Ok, so I didn't actually pass out. Maybe just sort of grayed out for a second and I was lying down at the time. Not terribly dramatic, if I do say so myself.
But why, you ask, am I all red in the face and woozy? Inversion. Frickin' crappy, hate the damn word and want to throw rotten tomatoes at my husband every time he asks if I've done my exercises, inversion.
Baby Three (we're just going to name it Three. Keep it simple.) is upside down. Or, technically, up side up. It's not that big a deal yet and I'm hopeful that he/she will get bored with the view and slip around the right way in the next few weeks. I mean, come on, my midwife has spent months casually reminding me that I'm "all stretched out" this time around. I'm sure there's plenty of flex in there for some last minute acrobatics!
But, just in case, I've got to do these exercises at least three times a day. I get down flat on the floor and put a bunch of pillows under my butt and relax for 15 minutes whilst Three is supposed to be encouraged somehow to change direction by the change in MY direction.
Only it's not relaxing. It kills my back and after about 30 seconds I get a massive head rush that then turns into a growing pressure headache. I have not made it to 15 minutes yet, I just roll to the side in defeat after about seven or eight minutes and then have a good little whimper while my blood circulation attempts to re-assert itself.
Oh, and of course, so far this game of pregnant Twister has not inspired any shifting at all, except to get Three to kick me more fiercely right in the cervix. Ouch.
On a brighter note, Anna LOVES this game. She gets all pillowed up right next to me and then goes into a cheery speech about how, "I can do this so much BETTER than you, Mama! After the baby comes, maybe you can do the things that I can do, but right now I'm so much better! Can you put your legs over your head like this? Try it! No? Well, I can! See? SO MUCH BETTER!".
When Three makes this little flippity-flip-flip move, I will go out and have a whole yummy strawberry shake just to reward him/her. And I will do it right-side-UP.
(See, Lea? See what I did there? I said "when", not "if". Do I rock or what?)
UNRELATED SIDE NOTE: I wanted to clarify for posterity and concerned media outlets that when I'm expressing my feelings, trepidations, joys or other whatnots about this pregnancy and impending mommyhood challenges, I'm not in anyway blaming or belittling the baby. Three is the innocent player here and I fiercely look forward to meeting this child. I know from experience that once you have another child you always find your life impossible to imagine without them. I've been there. And even with everything that happened after my second daughter was born, there was never even a second in time where I flashed an inkling of an idea that it was somehow her fault. In fact, the nature of my unreality was rooted in how my children deserved so much more than my flawed and useless self. They are the prize, I am the undeserving winner.
In my opinion (and this is, after all, all about MY OPINION, right?) I'd rather face up to what's in my head so I can deal with it and move on. Putting it all in a pretty shiny happy box of pretend does nothing for me. It's totally possible and (dare I say it? Normal!) to feel happy and blessed by your life while still acknowledging the challenges, fears and guilty sense of inadequacy that often comes along with the good stuff.
So, to summarize, if you think I'm somehow hating on the baby when I'm just being honest about MYSELF... Suck it. And that's all I have to say about that.