Weeks:  28.  AKA third trimester. AKA ohmygawd.
Baby is the size of: An eggplant.
Weight gain: Yup.
Cravings: Nothing new.  Except I want to drink the shit out of this. How good does that look??  Now, who would like to come over and make it for me?
Sleep:  Meh.  Ok-ish.  Although I’ve been awoken by some gnarly charley horses in my legs more often than necessary lately.  Did you know that Australians call charley horses “corkies”?  Isn’t that something?
Movement:  I can see the baby moving through my clothes these days, which is sort of the coolest thing ever.  I find myself staring down at my belly quite often, waiting to see a little tap or a big shift… I’m sure I look really normal and not weird at all to anyone who might be observing.
Symptoms:  Heavy breathing.  No, but seriously.  Breathing is a challenge lately.  And I didn’t really understand this side effect until I saw a picture of how smushed pregnant women’s lungs get when there’s a human taking up all the space on the insides.  It’s pretty remarkable.  I had a really stupid day yesterday and came home from work feeling bummed and bloated and just altogether weird (yayyyy hormones).  As soon as I got home, I hoisted myself onto our bed, cried for no good reason and just heavy breathed for like, 30 minutes.  Casey brought me mac and cheese to make me feel better, and I kept thinking that if I happened to be on a reality TV show, my life in that moment would have been so hysterically depressing to watch.  So, anyway.  The moral of that story is heavy breathing.
Missing:  98% of my wardrobe.  I recently tried on a few of my pre-pregnancy dresses, in hopes of finding something to wear to one of my baby showers.  What a disaster. I knew that my belly had grown, obvi, but I clearly underestimated my basketball boobs and an ass that now requires it’s own zip code.  What I’m saying is, there’s a reason for maternity clothes, my friends.  And if I could please have all the Hatch pregnancy clothes, I’d happily stay pregnant forevs.
Happenings:  We made it through the dreaded birthing videos at our last baby class.  I was pretty nervous about seeing the videos, I’ll be honest.  I hadn’t ever watched an actual birth, from the angle of the, ahem, nether regions, and I was psyching myself up for seeing all kinds of mass chaos.  But really, the videos were pretty tasteful and there were barely any crotch-shots.  Which is all you can really hope for in life, right?

Fun story.  The espadrilles I’m wearing in these photos are a tad too big for me.  So in an effort to keep them on my feet, I tried to find something to stuff into the front of them to make them more snug.  I first tried toilet paper, but it sort of crumbled and then I had little bits of TP stuck to my feet all day.  Next I tried cotton, but that keep getting caught in my toes and was uncomfortable.  Finally, I found the perfect, soft, tiny solution.  Baby socks.  That’s right, I borrowed my unborn child’s socks and stuffed them into the front of my shoes.  I really don’t think the baby minds, and I fully intend on giving them back to him/her once they exit the womb and actually have the need for socks.

I’m already rethinking telling that story…