Author: Jackie Pick

Jackie Pick is a former teacher and current writer living in the Chicago area. She is a contributing author to multiple anthologies, including Multiples Illuminated, So Glad They Told Me: Women Get Real about Motherhood, Here in the Middle, as well as the and the literary magazines The Sun and Selfish. She received Honorable Mention from the Mark Twain House and Museum for her entry in the Royal Nonesuch Humor Writing Competition. Jackie is a contributing writer at Humor Outcasts, and her essays have been featured on various online sites including McSweeney's, Belladonna Comedy, Mamalode, The HerStories Project, and Scary Mommy. A graduate of the University of Chicago and Northwestern University, Jackie is co-creator and co-writer of the award-winning short film Fixed Up, and a proud member of the 2017 Chicago cast of Listen To Your Mother.

Bumpdates! 26 weeks, 3 days.

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I am convinced Baby Girl is part cannonball. Heavy, round, and maximizing splash.

The phlebitis has mercifully died down, leaving me with a sort of retro, almost-paisley swath of purples and greens and pinks and browns behind my knee. It would be hypnotic if I were able to contort myself enough to look at it for more than a micro-second.

I am almost done with the second trimester. It is flying by.  I am trying to savor what I can…this is the last time I will be pregnant. I am trying to imprint every kick, every rumble, every craving into my memory, while trying to ignore the increasing discomfort as baby gets big and seems to be trying out for the US Gymnastics team.

I’m enjoying this, for the most part. Sleeping is spotty, at best. My belly feels heavy and weighted. I usually sleep on my tummy, and that’s no bueno now.  Yet, I do wake up feeling rested and happy, so it cannot be too bad.

I am amazed at the number of mothers I see at my kids’ nursery school who are constantly telling me to sit, stop, rest, lounge — all without knowing anything of my medical conditions.  It’s a little disconcerting to think pregnancy is still considered a time for us to be delicate.  Barring phlebitis and placenta uncertainty and occasional need to sleep 18 hours a day, pregnancy makes me feel all warrior-like. Maybe it’s the hormone surge, maybe it’s the extra calories, maybe it’s the inability to see the bottom half of my body, but I feel STRONG! UNSTOPPABLE!

Dr. Frankenstein-ish, minus the whole sewing body parts together.  LIFE! I’VE CREATED LIFE! (It’s f***ing kicking me in the ribs) BUT LIFE!!!!  I AM STRONG. I FEEL LIKE A GODDESS. (I have zits and burst into tears easily, readily, and often. It’s like a second puberty.) IT’S LIKE AN ENTIRE ECOSYSTEM IN MY MIDSECTION! I AM NATURE! (I have gas and varicose veins and all I ever see when I turn on the tv or the computer is how lovely the stars look during awards seasons.)

Also surprising is the general reaction people have to finding out we’re having a girl. Over-the-moon excitement!  How wonderful! Aren’t you thrilled? Oh, a girl!

I did not get these reactions with the boys. It sometimes throws me back…remember what I was writing a few weeks ago?  Right back there.

And yes, tomorrow is the day to continue purging those demons.