First things first, the third trimester is no joke. It seems over the past two weeks I have once again “popped” as I did around the 20 week mark. While I feel different every single week and can notice settle things as they change, the past two weeks have just kicked my ass.
Up until this point, I have kept up with all my normal workouts and so forth but in the past two weeks I have definitely felt them more and found them a bit more difficult to keep up with or even finish. I am feeling every pound of weight that I have put on and when I do squats my legs are wondering what the fuck?! Simple things like getting up off the floor, cleaning, folding laundry, etc. are becoming more of a pain and the ass and taking me longer to accomplish. I loathe long trips in the truck because sitting for so long without movement makes me cramp. And the need to take a 4pm nap like I wanted to in the first trimester is totally back with a vengeance.
I suddenly found that what was working for me in the maternity clothes department just isn’t cutting it anymore. With 11 weeks and some days left, I’m trying to not spend a boat load of money on maternity clothes when I would just assume stay in yoga pants or be naked. I think that is how your body prepares you for having no shame while giving birth in front of strangers, it continually wants you to be naked while pregnant because clothing is the devil.
I’m full of whining about the little things is what I’m saying. More so, I’m starting to feel the fact that I’m pregnant and as much as I have been trying to ignore what was coming, the time is here. The final stretch. The need for more help, the need to slow down a bit, and the need to think twice about what I’m doing. This kid is growing and my body is doing what it needs to for her without giving a damn thought to the fact that the shower doesn’t scrub itself.
After pushing my body a bit too hard yesterday I had a come to Jesus meeting with myself. There was yelling and cursing but I decided I needed to suck it the hell up and make it through the last few weeks. You have to go through the bad to get to the good. Or take it one day at a time or whatever other stupid cliche I can find to make it all work. Plus, she can’t come yet, we just started her nursery this weekend. So. Far. Behind. Cheers to everyone else hitting the third trimester mark with me.