Since crashing into my third trimester, I’ve actually started to feel… well, pregnant. It sounds stupid, I know- like I haven’t known I am the whole time. I just feel like there’s been a marked change in how I look and feel. The last couple of weeks have seen some particularly significant growth. When I look down, my feet have all but disappeared. In the last two weeks alone my bump seems to have grown significantly. Even Ally commented that it looked like it had grown in the last week- and he’s the last person who’d think to make a comment on my size (for his own wellbeing and, well, because he’s not a tool).
One thing I’ve noticed since changing job is an increase in baby movement. When I was on my feet all the time, I didn’t feel much. When you’re sedentary, you feel movement more. It used to be that I wouldn’t feel anything until I was going to bed, but I’ve started to feel it during the day, too. Even Ally managed to feel a kick, which was nice since I felt that li’l bean only kicked into action when he was out of the room.
When I went for my 28 week midwife appointment, I voiced my concerns about how I worried that my bump was on the small side. Having no frame of reference, I didn’t know if it was or not. However, people were quick to inform me of this but I couldn’t work out what that meant. Is it a good thing? Is it an insult? What are you implying? She informed me that it was ‘neat’, but since I’m at the stage where they start to measure growth, got the ol’ tape measure out. She calmly informed me that he was stretching out at a whopping 29cm.
“He’s nice and long, just like you”
Well. Smashing. If I could just get some kind of assurance that this rate of growth wasn’t going to continue exponentially, that’d be great. I’d heard that the third trimester is when they do a lot of their growing though. Terrifying as it it, it doesn’t surprise me. This trimester is taking no prisoners. With the onset of trimester three, I’ve felt a sudden and dramatic gear change. From worrying about a lack of movement, this wee one has done a full 180. My bed time is his spring break- that or ten minutes before my morning alarm. I guess this is about the most normal my sleeping pattern is gonna be for a long time though. From what I’ve been told, my 7am awakening is pretty much a long lie.
With him growing at a rate of noughts I’ve put a self-imposed ban on baby stuff. There’s SO MUCH. I don’t even mean stuff that he needs, like nappies or a place to sleep or whatnot. I mean all the tiny, cutesy little things that he’ll grow out of every time I feed him. When you’re pregnant, you get offers of everything from clothes to bottles to baskets. However, I wanted to buy something nice. Like, something special that wasn’t just for wearing round the house and vomiting on. Swayed by a pretty sweet offer from Bounty, I got this little set from Vertbaudet for him to wear coming home from the hospital. Not only is it a lovely little gender-neutral shade of lemon, it comes in a handy wee bag that I can launch into my own bag. Super cute AND savvy.
I wasn’t prepared for just how small it was going to be though. When I laid it all out, I couldn’t actually comprehend how anyone could be small enough to fit into it. What was scarier, though, was my mum’s comment that it’d still be too big for him. At 60cm, the seemingly toaty sleepsuit is double his current length- which I thought was big. The sheer small-ness of this li’l bean is legitimately terrifying. Considering how much I’ve been able to put away during my second trimester, I’m surprised that he’s not double the size that he actually is.
There was a point about halfway through pregnancy where I felt like I literally could not eat enough. Missing breakfast made me feel physically sick and as soon as I ate one thing, I was already eye-banging the next. It took a lot of effort, but it got me into the habit of preparing food in advance rather than buying whenever I felt snacky. On the (very) rare occasion that we go out or order in though, you better believe I get my money’s worth.
Last week, my mum and dad ventured south for a visit and we went to the Brooklyn Café on Minard Road. When I was wee, my auntie lived on this street and as a treat, we’d go to the Brooklyn Café. I was happy to note that the layout was just as I remembered. The décor is a little fresher though (it was over 20 years ago) and the menu’s probably seen many a revamp, but it all came flooding back. I don’t remember ever eating a burger this good though, and if I did it was wasted on my tiny child mind. I don’t say this lightly, but this was honestly one of the best veggie burgers I’ve had. It was worth finishing it even though it was a choice between choking down the last crumbs or leaving room for dessert.
Now? Well, yesterday, Ally and I made an absolute banger of a fry up (in name only, the only thing that was fried was the potato scone). For the first time, I’d created the perfect scrambled tofu. As far as late Sunday breakfasts go, it was definitely a top five. It was also the biggest hurdle I’ve ever encountered. I pushed around my last, sad sausage, afraid of what I’d become. It’s a common occurrence in later pregnancy: as the baby pushes against your stomach, it means you can fit less in. I just didn’t expect its onset to be so sudden. So, aye, when it comes to the third trimester- all that eating for two patter is utter lies.
TL;DR Highlights and Lowlights
Revisiting old (old, old) haunts
Getting into some kind of routine
Leisurely Sunday lunches and long walks in the park
Seeing li’l bean’s first outfit and realising that before long, there’s going to be a little person in it
Feeling like you’re in a state of perpetual growth and will never be normal sized again