There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call…
the Third Trimester.
My Second Trimester was a beautiful, beautiful thing. Sure, the first few weeks I still battled a bit of nausea, but before I knew it I had a slew of energy and a healthy appetite. My First Trimester was brutal (I will discuss this in a later post), and coming into my Second, and feeling so much more myself, was a huge deal. As the weeks went on I became more and more clear-headed, hungry, and happy. I have to say I’m both surprised and pleased by how well my hormones have handled themselves (barring, of course, my 21 week meltdown) throughout the course of this pregnancy. Parts of it have been rough, absolutely, but I’ve been able to bounce back from upset fairly quickly and have only flipped out on my husband… I’d say twice. He might estimate a slightly higher number, but I’m sticking with twice.
During the past few weeks, Babby has had a serious growth spurt. I know, because 1) I’m large and in charge, 2) I feel kicks and movement constantly, and 3) our midwife is now able to find her heartbeat quickly and easily with the fetoscope. My uterus is measuring 1cm ahead of schedule, Babby’s heartrate is a lovely 144 beats per minute, and my blood pressure at my last prenatal was 108/73. Steve and I are feeling so lucky that Babby and I are so healthy and typical.
Did I mention that this child is amazingly active? When I first felt her moving around 16 weeks, I honestly did not enjoy the feeling at all. Her kicks made me jump and yelp, and her squirming around made me feel sick to my stomach. I wrestled with “Bad Mom” feelings about this and hoped that these were just new sensations that I would eventually get used to. Now, I LOVE feeling her kick and move. The baby no longer freaks me out, though sometimes an especially hard kick will still make me yelp. Instead of avoiding putting my hand or arm on my belly, I relish feeling her with my hand and also watching my belly jerk and dance. I’ve reached a point in my pregnancy where I just really do love being pregnant, and I can’t imagine only being so one more time (Sorry Steve, looks like we have to have at least 3 kiddos).
I hit 26 weeks on Monday. It seems that the Third Trimester begins at different points in pregnancy depending on one’s caregiver- for some, it begins at 26 weeks, 6 days (26+6), for others it begins at 27 or 28 weeks, and for others it’s any time between 26 and 28 weeks. I’m going to go ahead and say that my Third Trimester began at 25 weeks and 5 days: the day the exhaustion came back. I’m sure the crazy fatigue has something to do with my less than stellar sleep lately. Each time I wake having to pee, the baby wakes up, too, and dances around for what seems like forever. Last night I tossed and turned from 4am to 5:30am, willing her to sleep so I could, too. The constant peeing, baby movement, being 1000 degrees, and needing to switch side-lying positions every 5 minutes makes sleep sort of impossible and not very restful.
I’ve been dragging the past few days, mentally and physically. My clear head is officially gone, ya’ll, and my Pregnancy/Baby Brain has been kicked into high gear. Steve has been so patient with my forgetfulness, but luckily (?) for him I’ve always been a bit forgetful to begin with. Today I’ve been blessed with 50% more energy than lately so am trying to get as many brain-straining tasks done as possible- gathering print resources to share with a former client who is also a new doula!, dealing with health insurance paperwork, organizing thisandthat, writing this post.
With that, I say a sad goodbye to my Second Trimester, and welcome my Third with open arms. I don’t know what it will hold, but we are in the final stretch and I can’t believe this pregnancy is whizzing by so fast. Didn’t I just find out I was pregnant? Wasn’t I just 10 weeks and my life was a black pit of despair, dry heaving, and nausea? Where did this belly come from?