I’m officially in my third trimester. Even if I didn’t have the weekly number switch to remind me, I would know things are getting close. How would I know?
Because the other night I woke up, went to roll over so I could get up to pee, and my pelvis POPPED. Like, I think I saw stars. It took me a full 2 minutes to roll the rest of the way over, hobble into the bathroom, slowly ease myself onto the toilet, do my business, and hobble back into bed.
And then it took another 20 minutes to arrange the pillows Just So so that I was comfortable enough to go back to sleep.
Dan got the baby’s room primed and ready for paint this weekend. It took a lot of restraint and discipline on my part not to get in there and help him. Not that I don’t think he’d do a good job, but because a) I enjoy painting and b) I like to be involved. I HATE not being able to do stuff around the house like I normally do. And even though I’m ‘cleared’ for normal activities per the follow-up sonogram for my placenta placement, I’m just physically unable to do all the things I was able to do when I was pregnant with Maggie (I totally painted her room that time.) But this time, things are so much different- my body is very different. Achy. Sore. Tired. If I overdo it by just a little bit, my back and hips tell me about it. LOUDLY. And PAINFULLY.
Dan has done 95% of the spring/summer gardening, flower planting, even some in-between cleaning-lady-week cleaning for me. And while I appreciate the fact that he’s willing to do these things (and even sometimes YELLS at me for trying them myself), it does drive me a bit crazy not to be able to just do it myself.
I’m kinda independent. I’m not sure where Maggie gets it.
So instead of helping with the painting, I’ve been satisfying my nesting instinct by doing things like BAKING (which I don’t normally do), or cleaning out the junk drawers in the kitchen, or organizing and washing the baby clothes. Or napping (oh wait, that has nothing to do with nesting. It just feels AWESOME.)
We have 12 weeks left. I’m trying not to focus on that number too much, as it may give me a slight panic attack. Instead, I’m focusing on taking care of myself, enjoying these last months with just Maggie as our only child, and letting Dan do the heavy lifting.
Because you know, one day in September, I’LL be the one doing all the hard work. So it’s only fair, really.