on pregnancy...the second and third trimesters

I've realized that I need to speed things up here as not only are we at my due date but in fact are now sharing our lives with a beautiful two-week old child. But we'll get to that.

The second trimester for me was particularly blissful. With the stress of the first trimester aside and my raging acid reflux better managed, I felt good. People said I was glowing. I did see it too - my normally alabaster skin tone was infused with a rosiness quite rare for me especially in the dead of winter. Scientifically, I told myself it had to be the increase in red blood cells giving my skin a pinker glow, but who knows. There doesn't always have to be a reason. And Dave and I fell into a rhythm. We managed to ski, snowshoe, and enjoy our normal winter activities, with care. We traveled to see his parents for a winter respite in Wyoming as well as with my family for a spring get-away in Florida. And baby continued to grow.

It was reassuring that we had monthly ultrasounds. We were able to get glimpses of our growing baby and continue to monitor him. And he thrived. Each month he got bigger and bigger and continued to rank in well above the fifty percentile for fetuses of similar age. So we made lots of jokes about how the fibroid, which had seemed to max out at 12cmx12cmx12cm (grapefruit sized), was his pillow, imaginary friend, and my second baby.

Meanwhile, everybody loved to weigh in. I was carrying very much in front so everyone was shocked at how "big" I was. However at the midwife's every month, I measured point on. It is funny how people love to comment on other women's bodies. You would think we would be more sensitive! It never phased me though. In part, I was so delighted to be pregnant and because we were worried about the baby's growth I was happy to look pregnant and rotund. I felt beautiful and vital.

The third trimester was slightly less delightful. While I had gained only the minimum weight recommended, my body was starting to hurt. My hips and round ligaments took the brunt of it, such that sleeping on my side, both my preferred sleeping position and the only one advised at this late stage of pregnancy, was impossible. And reflux again reared its ugly head, though not nearly as fiercely as in the first trimester. One of our midwives advised early on - if you don't have a comfy recliner, I would get one - I suspect you will be sleeping in it by the end. Indeed. (Thanks Dad for the donation of yours!) But I did manage to sleep reasonable. And it is no joke about the diminishing bladder capacity as the baby drops. I would have to run to the bathroom every couple hours, day or night, barley making it without peeing my pants, to then only go an ounce or two. Totally unsatisfying.

But we were geared up for the long haul. I don't know why they give women a "due date". The odds that the baby will arrive on said date are slim. And in fact, the baby is considered full-term up to two weeks before and after the "due date". So why not just give a month range (or whatever period of time they would allow the pregnancy to continue without intervention). We kept a loose mentality about it. I had seen many of my friends struggle at the end when their due date came and went with no labor in sight. But in the end we didn't have to test our theory of acceptance. Like many predictions we had received, our baby chose to be an early bird.