So, we’re wrapping up our last trimester of our (most likely) last baby. I am less than three weeks from full term, although I hope she cooks long beyond that mile marker. Nevertheless, it’s reassuring that I am feeling largely back to normal. I see the midwife this week and I think she will be as happy as I am that the painful contractions are gone (although I’m still having MANY braxton hicks contractions each day), and also gone is the feeling that my baby is going to fall out, which is always good.
After the stair debacle, we have had more than two weeks of altered family life where Tim has been on baby duty and I have been on the sidelines without lifting. It’s very weird for me, but it’s also been eye opening to have Tim here with me and to see him step into a full time baby routine with little trouble and surprising enjoyment. He will enthusiastically attest to the daily challenges of having three kids under age four in the afternoons.
I won’t be keeping them anymore until after the baby comes, and I’m so glad Tim was here to help me (slash do all the work) until they could find different care. Tim is back to work tomorrow, so Silas and I will be doing our thing and getting back to our old routine, minus the lifting. Methinks Si won’t begrudge getting to climb the stairs or step into his bed by himself with the help of a step stool. He’s very independent these days.
When I was pregnant with Silas Peter, I was sick until my third trimester and I welcomed it with open arms despite lots of heartburn. This pregnancy, I had the classic 2nd trimester honeymoon period and the 3rd trimester delivered typical aches and pains, sore ribs that won’t stay in place, and once again an uncomfortable transverse breech baby. I am still wearing my rings and have virtually no swelling this time, which is nice! Similarly to last pregnancy, super tart lemonade sounds amazing and gives me terrible heartburn. I keep drinking it anyway every few weeks.
I’m holding steady at about 20 pounds of weight gain, which the midwife is happy with even though it’s on the low side. Generally I am still feeling really good with interspersed bouts of moon face and beached whale tendencies. I need help almost every time I try to get out of bed lately. Poor Tim!
Speaking of Tim, he has some Couvade Syndrome going on with this pregnancy just like he did last time. He had a few bouts of nausea when I had morning sickness and has once again put on some sympathy weight. We lovingly refer to it as his burrito baby. I think it’s safe to say we’re equally excited about getting outside this summer and walking off our collective baby bodies.
I’ll have you know I painted my own toenails today at 34 weeks pregnant. Feeling pretty proud of that, although Tim asked me if I was ok a few times in the short process since I was gasping for breath trying to reach the final few toes. You know you’re near the end of pregnancy when your husband resorts to calling you Big Mama instead of other terms of endearment.
While I’m happy to let this little bella grow as long as she’ll stay in there, I’m looking forward to the end of pregnant life these days. She feels bigger than Silas ever was and I can’t keep her out of my rib cage for any length of time. I’m happy she seems to be a little more robust than he was, even if it means my belly button is less recognizable than it was last time and my sleep is nonexistent.
Aside from third trimester discomforts, I think this time I am also looking forward to the end of pregnancy because I know how it feels to greet a human I grew in my own body. It’s really an amazing thing. I’m getting really excited to meet her and hold her and (heaven help us) decide what to name her.
Up next: an attempt at some pregnancy pictures before this baby gets here and we have none, a midwife visit to make a game plan for getting a head down bambina, and a bit more cooking for the nearly stocked freezer.