Welcome to the third trimester.
I'm just, you know, hanging around, Large Marge-ing it up, taking in the scenery. We are heading into the down hill slope of this pregnancy. Knowing you're having a C-section means knowing you have only 12 weeks left. Here...we...come...
Although, just between you and me, I would so not be surprised if this one pulls some ridiculous go into labor the night before the C-section ploy for attention. She's already a wild child in there. No womb can contain her. No date will be picked for her. This is just my guess. I figured Sam would have stayed until June if they hadn't sprung him and knowing that guy in real life now, yep. June.
Ah but anyways, the third trimester. So happy to see you.
Now that I look like I'm due tomorrow (head shake), I get asked all the time now where I'm at in my pregnancy. I'm sure these well-wishers mean which week or which month or which trimester but I like to look at this a little different.
Here is where I'm "at" in my pregnancy and what I would like my answer to be:
I'm in the "Wearing leggings unapologetically and without grace all day everyday" trimester.
Bye, bye jeans. The belly panel doesn't fit over my massive gut anymore so I now have every excuse to dress like a casual bum daily. Oh and for tops above these classy Tar-jay leggings - does my shirt cover everything? I couldn't tell you and I couldn't care less. Out of sight, out of mind takes on a whole new meaning at this stage.
I'm "Being able to fit the largest underwear in my drawer" weeks along.
This was a big (get it?) milestone that I achieved last week. Can I still squeeze into my Victoria Secret size smalls? Sure. And 27 clowns can fit in a VW. Tight, but we can make it work. But now, well now, we've crossed into the planet sized Fruit of the Looms that last pregnancy I reserved for only post-c section already. Look alive. We are rocking these all day everyday and loving it.
OH! See above and raise you I'm in month "panty lines, what panty lines?" of the pregnancy. I'll repeat. Out of sight. Out of mind. There are so many new lines and rolls on my body, I don't have time to stop and worry about panty lines. Please. Besides, wearing anything else would ruin the level of comfortable that my maternity leggings provide so bring on the judgment.
I'm in the "beached whale" trimester.
Rolling over, getting into bed, standing up from the ground: these are monumental tasks that I no longer take lightly. Not that much about me is lightly anymore but still. These take herculean effort, several grunts, a few running starts. I love it because it's practically exercise and let's be honest, theoretical exercise is the closest I'll come to any physical activity right now so watch me get on and off the couch and break a sweat. It's good times.
"Gee I wish I could help but I'm pregnant" stage of this gestation.
This actually has several sub categories: The oh I wish I could help paint/move/lift but I'm too pregnant; also, oh I wish I could go on that hike up that mountain with you and Sam but I'm too pregnant; man, I'd love to do anything but sit and watch Vampire Diaries but I'm pregnant and swamped with growing a human. Huge departure from non-pregnant life? No. BUT I have an excuse now so I'll be milking that until January and then "sorry, I JUST had a C-section" until about May 2018. Rough estimate.
The "I'm so pregnant dumb I shouldn't handle any equipment" phase
Wow. Pregnancy brain is a real thing and I real have it. Last week, I was unable to find the middle of an object 43 inches long. As I thought to myself "well, this is impossible, you can't divide 43 in half" Chuck said "21.5". Thank God someone here can still do basic math. Or remember words like difference, tortilla, and bath tub all of which have escaped me lately. I say left and go right, I stare at walls because they are pretty, I couldn't half a recipe without a calculator at this point. I am dumb.
I'm in month "I sneezed therefore I peed"
I think this is fairly self explanatory but maybe MAYBE - light bulb moment - I should combine my love for over sized underwear with my penchant for pee-sneezing and jump 60 years to go right into Depends. This could solve a lot of my problems. What is the panty line situation for those guys? Oh wait. I don't care.
See, I think this would be a much better way to say where I'm at in my pregnancy than "27 weeks" or "just starting the third trimester". Those don't really seem to capture the essence of life right now. And life right now is beyond Ferris Beuller (...moving pretty fast...).