This weekend it felt like the third trimester came out of nowhere, rifled through my cupboards and sat on my couch in ratty sweatpants eating all my favourite snacks. Does that make sense? It’s a metaphor for taking over my LIFE! Thursday I hit 30 weeks (big milestone in my head, kind of like arriving at the home stretch because after the 30s come the 40s, and if you even make it to the 40s you know you won’t finish them), and every day since then I have been tired, uncomfortable, and having acid reflux while all my internal organs get pummelled. I think maybe the Truck has realized that there are two more months to grow and it has more or less maxed out the current living space available in my belleh. It’s not very impressed with my ribs, I think because it keeps getting behind/underneath them and just… pushing. Or maybe I have it all wrong and the Truck is just scratching its back on my ribs like a bear scratches its back on a tree.

Either way, I have come to terms with the likely arrival of stretch marks in my near future, there’s a roll of Tums in my pocket, and I am more and more excited to meet our baby one day. Our due date is only 66 days away, so however long this discomfort/closeness with the baby lasts, I know it won’t be forever!

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