Rescuing the Orca AKA Getting My Big Fat Pregnant Ass Outta Bed

Greetings, readers! I’ve recovered from my long weekend, and am back to my beloved blog. I will probably post my weekly baby update/belly picture tomorrow after my doctor’s appointment. I completely missed last week. Whoops. Bad blogger! In the meantime, enjoy my latest post.. All about getting my big fat ass out of bed.

I had once been told by a friend of mine who had been pregnant with twins that in order to get out of her bed once she had gotten big, she had to grab onto the headboard and roll herself off. This was in early pregnancy, when my baby belly was simply a dream to me. I, of course, laughed at the visual and figured that it was something that happened solely to women carrying multiples.
Oh, how very… very wrong I was.
I have since learned the error of my way of thinking; as I, too have become one of the Pregnant Launchers. You can’t really explain it to someone who hasn’t ever been pregnant. I don’t think even being overweight or obese can compare, because to my knowledge, fat moves. Baby stomach… Does not move. It’s like a boulder that you get strapped to your middle; one that is constantly there, constantly in the way. An immovable, round barrier that bars you from doing normal activities. Like.. Tying shoes. Sitting close to a table (resulting in mama constantly dropping food onto the “shelf”). Bending over. Hugging your husband/partner properly. Hugging ANYONE properly. Breathing well. Passing by people in a restaurant behind their chairs to get to the bathroom. And, of course, getting out of bed.
Yes, you can still get out of bed but not without a lot of noise and to-do. At least, I can’t.. And I’m honestly and truly not that big. Of course, I am 37 weeks pregnant but I’m not that big. No, I’m not in denial. I’ve had a couple people tell me I’m not that big, thank you very much. Since a little over mid-pregnancy, I’ve embraced the glories and wonders of the body pillow. It’s not a fancy, expensive pregnant-lady body pillow but a $10 one from Wal-Mart that I stole from the couch when I started getting uncomfortable. I cannot sleep without my body pillow. I’m a side-sleeper by nature so transitioning to side-sleeping only was never a problem for me… Getting used to sleeping draped awkwardly over a pillow, however, did take a little time getting used to. Not to mention the fact that I can’t freaking snuggle with my husband anymore, which SUCKS.
I digress. I can never stay comfortably asleep on one side for more than an hour or two at a time before I have to roll over. I used to try and just roll over and go right back to sleep, but it took so much adjusting, grunting and tossing of the pillow I just gave up and began shifting sides whenever I had to pee (which, coincidentally enough happens to be every 2-3 hours). I normally start out sleeping on my right side, embracing the body pillow for dear comfort. Upon my first waking, I have to begin the Ritual of the Rolling. Taking care not to launch my feline companions that are snug at the foot of the bed, I’ll pull the covers off. Then, I’ll drag the body pillow completely out from under the covers, fling it off the bed and give a little sigh. Next comes the heaving. I will roll ever-so-slightly to the right to get my momentum going, and then roll as hard as I can the opposite direction, flailing my arms and legs to get as much leverage off the bed as possible. I’m amazed that my husband does not wake each and every time from the amount of movement and noise that comes from me when I get out of bed. Once I’m in a sitting position (wincing from the groin and pelvic pain), I’ll hoist myself up off the bed to a standing position with much more noise and effort, and shuffle awkwardly to the restroom.
After I’ve done my business, I will get back into bed, snag my body pillow from the floor and switch to my left side. I’ll nestle the pillow properly where I like it, cover myself back up, and wait to fall asleep.
This process will repeat in 2 or 3 hours. I have seriously considered installing some form of rigging to the bed that will simply lift me out; like one of those big ass crane/sling things they use to rescue whales from the shore when they’ve become beached.

Yeah, that thing.

Just call me Shamu, baby. Just call me Shamu.