I can often be found puffy-faced and teary-eyed. This week had me crying in the bathroom of a Friday's restaurant. Crying in the dressing room of Motherhood. Crying while listening to Kings of Leon at Coobah's for dinner. The beloved third trimester encompasses what I like to call "lots of emotion with even less explanation."
Hitting thirty weeks was a big milestone for me. Something about seeing the big three-zero made me feel that much closer to the home stretch, the end in sight. I really love being pregnant. I love stretching in the morning and feeling her stretch right along with me. I love feeling her kick and punch on the car rides home from work and knowing she's as excited as I am to go home to Papa. I'll be honest though, I miss my old body. I'm hoping it bounces back quickly, but I'm not getting my hopes up.
Sleeping right now (and any time so far this last trimester) has been extremely uncomfortable. There really is no position that helps my back or hips get situated in bed. I'm hot. Moody. Working the shifts I do in a retail environment has proved to be increasingly more difficult the bigger I become. And when we get floods of people in the store at once? Guess what- my face gets flushed, I get cold sweats and nearly pass out from dizziness. Yep. That's my new one.
I gotta take it easy and rest up as much as I possibly can for as long as I possibly can before baby makes her big entrance. I have 3 showers to get through and a whole lot of setting up/decorating/finalizing before that can happen. So stay in there, chipmunk. Mama loves you, she's getting impatient to meet you, but you need to cook just a little bit longer.
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