So here we are in the third trimester

Well, someone was in a good mood when they wrote that last post, eh? Well ,things are as always evolving, and I am now about six and a half months pregnant, with another ten weeks to go until wee sproglet (code name: Elspeth) is due. I've been taken off work by the gynecologist as what i thought were harmless Braxton-Hicks contractions mixed with indigestion were actually the real deal, with mademoiselle ready to pop out and brave the world: have been prescribed between 2 and 4 weeks in bed as a result. 

So, what's new so far this trimester?

A) Hugeness
On the plus side, people are nice: they notice, they stand up, they smile in the street, they pat you on the head and make friendly noises. On the down side, they have no issue with commenting on size and girth:  "Jesus, you're overdue aren't you??", "Bloody hell, are you expecting triplets??", or the rather simpler "Wow, you're fat". Well, guess what, actually I'm not. I started this pregnancy at 62 kgs (can't believe I've just made that figure official & public) and am now just under 70. Some people put on that kind of weight over the Xmas holidays for fuck's sake. The simple fact is that one rarely sees heavily heavily pregnant women, maybe because going out is a waddling, breathless pain in the arse. Anyway, for the record, this is what nearly 7 months pregnant looks like.

B) Constant peeing II
I mentioned this way back, but it really doesn't get better; my heart goes out to you guys with prostate issues. We're talking every 45 minutes here, maybe every couple of hours at night. My friend Amélie reckons this is nature's way of preparing me to the sleepless and interrupted nights Elspeth will be imposing in a few weeks, but that's pretty small comfort. What's particularly frustrating is that desperate need which turns out to be a pathetic little dribble. Loo roll consumption has gone through the roof, and an estimated 8 hours a day are spent on the throne. On the plus side, I'm getting a lot of reading done.

C) Appetite and nutrition    
So first three months were dedicated to puking, the following three to eating everything that couldn't run away fast enough, and these are all about moderation. Yup, Elspeth now takes up so much room (THIS IS NORMAL, I repeat) that the uterus is now where the stomach and liver should be. These two now have to squeeze into a small cavity between my boobs. The result is that a boiled egg and a small bowl of soup is enough to make one puke violently as poor old tummy just doesn't have the capacity to hold so much. Shame cos one is still pretty hungry and needs something like 2500 calories a day to keep Spawn happy and healthy and fatten her up. More to the point if I don't ingurgitate enough nutrients, babe will take them from me, i.e bones, teeth, internal organs and soon. I can imagine the result: "wow, you're huge and you've lost all your teeth and you're going bald!" Still waiting for this amazing pregnancy bloom people rave on about... Always eager to share lovely anecdotes with you, here's the latest to illustrate my point.

Was craving Indian on Sunday, so Gorgeous Chook and I headed off to our local (which luckily for us is amazing by Parisian standards, Comptoir des Indes). I ate frugally, half a portion of rice and some lovely spinach and paneer. Also drank a huge pot of tea which turned out to be a mistake. So lay down in bed, turned off light and gravity being gravity, Elspeth pushed against my stomach making everything come shooting out, green-geyser-style. The best way to describe would be this wonderful line by Stephen King in Different Seasons: "puke rumbled up his throat like a six-ton Peterbilt shooting through a tunnel." GC thought my waters had broken as "water" splashed merrily over, well,everything (I seriously hope my waters breaking will be less dramatic). Oops. Anyway, that lesson has been learnt, I now eat tiny portions frequently and pop anti-puke pills regularly. 

D) Being beaten up 
by something the size of a loaf of bread whatsmore! Typical, you spend months waiting for that first magic kick, that little flutter which is the first sign of life, and then very quickly you pray that she will grow so much she'll be unable to move, uncomfortably squashed. I didn't realise foetuses (foeti?) could be so bloody violent. It's in the evening that it's the most obvious: crash bang wallop especially after the evening "meal". A good thump every 3/4 minutes, with a special mention to her getting her feet tangled in my rib cage and trying to yank them out. It's pretty bad at night  too; in fact there's an inverse correlation between our levels of activity: the more relaxed I am, the more kung-fu she is. GC is of course ridiculoulsy proud.  

E) Libido
God, yes, it's true. Without going into detail, well, I'd shag the furniture. Twenty times a day. One wakes up in the night randy as hell. One wakes up with morning glory or female equivalent. Everyone/thing is incredibly sexy and attractive. Unfortunately because I'm threatened with premature labour I can't actually act on any of this, sex potentially leading to contractions And apparently it gets better (or worse, depends really doesn't it).

F) And luckily...
... So far I have avoided obesity (yes, I fucking well have you ignorant bastards), stretchmarks, hemorrhoids, blotchy skin, fur sprouting out of my nose/chin/ears and blowing a fortune on maternity clothes (my friends are wonderful). Not blowing a fortune on cute baby stuff however is going to be challenging, but hey, how can one resist???

 

So here we are in the second trimester

Well, it's true what they say. The second trimester is much less painful than the first. Exeunt morning sickness, crippling exhaustion and drooling. Welcome a nice rounded belly (people start to notice and make a fuss), no-guilt mega bingeing (perhaps linked to the former) and lots of energy. Of course there are days that are better than others, sometimes the sciatica plays up a bit, or nights cramps appear, and the constant need to pee hasn't really faded, but this is more than made up for by the fact that baby is now kicking a lot, floating around and reacting to food or state of relaxation. It's a simple negative correlation: the more relaxed I am, the more baby is awake and manifesting itself.

More recently (I'm getting to the end of the second term),  a few new uncomfortable symptoms have emerged, mostly linked with a huge gut (huuuge, I mean it). Bending over is impossible, sitting up is challenging, getting up is a painful, picking anything up is uncomfortable, getting wellies off a physical nightmare that ended with me marooned on the floor, on my back, with a trapped nerve. Walking slowly, going very easy up and down stairs... hello I feel 85 years old.

I will pass on the fact that no matter how big the clothes that some friends have given me are, everything is too small. Or are leggings. As it gets colder, one just has to wrap up in more and more layers. Thankfully i finish work in a week and can just start rolling around in jogging bottoms and huge t-shirts, like the awful people you read about in "take a break".

Maybe the newest symptom, which has only developed recently is being shit-terrified. Now that the baby is live and kicking and present and, let's face it, pretty much alive even if it pops out tomorrow, I'm beginning to realise that this is all very nice but fuck, I'm going to be a mother! there is so much to think about, from where we're going to stock all the baby's stuff (we live in a two room 30 sq. metre flat! and babies seem to need more clothes than I do), how we're going to handle those first sleepless, stressful, chaotic weeks, when we're going to buy all the stuff and what the hell i'm going to drink over the Xmas period.

We're also a few weks before the ante-natal classes, and as a result I have had the reality check before the father has which can be kind of frustrating. For example he thought we could get the furniture and so on about a month before delivery (Ikea 8,5 months pregnant anyone?). I don't think he realises how much there is to do and the kind of organisation that's going to be required! Apparently this is the norm for guys who basically get a reality check when the sprog pops out. Not much good for clearing out cupboards and so on beforehand though!

anyway, this latest symptom, which includes feeling a little bitter, cynical, weepy and pissed off is clearly not the nicest of the second term. Still ten more days to go and we'll be in the third... and last before arrival.