being the classy woman that I am, I obviously rubbed that area raw... to the point that I'm sure it will never look the same again.  

This is where Matt comes in.  Poor Matt.  I'd been awake all night-- going to town on eliminating the itch, so I was wide awake by the time his 5am alarm went off.  He turns off his alarm and a voice from the darkness says this:

"Um... I need you to look at something for me".  That's never a good sign. 

Matt dutifully examines me and responds so matter-of-factly with

"Well, it looks like…(thoughtful pause as he waits for the right description to grace his lips)… the rudder of a ship".

I'm no expert here, but I have no use for a rudder.  The image that comes to mind is that of kneading bread dough and after a while it doubles in size.  Except, I never intended to bake loaves with my butt.

You should have seen the face on the Target cashier that watched me unload my "ship-rudder elminating" purchases onto the conveyer belt.  I threw some gum and snacks on there as well just to "lighten the mood".  I can't be the first person who has ever bought Prep-H and Chex mix together. At least now I know how to build the perfect relief package for any other pregnant woman that's experiencing these foes.

Rudder Elimination Kit

To top it all off, I ended up also breaking out into a full body food allergy rash from something I ate on Father's Day.  After being sent to 2 different doctors and a perinatologist they concluded that I can't eat shrimp, strawberries, or sesame seeds for the rest of the pregnancy.  It's too bad, I was planning a shrimp and sesame seed oil stir fry, garnished with strawberries. OR... it could just be heat rash.  We're currently testing out theories.