Third Trimester

As I sat at the table licking a spoon full of Nutella I thought to myself, who the hell have I become? Although considered a completely normal activity, it's definitely not me. This is the trimester that tests you, makes you question your sanity and consider looking up a DIY c-section on YouTube to free yourself. It's not like it hasn't flown by, I'm trying to remember what's happened the past 9 months. I miss my clothes, and reaching the floor and not being kicked in the bladder as I'm walking away from the toilet. I'm tired of being a human kinder egg. I know you're in there, I want my prize. I've been reasonably patient but now I'm dying to see your face. I don't think I've had any new side effects this trimester, but I can say with confidence that I have kept Tums in business all on my own. You are awfully heavy in there though, my balance is shot.
We packed up our tiny apartment and spread out into the house where you'll be running laps around me in no time. (tried and tested by your cousins) But when the house was all organized and I was sitting on the couch I realized this house is too damn quiet. It's waiting for you. I washed all your laundry, (how do you have more clothes than me?) organized your room, bought the last couple things on the registry we still needed. Still waiting.
The cats have been glued to me, they can't wait to get all up in your business. They tested your bassinet, seems unanimously good. I've stocked up the freezer with meals and left Dad in charge of those so we'll see how it goes. I bake nearly every single day so maybe you're a tiny Masterchef Jr.
It's very strange to miss someone who's face you've never even seen but here we are. I've made it a fun game to see if I can finish the last season of Gossip Girl before you get here. (and I'm really hoping you win this one)
Thankfully I've made it without strangers grabbing my belly (it's crucial to keep a look on your face that says I'll break your fingers if you try) but I've also been asked a lot of questions that no one would ask if I wasn't smuggling a watermelon. It's not like I'm secretive I just feel like by comparing yourself to another persons baby journey you are discrediting what you have done. You realize that you too have created a human right ? Like a whole entire person who's going to have a life and hopefully do great things. It's a mind blowing thing. Something that numbers on a scale cannot affect, during or after. I haven't let it bother me for a moment BECAUSE THAT IS A PERSON IN THERE. And I hope that every other person whether your children are older or still babies realizes that and lets it go. Look what you made. It's a terrible beauty standard that has been set and shouldn't even be acknowledged. Beautiful is being kind. Maybe you need to watch more Ellen.
So I'm going to sit here, probably impatiently, and wait for those contractions to start. I may be wobbly but I'm running for the finish line. (but also the bathroom)