27 Weeks

I hit 27 weeks on Saturday.  Baby Duck weighs about two pounds, is approximately 14 1/2 inches from head to toe, and is compared on one baby website to the size of a head of cauliflower.  Excellent.

Technically, I still have a few days to go before I am officially in the THIRD TRIMESTER.

[Insert many cliches here about how time flies, etc.]

The thing is, I have been feeling third trimester for about a week already.

That is to say, I feel huge.

 The dogs are mesmerized by the belly.  This picture does not do its size justice.  I think the sweater (and/or the camera distance) makes it appear smaller than real life.

Maneuvering my body around on a daily basis has shifted from bopping around town in a regular-sized sedan to making painstaking turns in a school bus.  Getting up off the couch, rolling over in bed, and bending over to pick up anything now requires vocal accompaniment as I grunt and groan my way through the day.

I feel heavy in my hips, like my torso is squishing down onto my legs (hmm...  I wonder why?).  When I shift position (especially when I get out of the car and start walking) I automatically have to pee, even if I've just peed a few minutes ago.  My feet are starting to get swollen after standing in front of the class.  And, yes, today will be the last day I wear heels because seriously.  Not worth it.  I need to get these maternity pants hemmed so I can wear them with flats.

Also, I am quite sure that my thighs and my upper arms are also getting bigger and it is even possible that I am getting a Fat Pregnancy Nose, although that could be paranoia.

I've gotten to the point that slouching on the sofa is not comfortable because I sink so much I feel like I can't breathe.  Getting comfortable requires elaborate pillow and puggle positioning so that my low back is supported, my feet are elevated, and my spine is straight.  And by the time I get in that position?  I have to get up and go pee.

And, do you know what else?

 I am going to get so much bigger.  

I have thirteen more weeks before d-day!   In all likelihood, Baby Duck is going to leap from the 2 pounds she weighs now to at least 8 pounds.  I'm basing this on family history--I weighed 8 lbs. 7 oz., my brother was 9 lbs. 4 oz., and David was a 10-pounder (mercy!).

In all seriousness, though, anytime I start to feel uncomfortable or I want to just walk away from something I've dropped on the floor rather than bend over squat down (preggos are supposed to squat, not bend!), I think of our good friends whose baby girl had to be delivered about a week ago via emergency c-section--about twelve weeks before her expected due date.  At 28 weeks, their daughter was born weighing just over 2 pounds.  And while her mama isn't dealing with pregnancy symptoms anymore, I know that she would have endured anything if it meant that she could keep her baby safely growing inside her.

So I am remembering to be grateful for every kick in the bladder and every shirt now straining to stay down over my belly.  It helps me to keep in mind that me getting bigger means Baby Duck getting bigger, which is just what she needs to be doing.

I think we can all agree that it would be fine if she stopped this side of 10 pounds, though.