Back Home Again in Indiana
This is when I start to really regret getting rid of all things baby/maternity when we moved 2 years ago. I mean, I’ve been regretting it since I peed on 3 sticks in July, but now that the third trimester’s here, I’m really regretting it. We’re down to the last 10ish weeks and have nothing for this child other than a dismantled crib, a Foo Fighters onesie, and a Portillo’s swaddle so we can turn her* into a little baby beef.
This is also the part where I start to low key panic about getting this child from the inside to the outside. Unlike last time, though, I’m not as worried about the actual process of getting her out (ain’t no magic like epidural magic) as I am about the aftermath. I am, however, very much looking forward to a glass of wine, Pepcid not being a lifeline, and maybe by June. . .pants with belt loops (she says wistfully).
It’s also the part where I realize I once again didn’t realize just how good I had it in the second trimester. The fact that I’m thinking this only 3 weeks into the third concerns me, but so does the fact that depending on the week, I’m measuring 2-4 weeks ahead.
Seriously, though, the second trimester remains the dream. Not only does it contain the fun that is very vivid and normal dreams (like you’re marrying Dave Grohl or your husband and son are redecorating by attaching a dresser to the wall), but it’s the part where food doesn’t make you nauseous or heartburny. You do start to completely lose your ability to finish a sentence without forgetting what you were talking about, but you also start to get the visible bump so people pity you rather than refer you to a dementia specialist.
Of course, the best part of the second trimester was the lengthy ultrasound and starting to feel her swim around in there; both much needed confirmation that there really is a tiny human in there. Although, based on one of those ultrasound pictures, it might be an elephant.
*Again, we don’t know if it’s a girl or boy and won’t find out until I pop this child out. But my gut and both the Mayan and Chinese gender predictors say girl so we know. We know.