I’ve finally given in to the ultrasound-derived due date, which is almost a week earlier than my due date by my own tracking. I was so fixated on going late and having to go to the hospital or even having to be induced that I overlooked the obvious flip side: this babe could come early, too! And if I have a 37-weeker, this discrepancy in timelines could mean the difference between the baby being considered premature and him being considered term. I’ll take up the “but I’m sure of my dates!” fight after their 37 weeks has passed. Miso sneaky.
So I’m 27 weeks and 1 day, it seems. Hello there, third trimester! You arrived so fast but you also took forever!
Here’s a wacky symptom for you: waking up in the middle of the night choking on my own stomach acid. I believe whoever coined the phrase “rude awakening” had this in mind. I woke up around midnight in a coughing fit with the sensation of heartburn in the top of my lungs. I went to the bathroom, where between violent coughs and sips of water I tried to assess whether the strong urge I was having to vomit was, in fact, about to result in vomiting. The coughing teamed with my pregnancy urethra (not exactly the Pentagon, at this point) to allow a small amount of urine to dribble out.
So to recap, instead of sleeping, I was now choking on stomach acid while trying to decide whether it was more essential that I vomit or urinate, considering there was only one toilet.
And now let us never speak of this again.
In less horrifying news, I’m reading the most marvelous book, “Great with Child: Letters to a Young Mother” by Beth Ann Fennelly. It’s a collection of letters written by a mother (who happens to be a poet) to her young friend, who had just become pregnant shortly after losing her own mother. The letters are beautiful – reflective, insightful, and full of interesting tidbits that the curious author has picked up here and there. I can see this book resonating with a wide audience, and am already looking forward to gifting it to pregnant friends. In fact, one need not be pregnant to revel in the author’s warm wisdom, which spans so much of this human condition of ours.
Two belly pics today, which are actually only two days apart, but the weekly countdown had to cross over somewhere.
By the way, forgive me for any disorganization or lack of clarity. I feel like a spider is spinning a web in my brain.