I Might Be Mutating, But at Least I Have the Right Amount of Fingers.

by Terri Psiakis on 21 July 2009

This article is part of a series. Read the previous article here >

As mentioned in my first blog, I’m up the spout. Clearly, having a baby is the most natural thing in the world but that doesn’t stop it from being freaky and strange. There’s no controlling the physical changes and sensations that pregnancy involves. It’s a bit like getting on a rollercoaster and having no choice other than to just hang on and deal with everything that happens in between when the ride starts and when it ends (and note that during both pregnancy and rollercoaster rides, 'everything that happens' often involves spontaneous spew.)

I’m ridiculously excited about having a baby (although I haven’t quite worked up the same excitement about the fact that this process will ultimately involve the destruction of my downstairs department, but never mind.) But I’m often finding the physical changes hard to get my head around. Seriously. I feel as though I’m mutating.

The belly-getting-bigger part is actually cool. It’s now big enough to warrant stares – usually my own while I stand with my shirt pulled up in front of the mirror. I go into department store fitting rooms empty-handed, just to take advantage of the multiple mirrors that let you check yourself out from every angle. Last week the fitting room attended asked if I was trying anything on and I replied 'No, I’m just looking,' which I thought was a fair and accurate response until much later when I realized she might have thought I was there to perve on other people. In any case she didn’t seem to have a problem with it and let me through.

Strangers stare at my belly now, too. I don’t mind so much now that it’s obvious I’m pregnant. In the first few months I felt embarrassed because I just looked like I’d spent too long in the pantry. My preferred explanation during that time was 'It’s ok, I’m not fat – there’s someone in there.'

I also spend a lot of time navel-gazing. My belly-button used to be an 'innie' but now it’s definitely an 'outie' to the point where it looks a bit like the button you push at the traffic lights before you cross the road. I keep showing my navel to The Bloke and telling him to push it but he refuses – he reckons it looks more like an ejector button and if he pushes it either the baby will come early or my head will fly off.

So generally I’m ok with my mutant status but every now and then – despite the fact that I know it’s all perfectly natural – I have a little freak-out. Feeling The Sprout, as I call her, kick around like crazy for the first time was amazing but also totally, utterly overwhelming to the point where I promptly burst into a flood of tears.

'None of this is freaky,' soothed The Bloke at the time. 'Gemma Arterton is freaky. Google her – she’ll make you feel better.'

So I did, and immediately discovered that Gemma Arterton is one of the latest Bond girls. At first I thought this was The Bloke’s idea of a sick joke. How was a stunning Bond girl going to make me feel better? I Googled harder: hmmm, Gemma Arterton. Young? Check. Beautiful? Check. Born with twelve fingers? Check. Youbetcha.

In a recent interview for her Bond movie Gemma revealed that she was born with an extra finger on each hand. Hot or not? I guess it’s hot if you’re into porn films titled 'Mitten Surprise' but if you’re everybody else in the world, probably not. It got better, though. Gemma went on to say in her interview that she still has small lumps on the side of her hands following the childhood procedure she underwent to have the extra fingers removed. She then casually mentioned that the procedure she underwent as a child to have them removed involved them being 'tied' CAUSING THEM TO FALL OFF NATURALLY.

This immediately made me decide the following:

That is not hot.
Fingers falling off should never be considered 'natural'.
It would be hard to know how to dispose of fingers because they’re not recyclable and they’re not kitchen scraps.
It would have been really awkward if her fingers fell off while she was sharing a box of popcorn with someone and they fell off while her hand was in the box of popcorn and she didn’t know they’d fallen off until the person she was sharing the box of popcorn with absent-mindedly withdrew one of her fingers from the box and put it into their mouth while they were watching the movie. Even more awkward if that movie was Goldfinger.
I’m not a freak. I am, however, married to a very funny man.

Enjoy TYING THE KNOT WITHOUT DOING YOUR BLOCK (The Bloke features heavily!) and thanks for reading my blogs.