The Zipper

I am so glad to be 26 weeks pregnant and not 10 weeks.
At 26 weeks with my belly that enters the room before me, people smile and offer me a seat. The guys at the coffee shop, colleagues in meeting are extra considerate. Although I feel like Winnie-the-Pooh, I also feel cute in a universal way.

However at 10 weeks I didnt think these charming thoughts. In fact at about eight weeks I chose to focus on a zipper.

Since I didn't start this blog until my second trimester. I'll take this post to publish down some thoughts I wrote down in the early weeks.

At about eight weeks, I chose the mental image of a zipper. I began picturing the small chrome colored object. That ingenious and ubiquitous device that is found on purses, blue jeans, backpacks and almost every other personal item. I started wondering 'could I make myself a charm bracelet with one'? I recalled once seeing a zipper ring on a woman's finger.
Pregnancy had taken me for a ride. A ride on a windy mountain road on an empty stomach after two nights without sleep. A ride I could not get off. Barely did the car seem to stop for a break.

Being the kind of girl I am, I was not so poetic about it at the time. No, I griped. I complained. I whined. I moaned. Unfortunately for him, the most frequent listener was the ever-patient Daniel. My gift for words perhaps was more of a trojan horse as I described each churn of my stomach and the smells on the crowded BART. I griped about spinach and feta salads that grossed me out. I complained about onions chopped too coarsely. I whined about being tired and stuffy nostrils.

Until one evening where I was at a party with my good friend Jolie. Jolie was four months ahead of me in pregnancy. Jolie is a inspiration. She is a tough girl. Not tattoo tough, but the kind of tough that stays at a party until midnight and wakes up at 5:30 a.m. to pack a travel van for a trip. Tough enough to bike to everywhere she needs to go. A girl who can share her house with anyone. She doesn't need seem to need things but finds joy in what is. When I asked her how she does it- she said she justs zips the lip. And presto, I realized I needed my own zipper.

So for the next long, few weeks of pregnancy, I visualized a small chrome zipper. It was a meager attempt to keep the outpouring of complains shut inside my lips.
Daniel will tell you I whined like the best three year old. But I want him to know that I tried.