So I stumbled upon this post the other day, entitled 10 Reasons the Third Pregnancy is the Best, and I had to laugh a little bit. While there were actually many points in the post that I could relate too and identify with, I have a confession to make… I DO NOT think that my third pregnancy has been my best.
Please don’t misunderstand, or take what I am saying out of context. As someone who has suffered a pregnancy loss and watched numerous friends suffer through pregnancy struggles, I can say with certainty, that I have treasured every flutter, karate kick, and hiccup over the last several months. I am fully aware that I am blessed beyond words to be carrying yet another healthy baby, and I totally agree that the female body is amazing, in what it can do and what it is capable of… but here’s the thing, my third pregnancy has without a doubt, been the hardest for me.
I had my 30 week check up yesterday, and was shocked when the doctor told me that I have only gained 19 pounds during this pregnancy. If my memory serves me correctly, so far, this is significantly less than I gained during both of my previous pregnancies, yet this time around, I feel huge. So huge in fact, that the other night I had what I will refer to, as a total hormonal breakdown… like sobbing, ugly cry, mascara-running-down-my-face, scaring-my-husband, breakdown.
I don’t know what it is, but this time I just feel so uncomfortable. EVERYTHING seems hard to me lately… putting on socks, picking up my kids, cleaning up toys, all of it.
My apologies for the pity party, but I am literally struggling to accept how I will make it through the next 10 weeks or so. I mean deep down, I know that I will, not that I really have a choice. I am wise enough now to understand that every pregnancy is different and that this time will pass, and I will likely look back on it and not remember how awful I feel in this moment, in the same way that women often forget about the pain of labor and go on to put themselves through it over and over again… it’s just that right now, I am struggling.
I generally like to keep things pretty lighthearted around here, but I really appreciate it when people write about how they are honestly feeling, so if I sat here and tried to pretend that everything was rainbows and butterflies, I would not only be lying to myself, but to all of you.
Pregnancy is tough… it’s beautiful and wonderful, and the reward in the end is worth every struggle, but that doesn’t mean it comes without hardships.
I’m yearning so badly to meet our little guy, but I’m also yearning to have my body back to myself, to sleep comfortably, to wear normal clothes again, and to be able to tie my shoes.
So… for my “30 week bumpdate”, I will share the following stats…
1. I have been pregnant for 211 days…. It feels like 211 years.
2. Baby is supposedly the size of 4 naval oranges… Baby feels like he is the size of 4 watermelons.
3. Baby weighs around 3.3 pounds… It feels like baby weighs 33.3 pounds.
4. I should be craving apples, carrot sticks, and quinoa… I’m actually craving cupcakes, donuts, and pretty much anything covered in sprinkles.
5. Is my belly button in or out?… I don’t know, I can’t see it.
6. The overall truth… This baby is so deeply and truly loved already, so the rest of this really doesn’t matter.
And there you have it. Truthfully though, I just felt the need to get that off of my chest, and wanted any of you who are, or have felt the same way, to know, that you are not alone. Now I’m off to slip into my yoga pants, and my feet are freezing because I can’t put my own socks on… but happiest of Fridays to all of you!