There were a few weeks when I felt like, “Okay, this is the 2nd tri bliss. This is the time to get shit done. You got this. You can handle this.”
And I guess I was thinking it would stick around a bit longer, because I didn’t take advantage of it nearly enough. Many regrets. Much messy house.
Gradually, my body started to revolt. First, it was like, “Oh, it is… um… wow… not so easy to roll over in bed. ::grunt::”
Then it was like, “Okay, so sitting up is a real problem.”
Which gave way to, “Staying sitting up is even worse because now I can’t breathe if I don’t recline. So that’s cool and awkward when I’m trying to drive.”
This turned into, “I have to walk how far? Like, seriously? No. Not even from the car to the store. I hope there’s an empty cart right when I walk in that I can lean on.”
That always leads to me standing at the counter of a restaurant or coffee place, holding one hand up and the other hand under my belly, panting “One… second… please…” when they ask what I’d like to order after I walk in.
And every night, it’s Sarah McLachlan in my head, singing “I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep.”
None of this is new. These are normal things that happen to pregnant women. JUST NOT THIS SOON, not to this pregnant woman ever before. Is it because he’s my 4th? Is it because he’s Spiderman and keeps climbing higher and higher into my ribs? (Double checked, he’s definitely not breech. Big sigh of relief.)
I’m 28 weeks tomorrow. That’s only the beginning of the 3rd trimester. I have a full 3 months of this to look forward to, and I don’t recall any of this actually getting better as weeks go on.
I am feeling very late 3rd tri already, and am trying to not let this mess with me mentally. It’s one thing to white knuckle it through the last 3 weeks, but the last 3 months? I’m going to have to tell myself some real good lies.
One thing I’m not letting mess with me is weight gain. Someone (close to me – because that matters, and OMG you guys that video I did about asking if I’m sure it’s not twins is going bananas) asked yesterday if I knew how much I’d gained. I honestly don’t, and I don’t want to know. With all 3 other pregnancies, I gained basically the EXACT same- 40 to 43ish lbs. I started at different weights before each one of them, and still my body did what it had to do to grow a baby.
So I’m guessing that’s what will happen with this one, too, and there’s no real need to know. I look away when they weigh me at appointments.
I wish I could ignore all the other signs of massive growth, but they make themselves way more apparent… and make it super hard for me to breathe. So here’s to the next 12 weeks! Plus probably another 5 days, based on my history of having every baby “late.” My only hope is that I’ll be reflux free by Christmas day, and all momma wants is an open buffet of every food that makes me ill right now. Which is, basically, all the food. And coffee. AND WINE.