The third trimester is here! I have been pregnant for 28 weeks--196 days. That means 3 months left. That's 12 weeks, or 84 days to go. And I know there's no guarantee that I will have this baby ON the due date, but Jay was born on his due date and Rose was born 7 hours after her due date. So with my track record, I feel safe to use those numbers. If they're a few days off, I'll deal with that when it comes. I need my countdown.
Last Wednesday @27 weeks.
I am so glad to be in the home stretch of my last, hardest pregnancy! Every day is like a gift, saying "here you go, that's another day done." It's so nice to always have that one guarantee every single night, no matter how little I felt able to accomplish that day, the day is DONE. Each time I go to bed, I wake up the next morning with less days left. That makes it sound like I live in a horrible tick-tock-tick-tock state of mind. I really try not to let the countdown control me. I want to find the joy in every day and be happy in spite of how I feel physically. It is my challenge right now. Some days I triumph and other days I break down and my patient husband (and/or my Mom) has to listen to yet another boo-hoo-for-me monolog. But the days are passing. Next month is September, which is only one month before the month of my due date!
And although I still rarely can think of anything that sounds good enough to cook (1-2 times per week on a good week) and I still feel nauseated to some degree 24/7, when I compare my current self to my one-month-ago self, I can tell I'm doing better. As long as I take that blasted anti-barf medicine.
Three weeks ago I experimented with my medicine dosage because I noticed that I was up another rung on the ladder from the queasy abyss. I tried only taking one of the two pills--the Zofran--for two whole days. Then I started feeling worse and worse and weaker and more dangerous (aka close to barfing). And with the way things have gone this pregnancy, I fear barfing above all else because once I start, I can never stop till I'm stuck full of needles and half dead. So I swallowed two pills again and it took two more days for me to climb back onto the previous rung of that ladder. While that experiement did not land me in the ER like my last experiment did, it was kind of disheartening to have such strong evidence of my dependence on the anti-puke pills. I keep hoping that I'll be able to stop taking them, but I think I'll put those hopes on the shelf for another month or two...or just wait till I'm not pregnant anymore.
Piglet, modeling a diaper and shoes.
This week I think I have been feeling a little bit nesty! That is a fun feeling when you have the "surge of energy" that the books claim accompanies the nesting urge. But I feel nesty minus the energy part. So nothing is coming of it except me asking (and trying to resist asking) Jeff to do even more for me, poor man. What is energy, anyways? I have this vague memory of what it feels like, but I can't really imagine myself having any of it right now. Every single thing I do takes careful thought. I have a tiny bucket of energy to ration out each day, and it is usually used up by feeding myself and keeping the kitchen clean. Every now and then I can cook something and I once in a while I do go to the store or clean somthing else in the house, only to spend the next 24+ hours plastered to my recliner with droopy eyelids. Three hours of church on Sunday makes me literally unable to keep my eyes open when we get home. It is a strange feeling to be so out of control of mySELF!
This baby girl seems to enjoy break dancing, especially late at night. I tried getting a video of my stomach rippling for you, but I only got one or two good pokes. Often, my belly shakes and jumps alarmingly high. Jeff even saw it the other night.
And then there are the SHAKY hunger pangs. My appetite is growing, while my ability to think of edible foods remains the same. It gets tricky. When I start getting hungry and I don't know what to eat, I feel so cornered! If I wait too long, I get super shaky. My hands tremble visibly and I feel weak. My kind doctor let me opt out of the glucose screening test because I'd never survive a morning without breakfast. Speaking of shaky hunger...
PEACHES!
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