The summer I was pregnant with Miriam was the hottest summer on record in the state of Arkansas. Which is where we were living at the time.
Now, my northern Yankee girl blood didn’t care for the heat when not pregnant. At nine months pregnant, I was downright murderous. Seriously. I could have happily killed a stranger just because it was that hot.
How hot was it?
It was in the 100’s for days…maybe even weeks. My mother-in-law hadn’t remembered a hotter summer in all her life there. I had a plant that literally went from green to burnt in 24 hours. In the shade. And lucky me, I got to experience it nine months pregnant.
For those of you who’ve never been pregnant, pregnancy causes you to become a human incubator. Your body just feels warmer. Imagine being feverish, and it being 111 degrees outside. Think how you’d feel then.
I was desperate to give birth at that point, but no…my precious little bundle of pink waited it out until the end of August to be born. So I went around, grumpy, slightly murderous, sucking on Fudgesicles (they both cooled and calmed me with their icy chocolate goodness.) I was actually part of a birth club board and got the entire board hooked on Fudgesicles.
One day, I stopped by Josh’s aunt’s house. His cousin Kate, who was maybe in high school, was there. I mentioend how I was too freaking hot. She said “Well, you’re just hot because you’re pregnant.”
I said “No, I’m hot because it’s a hundred and eleven f’ing degrees out.”
Looking back, may not have been the nicest thing to say. But Kate was a good sport and laughed and agreed with me. Which is why Kate has always been my favorite cousin 😉
This trip down memory lane brought to you today by that same Kate, who tweeted that it was 100 degrees down there in the South…she’s now all grown up and a mommy herself and blogs at Mommy Monologues….