Pregnancy Diaries: The Third Trimester

So it’s been some time since my third trimester post - and as I’m sure you’ll have gathered by now, baby arrived! But we’ll go into that story another day. For now, let’s go back to week 28 onwards (not that I feel I can remember it right now, but it’s very interesting to look back on it…).

And I can’t believe we made it, made it in this current pandemic and shit show of 2020. But the end is in sight!

WEEK 28

Managed five days without crying which in pregnancy days is a long old time let me tell you that. It was soon short lived after another midwife appointment (which may I add, I turned up two days early for and that really is a turnout for the books cause I’m usually super late!), when she measured me on the bigger side. And as someone who’s been comparing her bump and worrying over labour, it doesn’t go down well that you may have a big baby. That’ll be coming out somehow…

On the positive, I’ve also been referred again for some therapy as I’m feeling incredibly anxious, crying at every appointment and having far too many worries, so I think this is the right step.

WEEK 29

Another week down, with actually very little to report. Oh except for one day that’ll stick with me… I took a cream cake into the bath with me one afternoon, 2.30pm to be exact and Tim looked at me about to say something with laughter, but knew, he just knew that you can never say anything to a pregnant person. Pregnant people can do absolutely anything. A glorious moment that I won’t be forgetting.

WEEK 30

I can’t believe we’re at 30 weeks - 10 weeks to go! And as Tim said “if you were on Strictly come Dancing, then this would be Blackpool week”. So there’s that.

Also really feeling the whole opinion thing. Everyone has an opinion, but then will back it up by telling you not to listen to everyones opinion, and for someone who can be so easily influenced, let’s just say that I’m feeling quite overwhelmed and sad by everyones said opinion…

WEEK 31

The worst week of my life happened this week. Added with being pregnant, I’m not quite sure how I’ve managed to come out the other side.

We’d seen my dad on the Sunday night just before and by Monday morning he’d been taken to hospital feeling unwell. The day went on and we sat around waiting to hear how he was (nobody was allowed with him) and with everything as it was, we suspected COVID. 9pm rolled around and as Tim and I sat on the sofa, I mentioned that I’d not felt the baby move in the last 24 hours. This wasn’t uncommon but when I still knew what the mild movement felt like, it felt strange that I hadn’t even felt that. So we headed back off to triage, and Tim waited outside. The midwives couldn’t have been more wonderful, especially as I sat waiting to hear how my dad was, so they felt they wanted to monitor me, just to take one stress away. As I sat there hooked up to the monitors, hearing baby’s heartbeat, that’s when everything became a blur. I found out my dad had been put on a ventilator and into a coma.

I couldn’t breathe. I felt so helpless.

And yet, I also knew that I had to try as hard as I could to not let the stress, the worry and the heartache affect my body.

But I really thought that was it. I thought I’d lost my dad and I didn’t know a way back from it.

After a rough 24 hours unsure on my dads condition but with the news it wasn’t COVID (we took ourselves for a check too), we grabbed our bags (including our hospital bag) and headed straight to my mum to be with her. The week was just a blur, and the stress really took it’s toll on my body. Everyone fluttered around me, pushing me to look after myself but I just felt I couldn’t in that moment, when my priority felt like my dad.

After four long days, my dad came round from the coma, but we knew it wasn’t a quick road ahead. Meanwhile, my mum and I made sure we took a long walk everyday, talked about our feelings and cried a lot, but in a bittersweet moment, she got to properly spend time with me and my bump. Something we’d not been able to do with the pandemic. So in the darkest of times, there were small glimmers of light.

WEEK 32

Still at my parents house, just taking each day as it comes. I’ve also been talking through my pregnancy options after having an assessment with the women’s mental health services who have decided that I do need to talk to someone regarding my feelings and everything going on. The therapist made such a valid point, in that as a society it’s been drilled into us that pregnancy is such a beautiful and lovely thing, and everyone should love it, which of course it is a beautiful thing, but not everyone enjoys it and we should be normalising this rather than shaming those who are struggling, and building up this constant feeling of guilt. It really left me with quite a lot of thoughts.

We’ve also been talking through pregnancy options, and I think whilst we can only plan so much, I’m going to try for a water birth and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll opt for a c section. My midwife has been incredibly supportive of this, and thinks this is the best decision given my anxiety.

WEEK 33

I’ve been booked in for a growth scan this week because i’m measuring big. I really can’t function well if I’m due a big baby - purely for the fact it has to come out most likely from my vagina. 

I’m also very fed up now. And feeling super impatient.

In other news, my dad came home, which was such light relief. He’s got a way to go, but knowing he’s home has taken such a weight off.

WEEK 34

GOSH, had a bit of a scare this week in that I couldn’t tell if I was having contractions/Braxton Hicks or just lightening crotch. What I do know, is that it wasn’t painless like they say the Braxton Hicks are, and it didn’t last 15-30 seconds like the internet says - it just went on for a solid 12 hours before I ended up calling triage. After a bath, trying for a poo and even a nap, I was asked to go into triage for a check over. On arrival the midwife asked if I’d got my bags packed and reminding me that some babies come early. In that moment, it was music to my ears.

Five hours later after being hooked up to the monitor, a doctor visit, blood tests and a vaginal examination and a spectrum, I was informed that I wasn’t in labour (boo), but I had two things they noticed: Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD) and Cervical Ectropion.

SPD is what was causing the pain and ‘lightening’ sensation, where the pelvic joints become stiff and move unevenly. Getting out of bed, opening your legs, and doing simple daily activities can become harder the further along in pregnancy you get. So I had to just rest up, try gentle movements with my legs and not to sit cross legged (although I later learnt from my midwife that actually this isn’t true, and if you feel more comfortable this way then that’s fine).

And Cervical Ectropion is where the softer cells inside of the cervical canal spread to the outer of your cervix, which explains all the bleeding that I’ve had throughout. They were surprised that nobody had picked this up beforehand. So with a little more insight into my vagina and everything inbetween, I was told to rest, keep an eye on it, make sure my bag was properly packed, and sent on my way home. Again.

WEEK 35

Feeling super flat this week. A mixture of pain, being uncomfortable and just fed up. I know I’m super impatient, but my gosh I wouldn’t mind if this little one makes an early appearance!

WEEK 36

It’s a hot week. And I’m talking the weather is ridiculous. I don’t think I did anything except sit infront of the fan, and anytime I had to move away from it, I cried.

So you can imagine my face when Tim suggested a walk in the park with some friends on the weekend. I was feeling horrifically big, hot, and v v fed up - why would I want to walk in a park?! But there was clearly a reason for it because after being forced out on the Saturday morning in 36degree heat (with a few tears), I came home to a little surprise garden baby shower organised by my best friend. Now I’m not really one for that whole ‘let’s make a celebration about you’ kinda thing, so a baby shower wasn’t something I ever really thought of - especially in a time like this, but it was quite honestly the surprise I didn’t know I needed. An incredible grazing board, fresh pavlova, delicious sponge cake and plenty of nosecco on ice - it was so so nice to be surrounded by a few close friends (and our mothers who travelled up too) and actually celebrate this pregnancy that has felt far from a normal pregnancy. And of course, you can bet I cried a whole lot.

WEEK 37

Feels like the days are getting slower and slower. As am I…

And I feel like my feet are getting bigger and bigger. As is my stomach…

OHHH and my uterus keeps tightening, I’m fairly sure! I’ve also been thinking how whilst the third trimester has felt the hardest physically, I think mentally I’ve been the happiest of them - which is laughable as I still know I’ve cried a lot, but maybe just not AS MUCH as the other two trimesters). But now we’re only a few weeks away, my mind is so so overwhelmed and all over the place. My notes section on my phone is just brimming with worries (I’m still talking to my therapist which helps), and I’m not sleeping one bit. So what do you do when you know sleep is limited? I now take baths at 10pm and if I’m awake at 3-4am, then i’ll get up and watch something like Come Dine With Me or Don’t Tell The Bride - basically, trash. What i’ve learnt so much in these last few weeks (contrary to the bullshit ‘sleep whilst you can/stock up on your sleep’ comments that have been made) is that you really cannot force sleep. And so you just have to ride it out. Even if it means eating tuc biscuits in the bath at 2am…

WEEK 38

The emotions have been back in full force this week - teary at everything in the world, and also to do with the house move (that I haven’t mentioned but basically we have like two weeks left till our move date, which is also two weeks left till baby… So I’m sure you can imagine how that feels!).

We finalised my coping birth plan and both Tim and I have agreed that actually this therapy has been incredibly helpful, in that I feel a little more confident with my views of what I want to do/don’t want to do and I’ve even managed to put it into use a few times around friends and family. Even if I’ve been met with questioning as to why I don’t think I’ll breastfeed and why I may have a c section if I can’t have a water birth - i’ve just shunned it off because as I’ve been told so much lately by my therapist: I owe nobody any justification.

I want to think I’m at peace with everything now. I’m not so sure, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction!

WEEK 39

I have never felt more unlike myself than I do this week. I completely hit rock bottom.

I honestly didn’t think I could do it again. Not after my dad got ill.

Why is this always happening to me?

I didn’t expect to be getting a sense of deja vu from three years ago when my niece was born days before my little grandad died, but here we are again. My big grandad died, and I’m days away from my due date.

Everything feels so out of my control. I sit here wondering when we’ll move house, if I’ll be able to make my grandads funeral, and when and where I’ll go into labour. It’s all making me so so anxious, and I just can’t find it within myself to remain positive. I’m trying to relax and calm myself, but I’m caught up in an overwhelming sense of loss, sadness, grief, confusion, panic, terror and just feeling like I don’t know who I am anymore. And now I’m worrying, because based on how this year has already gone for us, things are only going from bad to worse. I have to try and keep this up, because I’ve not come this far to only come this far.

Sleep is non existent. And I had a panic attack at 3am. Tim sat up with me for three hours talking me through everything, trying to calm me down for fear of having to take me to hospital and monitored. He was right, in that I had to try and breathe, and not add the weight of the world to me, but I feel at such a loss. Such sadness. Everything is getting the better of me and I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel like me.

But I know that I have to do it for this little life inside of me.

WEEK 40

Considering the amount of messages that we received on our due date (which are a little laughable like - of course I’ve not had the baby, I’d have text you if so…), I actually feel pretty content and happier than I had done last week, and all pregnancy. Tim and I managed to laugh all the messages off, and hid out in our own little bubble trying to think of all the fun things we’ll be able to do once this little one arrives.

The day after due date, 6th September to be precise I woke at 6am with a bit of blood in the toilet, thinking it was just another one of those teases, only to deliver my baby hours after.

THAT story, my labour story, is for another day. Because it’s a wild (and quick) one…