The past ten days went by entirely too quickly, even though they were tons of fun and I had a blast having Tim around…mostly because he’d make me breakfast and do things that are becoming increasingly difficult for me.
I’m definitely going to recap our “break” but I figured a belly shot was in order first.
Perfect way to ring in the new year, right?
2012 is the year of the sprout (and the year of good things…more on that later)
Anyway, it’s no joke getting up off of the couch when your front is astronomically bigger than your back. I’ve perfected the barrel roll, though, so that’s something.
To top it off, Tim pointed out that we only have SIX WEEKS until baby sprout is due.
Thanksgiving was six weeks ago.
And that doesn’t feel like very long. AT. ALL.
I’m not ready, yet, though I’m starting to get to the point where six weeks is entirely too long to think about having to lug this boy around in mah belly. I’m ready to have *my* body back. I’ve been renting it out for almost nine months and I am completely tired – literally – of the 24 hour demands.
Third trimester fatigue is real, people, and it is exhausting.
It feels like I’m suffocating at night because my lungs have been completely squished. Getting dressed puts me out of breath (sad). I’m tired all of the time. I get up to pee…all of the time. Sometimes, the sprout will kick or head butt or something my ribs so hard they feel bruised from the inside for a day or he’ll kick my bladder, resulting in a bathroom emergency.
My back will ache if I sit in one position too long and can we please mention how my hips are wider than the Grand Canyon and my thighs are now like tree trunks?!
Dislike, pregnancy. Severely dislike these side effects.
I understand it may be necessary but it is not comfortable or enjoyable. Please halt the “pregnancy is beautiful” comments. I live in sweats and Victoria’s Secret yoga pants. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!
There is nothing beautiful about grunting when doing the barrel roll getting yourself off of the couch.
I’ve been trying to make sure I get in at least four days of exercise, even though I have to force myself to get out and just DO IT. It makes me feel at least a little bit more normal.
Exercise, as much as I’m all for the extreme, has now mostly become walking the dogs three miles…sometimes more…never less…or an hour on the elliptical with my muscle conditioning and barre tone classes sprinkled in for good measure.
And let me just say, I didn’t realize how much more difficult it would be to do weight-bearing exercises when I’m having to LIFT thirty pounds more than I’ve ever had to before in my life.
The other week in one of the classes, we were doing squats, using the barre bar (like a ballet bar) to hold onto and about half way through I’m all, “My legs are on FIRE! Why is this so HARD?!”
And then it dawned on me.
My legs are having to repeatedly lift my overly heavy, gargantuan self versus the lighter version.
I’d be screaming my protest, too, if I were them (which I am…technically).
Anyhow, to the belly!
Since my last belly shot, baby sprout has definitely gotten bigger because *I* have gotten bigger.
versus now, at 33 weeks, 4 days…
I’m almost afraid of what the next six weeks will bring because child is running out of space! I have no idea how long he is or any guesstimate on his weight. The only way we’d figure that out is if we A: paid for an ultrasound (which we won’t do) or B: had to get an ultrasound if they thought he was breech or transverse or measuring ahead or behind his due date.
As of right now, he has always been measuring right on track and my OB will recheck his position at 36 weeks and go from there since he was transverse at my last appointment (32 weeks). Whether he’s repositioned himself or not, I have no idea. I can’t tell his head from his butt when he pokes it out and makes my stomach completely lopsided and he has hiccups now (which feel SO WEIRD!), but those move around, too. I’ve done enough research on Dr. Google to know I have no idea what I’m talking about or how to figure out how he’s laying.
If you look at it my bump the front, it is terribly deceiving (do ignore the zero makeup, unkempt hair and tree trunk legs):
Happy New Year, Friends! I’ve missed you!