Can anyone tell me why it's harder to breathe when you're pregnant? I mean, it makes plenty of sense when you're further along and the kid's taking up space, which crowds your lungs. But why, when the kid's the size of a walnut, must we pant like dogs when we mearly reach to get into the top cupboard or pull a casserole out of the fridge? Seriously, does anyone know? I'm truly curious about this.
And another thing, why does it hurt so badly to sneeze? Everything in the abdomen pulls in unnatural directions, wrenching you into a tangled up ball of tummy-cradling, momentary agony. Is that like, just ligaments & muscles crying out for sympathy for their ever-growing plight? Or perhaps, does the sneeze itself trigger some switch which screams out for all the nerve endings to immediately revolt against relative comfort? Any other theories out there?
2 comments:
Here's my theory. All of the organs, tendons, muscles, etc. fit together like a puzzle. If you enlarge one piece of the puzzle it just doesn't fit right and it has to be accommodated and eventually everything in the whole puzzle gets a little screwy. That's the technical version.
So when will I know when this oxygen stealing baby, will be a boy or a GIRL? Any motherly premonitions?
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