Ahhh, finally. The third trimester is upon us. To be honest, I’m not really sure if I should get so excited about it, because I know too well that the hottest, most uncomfortable, cumbersome, and slow-going parts of my pregnancy are now lurking just around the corner. But I’m pretty relieved, pretty thankful to have made it this far and to have what my doctor is still calling a “textbook normal, boring old pregnancy.”
But, a few changes seem to have moved in on me just this past week, and I can’t say that I’m “enjoying” these new developments. For one thing, my lower abdomen just HURTS sometimes – as in, tender, bloated, stretched beyond belief…all kinds of unpleasant. But in the meantime, Russ is kicking and jumping around, which often doesn’t help much with the discomfort but does make me feel reassured that the twinges I’m feeling are normal pregnancy things and nothing to worry about. I got my first kick in the ribs earlier this week, which was an interesting experience. It wasn’t particularly painful, but I can see how in another 5 weeks or so, it could really get that way. There have been a few times that I’ve been sure Russ was head down with his feet under my lungs – but then again, just as many instances in which I was sure he was standing directly on top of my bladder, headbutting my bellybutton and doing some sort of “Make Mommy Pee Her Pants” raindance. I just hope he settles into the head down position by 35 weeks or so, so that I can worry a little less about a breech positioning issue.
Another third trimester nasty that has snuck up on me? Two words: Mood. Swings. Like earlier today at the grocery store after the gym:
There I am, with a sweat mark going straight up the crack of my yoga pants, wearing a stretched out maternity tank top that only fits my belly (it’s a tent everywhere else), a sports bra that couldn’t possibly make these third trimester boobies look presentable, face still flushed from the gym, trying to find the one elusive bag of salad at the Bi-Lo in Taylors that hasn’t started to turn brown. And then two little boys see me and start giggling – looking right at me, giggling. Couple this with the fact that every random person I passed in the store seemed to hone in on my belly and stare, as if they’d never before seen a knocked-up chick. This ended up with me morphing into “that lady” that glares back at these two unsuspecting (albeit rude and annoying) kids, guffawing in feigned laughter, muttering under my breath “Oh, yeah, that’s funny! Hahahaha, reallllllll funny!” Jonathan – and I’m sure, these two kids – seemed convinced at that moment that I had gone off the reservation. Since this Bi-Lo also didn’t have the mozzarella cheese I was wanting to make Caprese salad, I became really annoyed and we went to Publix instead. After that, I ended up trying to explain to Jonathan how men can’t possibly understand what pregnancy is like because they have “stupid, stupid penises and that’s all they think with” and then crying like a baby in the car in our driveway because I was “a horrible person who didn’t deserve to be anybody’s mother.” Oh, yes, we have reached that point.
God bless Jonathan for being so sweet about all of this. He laughed at my very seriously intended “stupid penises” comment, but he at least was able to see that I’m a woman possessed at this point.
So, as week 30 is rapidly approaching us…well, some stuff is changing. But it’s not bad stuff – just pregnancy stuff. As I’ve said many times throughout this whole thing and each time some new symptom or side effect pops up – “In 5 or 10 weeks, this will seem like small beans.” Well, it’s starting to hit now that in just another 10 weeks, ALL of this could really seem like small beans, because I could be holding my son. I have this sneaking suspicion that seeing his precious little face will make every mood swing, every craving, and every discomfort evaporate from memory. I just can’t wait for him to be here!