My third trimester was definitely the hardest, but shortest part of my pregnancy.
Almost immediately I was exhausted and useless. I went to bed at night around 8 or 9 o’clock, but slept about three hours. Every ten minutes or so, I would roll out of bed for a bathroom break, then return to bed. Randy would pat my back while I would whimper like an injured dog. My body was heavy. So very heavy and cumbersome. I couldn’t breathe, and I would literally go to the bathroom in between bathroom breaks. One time I had to go back to the bathroom before I had made it to bed again. I was miserable.
Not all of it was horrible, we got to see Blake in a 4D ultrasound, and he was adorable and big. He looked exactly like Randy, and I couldn’t have been happier. Because I didn’t have a torso, I was also able to watch him toil throughout the day. He didn’t have any big activities, mostly kicking and hiccuping. Watching Blake move around was the only thing that could make me smile.
I began to get Braxton Hicks contractions. They came so often that I began to worry that I was going into preterm labor. They weren’t super painful, just annoying and noticeable. At 30 weeks I thought I was about to give birth. I was in bed, writhing in pain, but had no contractions that night. I waited patiently for contractions, but all I could feel was my insides being ripped apart, and I could see him breakdancing inside of me. When the pain subsided I went to the bathroom and saw something insane. His butt was in my lap. I thought he had dropped or something. It was the craziest thing I had ever seen.
The next day I went to the doctor where they ordered an ultrasound. They determined that he had not dropped, Blake was breech. He flipped himself upside down in what little room he had. Already he was more flexible than Randy and I put together. I was promptly put on bedrest, thus having to cancel my second baby shower. My best friends came to my rescue, and arrived the next day to clean and set up his nursery. I really don’t deserve my friends. They are amazing.
At week 33 I was sitting on the couch where I felt a gush of what I thought was my water. I wasn’t sure what it felt like for your water to break, so we went to Labor and Delivery to see what the deal was. They weighed him in at 6lbs 7oz, but said that my water was still there, and I hadn’t dilated yet. I stayed overnight because of his massive size at 33 weeks, and they considered that my OB was off on his due date. I was frustrated, uncomfortable, and cracking up. The good people at Mercy Hospital didn’t have the heart to tell me that I had involuntarily peed my pants.
Because he was breech, and I still didn’t want a cesarian delivery, I started seeing my sister in law in Northwest Arkansas. She owns the most successful chiropractic practice in Pinnacle Hills and had a high success rate in turning breech babies. My adjustments and prenatal massages made me feel better, but I still wasn’t sleeping. When I did sleep, it was for about 30 minutes, and I was having vivid nightmares. I was starting to hate life in general.
I was seeing my OB twice a week at this point being placed on a fetal monitor, which was exhausting despite the fact that I was just laying there listening to and watching him move. He hated the monitors. By week 33 I was begging my doctor for a c section because I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted him out. He was using my ribcage as a batting helmet and driving to Northwest Arkansas was becoming painful. When I told my OB where his head was he felt my belly for the first time in my entire pregnancy and told me that his head was lower, at my side, and his knees were in my ribcage. He told me that at 36 weeks he would give me my final ultrasound and then we would determine what to do with him.
We didn’t make it to that ultrasound.