I’ve
always been a little scared of the third trimester. That’s when you see the
pregnant women with sweat dripping down their forehead as they try to do the
simplest tasks like put on their shoes. I also feel like the third trimester is
when women start to tell you how it really is. If there ever was a pregnancy
“glow” it’s most definitely gone by the time they hit the seven-month mark. Earlier
this week I tried to complete a task that should have taken 3 minutes and ended
up taking over 20. There wasn’t even the slightest glimmer of a glow on me that day.
The family I nanny for just recently lowered sweet baby girl’s crib, which
however necessary, also means I have the daunting task of trying to bend over
far enough to be able to reach her. Yesterday I had to attempt to change her
crib sheet. No matter what I did I just couldn’t reach far enough! I became the
stereotype. Beads of sweat forming on my face, grunting as I tried to reach
just far enough to grab the mattress. How my life has changed.
I’ll
be saying goodbye to my nanny family at the end of July so I can be a stay at
home mom. I’ve already cried multiple times when I think about saying goodbye
to sweet baby girl. When I have a four-day weekend I honestly miss her. I’ll be
out running errands and wish I could hear her cute, little babbles from her car
seat. It’s really helped me to realize that I’m ready to be a mom, because the
idea of having a little one around me all time doesn’t feel like an
inconvenience. It feels natural.
Not
only have I enjoyed creating a relationship with baby girl, but I’ve gained
some pretty invaluable insight into the logistics of motherhood. For example,
when she sneezes a mouthful of baby food carrots all over my face, it no longer fazes me. Another time I realized I had been walking around for over 30 minutes
with spit up caked in my hair. These otherwise disgusting events are just
another day at the office for me.
When
gross things happen, it’s pretty amazing how much our maternal instincts take
over and all we care about is making sure the baby is ok. One time she had an
upset tummy and puked with what seemed like the force of a small volcano all
over my only pair of jeans that fit. I didn’t care about how disgusting it was
to be sitting in a stinky mess. All I remember is my heart aching as I looked
at her tear streaked cheeks and saw her sad eyes looking back at me hoping I
would have a solution for her discomfort.
After
10 years of working with children and ultimately having to say goodbye to them
at some point, I finally will have a relationship that is permanent. I’ll be
cleaning up baby puke out of my hair that actually belongs to my baby. For some
crazy reason I have chosen the boogers, diapers, and sneezes. Bring it on baby. Bring. It. On.
Crazy
third-trimester emotional breakdown of the week:
The
other day I reached the epitome of emotional craziness. I literally had a
mental breakdown when my eggs stuck to the pan and there was no longer even a
remote possibility that they would be “over easy”. I completely lost it. I was
pacing, screaming at the pan, and clenching my fists to my forehead. At first
Seth thought I was just joking and being dramatic. Then I saw worry start to
creep across his face as he realized I genuinely was that angry at my eggs. He
hovered for a minute or two in that delicate balance of is it ok to laugh right
now because she is being so ridiculous or do I need to try and figure out how
to help her? He decided to go for the safer option and offered to make me a new
batch of eggs.
Baby
is getting big enough now (about 2 pounds) that when he/she kicks and moves I
can actually feel limbs moving and twisting! It’s not just random bubbles
anymore. We’ve also been able to push on my belly and feel the baby creating
resistance!
Come one ladies, it's time to share your own pregnancy related emotional meltdowns! Did ruined eggs set you off too?
Blessings,
Shantastic :)
