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…