Two down, one to go

This week marks the beginning of my third trimester this pregnancy.  12 more weeks, 66% done, 2/3 out of the way…that might sound like it’s not too much longer but the end still feels so far.  

Cause truth be told pregnancy, at least for me, is rough.  Maybe because this is my third time around, maybe because I’m older, but whatever, this just isn’t my jam.  Charlie will be 5 at the end of this month, so it’s been exactly 5 years since my last pregnancy, and five years is a long time.  You forget a lot.  

Like food cravings, muscle cramps, endless, endless, endless trips to the bathroom all throughout the day and into the middle of the night and each of those trips involving extra time spent on the pot waiting for aaaaaaaall the pee to come out.  Cause it hides in there.  My bladder has developed reservoirs.  I had forgotten about swollen feet come late afternoon, trying to do dishes with a basketball sized lump under my shirt, carrying things up and down stairs incessantly, squatting over and over to pick up after my children because they they are SYSTEMATICALLY DESTROYING my house with their stuff everywhere, and top all of these off with the constant exhaustion, heartburn and the feeling of an alien moving around inside me.  Also, whatever temperature it is at any given moment, my internal temp feels at least 20 degrees hotter.  Thinking back to last November when I was sitting on my sister-in-law’s couch and we were jokingly talking about how much fun it would be to get pregnant and be able to enjoy each of our third pregnancies together - I step out into the 98 degree heat at 8:30 yesterday morning and say out loud - “yah…whaaaaat were we thinking”.  At night I have a fan pointed directly at me along with our a/c unit on full blast, I’m wearing next to nothing and covered by a sheet.  Poor Ryan’s under our comforter shivering.  

And, I was reminded this last week as to why I like to hibernate the last part of my pregnancy.  People’s comments, for the most part, suck.  Seeing a pregnant woman activates a vomit-like reflex in them and they CAN NOT HELP THEMSELVES but to comment, ask questions, touch, etc.  A gal said I looked pretty large for being only six months along and followed up asking if there was a possibility that I had multiples in there.  Where’s my straight eyes, straight mouth line emoji?  

And the emotional ups and downs are a new / familiar sensation.  Did you see that Ellen episode where Kristen Bell talked about the sloths?  She said something along the lines of being between a 4 and a 7 on an emotional scale at all times.  Any lower than a 4 and she’s crying and any higher than a 7 - same.  I’m right there with her.  Anything too sad or too sweet on TV, in a book, or in a newspaper article and I’m crying.  The Olympics are uniquely timed so all the feels happen with any given commercial about an athlete thanking their parents or pushing themselves with an iron type of will to be the best they can be - excuse me, I’ll be on my couch bawling.  Speaking of Olympics, that’s something every woman in their 7th month of pregnancy needs to see - female bodies at their physical peak of perfection.  Good times.     

Now, I really don’t want to sound like a pessimistic, whiny mom, and also don’t want to seem mentally unsteady by vacillating so widely with my emotions, but honestly as much as it’s difficult, and taxing and uncomfortable - it’s all so awesome.  I get to have another baby.  And I feel really, really lucky for that.  And there are some sweet bonuses to being pregnant.  In fact, most of the hard symptoms have a positive side.  Getting up to pee in the middle of the night - good training for feedings once the baby is here.  To step into that cold turkey would be rough.  Swollen feet?  Great excuse to relax on the couch and put them up.  Dishes getting tricky?  Sweet husband swoops in and helps out.  Extra trips up and down the stairs?  Toning those leg muscles…especially since they're the only ones I’m somewhat capable of controlling.  Messy rooms full of kids toys?  Let’s purge.  I’m reading Little House in the Big Woods to the kids and Laura grew up with a doll made out of a corn cob.  My kids have sufficient and could stand to get rid of some stuff.  Exhausted?  Nap.  Heartburn?  Tums.  Baby moving all around?  Marvel at the miracle.  Too hot out?  A/C.  

Also, the aforementioned sis-in-law is just one of my partners in this upcoming season.  Five girls, including her, that I know and love are right along with me, four being due a few weeks before me and one a couple months after.  Hearing and seeing and being on the same page as all of them has brought about a lot of peace.  Another advantage to time having gone by since my last pregnancy are the changes in maternity clothes, did you know they now have nursing tops?  Thank you, Trunk Club and Topshop.  I feel like people give me preference in random situations too.  EVERYONE opens doors for me, lets me go first, gives me kind smiles - I love it.  Those food cravings aren’t all bad, cause food tastes better - peaches last weekend at Saturday Market - YAAAAAAAAAS please.  And Rosie’s Inferno's pizza, thank you for existing.  Orange juice, dill pickles, mac & cheese, chilled watermelon, Honey Nut Cheerios with sliced bananas, the JD and Kung Fu roll at G street bar & grill, anything with lemon flavor, strawberry popsicles, Dr. Pepper, cheez-it crackers - all of the things.  I want all of them.  

And my highest, most wonderful, absolute favorite thing to focus on is the knowledge that with every Pampers commercial I watch, every scroll through old videos and pictures of my kids on my Instagram page, every night putting them down to sleep and feeling that twinge of gratitude and sadness at the same time - ALL these feelings cause me to look at the two that I’ve already ushered through solid foods, first steps, potty training, and learning the alphabet and I stop and praise the Lord that I have one more to go.