Before I was pregnant, I didn’t pay much attention to my body. Â I didn’t own a scale. Â I couldn’t tell you anything about my metabolism. Â I didn’t even know when I was hungry and when I was full. Â I just didn’t pay much attention to the things my body was telling me. Â When I became pregnant, I started to pay more attention, more out of necessity than anything else. Â There is a person living inside me. Â I should probably be a good landlord and keep the grounds clean, you know?
I got pretty comfortable with myself. Â I started to be able to tell things just from the way that my body felt. Â For example, I knew before any of the testing that we were having a boy. Â I just knew it. Â And all those months my doctor tried to tell me that the baby was head down, I just knew that he wasn’t. Â Sure enough, last week when I was at the doctor’s office for my ultrasound, they discovered that the Bean is, in fact, breech. Â And not just breech. Â But footling breech. Â Basically, he’s standing up straight in there. Â And he’s facing the wrong direction. Â He seems pretty cool with this. Â My doctors do not. Â I tend to err on the side of the Bean. Â Even though he isn’t, like, born yet, I still feel like he has excellent judgment and if he doesn’t want to tuck and roll yet, then that’s his call.
Anyway, back to my body. Â As my due date looms closer (4 weeks!!), I am on the look out for any kind of sign that I may be in labor. Â The problem is that I’ve never been in labor before, so I’m not really sure what signs I’m looking for. Â This means that any little uncomfortable feeling, any odd sensation, any strange movement from within sends me into a momentary state of excitement as I wonder if this is truly it – am I really about to have this baby?
And then I fart.