The average person's body temperature is 98.6 degrees. I think right now mine is 1000. I'm like Jake from Twilight. Also, I'm producing like 75% more stomach acid than regular people.
God gave pregnant women super powers, but they're not really any good. Like, what's up with my sense of smell? I'm a bloodhound. Actually, if you gave both a bloodhound and me a piece of fabric to sniff, I'm pretty sure I'd find the criminal first. The other day, my family and I were sitting in the family room watching a movie. After about ten minutes, Joe had to pause it. "Why are you sniffing like that?" he asked. "It's so loud I can't hear the movie!" It's true. I was sniffing. Somewhere around me I could smell something foul. Turned out it was the garbage in the kitchen. Nobody else noticed a thing. I recognize that could be because they're all boys, but since this issue has only arisen in the last few weeks, I'm thinking it's me.
I have the power to fall asleep anywhere, any time. This one just takes a power I already had and kicks it up a notch. I've always been a powerful sleeper, but now? In the last two weeks, I have fallen asleep in the bathroom (Noah was taking too darn long), in the hallway (another incident with Noah), on the couch, in a chair, and at the kitchen counter. It's partially my fault, I know, because I stop to take little rests and, well, one thing leads to another, but after a point it becomes ridiculous. I looked the extreme exhaustion up online. Apparently, all my energy is going into building a placenta. So, okay. Super power number five.
I could probably be dropped off a twenty-story building, and if I landed on my breasts, I'd just bounce gracefully up to my feet, completely unharmed.
I have really thick hair. Take that, world. Oh, and super strong fingernails. Ba-bam!
I burp like a fifty-year-old man with a beer belly at a bar.
My brain has morphed into fluff. That's not a super power, though. It's really more of...a super excuse. Today, for example, I had no memory of the fact that it was Noah's snack day, that Joey was having a party at school (for which I was meant to buy treats and actually come in to help), or that Joey was getting his report card. I also just now realized that at least eight times in the last forty-eight hours Joe asked me to take care of something in the mail and I still haven't done it. And I mean...I haven't even opened the envelope. Honestly, I don't even know where the envelope is. I also sat on my glasses when I got into the car. Because instead of putting them away, I just left them on the seat. Why did I do that? I don't know. I have fluff for brains.
Oh, and what about this horrid taste in my mouth all the time? I never had that with my first two babies. You know that taste you get in your mouth after you've accidentally fallen asleep? The one that makes you frown and slap your tongue around in your mouth for a minute before you get up and brush your teeth (I hope)? I have that all the time. And you want to know the kicker? Brushing your teeth makes the taste worse. I thought I must be crazy, but then I Googled it. Some other pregnant lady out there in the Internet void had posted about it. Her solution? Swish baking soda and water around in your mouth. Well, super. If I weren't so nauseated all the time, maybe I'd get right on that. Anything pasty looks gross to me right now. Along with raw meat, wet paper products, and bathrooms in general. Although...again, I do live with three boys. That bathroom thing sort of goes for all the time.
I cry at really strange things. Anything with children. Kay Jeweler commercials. My children crying. Banging my elbow for the fortieth time in one day. Actual sad things, of course, like terminal illness and death. Running out of laundry detergent. Indigestion. Although, go back to paragraph one, my indigestion might make The Rock cry.
I think it would be really funny if I somehow managed to save the world using my new powers, but for now, I'll just keep reminding myself why I have them. It's kind of the greatest super power of all.
I'm growing a person.