It's official ladies--this baby is ready to pop! When you get the sliver of under "pooh-belly" as my hubby describes it, even with your made-to-flatter baby bump maternity top, you know this baby is trying to burst out of anything at this point. I'm in the last leg of my third trimester of pregnancy and only a few weeks away from giving birth, I can barely waddle these days on my semi-swollen little paws, and just plain tired as a mother... and yet I've somehow managed to stay vigilantly in hardcore nesting mode!
CAUTION! Explicit Pregnancy Symptoms.
Pregnancy-Lovers are advised...
to be as understanding as possible.
I'm hoping this is my last pregnancy as I feel like three kiddos to look after is manageable enough in spreading the love and attention evenly and just missing the brink of becoming insane in the membrane. And, only because I really, super duper with all of my being love my babies and accept the pains of childbirth because of the beauty of life that comes afterwards, I can openly admit to you--I'm one of those that does not enjoy pregnancy so much.
Pregnancy does a number on this relatively skinny as a twig body of mine. Besides the current heaviness weighing down on my pelvis that makes me wince as I toss and turn to get comfortable in bed, I get it all with the aches and pains of being with child. With each pregnancy, I've endured morning sickness that lasts so long well into my second trimester that I'm always surprised my body didn't just chuck the fetus itself out with breakfast, lunch, and dinner... who knew you could end up birthing a healthy little munchkin on toast and crackers half a pregnancy? Then, there's a brief period of relief where you can get your head out of the toilet to look up in the mirror for that "glow" and all I can find is my newly developing double chin and hormonally-charged blotchy skin. Oh, and I'm going to apologize in advance because I know this blurt out is TMI, but my flat arse that finally plumps up in the silver lining of stretch marks, stanks like...arse! Ladies, I pride myself on crevice cleanliness and the only time I have had janky stank wafting up with every multiple-times-a-day potty breaks, is when I finally get a plump tookus and it comes with the side effect of sweaty cheeks gasping for air! Alright no, I'm not a walking reeking stench as I'm usually able to squeeze in some me time that includes lathering up on my hygiene care, but there's definitely a set of smells there that wouldn't be otherwise during pregnancy for me. I think a heightened sense of smell contributes to this awareness too.. so hopefully I'm the only one smelling the funk off of me. Thank goodness I'm usually over my morning sickness by the time my derriere fills out cause I'd probably be sending myself hurling at my own flora of intriguing smells.
Alright... so... who's still up for nestling on this branch beside my stinky arse, now?
Come on, scoot a little closer... I'll do some prenatal yoga to give these flabby jacks some air time for both our sakes.
Then, as I've twice laid in that hospital bed completely exhausted from the contractions, eyes shut and teeth clenched telling myself, "never again... never again... never again...", I give the final push from my fiery-split perineum and there's the sweet cry signaling the arrival of my little one, and the end to my body weighed down with the nerve-pinching days of pregnancy! Yet here I am after my "never again" coping mantra to: "Okay, this is seriously the last time."
I feel pretty grateful though that the recovery is relatively painless as long as I come to accept my once again flabby tummy and the stretch mark streaks on both my thighs and deflated backside that look as if a tiger's claws had got to me. My body will usually bounce back to its twiggy size again, and it's right about that time when I can finally squeeze back into my favorite pair of not-mom-jeans that this fertile rabbit has to whip out that maternity wear instead. But, hopefully no more surprises after this Spring bunny. Yeah, three is good.
As I await the arrival of this Twiggy Baby, I'll try and keep you updated on days that I'm not a frazzled mess and feeling disheveled from life with a newborn and juggling a trio of kiddos. But, until then, this mother is going to kick up my swollen piggly-wigglies and load up on something yummy on my portable table top while I can.
With LOVE. Always,
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