Unless you're wildly out-of-touch with your body, by 27ish weeks you know you're pregnant. Your family knows you're pregnant. Anyone who has seen you in the past month knows you're pregnant. And no one knows you're pregnant (and your symptoms) better than your internet browser history. And if, like most moms-to-be, you've known since right around week 5, you also KNOW you're in the third trimester. So you know all this. None of this is a revelation. But still.
1. You know exactly where the restroom is in every establishment you've patronized in the past three months. Grocery stores, gas stations, libraries, the dentist... You plan your errands around those stores with the most accessible and hygienic facilities. Perhaps you've recently decided to go for Walmart Stall Bingo.
2. The queen-sized bed that felt impossibly enormous when it was just you is now a little snug when expected to contain hubby, ever-expanding you, and the nest of pillows required to keep your little gummy bear's current digs comfy for each of the evening's hourly rollings-over. That was a terrible sentence.
3. Regardless of how many pregnant friends you've had and how many articles you've read, new and freakish symptoms still send you running to The Book or Google at least once a week. Most recent on our list: super itchy hands. Turned out my new Avon lotion didn't jive with the dish soap I'd just used, but for a good ten minutes of terror I was sure my gallbladder was failing.
4. The pictures of expansion are starting to get less fun, since by now the belly isn't the only thing that's bigger.
4b. What? I can outgrow maternity clothes?? Is that even legal?
5. The chiropractor is your best friend. I look forward to my OB visits because I like knowing that everything is going well on the inside and getting some of my weirder questions answered, but I always know exactly how many days until my next chiro appointment. And how many days since my last one. I move so much better, have fewer Braxton-Hicks contractions and back complaints, and have way more energy for the week following my last visit. Cannot recommend enough.
6. Offers for help with physical tasks are more welcomed and much less patronizing than they seemed a month ago. It's amazing the psychological roadblock being unable to reach your feet sets up.
7. Your TMI filter clearly needs changing. It's amazing what slips through there. Perhaps it is not realistic to assume that anyone who asks how you're doing is interested in the frequency and consistency of your bowel movements.
7b. And on that topic - Holy. Cow. Good thing you can't access my browser history from there.
8. "When will this be OVER?" is conquered only by the terror of visiting and then visualizing yourself in the delivery room during your L&D hospital tour. Yikes. Nope. We're good. Not thinking about that yet.
9. It is normal, though not at all enjoyable, to go from perfectly awesome to tears with the slightest provocation. You know you're overreacting. But you still power through that second box of Kleenex. Oh, joyous return of the pregnancy hormone imbalances and borderline-bipolar symptoms they create.
10. Feeling the baby move is still awesome, but more akin to gestating an extremely squirmy ferret than the sleepy newborn you've been picturing. Kid rocks out. Especially at bedtime and about an hour before you have to get up in the morning. Except that you do have to get up now because Jr. loves nothing so much as bouncing on your bladder. Well played, short stack. Well played.
No comments:
Post a Comment