Holy flaming bologna pickles,
I’ve been pretty proud of myself before this, thinking I’d outsmarted pregnancy symptoms. Ha ha hello third trimester boat symptoms. SOME ONE PUT FIRE IN MY ESOPHAGUS. I have heard of heartburn before, never really experienced it myself but good lord, I have swallowed the flames of eight thousand twenty three suns burning with the flames of just listening to Beyonce’s « Girls Run the World »and smoking five packets of Cuban cigars while chugging Martiniquan Rum. What the hell is in my body? Apparently I do not digest carbs anymore; protein, fruits, and vegetables are ok; even things that are not supposed tp be ok like oranges and tomatoes but give me some cereal, rice, or pasta- anything that turns into sugars in my stomach and I am Hiroshima in summer. All we have left on the boat basically is carbs and beans.
Today marks day 17. We have 60 Nautic miles to go. Yes almighty flapjacks, you heard that right, after 2100 Nautic miles from Mindelo and an even more impressive 5600 Nautic miles from Lyon we are almost there… so close I can smell and touch those fresh salad leaves, tomatoes, carrots, peppers, and mango fruits I know are waiting for me, smiling, grinning with dew and will hop into my pregnant mouth as soon as we touch port. I can hear them now,
« Yaz pregnant queen, we’ve been waiting for you, yez queen. » And I will be their fresh queen yaaz Momma until I die with green skin and cucumbers for fingernails.
We’ve done a pretty good job calculating food and water. Basically, we just needed to bring more fresh things but HOW DO YOU KEEP CABBAGE AND CARROTS LIVING FOR MORE THAN 17 days? You don’t or you bring canned/ fermented stuff. BUT WE’VE RUN OUT.. We still have 20 liters of fresh water left and our fresh water tank which is comparatively small to most boats, just 200 liters is still flowing, a feat we are all proud of, but someone please make these burning flames stop.
Thank you to our friend/ doctor Melanie who gave us a prescription for thousands of pills that fit into a giant tub in our bathroom. No idea what most of these pills are for and usually Pierre and I just go the homeopathic route but her prescription of bicarbonate sodium packets that taste like windex solution calm the smoldering inner inferno for a few seconds.
And my feet. I used to have cute little feet, and something called ankles. Have you ever heard of ankles, you know, « the hip bone connects to the leg bone, the leg bone connects to the ankle bone… den bones dem bones…. Well my ankles are gone and my feet in the heat look like bratwursts. Yesterday Pierre and I were watching them and one which had been more in the sun was clearly more swollen than the other one and we named one sauccison and the other saucisson sec. My feet are still the same size, my Mother told me my feet would grow a shoe size or two and nope, I still have elf feet just Keebler Elf feet now who were stung by swarms of bees. Cool, genial, thank you pregnancy.
And my body. I feel like the Michelin man eaten by java the hut. Pierre says I am beautiful, round, sexy, he loves this… but inside I assure you that Java the hut digesting the Michelin man is slowly taking possession of my belly, boobs, and now ankles. The process has started. The next time you see a java the hut playing the harp with curly hair and huge ankles; you’ll know what happened to me.
Oh yes, last pregnancy symptom I am having peas and carrots fun dealing with on a boat. Contractions…. Y’all know Charlie horses, when you do not drink enough those lovely crushing tightening of your calf legs. Not so pleasant right men?
WOMEN ARE GODDESSES. I do not know if everyone else pre-delivery contractions feel like this but for me on the boat when it is rough my uterus and pelvic region go into spontaneous we will be hard as boulders and your rock and roll Baby will especially enjoy kicking you hard in these moments because he likes his walls soft and free. Already I love the personality of our son, if you mess with his environment, he kicks back. He is a vivacious little life dancer.
While I am starting to feel done with the third trimester, I know it’s all worth it to meet this Soul. Come when you are ready little Star Follower, we love you…