I’m 37 weeks pregnant, and I have officially reached the point where every stomach ache is a potential emergency.
Not because I know what labor feels like.
Quite the opposite, actually.
I have absolutely no idea what labor feels like.
I’ve never done this before.
So basically, I’m just walking around waiting for my body to give me a very clear announcement like:
“HELLO. THIS IS LABOR. PLEASE REPORT TO THE HOSPITAL.”
But apparently bodies don’t work that way.
Instead, I get a tummy ache and immediately start questioning everything.
“Okay… was that a contraction?”
“Was that Braxton Hicks?”
“Is the baby coming?”
“Am I in labor?”
“…or did I just eat cheese again?”
Because there’s a very important piece of information here:
I’m lactose intolerant.
And apparently, despite having a mother who has made it very clear that dairy and I are not friends, this baby has decided that dairy is basically a food group.
In the last two days, I have eaten five grilled cheese sandwiches.
Five.
GRILLED.
CHEESE.
SANDWICHES.
I would like to make it clear that nobody forced me to eat these grilled cheese sandwiches. These were my choices. I made these decisions willingly and with absolutely no regard for the consequences.
And then there’s the milk.
I have been drinking an embarrassing amount of milk over the last few weeks.
Okay, fine.
Chocolate milk.
But let’s not pretend that makes it better.
Milk is milk, and my digestive system knows it.
So naturally, I’ve been having a lot of tummy aches.
And every time one happens, my brain immediately goes into full detective mode.
I’ll be sitting there thinking:
“Hmm. My stomach hurts.”
Pause.
“Wait.”
Longer pause.
“IS THIS IT?”
Then I start trying to determine if the pain is coming and going.
Is it getting stronger?
Is it lasting longer?
Is it a contraction?
Is it gas?
Is it the grilled cheese?
Is the baby trying to escape?
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?
And honestly, I feel like this is the worst possible time in my life to have a food intolerance.
Because at 37 weeks pregnant, there is already enough happening inside my body without me having to wonder if every intestinal rumble is the beginning of childbirth.
I genuinely cannot tell the difference.
I’m just out here with absolutely no experience, trying to distinguish between labor pains and the consequences of my own poor dietary choices.
Imagine having your first baby and thinking you’ll know when labor starts.
Meanwhile, I’m going to be sitting on the couch clutching my stomach like:
“Okay, this feels serious.”
And then five minutes later:
“Actually, I think I just need to poop.”
What a beautiful journey motherhood is.
And this is why I’m starting to think I might not make it to my due date.
Do I have any legitimate reason to think that?
No.
Has my doctor told me I’m going into labor early?
No.
Have I had any real signs that I’m definitely about to give birth?
Also no.
But do I have a very strong feeling?
Absolutely.
And honestly, I think it’s because I’m now at the point where every weird sensation feels like my body is preparing to launch a baby.
A cramp?
Baby.
Backache?
Baby.
Tummy ache?
BABY.
Need to pee for the 47th time today?
Probably baby.
Feel slightly uncomfortable?
Definitely baby.
Hear my stomach make a weird noise after eating half a block of cheese?
…probably not baby.
Probably the cheese.
At this point, I’m just waiting for the moment when I finally realize, Oh. Okay. THIS is actually labor.
Assuming I ever figure it out.
Because for all
