Unhungry...
...and other updates.
My appetite suddenly took a big slide down the hill. Did this happen to anyone else in the third trimester? I could barely eat in the first trimester; was hungry all the time and liking everything in the second; and now, I seem to have slipped back a little bit into the way I felt the first trimester. Thank God it's not nearly as severe, but I do feel some loss of appetite and a sense that if I eat too much, or if I eat food with too much taste, I'm going to be sick. I theorize that it's because my stomach is now being crushed to a minuscule size and it just can't hold that much in it. Not to be gross, but sometimes I suddenly barf a little in my mouth.
This is a tough one, the third trimester. I am tired. When I try to go for a nice vigorous walk, I get tired and winded easily (and I can't walk very fast, so even a short walk takes forever). I have shortness of breath more often and I'm having insomnia, partly because I'm uncomfortable and have to pee all the time and partly because I'm afraid of what's coming. I stare into the darkness and see all my fears there, fears related to pain and mortality and my fitness to be a parent; then, by the time I've gotten to sleep, it's usually time to get up and pee.
My skin is on fire right over my ribcage. I have to sit with a pack of frozen mixed vegetables over it in the evening. I have shooting pains in my bladder, especially when I'm vertical--as with my diminishing stomach, I think it's related to my increasingly large uterus, which is pressuring my bladder. Sometimes the baby's movements send the shooting pains into my bladder, too.
But it's hard not to be cheerful when you have a dresserful of very, very small clothes.
My appetite suddenly took a big slide down the hill. Did this happen to anyone else in the third trimester? I could barely eat in the first trimester; was hungry all the time and liking everything in the second; and now, I seem to have slipped back a little bit into the way I felt the first trimester. Thank God it's not nearly as severe, but I do feel some loss of appetite and a sense that if I eat too much, or if I eat food with too much taste, I'm going to be sick. I theorize that it's because my stomach is now being crushed to a minuscule size and it just can't hold that much in it. Not to be gross, but sometimes I suddenly barf a little in my mouth.
This is a tough one, the third trimester. I am tired. When I try to go for a nice vigorous walk, I get tired and winded easily (and I can't walk very fast, so even a short walk takes forever). I have shortness of breath more often and I'm having insomnia, partly because I'm uncomfortable and have to pee all the time and partly because I'm afraid of what's coming. I stare into the darkness and see all my fears there, fears related to pain and mortality and my fitness to be a parent; then, by the time I've gotten to sleep, it's usually time to get up and pee.
My skin is on fire right over my ribcage. I have to sit with a pack of frozen mixed vegetables over it in the evening. I have shooting pains in my bladder, especially when I'm vertical--as with my diminishing stomach, I think it's related to my increasingly large uterus, which is pressuring my bladder. Sometimes the baby's movements send the shooting pains into my bladder, too.
But it's hard not to be cheerful when you have a dresserful of very, very small clothes.
posted by Sarah Goss at 10:27 PM
11 Comments:
I remember being frustrated at how little I could eat. There was just not that much room in there for food. Soon there will be more room. In fact, if you breastfeed and are like me, once the baby is born, no humanly consumable amount of food will be enough to make you feel full.
And the insomnia. Awake. Awake. Awake. Soon the insomnia will be gone, but not the awake part.
Hmm. I'm not being very reassuring, am I?
:-(
I do like how you're stirring things up with the frozen mixed vegetables, though. When I sprained my ankle, the emergency room doctor told me to get frozen peas. And so I was totally compliant and got frozen peas. I'm sure it would have been more fun with mixed vegetables. I mean, that's like a party in a bag. And talk about celebrating diversity!
But what tastes good these days, sweetie? Because maybe you can redirect your anxieties onto fantasies about barrels of this type of nourishment. And the barrels can be wearing the tiny clothes.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Oh, boy, this sounds familiar. When I was pregnant with daughter #2 (who was born 2/5/05), my eyes were definitly bigger than my stomach. I would get suddenly, appallingly hungry--and three bites later, nope, none for me, thanks.
It seemed I hurt all the time. The kid jumped on my bladder. I could not remember what it was like not to be huge. Hell, I couldn't remember what it was like to wear pantyhose.
Heh. So: appetite will improve; ability to sleep will not. Good to know! :-) I would much rather hear the reality than be reassured, so I appreciate all the info. from the moms, a lot! It *is* reassuring, too, because the other pregnant ladies in my childbirth classes are not in pain, for some reason--so I find it reassuring that I am not the only one finding this experience painful. I was starting to think I was a freak.
Hee -- the image of the dresser full of small clothes is making ME cheerful, and I'm 3,000 miles away.
Hang in there. You're doing fine. This part is over soon.
Oh, I had one more thing to say. (Gee, that almost never happens.) Regarding your fitness to be a parent. The good thing about babies is, you kinda get to ease into them. They don't do much, at first. Just eat, sleep, fill diapers, and that's pretty much it. By the time they're more complicated, you've got the basics down.
Don't worry. You are absolutely qualified to be the parent of this particular child. Take care of yourself.
Mita, that's right--my chosen metaphor for pain control is the mixed green salad. The only problem is that as the vegetables begin to defrost on my ribcage, the smell of them wafts up to my nostrils, and that's not such a good thing in these days of returning barfiness.
Small clothes are very, very appealing. Small socks, in particular, are to die for. But yesterday I was given some small MITTENS, so now the small socks have a rival.
while we're on the subject of teeny tiny socks, what I think is just adorable is what I saw in a magazine... teeny tiny striped socks stuffed with catnip and reused as cat toys.
Maybe Baby G-M can donate a few socks to the cause when she gets too big for her teeny tiny socks?
Of course we don't want Claude and Kerouac to mistake her for one of their cat toys... so maybe best when she's big enough to pull their tails!
Heh--I love this idea, Katherine! I love the small socks so much that it's nice to think of them living on and serving another function. And I have the suspicion that the cats will be more afraid of the baby than the other way around (though Claude is quite ferocious, of course...).
Post a Comment
<< Home