I’m in the final weeks of the third trimester! I’m huge, uncomfortable, and excited to meet my baby. Going into spontaneous labour is a mysterious event and it really depends on when the baby is ready to come. She could come tomorrow or two weeks from now, who knows! I’ve learned through pregnancy classes that the baby is very much an active participant in labour. For instance, the baby will release certain hormones to prepare the uterus for the big day, baby will help press against the contracting uterus to move further into and out of the birth canal when labour has commenced, and baby can even get tired or stressed if the labour is taking too long or something isn’t going right. I’ve made many notes about the third trimester experience and will try to assemble them below in a sensible manner. The writing won’t be very good because I have no brain right now! The baby has stolen it!
Note # 1
The third trimester has been physically and mentally the hardest. It’s just a big waiting game and it’s extremely boring. I’m not able to do much besides shuffle back and forth to my lazy boy chair. I’m almost entirely dependent again on Tristan to maintain the house (similar to the first trimester). He’s the sole dishwasher, cook, does most of the driving, cleaning, helps me put on my socks, and clips my toenails! Our new family feels like a Russian nesting doll—I fit into Tristan’s body, reliant on his physical abilities, and the baby fits into mine.
My mental state has also been entirely disinterested in anything that isn’t baby, baby, baby. I walk around either thinking baby thoughts or getting repetitive, never-ending songs like “99 bottles of beer on the wall” stuck in my head. I have zero interest in reading (unless it’s baby forums), going out to do activities (besides getting groceries), or working on my PhD. I’ve had to table my soul for the past nine months to become a gestating animal. I’ve become steeped in serious biological work. I’m not sure where my brain has gone, but it certainly hasn’t been the same since becoming pregnant. I’ve read in forums that it takes around two years postpartum to feel like yourself again, so I’ll keep that in mind as I move into early parenthood.
Note # 2
Pregnancy makes you feel very physically vulnerable. There’s always a fear (if I am alone) that a man will punch me in the stomach or assault me. I think this is probably some ancient intuition to keep me and baby safe.
I’ve also become more afraid of Tristan falling ill or suddenly dying. What would I do then? How could I raise the baby? I certainly couldn’t do it alone. If he died suddenly, I think I’d plead to move into my sister and her husband’s basement so they could help raise the baby. Or I’d go to my dad’s house, but that would be less welcoming (my dad is rarely home).
My aunt (also disabled) lived with my grandparents for most of her life and they helped raise my cousin. The takeaway: pregnancy makes you vulnerable.
Note # 3 (a parade of medical specialists)
The allergist
A few weeks ago I had an appointment with an allergist to see if I had a true allergy to penicillin. In pregnancy, there’s something called Group B strep and, if I tested positive for it, the antibiotic of choice is penicillin. I was very nauseous that day so I couldn’t do the oral challenge, but seemed to pass the skin test. The allergist had severe morning sickness for both of her pregnancies and reassured me that once the placenta is delivered, I’d no longer be nauseous and sick. “You’ll actually be hungry once the placenta is out,” she said. I couldn’t wait for that! For nine months, I’ve had to eat vicariously with my eyes, watching food shows that usually involved people overeating.
I asked the allergist if she had waited to finish her medical studies before having children. “Yes,” she said. “I don’t think it would have been possible to be pregnant and do both.” She asked if I was able to do much in my program during my pregnancy. “Absolutely zero.” I felt less bad telling her this than telling others who have asked me this same question. Maybe things would have been different if I had had an easier pregnancy.
The anaesthesiologist
I also met with the anaesthesiologist at the local hospital I’ll be delivering at. We went over a few of my health conditions in order to clear me for an epidural (if I wanted one). We then started discussing how pregnancy is undervalued in our society. She mentioned that the rights that pregnant people have been granted have been made by men. (i.e. you may theoretically get pregnant and work to support yourself, but you might not get paid parental leave, you might be laid off due to pregnancy, or your career will never be as serious or successful as your male counterparts). I’ve been thinking a lot about how I haven’t been around any pregnant people in my adult life. I’ve been unable to witness the slow transformation of the pregnant body.
I know about pregnancy only what everybody knows about it, which is what it looks like from the outside. I have walked past it many times. I have wondered what goes on behind its high walls.
From A Life's Work by Rachel Cusk
This invisibility would certainly be alienating for me if I didn’t have a good partner who has been a great witness to the gradual unfolding of my pregnancy. Of course, I’ve also tried to ply information from my sister-in-law and mother-in-law, but their pregnancies were so long ago that one forgets the day-to-day details. (Oh, and thank goodness for pregnancy forums or blog.)
The naturopath
Because I’ve been so sick with nausea and throwing up, I haven’t been able to keep up with oral iron supplementation and the baby takes literally all your iron so taking these supplements is important. By the start of the third trimester, my iron had tanked and I would get out of breath driving. Shoulder checking? Exhausting. Holding my arms up to use the steering wheel? Exhausting. I needed medical help! Unfortunately, to qualify for iron infusion in the public health system, I needed my iron stores and my hemoglobin to tank by a few more points. So, onto the private route! Naturopaths in British Columbia were only approved last year by Health Canada to deliver private IV iron infusions, so I’m not sure what pregnant people did before that. (Let them suffer!) I wish I didn’t have to pay out-of-pocket for this expense, but I’m trying to see it as financially equal to oral supplements which are expensive, hard on the stomach, and take a long time to rebuild iron stores. I’ve done one session (it takes five low doses during pregnancy to get your iron back to normal levels apparently), but I’ll go back postpartum for a single megadose (because money).
Note # 4
I’ve been really bad about visually documenting my pregnancy. Here’s a collage of the times I felt motivated to document the bump throughout this pregnancy.
Next up will be the birth story! Wish me luck that both baby and me come out of it healthy!