I start the 3rd trimester today. And I’m so tired. Not so much physically, oddly enough, but mentally and emotionally. I don’t think I ever believed we would really make it this far. Something would go wrong, something always does after all. It’s hard to grasp that I only have twelve weeks, 12 short weeks, until my due date.
And all the things to do in those weeks. Housewarming parties, birthday parties, at least one shower, a 6 hour (1-way) drive to see my inlaws at 8 months, prom. Yes, I’m going to prom, 31 weeks pregnant, with my husband who is chaperoning. My first ever prom date. Oh, and there’s the whole “preparing for baby’s arrival”.
Because I don’t have anything done.
Our apartment is a baby death trap. The lovely vision of a complete and decorated nursery, hah. We have a crib and a mattress, a few baby odds and ends (Converse!), but that’s it. The dresser is still in the garage in a half-stripped state. I can’t for the life of me figure out how to protect my embroidery projects from the orifice-induced terror of a baby while keeping them moderately accessible. The (not yet sewn together) baptismal gown is stretched on my pin frame with 4 letters on the chest stem-stitched. The TV remote AAA batteries are dead. Big problems and little ones, all in a big fricking pile on my living room floor.
It makes my brain hurt just thinking about it all.
I’m emotionally tired too. Tired and overwhelmed by all the opinions on motherhood and parenting and baby stuff that are flung at me like monkeys fling… Those friends who offer their experience without pressure to treat it as gospel, they are truly priceless. Also rare.
And the baby stuff. The junk mail has doubled this trimester, all pimping out the must-have baby products without which your child is undoubtedly suffering the most insidious form of child abuse – lack of material possessions. People look at you oddly, and shake their heads if you mention not buying some vital bit of baby gear, without regard to whether it is useful for you. I half expect to be chastised for not purchasing a swing set even though we don’t have a yard!
And I won’t even get into the pink v. blue debate. Today, at least, you are safe. But only because if I got into it I would be late for work.