As I approach the end of my third pregnancy in just a little over three years, I can confidently say that I am officially done with being pregnant. In fact, I was over it long before that telltale plus sign appeared on the test. It feels like I’ve been carrying a baby forever.
While some women find joy in pregnancy, I am not one of them. The next person who tells me to savor these moments might just get the side-eye of a lifetime. Seriously, how does one enjoy a time when your body is no longer your own, and you have to follow an endless list of dos and don’ts?
Alcohol? Off the table. Sushi? Not a chance. Caffeine? Only in tiny sips. Fish? Only certain types and in limited quantities. And don’t even get me started on the medications I can’t take. The rules are relentless, and to make matters worse, I’m chasing after two toddlers, leaving me no room to relish the experience.
First Pregnancy
Everything felt new and exciting. Friends and family showered me with attention, compliments, and endless encouragement. I was on a strict regimen of rest and relaxation, often checking my pregnancy app to track my baby’s progress, comparing my growing belly to the size of an adorable piece of fruit.
Second Pregnancy
While people still cared, the fervor had diminished. I was busy managing my firstborn while trying to find time for myself. My baby bump began showing sooner, and the initial excitement quickly shifted to exhaustion. With each passing pregnancy, it felt like my growing belly became a permanent fixture in my life, with less and less attention paid to it.
Third Pregnancy
Where is everybody? Family and friends seem to have vanished, and I could genuinely use their support now more than ever. With two little ones to care for, personal downtime is a distant memory. When someone asks how far along I am, I can hardly remember. I’ve started showing even before conception, thanks to the anticipation of another baby. And let’s not even discuss the daily struggles of bladder control; a sneeze has become a risky venture.
Embracing the Chaos
As I near the end of my third trimester, I’ve lost all concern for appearances. If it fits, I wear it. That means an eclectic mix of patterns and flip-flops because they are easy to slip on. I might even recycle the same outfit for days on end. Honestly, comfort trumps style at this point. My hair? It’s been in a messy bun for so long, it could qualify as its own entity.
Too Big for Everything
I feel too big for clothes, too big to be comfortable, and definitely too big to bend down. If I drop something, I contemplate the effort required to pick it up. It’s become a strategic decision; only if enough items accumulate will I consider bending over. If I do find myself on the floor, I’ve ingeniously turned it into playtime with my kids—reading, coloring, and even pretending to chase them, all while seated.
The Light at the End of the Tunnel
Despite my complaints, I recognize the incredible blessing of welcoming my third child. I am truly grateful for this journey and the family we’re creating. That said, I can’t wait for this baby to make their entrance. I dream of regaining my body and reconnecting with my long-lost friend: wine.
For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on MedlinePlus, and if you’re interested in navigating your fertility journey, visit Make a Mom for helpful tips. Need additional support? You can find more information on intracervical insemination to keep you engaged.
In summary, the journey through my third pregnancy has been filled with challenges, exhaustion, and moments of joy. Each stage has its unique hurdles, but the light at the end of the tunnel is one I eagerly anticipate.