Pregnancy | By Jenna Thompson | Updated: Sep. 6, 2023
Let’s be real—I’m officially done with pregnancy. I had checked out long before that plus sign even graced my test strip. This is my third time around in just over three years, and it feels like I’ve been pregnant for an eternity.
While some folks absolutely love the experience, I am not one of them. If I hear one more person tell me to cherish these moments, I might just shoot them a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Seriously, how does one find joy in being pregnant? Your body suddenly belongs to someone else, and you’re expected to follow a laundry list of dos and don’ts.
Alcohol? Out of the question. Sushi? Nope. Caffeine? Only a smidgen. Seafood? Select types and in tiny amounts. And let’s not even start on the medication restrictions. The list is endless. On top of that, I’m chasing after two toddlers, leaving me zero time to “enjoy” this pregnancy.
First Pregnancy
Ah, the first one—so new, so delightful, and so full of excitement. Everyone showers you with attention, heaping on compliments and declaring how radiant you look. Naps are practically mandatory, and you can barely lift a finger without someone rushing to help.
You track every week on an app, knowing precisely what fruit resembles your growing baby. You can’t resist glancing in every mirror, hoping to see that beautiful bump.
Second Pregnancy
By the second pregnancy, people still care, but the enthusiasm is mellowed. Offers of help come, but they’re less frequent. You’re juggling your firstborn while still finding moments to relax.
Hiding your baby bump becomes a challenge as you start showing earlier than before. The initial excitement gives way to a wave of exhaustion.
Third Pregnancy
Where is everyone? It feels like I’m on my own. Friends and family seem to have vanished just when I need them most. Offers of assistance are nowhere to be found.
I have no time for myself, let alone a nap. My days consist of herding two tiny tornadoes while keeping our home from spiraling out of control. When someone asks how far along I am, I can barely remember my due date, let alone the weeks. If they’re truly curious, they can do the math themselves.
I started showing the moment I conceived—maybe even before, just from the thought of another little one on the way. My bladder? Let’s just say it’s a daily struggle, and sneezing, laughing, or even coughing can lead to unexpected situations.
I’m Over It
As I near the end of my third trimester, my patience is wearing thin. I couldn’t care less about my appearance. If it fits, I’m wearing it—plaid and polka dots? Sure, why not! Flip-flops are life. They’re easy, and I can skip the hassle of socks. Forget about tight clothes or jeans; I’m all about comfort now.
You might catch me recycling the same outfit more frequently than is deemed acceptable. It’s comfy, and I refuse to struggle with getting dressed more than I have to. And my hair? It’s been in a messy bun so long that it resembles something out of a horror film at this point.
Sure, I might look back at this time with a hint of regret, but that’s for another day. Right now? I’m just surviving.
Too Big for Comfort
I’m too big for everything—clothes, comfort, standing, sitting, and even living. Bending over? Forget it. If I drop something, I weigh the decision carefully before attempting to pick it up. Unless it’s a matter of life or death, it might just stay there until I can bribe one of my kids into retrieving it or until my husband comes to the rescue.
If I do find myself on the floor, I’ve become a master at entertaining my kids from that position. Everything can happen at ground level—reading, puzzles, coloring. I can even pretend to chase them while just scooting around, arms outstretched. Some might call it lazy parenting; I call it genius.
The Finish Line Is Near
Putting aside my complaints, I recognize how blessed I truly am. Soon, I will welcome three amazing children into my life, and I couldn’t be more grateful. That said, you better believe I’m counting down the days until this baby makes their grand exit. Not much will change about my attitude or appearance, but at least I’ll regain my body—and my old friend, wine, will be back to help me cope!
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Summary
The author humorously portrays the trials and tribulations of her third pregnancy, contrasting it with her earlier experiences. She expresses frustration with societal expectations, the physical challenges of pregnancy, and the lack of support she feels. Despite the challenges, she acknowledges her blessings and anticipates the arrival of her new baby.
Keyphrase: third pregnancy struggles
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