The Exhausting Task Of Growing A Little Godzilla

This is hard work.

All along I’ve been facing forward with a smile and flexing my muscles thinking that I’ve conquered pregnancy. Miserable for short bouts of time, sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Throw it at me. However, the third trimester has really put me in my place. Apparently I’m not Super Woman and there are limits for my mind and body.

First of all, I feel clinically insane. I can’t remember what I did five minutes ago and I have breakdowns that alternate being between being overwhelmingly happy and gut-wrenchingly scared. My body is sore all over and don’t get me started on the lower back pain. However, its my poor belly that’s really getting pushed to its limits….literally.

It feels like I’ve been punched in the abdomen about a thousand times. Every little muscle is sore and stretched. I dread sneezing and I hesitate to drink ice water for fear the temperature change will send Baby Girl into Karate Mode. The high kicks hurt, the low kicks hurt more, but my least favorite (and Baby Girl’s most) are the kicks in my hips and sides. I don’t have a whole lot of room to give her, but she’s taking what she can get. I suppose she can have it. At this point, not much else matters but her health. Keep growing, Little Godzilla! Trample my insides and take all I’ve got!

I’m finally giving in and letting the changes happen. I no longer feel guilty when Jacob makes me dinner, fixes my plate, then does the dishes. I let others hold the door as I waddle near and I no longer decline help up when I’m too low to the ground. I give up, pregnancy. You win.

On that note, I found out yesterday that I will be taking the 3-hour glucose test. If you read my post from the beginning of June, you will know how desperate I was to not have this test done. I officially passed the initial 1-hour test. Levels need to be less than 139 and I was at 137, but my doctor kept reviewing my results and said she couldn’t shake the feeling that we had to be sure. She says she is confident that I don’t have gestational diabetes, but would feel better seeing definitive results instead of borderline ones. I could cry (and I have, of course). Luckily, my mom will be there to distract me and feed me peanut butter sandwiches afterwards. Here’s hoping that I can stay conscious this time!

Even with all of the complaining that I’ve been doing, I am still truckin’ forward and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The weeks fly by with the 2+ doctors appointments a week.We have Baby Girl’s weekly Biophysical Profiles now, alongside weekly OB checkups. We’re also squeezing in hospital tours, meetings with the neonataologists at both hospitals, cardiology appointments, and tours with developmental centers for after she’s born. Needless to say, we are learning a TON and are feeling very prepared to tackle any obstacles that may (or may not) be related to Down syndrome.

No matter how uncomfortable I might be right now, I always try to keep that in mind that before too long I will be up at 3:00 am, going on little-to-no sleep, coddling my baby girl and wishing that she was back in my belly, safe and protected.

 

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