82.5% Baked: BBJ3

When I was 34 weeks pregnant with Quinn, I barely complained. Check it out for yourself... that post is back here. But, even though I'm finally "very pregnant" in winter and not dealing with three-digit temps of summer while in the later part of pregnancy, and I've not gained as much weight as I had at that point with Quinn (only 18 pounds now compared to 25 at that time), I'm singing a different tune this go-round. I've come to think of the end of the third trimester as an unraveling. My most recent analogy of the third trimester is that of a visit to a restaurant with my children. It goes a little something like this:

It all starts off okay. We are excited to be at the restaurant, a place where we are happy to be and ready for a great meal. We are seated at our table, everyone is happy and calm, we are considering what to order while the boys happily color on a children's menu or speak quietly about what they want to eat. Then, we wait, and wait, and they start getting louder and more impatient. They whine and complain; they tug on our arms asking when will the food be there. They push away from the table; they need to go to the bathroom, again; they change their mind about what they ordered. Then, the food finally arrives, but chaos continues to ensue: they drop their food on the floor; they spill their drink; they refuse to eat what they ordered; they want what the other brother ordered; they interrupt adult conversation; they start crying or yelling or both. Other patrons are staring, and the waiter is not coming fast enough with the check. Sam and I look at each other with frustration thinking: "Why did we even come here?!" or "This sucks!" as the scene continues to fall apart, tantrums begin or continue, and not one word of thanks is given for a "fun night out."

I know, it's a weird analogy, but in the past couple of weeks, especially throughout winter break when we've had ample opportunities to go out with the kids and chaos prevails, I find myself thinking, "This is what pregnancy is like - right here!" Everyone's been asking how I've been doing lately - how I'm feeling and if I'm hanging in there. And, with Banner & Quinn, both pregnancies had me barely complaining, so when the stereotypes of the third trimester have started seeping their way in to my current status, I was not thrilled. I feel like my body IS chaos, a complete disaster right now.

True, things could be worse, and true, we are both happy and healthy right now, so I won't complain about that at all! I'm grateful that I feel my baby moving inside my belly ..... all the time and with such force! I'm also grateful for every day he chooses to stay inside it, grateful that my body hasn't given out when it so feels like it could any second! So, yes, thankful and gracious for this beautiful time.

At the same time, I'm gonna go ahead and start complaining. That's what I said to my OB last week at my appointment. When she walked in, she said, "How are you doing?" I said, "I'm good, but I'm ready to start complaining." She said, "You've been so good this whole time; I think it's about time you start complaining. Tell me." So, I went on to tell her about my sciatic pain on the left side of my lower back that shoots down my bottom with every step. Luckily, this pain comes and goes from one day to the next, but it's there about every other day. I told her about the severe pressure I've been feeling way low and how this little nugget doesn't utilize his full space. She agreed I'm carrying low, and we discussed some options for belly support, but nothing's helped so far. My uterus comes up way higher than I've ever felt him, so while he has the space, he's not stretching up that way. I'd actually welcome a jab in the rib cage or a difficult deep breath because he's up so high... because BBJ3 is hanging out a little too low for my liking. He's head down, and he pushes out to the sides rather often, but never upward. Most every day I imagine this little guy is going to just fall right out of me. And finally, we talked about the frequency of my Braxton Hicks contractions... several times an hour, but never painful. They do take my breath away and I often have to stop what I'm doing to just breathe through it - but mostly just "uncomfortable." My OB says all of this is completely normal, that everything I'm describing is pretty common for a third pregnancy at this point, and that most women in my same position complain much earlier. I was actually relieved to hear this. I like words like "common" and "normal" when I feel like things are wrong or unusual. It's reassuring I'm not the only one.

Since that visit last week, lower leg cramps are starting to get to me, even if I eat a banana every day. Last night was the worst. It started with my left calf cramping up. Once I woke up enough to realize what was happening, I was able to work it out by flexing my foot up. As that was resolving, my right shin started cramping, so I needed to point that foot for relief. So, I've got one foot flexed and the other pointed, and then my right big toe started cramping as I pointed it. I used my hands to pull it toward me while pointing the other toes down, and that's when my right hip decided to trigger the fire of a thousand suns. On my one day to "sleep in" (whatever that means now!) because I don't have to rush off to work, I was up long before the boys were, standing over the edge of my bed trying to uncramp myself without waking Sam.

I then got back in bed and tried not to move too much, so I wouldn't set off another round of Charley horses. But trying to get comfortable when 33 weeks pregnant is not an easy feat. There's a bit of "hoisting" that goes on between the large belly and the body pillow. But, I did finally get comfortable... and then Quinn came in our room, and sleep time was over.

Yesterday, the day winter break ended and I returned to work for staff development day, I am pretty sure I had a touch of food poisoning. I started feeling pretty crummy Sunday afternoon out of the blue. My tummy felt uneasy, I was nauseous, and nothing sounded appealing to eat at all later in the evening. I was up every other hour with a belly ache and chills, and by the morning, I was severely nauseous and faint feeling. I pushed through it because I wanted to get to work and not miss a day before my leave starts in February. And, when I finally threw up like I've never thrown up before, I felt so much better. But, being sick while pregnant - not fun, and certainly not an easy way to welcome the new year or the new semester.

Like I said, chaos. Unraveling. Reflux, leg cramps, Braxton Hicks, sciatic issues, shooting pains, occasional nausea, kick counting, bending down to help dress my kids or clean a spill, trying to rock a Quinn who can't get comfortable on my disappearing lap or to lay with Banner on the top bunk of his bed, trying to name this baby - and who he's named after and who his Godparents are, all while returning to work (where the mere idea of standing up from my chair to go make a copy or go check my mailbox makes me cringe) and trying to keep up with these two big boys of mine, it all makes 6 more weeks sound like a really, really, really long time! I know it will fly by, and later I'll miss the feel of the jabs and hiccups and twists and turns, or the (relative) quiet of the night. But, I'm just being honest. This is 33 weeks pregnant, and it ain't gonna get any easier. So 6 more weeks until B-Day... 41 days to go... it's so soon...it's so far away.