We’ve made it to Week 28, a.k.a – the 3rd trimester. I was so encouraged I’d made it this far and was so proud of myself for having done so without just totally collapsing from exhaustion, but then I read about this woman who ran an 800 meter race at 34 weeks pregnant, so I did what came naturally and threw myself a pity party. What a rock star of a woman though. She’s even wearing a bright yellow daisy in her hair and smiling during her run. She’s keeping it fit, fun and fashionable all at the same time. That’ll be me during my next pregnancy, guys.
Pity parties and rock star Olympians aside, Elliott seems to be doing really well. He’s always bouncing around, and now that he’s getting stronger, his bounces are more forceful and often surprise me. I’m doing well, too. Just tired. I never really got that superwoman burst of energy I’d heard about from so many women as well as from my books and apps.
The superwoman energy boost is one of the few things I have not experienced that my pregnancy app suggested I would. Ooh, this app. I consider it to be both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because each week I learn something new and wonderful about Elliott – his sleep cycle, his new skills, what vegetable or fruit he’s turned into as of late. It’s a curse because each week I learn something new and not so wonderful about myself, always in the form of a dooming list. I picture Heidi Murkoff (the woman behind the app) blinking her giant deer eyes at me, and with her sweet, high voice saying, “Congratulations, Holly! You’ve made it to Week X! Here are the truly amazing changes you can expect to happen to you this week while your tiny precious one transforms from his sweet size of a cucumber into the head of a blossoming cauliflower. This week, you’ll experience:
If you haven’t already passed out from reading this list, then enjoy your week of fabulous growth! Love, Heidi.”
Heidi’s lists really only crack me up now. I’ve developed more of a “Bring it on!” attitude that wasn’t there before which helps me handle these storms of symptoms. I’m still not going to be running any races, but I’ll take a bloody nose and dizzy spell any day for Elliott’s safe arrival, which is less than 11 weeks away, everyone. Less than 11 weeks.
With his arrival so close and my stomach expanding so enormously, I find myself lost in my own web of questions. Questions like, How is it possible to be thirstier while I’m at this very moment downing a glass of water? Or this gem from last week’s vacation in Colorado, Should I drink water to avoid altitude sickness and dehydration, or should I drink my normal amount and risk Elliott kicking my bladder resulting in a much-needed bathroom stop along the highway of a mountain where there’s actually nowhere to stop?
I took the risk and drank water.
And here are some other questions that have popped into my head over the last couple of weeks:
– Does Will still find me attractive despite my hands and feet looking like the work of a balloon artist?
– Are the way babies move to and fro in stomachs the same way a lava lamp works?
– Should I perhaps wear something different from the outfit I’ve worn the last 3 days?
– Does Will cringe whenever I announce I’m going to put on my “fat pants”?
– Is it possible to talk Elliott into moving out from underneath my lap seatbelt?
– Should I sleep uncomfortably with a pillow under my stomach, or should I sleep uncomfortably without a pillow under my stomach?
– If I sleep with a pillow under my stomach, between my legs, and behind my back, will I then sleep comfortably? Or will I still flop around like a fish on land?
– Does Elliott already find me strange?
– Do people notice my legs twitching whenever I have a sudden case of Restless Leg Syndrome?
– Should I roll off the bed this morning, or actually try to use my arms?
– Will Elliott be born craving Chick-fil-a?
– Is that a foot in my ribcage?
– Does my back age 10 more years each week?
– Will Elliott inherit my motion sickness?
– Are dogs drawn to pregnant women?
– At what point is it appropriate to ask Will to take off my shoes for me?
I haven’t come up with answers to any of these, so if you could provide them for me, I’d be so grateful to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have at least 5 symptoms from Heidi’s special list that require my attention, which is a fancy way of saying – I’m going to go lie down now.