When I was pregnant I decided to try and keep a weekly journal. It wasn’t the easiest thing and I wasn’t really religious about it. But in this post, I’m sharing my third trimester experience.
You can read about my first trimester here. You can also read about my second trimester here.
My Third Trimester Experience
By the time my third trimester rolled around I was honestly ready to be over with pregnancy. I am usually an active person, getting up and going around without much thought to how I moved or what I could or could not do was basically my MO. So as you can imagine, the immobility and sheer exhaustion of my third trimester experience didn’t sit well with me.
My Third Trimester Experience From My Journal
Week 30: Blood pressure now spikes like the heat and crying seems to be the new breathing. Also I have to pee every 6 minutes now and I wish everyone would just go away.
Week 31: Had my first real lick of what labour is gonna feel like and honestly I’m not ready.
I had the worst period-like-waist-cramp and I was so terrified. Told my mum and she was also scared cause she said it was sort of like the first sign of labour which only terrified me more.
There was a persistent biting pain on & around my waist but thankfully it passed the following day. I have finally started buying baby stuff. It’s still surreal cause I can’t imagine that I’m having a baby. That I will have a baby. That I will be someone’s mother. A part of me is terrified of all the many things that are yet to come including the million and one ways everything can go wrong. The other part of me has switched to autopilot cause that’s the only way I can possibly get through all this in one piece.
Week 33: My belly is now significantly bigger and I’m officially terrified. I dunno if my vagina can take this. I mean I know it’s possible cause people be having as many as 10 babies but I watched videos of child birth and saw some photos too and honestly the whole thing is so ghetto! Will my vagina be ripped to shreds? Will the pain be excruciating?
I know everyone says “when you hold the baby in your hands it’ll all be worth it” and absolutely no one is looking forward to meeting their own offspring as enthusiastically and impatiently as I am but honestly science needs to get us to the point where we can procreate with less physical pain and trauma.
I feel like in the next millennia they are gonna look back at us and shudder at the fact that we actually had to brew babies inside us and eventually crap them out in blood and sweat and tears.
I’m also trying too hard not to focus on the details. I’m worried I’m not eating enough vitamins and healthy things, I do not want my baby harmed as a result of it but I can’t for the life of me get myself to eat most of the times.
Where is the pregnancy cravings, the binge eating, the wolfing down everything in sight I was promised???
Week 34: Me: discovers “something juicy” I enjoy eating.
Also me: googles eating “something juicy” during third trimester
Google: you will die, your baby will grow a second head.
Me: thanks G now I’m gonna spend the remainder of my pregnancy worrying about the fact that I ate SJ for two straight days before I decided to google it.
Week 37: I feel like I’m slowly going into panic mode. I often forget how far along I am which is one way my mind is trying to handle the situation. Sleep and comfort is a myth at this point. I can’t get any sleep unless I’m bent and shucked with pillows. Now I understand why Igbo people liken pregnant women to old people. I have so much I wanna do but seldom find the energy to any of it. I’m ready. I’m really not but I feel like I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Besides it’s not like there’s an undo button I can hit right? (No really, is there? Help me pls)
My baby didn’t come for another 3 weeks and even though on some level I knew it was time, nothing could have prepared me for the things that followed.
The day I gave birth started as uneventfully as the weeks before it. I’d wake up from what little sleep I got in the early hours of the morning. Too exhausted to move, I’d lay in bed twittering away. Only pushing myself off the bed to go empty my now incredibly tiny bladder.
I would eventually roll out of bed at about 9am, prepare myself breakfast and go for my workout which at the time was climbing up and down the flights of stairs of the building I lived in 10 times.
After my workout, I would return to the kitchen, eat my breakfast, take a shower and plump right back into bed where i would most likely spend the remainder of my day alternating between social media apps on my phone and crime and investigation shows on TV. This was my new life and I had come to accept it. On days where I had to see the doctor, insert a quick trip to the hospital somewhere after my breakfast and before bingewatching TV. Every day was almost the same as the one before it.
I had a doctor’s appointment for that day, it wasn’t even a real appointment. Because I had reached week 40 of my pregnancy with no signs of labour in sight, the doctor wanted me to come in so we could talk about booking a date for an induction. I had contemplated not going. I had even plopped back into bed to continue my bingewatching when as if someone flicked a light switch in my head, I was suddenly convinced that I go see the doctor……
To be continued…..