The glory (and fun) of the third trimester

Third trimester fun has officially commenced, namely (in no particular order):


Just ask Rick.

In fact, there’s this joke I recently read that rings a little too closely to the truth:

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she’s borderline irrational.
A: So what’s your question?

Shrunken bladder

Enough said. Surely one of life’s worst enemies especially when you’re stuck in traffic with two tired and unhappy kids in the back.

Pelvic pain

Think sharp stabs of pain that renders you immobile. And you guys, I’m already receiving really good physio treatment. Of course, it would help if I actually did the exercises that my physiotherapist tells me to do, but it’s just so hard to find those extra five minutes in the day – you know what I mean, right?

Inability to sleep

…despite endless pillow configurations. Trust me, I’ve tried them all. Rick now only has access to about 25% of the surface area on our bed because I need the rest of the space to build entire cities and civilisations out of pillows and blankets in order to have any hope of getting actual sleep at night.

I know I will have to move to the couch soon. But I’m not ready to give in. Yet.

Walking and bumping into things

Otherwise known as clumsiness, which is further exacerbated by the fact that I can’t see past my belly. It doesn’t help that I’m usually unco-ordinated anyway, even when I’m not pregnant. Anyway, if you should see me in the next couple of months, be sure to check out the impressive showcase of bruises on my right leg. (The left side of my brain must be more spatially aware.)


I used to think this was a pregnancy myth, but these last three to four years have proven that I take to waddling like a duck to water (pun totally intended).

Rick once told me that I never actually stopped waddling after the first pregnancy. Such are the sweet nothings that he whispers in my ear.

Nightmares about giving birth again

Most recently, I dreamt that I gave birth in a room full of people. They didn’t seem at all bothered. Perhaps they were all obstetricians, I don’t know. I was just glad (in the dream) that the birth had been painless. I woke up thinking that maybe birth the fourth time round won’t be so bad after all…

Good ole Braxton Hicks contractions

What can I say – this must be God reminding me that birth is painful and will be painful so as I don’t go into a rude shock when the baby begins to crown.

Generally feeling big and round and big again

In fact, every time I look in the mirror, I freak out because I know I’ve still got an entire trimester to go and yet I’m already carting around what looks to be a basketball (I mean, just look at the photo above!). What will I be like towards the end of term?

(At this point, Rick always helpfully points out that I usually reach double the size I am now. He even throws in a finger gesture for extra measure. He specifically likes to say, “You get to about here.” whilst pointing at the invisible air about 15 centimetres off the ‘bulgiest’ part of my belly. Ahem, thanks darling.)

p.s. Incidentally, please people, don’t tell my mum I took a photo of my belly. She will freak out. I’m not savvy as to what the exact Chinese superstition belief is, but she’ll probably worry that James is going to be born with a camera in his hand or something un-crazy like that.


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