The time has come to bid a fond farewell to the
sight of my toes. Standing up straight and looking down I can now
barely see them peeping out beneath the bulge that is my belly.
I look ridiculously tall with my toes extremely far away, but that is
an accurate depiction of how I feel. They may as well stretch
to the moon for all the ability that I have to put my own boots on.
With 10 weeks left on the clock, the third trimester has brought quite a few “Baby’s first” experiences:
- Baby’s first stretch mark: Sad day- the skin around my appendectomy scar just can’t get with the program- Baby’s first 3 a.m. feeding: Little angel woke me up and demanded to be fed Corn Chex. NOW.
- Baby’s first extreme hot flash: Inconveniently coordinated with Zach’s nightly, hours-long hot flash.
- Baby’s first unsolicited unfamily/friend belly rub: Thank you random unrestrained church lady.
I thought when I hit about five months that I was getting SO BIG. Ha. I had no idea what big was, and I'm sure it will only get worse from here.
20 weeks vs 30 weeks. Yeah, I only appreciate my body in hindsight.
Two Fast Sundays until GO TIME and I sense extreme paranoia coming on,
a feeling that is not encouraged by constant emails from the BabyCenter
website. Apparently my Thanksgiving should have been spent wielding a meat
thermometer every five minutes and avoiding all foods with egg or
alcohol for fear that they weren’t cooked in all the way. The pressure
makes me want to burst into confession. Yes! I’ve knowingly had sushi
at least three times since becoming pregnant! Yes! I still eat raw
cookie dough and deli meat! Yes! I drink crystal light! And No! I haven’t signed
up for birthing, breastfeeding, hypnosis, acupuncture or parenting
classes! My nursery isn’t ready, my house isn’t sanitized, I haven’t
been taking weekly pictures of my growing belly and I’m not clear on the
finer points of swaddling.
