you go anywhere and the braxton-hicks are uncomfortable enough that you slow down.. and scare the living hell out of bystanders who start reaching for their cell phones.. and THEN ask you if you're in labour.
You Know You're Third Trimester When... - Page 2
...you shout out "OH!" in random public places b/c the kid has just stomped on your ribcage.
...you feel like you have UTI/bladder infection b/c the kid has just headbutted your pee receptacle.
...you start to feel like a character in "Alien".
Your daily schedule is:
clean something that doesn't need to be cleaned
sneak a piece of chocolate
clean something else that doesn't need to be cleaned
panic about how little time you have to finish cleaning things that don't need to be cleaned
1. You know you shouldn't be pigging out on sugar
2. Once you start eating, you can't stop yourself without an intervention
3. The baby decides he/she is going to hold the intervention by kicking more and harder than he/she has in weeks, especially in places that are already sore
So TRUE!!!! One day I was like "where'd she go?"
ALSO .....when your to-do-list takes twice as long and is twice as hard as it 'should'.
AND...you can't do your usual hike because squatting in the wet woods to pee 5X isn't an option!!
You plan everywhere you go and how long you will be gone for in terms of where the bathrooms are.
Rolling suddenly seems like the most efficient way to get out of bed.
You look hard at anything on the floor while trying to decide if it is really that important that it gets picked up or not...
Definitely. And if HAS to get picked up and there's no one else around to do it you push everything around with a broom into a pile so you only have to get down that low once. I keep seeing all these little pieces of wrapper on the ground in the kitchen and it makes me want to cry.
You pray your water doesn't break while you're cleaning because then it'll just be more mess you have to clean up!
Forget a first aid kit, you have an entire clean-up kit in the car in case your water breaks while you're shopping (which your DH/SO/OH is convinced is going to happen every time you leave the house).
Your labor/birth contact list is on your speed dial. And voice dial. You also delete recent calls to make sure you only have to press 'talk' twice to get to your doula... just in case.
You feel like a horrible mom already when you re-pack the diaper bag and realize you didn't add any socks. You then add 3 pairs.