So I’m still here, still happy pregnant. Even after two babies it is still mind blowing to me that our bodies can build a little person from scratch. But.
Since I entered my third trimester a few weeks ago, a lot less graceful and a lot more pregnant than I signed up for, I gained a lot of weight, ehhhhh respect for nature and our body in general.
Because a few weeks ago I was already sort of sad that this will all come to an end, my very last weeks of being pregnant. Ever.
Just him and me. Getting to know him, just a tiny bit, without having to share him with the world, or even the rest of my family for that matter. Still wondering what he will be like, what colour his hair will be.
But right now, needing to pee every 5 minutes, unable to stand up from a chair (bed/couch/car/whatever) without looking and sounding like a 90 years old, waking in the middle of the night because of, well, peeing but also because my unborn son broadcasting he has my sense of direction and is trying to leave my body through my belly button, watching beautiful and stylish pregnant women all over Internet while I grow bigger every second (especially in the cheeks and thigh department), being petrified of sneezing, because well, peeing again, I honestly can say I’m starting to look forward pushing this kid out.
Did I already tell you he is at least one week above schedule and I have a history of going for 42 weeks? But I’m ready. Almost.
Long story short: nature rules.