Friday, June 21, 2013

Diary of a Preggo: Let there be Light

I can’t complain that much about the third trimester. You know why? No matter how miserable you are, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

When you are miserable in the first trimester, things are just more bleak. That’s because you have like 8 months to go and are incredibly afraid that all of these symptoms are going to persist. 

Also, the baby doesn’t seem quite real back then. You aren’t showing, you aren’t telling people yet, and you still are worried about the possibility of early miscarriage. Things are just so much more exciting when you make it to the third tri. At this point, even if I go into labor prematurely, my baby has a 99% chance of survival.

So when I named a recent post “Almost There,” I meant it. That has been my mantra ever since I hit seven months. At this point I have about six weeks left, and I feel like I can get through pretty much anything for six weeks. Especially since I am finished with all of the tough, stressful things I needed to get through during this pregnancy - such as moving and directing a huge event that I am in charge of at work. I have either slowed or temporarily quit my volunteer commitments, work is virtually stress-free, and I don’t have any major pressing things to be completed in the next few weeks. 

These upcoming summer days are going to be slow-going, which is exactly what I need right now.

 In addition, the major pain I had been feeling early in my third trimester has subsided. Thanks to twice-weekly meetings with a chiropractor and physical therapy, as well as watching my physical activity, I am almost pain-free. Some days it flares up a little, but it is NOTHING compared to what it was. My physical therapist actually said she thought I may have had a slipped disc that worked it’s way back into place, and that is why I’m doing so much better. It doesn’t surprise me, based on the level of the pain I had.

Plus, in your third trimester, people see that you are very obviously pregnant. They understand that you have to walk slow and need help opening doors/carrying things. Even coworkers totally understand your need to be lazy due to fatigue and other ailments. They know why you are bloated and swollen. My boss doesn’t even blink an eye about me wearing my gym shoes to work due to not being able to fit into any other shoes.

 People sympathize with your condition, which makes a world of a difference. Even my husband, a majorly active/borderline hyperactive person, has been good at finding activities to release his energy, such as a church softball league, so that he doesn’t run me down all the time. At this point, he can’t possibly expect me to keep up with him. I wish I could, but it doesn’t matter if it’s incredibly beautiful outside, all I want to do when I get home from work is lay back and put my swollen feet up. 

Sometimes I get into bed at 9p.m., even if I’m not tired yet, simply because my body hurts and I can’t get into a comfortable position anywhere else. (I have an AMAZING body pillow – plus it’s the only quiet place to read in my current abode).

I’m also getting excited about the birth, something I could barely fathom in the first tri. Strange as it may seem, I am actually really looking forward to it. I want to see my little girl and I want to begin this new life!

 I’ve been carrying her around for so long and preparing for her arrival that I don’t care what kind of pain it will take to get her out! I’ve already reviewed my birth plan with my doctor and he was incredibly kind and accommodating about it, which only confirmed that I made a good decision sticking with him. I am giving birth in a big, beautiful new hospital with my husband by my side. A couple of months later, I am moving into a big, beautiful house that is now being built. I will be happily busying myself decorating the nursery before then.

Yes, I have some major heartburn, a little back pain, restless leg syndrome, and majorly swollen ankles. I feel fat and disgusting. I am hot all the time and tired pretty much constantly.

 But --- I see that light at the end of the tunnel.

And based on the 16-year olds I saw in my birthing class, things could be a whole lot worse. Life is good. : )