third trimester = body is not your own..

My hair grows faster than I can wax it, and yes it’s true Matilda..you cease to be able to see your “parts” without the help of a very good mirror. I am sleepy, moody, weepy and excited. All within the span of five minutes. I plan my unborn son’s wedding, yet avoid setting up his nursery because it acknowledges I really am going to be a mother ..again.

I come to the conclusion that I am indeed the only pregnant woman not exercising. My body formerly known as fit will remain a part of history, along with my prom pictures. I tell myself to listen to my body, and it screams rest and Eggo waffles.

I buy flats for the first time and remember that laughing too hard causes leakage..of the pee kind…I know..gross. Ultrasound cufflinks are hot, and I measure my nose and my feet for unwelcome growth.

I notice that my baby loves the sound of drums and the piano and prefers me sleeping on my left side. I thank him for sparing me the stretch marks and swollen legs. When not crying, I am pretty damn happy.

I count my weeks gone by and to go obsessively, read over checklists and hate celebrity moms just because.