Because it is my goal to make sure that the readers of this site (all three of you) are REALLY, REALLY AWARE of the possible side effects before you procreate, anyone who tells you that pregnancy is a nine-month endeavor is mistaken. 40 weeks shakes out closer to ten months, kids, and don’t let them tell you differently. You’ll need that extra month to remind your husband why he should make you cookies (which Tom happened to do this evening, entirely without prompting. I do love that man). But even with cookies, you’re going to be pregnant for about a month longer than you might have been told when you were a tender youth learning about the biological processes that put Mr. Stork out of a job.
Like Carmela Soprano, you can’t say you weren’t warned.
Today was the start of my 28th week of pregnancy, or what I consider to be the start of my seventh month. Like clockwork, I woke up with the numb hips and shooting thigh pain that came to characterize my third trimester with Maggie. I’ve used all manner of body pillows and sleeping positions and y’all, it is what it is and there’s no way around it. The third trimester is, by design, just uncomfortable. It’s supposed to be; otherwise how would we get to the point where we’re EXCITED to have an 8lb ham-loaf come rocketing out of our nethers? Let me tell you: it took a mere five hours from start to stitches to deliver Maggie, who weighed in at a hearty 8lbs 3oz with a head that measured in the 90th percentile. Recovering from that was still better than my third trimester because a) I could sleep on my back or belly if I chose, b) I could eat without fear of reflux or without interference from fetal feet, and c) it cannot be said enough: I COULD SLEEP ON MY BACK OR BELLY. Options, sweet options!
But I digress. Lower body numbness is just how my mornings are going to begin for the next twelve or so weeks. The best way to ease my legs back into the land of the living is to eat breakfast sitting on a large exercise ball so I can stretch and work the muscles gently as I wake up. The second part is to take a nice walk and keep mobile. Easy enough when you have a toddler who, much like a terrier, needs to be walked and exercised routinely or her constant motion and yapping will snap the ever-thinning cord of your patience.
I complain (oh, how I do complain) but the truth is that beside the horrific nausea of my first 20-odd weeks, I have easy pregnancies. Everything I experienced in the third trimester with Maggie was more or less par for the course and it appears to be going the same way this time. To be a healthy, fully-functional engine growing a life is a pretty cool thing–it was certainly awesome in Portugal, where I could (mostly) hold my own against the hills, provided Tom did the heavy toddler lifting (I do so love that man). Essentially I’m just at the point where my thoughts run from “Ughhh, twelve more weeks…” to “We’re going to have a baby in twelve weeks, OMGWTFBBQ?!?!” It’s exciting. Hip-numbing, but exciting.
I can do this. I’ve got this. Just twelve weeks left.