Braxton Hicks are jerks

So now I really truly get it.  Yes, not getting to have some of the things I love (sushi and sangria, for example) sometimes makes pregnancy seem like FOREVER.  Thanks to the last 2 weeks though, I get why in the third trimester, I am already tying to bribe, cajole, and trick this baby to come out of me.

Braxton Hicks contractions suck ass.  Sorry to be so blunt, but there's really no other way to put it.  John Braxton Hicks in 1872 got these named after him so forever after, he is on my "List".  Of course they're named after a man.  Sigh.

Books and baby sites make it sound like they're a walk in the park - a slight tightening of the uterus.  Bullshit.  Take your period cramps.  Take the worst one you ever had times about 5. Now imagine that every night for weeks with no end in sight.  It's not like I get them constantly, but a good 3 or 4 a night seems to be par for the course until I give up whatever I am doing and go to bed.  I can almost hear the Braxton Hicks contractions laughing at me - haha, we have made her bend to our will once again.  Like I said, they're totally jerks, akin to those douchebag ex-boyfriends that almost all of us had at one time or another.

Now Braxton Hicks didn't come alone to this party.  Oh no, that would be "ruining his rep." He brought along his equally douche-y buddy, Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. Never heard of it?  Me either until my last doctor appointment.  You see, while getting the lovely Braxton Hicks contractions every night like a Vegas show, SPD has decided it wants to be the opening act / co-star nightly.

Basically, this hormone makes all your ligaments relax so the baby can get out (it's called relaxin - aren't they clever?)  One of the places the ligaments need to relax (obviously) is in the pelvis. That baby's head ain't getting out otherwise.  Well, in the front, the ligaments are supposed to stretch out a little bit, but if your pelvis isn't "locked" (whatever the hell that means), or they stretch out a little too much, you can get pain.  A lot of pain.  The best way I can describe it is that it's like getting kicked in the crotch with a really pointy pair of stilettos - but from the inside.

Yes houseboating buddies, for inventing the C-punch term, I am now experiencing a reverse one or 5 on a daily basis.  Karma is a bitch. (For non-houseboaters - think of it as the woman version of kicking a man in the family jewels, but with a cruder and unfortunately catchy moniker one thinks up after days of drinking "punch" on the Shuswaps)

The only relief from these two asinine conditions? Laying down.  Unfortunately, they also have an annoying little gnat of a cousin - acid reflux.  Yep, joy of joys.  After Braxton Hicks and SPD have kicked my ass enough to make me go to bed at 7:30pm, about 10 minutes later, acid reflux comes to this little get together and makes me feel like puking all night.  Whoopee shit.

So you see, I am starting to get a little desperate - Tilly needs to get her little butt out here.  I am in the process of making a list of all the things I can do to convince her to come out - booking reflexology and acupuncture, purchasing a trampoline, and I'm even getting close to drinking castor oil.  Any ideas short of a vacuum cleaner are more than welcome - well, almost any.  I just remembered who reads this and what you people come up with sometimes frightens me a little.