31 weeks pregnant
Baby size: Small clawed otter
Well that baby size just sounds terrible and exactly the sort of thing I do not want to think about coming out of me in 9 or so weeks.
Me and the third trimester are not getting along at all. I miss being in the second trimester so much! All I have now is pain and sweatiness (York is averaging about 60 to 70% humidity right now). And with 2 more months to go I literally cannot stand to think about how much bigger and painful and more sweaty I am going to get. I regret everything, but especially the part where I got pregnant at the start of November right on time to be a fat mess during the hottest part of a year when I can’t even get any relief by going on holiday and throwing myself into the sea.
Of all the crap going on right now, these are the worst things:
- rib flare and costochondritis due to the baby wedging themselves under the right side of my rib cage for the past 2 months
- constipation, because I’m back on iron tablets to treat the iron deficiency which is causing …
- constant fatigue, due to aforementioned iron deficiency and also generally just being a land whale
- blurry vision
- round ligament pain and lightening crotch
- numb skin high up on my bump, which is apparently caused by nerve damage due to internal bruising
- shortness of breath, causing coughing, causing people to give me all kinds of paranoid side eye when out in public
- hip and thigh pain, due to sleeping on my side and also the fact that I now cannot move without waddling
- general back pain, due to everything
- cervical hiccups … ok, this is a weird one and not actually a pregnancy ‘symptom’, but rather what it feels like when the baby (who is generally head down at this point) gets the hiccups while they have the top of their head pressed against my cervix … it’s very odd and not comfortable, and has actually kept me awake at night
- tit pain – are they growing again? (please for the love of Tarvu, let them not be growing again)
- a devil child for a baby, who enjoys punching and kicking all available internal organs and who is only growing stronger and more opinionated, probably resulting in them punching their way out of my stomach at some point
- actually not being able to fit into stuff anymore, rather than being able to do what I was doing before which was just wearing oversized clothes
- mood swings. Like … mood swings. I have not felt this moody since I was a teenager. Mostly it’s rage and / or crying because of all the other stuff on this list. But today I ended up in a 3 hour rant / rage (all on my own, to noone in particular) because some stupid pregnancy instagram account I followed (not anymore) shared some wanky post about pregnant women being a portal to the divine and it made me lose my shit. I swear, if anyone comes at me directly with any of that stupid divine goddess earth mother spiritual womanhood bollocks I will smack a c*nt. No, in fact, do. Open invitation. It’ll improve my mood to take a swing at anyone pathetic enough to think that anyone this pregnant wants to hear about how not pooping for 2 weeks is some kind of cosmic gift, rather than acknowledging the shittiness of it all and being sympathetic, like a normal person. Don’t think I can’t be grateful and resentful at the same time. Look at me. I’m a convex picture of fucking versatility.
As you can probably tell, I’m not very happy right now. I still love being pregnant (being able to feel my baby kick is the most incredible feeling in the world), but I have found a new depth of meaning in the phrase, “I love you … now get out”.