Third baby, Third trimester | pregnant in a pandemic
I have no idea how many weeks I am, y’all.
What a statement.
But it’s true. I was nursing Cece when I got pregnant so I don’t have a “last menstrual cycle” date to go on, and I was already showing and sick by the time we went to the doctor for my first appointment.
And in my experience, sonograms are pretty subjective, so who really knows.
Today, my belly measured about 26 weeks, baby was measuring 25 weeks 4 weeks ago. I’ve gained quite a bit of weight considering, and my belly is about as big as Cece’s was at 30ish weeks-ish.
So like I said, who freakin’ knows.
My official due date is Jan. 2 but I think we can all agree that that’s not happening. Baby will 100% be here before Christmas but absolutely has to wait until after Thanksgiving.
Please and thank you.
Nonetheless, I’m calling it. I’m in my third trimester with baby number 3 and we officially have bets going out on gender and date. It’s a $100 buy in, and that’s only because if I have to be in this misery of pregnancy, I might as well make someone so money on the deal.
I’m not alone in the #pregnantinapandemic boat, that’s for sure. I’m certain everyone and their sister is expecting right now, and it goes without saying that we didn’t follow the rules to stay 6 feet apart.
And sorry, I have to make cheesy jokes to make myself feel better. Because let’s be honest.
I have pretty much loathed every moment of this pregnancy.
Not the baby part – I’m ecstatic about the baby, surprisingly. Scared as hell. But excited.
But the pregnancy part, ya, not for me. I just wasn’t mentally prepared, and honestly, I never took the discipline or the time to change my attitude about it. I admit it, I could have, and should, change my attitude, but I’m just not in that space right now.
I’m emotional and tired and feel like a fat version of myself that happens to be growing a human, and for that I’m neither sorry or happy. Just here.
I miss wine. I miss tying my own shoes. I miss fitting into my clothes. I miss my body from before Cece, because that’s how long it has been since I have felt like myself.
I got pregnant during my fourth trimester and it’s taken a serious toll on me, mentally and physically.
I’m prepared to battle this after baby is born, to work on myself again. I LOVE the postpartum period, the exhaustion and anxiety and all. I know that it’s temporary, I know when and how I should get help if it feels to be too much. I love the chaos and the quietness. I also love knowing how fleeting it is, and that I can also touch my toes.
But pregnancy, not so much. My double chin and lack of wine consumption and constant hunger and a baby literally tickling my girl parts only leaves me anxious for the part I know I enjoy.
I don’t need to tell you that you should feel empowered and magical while pregnant. I applaud mamas that do feel this way. Jealous, even. I don’t, even though I’m physically strongest while pregnant, that my body is performing a miracle, that my skin glows and hair grows and I can get away with joggers every day.
All this aside, a third baby brings a whole new outlook, too. I have a pretty good grasp on what’s important after baby gets here, and how to prioritize getting prepared.
But, then we go back to #pregnantinapandemic.
I don’t know how to prepare to give birth in a hospital during a pandemic. I don’t know what questions to ask, what might happen, who will be there with me.
I’m totally ok with a flex birth plan. But an unknown one? No way.
I’ve been told quite a few times, when asking my somewhat frantic questions, to “just wait and see how it plays out.” And I’m not okay with that. And I know you aren’t either.
I literally don’t have that luxury. I’ve had two early babies, and I have no idea how far along I am. Baby could come at any point, probably after Halloween, and I’d still be being told, “Let this pandemic play out”.
No matter your feelings on Covid, I think we can all agree that things are different. Frankly, I don’t want different. I have had perfect, wonderful experiences with birth with Joey and Cece, and I pray and hope every day that this next and last is the same.
This is the reason I have been so hesitant to consider other options. Home birth, midwifery, a different hospital, all the things.
But here’s the deal. Until you ask, you don’t know. And when I asked my doctor today, his answers pleasantly surprised me.
He tossed my tDap prescription in the trash after I told him I didn’t want it. He told me that he didn’t care whether I wore a mask or not, and that he will absolutely perform whatever I need, whenever I need it, Covid test, Covid positive, or not. He told me that Adam absolutely needed to be there, and he expected nothing less. He assured me that he would advocate for me. That he’s obligated to offer these things but will never push anything. He told me that I was valid in my concern for another preterm baby. That he will do whatever I want when the time comes to decide whether to deliver or wait. I can have my steroid shots at 32 weeks if I want them. And my favorite, “Nicole, I will be your doctor, and I will fight for what YOU want, no matter what.”
Y’all, I know there’s a lot going on out there right now. That conventional hospital birth seems scary and like you don’t have control over what might happen. The agenda that the hospital has an agenda is being pushed like crazy. I fall for this trap often. I feel scared and wary and skeptical. But I was not forming an opinion based on my own life. I was taking other people’s experiences and counting them as my own.
It’s not the same thing.
There are many things that are unknown, as of now. But I feel much more comforted today being able to say that I know my doctor won’t leave me abandoned with a Covid test and no one to operate on me in case of an emergency. I feel satisfied that my husband can hold my hand, knows my stance and him and my doctor will BOTH advocate for me. As a team.
Who knows when this baby will come. No idea gender, no idea if Covid will even be a thing, and no idea what my feelings will be when it comes time to vaccinate baby, or take pain medication or have an early labor. But I know I can. I know I can birth a baby, have my husband there, and my doctor there. And that we will be safe.
If anything, I can tell you that through this pandemic, I have learned that feeling safe, keeping your family safe, and doing what you can to fight for the safety of others is completely subjective, and is the most important thing you will do with your time.
My body, right now, is safe. Growing a baby, a healthy baby. And for that I’m thankful. Tired of being pregnant, but thankful.