Ode to My Coccyx

It has been brought to my attention that I have failed to make a new blog entry in about a week. For this gross oversight, I place the blame squarely on my coccyx. That's right, the trusty tailbone. The one part of the human body you are guaranteed to pay no attention to whatsoever, until it hurts. And once that occurs, my friends, there's really no room in the average brain for creative thought or for any other thought really besides, "Ow! Ow! @#$%!@ Ow!" Let's call it Heightened Coccyx Awareness -- I'm sure there's a chapter devoted to it in some orthopedic text somewhere.

At times like this, I really wish I'd paid more attention during human anatomy in high school. Maybe then I'd have some clue as to how three babies jutting a foot and a half in front of me can possibly be causing that much discomfort in the opposite direction. But since I was raised by a mother who hid her medical encyclopedia to guard against the possibility of impure thoughts, and whose idea of sex ed. involved simply observing the mating habits of the feral cats in our back yard, I think I spent the whole time waffling from slightly embarrassed to outright mortified. I certainly wasn't learning anything that might help me understand my current dilemma.

I have to admit, my present state of "coccyx awareness" is not an entirely new experience. Remember the 90's when absolutely everyone knew that the greatest form of outdoor exercise known to man was rollerblading? I put aside any bad memories of elementary school visits to Skate Galaxy in Jasper, and convinced myself that with age came coordination. This was a painfully incorrect assumption. Mainly because a) I weighed more, and b) had at lot further to fall. Also, I chose to make my first attempt in an ill-kept, abandoned parking lot. Not that there's ever a good place for falling, but landing butt-first on concrete would be pretty high on my list of really bad places to fall. But I was young and healed quickly. I also was smart enough to sell the rollerblades and take up yoga. Has anyone ever heard of a yoga related emergency room visit? I thought not.

I've had time to contemplate my current tailbone problem, and have developed my own theory based on...well nothing really. Nevertheless, here's what I think. I've heard multiples will work together to create mischief, so why wait until after birth? All three babies are head up and roughly back to back to back -- just like the heroes always wind up in spaghetti westerns or old kung fu movies -- and seem to have devised a plan of escape. A and C are facing front and will simultaneously push to the right and left sides of my stomach (creating a really bizarre ditch down the middle). At the same time, B, who is facing backward, is pushing out against my spine. Here we find the root of my coccyx pain -- officially making baby B a pain in the butt and strengthening my resolve to name him after my dad.

It's a flawed tactic, in that none of them are going to get out that way. However, it is also brilliant, in that I no longer have any intention of arguing with my Doctor's deadline of 34 weeks. By making me so miserable I can't eat or sleep, they've guaranteed themselves early release.

When you think about it, they identified a problem, created a plan and are working together to carry it out. So what if I can't sit upright or walk without holding on to furniture, *sniff* I'm just proud to be their mom. I wonder how early Harvard will take an application?