Yesterday I tweeted this lovely sentiment:

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Here’s the thing – 3rd trimester is kicking. my. butt. (while also making it 5 times larger. Go figure)

Heartburn, fatigue, shortness of breath, restless leg syndrome, hormones, constant hunger, pelvic pain, swollen fingers/feet/everything. It’s been fun.


Over the weekend, I attempted giving myself a pep talk. I’m only 31 weeks, so the end is still many weeks away and I can’t be a miserable wench the entire time. I tried boosting myself up with how blessed I am and how grateful I should be to experience all of this. I took long walks with the dog to clear my head. I ate Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches. Nothing was clearing the funk.

And then something very cool happened.

At our last ultrasound at 28 weeks, we saw that Charlotte was still in breech position. Obviously this sent me into a tailspin of research on c-section concerns, absurd yoga positions, and weird old wives tales about frozen vegetables on your stomach and flashlights up your hoo-hah. On the opposite end, my midwife wasn’t concerned in the least and said not to attempt anything until 36 weeks. Since then, I’ve been doing my best to be patient. A rare characteristic in me, for sure.

Sean and I are probably going to be ZOMGTerrible parents because we don’t usually talk to my stomach out loud. It just seems awkward. Poor Charlotte is going to come out thinking her name is Stanley and that she’s a “such a good puppy!” because talking to the dog like a human is completely normal for us. Oops. But last night I found myself home alone for a few hours and figured I’d give something a shot. So I turned off the TV and just enjoyed the silence for a few minutes before I spoke out loud with a hand on my belly. I very kindly asked Charlotte to flip around for me and even promised  her that if she’d just flip head down, I’d let her kick me in the ribs all she wanted with no complaints. Speaking to your stomach is a weird and ridiculous thing. It just is.

Once I was done bartering with my fetus, I turned the TV back on and resumed my nightly routine of watching too much Bravo Network. Within a few minutes, Charlotte started squirming like crazy to the point where it was uncomfortable. I shrugged it off since we all know she has an affinity for the nightlife. However, after a few more movements, I realized these movements felt different and rushed upstairs to see if I could find her heart beat with the fetal doppler. (Um yep, we have one at home. Best $50 ever.) Instead of hearing it near my rib cage like all of my past times, her heartbeat is now several inches below my belly button. Homegirl FLIPPED!

Is it a coincidence? Probably. There are numerous scientific and anatomical reasons to explain it – most babies flip between 30 and 32 weeks as their heads get heavier and they start to run out of room and amniotic fluid. In fact, 96% of babies have flipped head down by 36 weeks, so it’s certainly not a miracle…and yet, it changed everything for me.

Emotionally, I felt an overwhelming connection to her. Her and I are a team and we just did something pretty cool together. That’s something you can’t reason away with logic.

Also, my daughter is clearly a super special advanced genius since she takes instruction so well as a mere fetus. Duh.


So I get it now. The aches and pains and weight gain and every other crap-tastic third trimester symptom is something I can handle and Charlotte reminded me of that. Who knew the best pep talk would come from someone that can’t even form words yet?


Apparently actions really do speak louder than words. Thanks, kiddo.

To use an old quote from my dad, we can do these remaining weeks standing on our head…which, in your case, turns out to be quite literal.




“A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person”.

You’ll always be my person, dear.

Warning: long, ramble-y post filled with hormones ahead. Proceed with caution. 

Greetings from reality! We are back from our “babymoon” and oh-so-sad that dessert for breakfast and naps by the pool are no longer acceptable societal habits. Sigh.


Even my cankles have cankles at this point.

Although we were only on vacation for 4 days, I experienced the full spectrum of pregnancy hormone craziness brought on by the mammoth feat of having to wear a bathing suit at 30 weeks pregnant. Next babymoon? Antarctica.

In all seriousness though, body confidence during pregnancy has thrown me for a serious loop lately. I have A LOT of thoughts on the subject so I’ll do my best to put them into some sensical order, but no promises.

Prior to getting pregnant, my thoughts on my body during pregnancy were split into two camps:

1.) I want the perfectly round basketball belly while my legs and arms stay the same (HA!)

2.) I’m going to get HUGE because I know I’ll give into my cravings and why the heck not- it’s a temporary time in my life.

Here we are in the third trimester, and I’m still working to find a balance between the two.

The more I jumped into pregnant blogs and forums, as well as discussions with my fellow pregnant friends and moms, I quickly learned that many women divide themselves into these two categories as well. One of the strangest phenomenons to me is how readily ladies share their weight gain numbers- some almost wear it like a badge of honor. I’ve only gained 12 lbs so far! I lost 3 lbs first trimester, but gained 5lbs second trimester! No one asks a non-pregnant person how their weight is doing, and someone who isn’t knocked up doesn’t usually offer that information up either. So why are we so interested with it now? I thought #motherrunners were annoying. #Pregnanthumblebraggers are even worse.

I never weighed myself pre-pregnancy. I always based my weight on how my clothes fit and how I felt about myself. However, I found myself so obsessed with the numbers on the scale during 2nd trimester that I asked my midwife to stop telling me how much I’ve gained unless it becomes dangerous to me or the baby. There’s no need for me to know – especially when water retention, blood, baby’s weight, and other bodily fluids comprise such a large part of those numbers.

However, this weekend brought an onslaught of emotions on my pregnant body. A few hours after arriving to Hilton Head, I was feeling pretty darn good about myself. At Sean’s wish, I bared the belly and wore a bikini on the beach. I thought it’d make me super self-conscious, but I actually felt better in that than my frumpy, maternity suit (as good as any woman feels in a bathing suit at this stage).


I even spent part of the afternoon mentally writing out the blog post I’d do about body confidence during pregnancy and how I felt so beautiful and glowing and loved rocking the bump.

aaaaaaand then by Monday, I was a literal pool of tears as I cried while swimming because of my double-chin. I kept asking Sean to take photos of us to commemorate the occasion, only to hate each one more and more as the day wore on. My arms were too fat. My face was too round. Good god, was my butt pregnant too!?

By the afternoon, I was a mess and refused to be photographed anymore. Where had all the confidence from Saturday gone?


Now that my hormones have balanced out a bit, I realized that I fell prey to the comparison trap that we so often get caught in. Just because you’re pregnant, doesn’t mean the dangers of body-comparing stop. I need to remind myself that just because her ass didn’t get huge, doesn’t mean I should berate myself about mine. We’re different. We carry weight differently. I have always been a pear shape and will continue to be that way and so scrutinizing myself against sometime who is typically stick thin is just nonsense.

In a similar vein, I need to be a lot kinder to myself. So I don’t have the perfect basketball belly. So I’ve given into my cravings one too many times. I need to let go of the ideal I think I’m “supposed” to be and focus on being myself. My pregnant self. Sure, my face is much rounder than I’m used to. Instead of jumping down a shame spiral of how much weight I’ve gained, I should just be aware of it and move on. Maybe a little less cookie, a little more salad. An extra spin around the block. It’s not the end of the world, so I should probably stop acting like it is.

Most importantly, I need to think about the baby. Over the next 7-12 weeks (depending on how long she bakes for), she’s going to double and triple in size. She’s gaining weight and important fat storage at a rapid rate now and my body is responding to that. So it’s time to stop worrying about whether my thighs look huge in these pants and start concerning myself with being in good shape for labor and parenthood because ultimately that’s what all of this is for. The weight gain and the swelling and the mood swings are all temporary. They’ll go away soon enough and I’ll be left with an amazing little gift as a result – Miss Charlotte Colleen.



Fellow pregnant blogger, Christa from Growing Up Ginsburg, has written a few “Pregnancy Confessions” posts and I thought it was a fun idea to shamelessly steal  play along with.

Here goes nothing…

1. Sean and I absolutely loved reading Bringing up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman.


Parenting styles are different for every family, but it was really exciting to find a book that so closely mirrors what we want for our children and lifestyle. Although the author makes pretty sweeping generalizations comparing French parenting to American styles, there were some great takeaways for our family. We particularly like the idea of setting firm guidelines and limits, but allowing freedom of choice within those limits.   I have some serious concerns about the spoiled, entitled, instant-gratification-seeking, everybody wins mentality that so many children seem to be instilled with these days. The book discusses that children should experience frustration, so they can learn how to properly deal with it – which I really loved. (Sorry Charlotte, you’re going to be pissed off sometimes. I’m going to tell you no and you’ll eat whatever I’ve made for dinner. You won’t always be the center of attention in a room and unless your hair is on fire or you’ve swallowed 17 legos, I expect you to patient. #Sorrynotsorry)

I’m sure any parent reading this is probably eye-rolling at the pregnant chick trying to sound wise about parenting techniques. I know. I get it. But you have to start somewhere.

2. I’ve eaten more ice cream than I care to openly admit. 


I know you think bloggers exaggerate, but I’m not kidding. Imagine an obnoxious amount of ice cream that borders on unhealthy. Now multiply that by 7 days in a week. You’ll begin to have an idea of how much ice cream I’ve consumed so far this pregnancy.

3. I’m really looking forward to labor. Completely weird, right? Bear with me here. I really hate doing things without a specific purpose. For example, hobby jogging just isn’t my cup of tea. I need a major race that incentivizes (and scares) me enough to get off the couch and exercise. I view labor in the same vein – it’s like the ultimate marathon I’m training for here. All of these aches and pains and research and preparation are leading up to a really big and really amazing event where my mental and physical strength are going to be tested and the stubborn, competitive side of me says, “HELL YES” to that. Plus I get a real, live, adorable BABY at the end that all ours forever and ever. Way better than a race medal.

4. Pregnancy hormones are making me increasingly obsessed with Stanley. He’s just so. freaking. cute. I want to squish his face 100 times a day.


Pay no attention to the cankles. It was 96 degrees yesterday with a heat index of 101. They could not be avoided.

I think the feeling is mutual though. Lately, this boy cannot get enough cuddle time with me. I won’t complain.

5. I hate telling people my due date. The resulting response is always split into two camps: ohhhh you have so much further to go  (while side-eyeing my bulging stomach) or oh really? I thought it was sooner (also while side-eyeing my bulging stomach). I’d like to blame TV and movies for this phenomenon. It’s like the majority of the general population has never seen what a “normal” 9 month pregnant lady looks like, so everything else is either too small or too big. I’m average, goddamnit. Stop telling me that this baby will be “really healthy, my! my!” when I tell you my due date. You basically just called my fetus fat. How kind.

6. I don’t want a diaper bag. I think most of them are dumb and really ugly. Especially the Petunia Pickle Bottom brand. I’ll probably use a tote bag for most of our daily activities.

7. Fine. Real confession: I’m probably going to buy myself a new bag and pass it off as a “baby bag”…as in, I’m growing and pushing out a baby, so I’m getting myself a new bag.

Angelina Jolie, Pax Thien

If Angelina can handle her entire brood with it, then I probably can too, right? Since our lives are so similar and all…

Well, I think we’re done here.

Now you know that I’m a materialistic, ice-cream binger with an unhealthy attachment to my dog and the goal to squelch my future child’s “spirit” through oppressive French parenting techniques. You learn something new everyday, eh?

Sorry, baby – it’s been 5 weeks since my last update. I’m terrible at remembering to do these. I promise I’ll remember the important stuff like feeding you and taking you out of the car on hot days. 

How far along? 29 weeks!

How big is baby? the size of a butternut squash – my favorite vegetable.

Total weight gain/loss: We’ve officially entered the “fat face portion” of pregnancy and I’m less than pleased. This double chin can suck it. Sean has been very sweet in dealing with my freak outs over it though. He reminds me that I’m not fat, I’m pregnant and there’s a big difference.


Workouts for the week: Does getting off the couch count as a workout? Aiming for 4 45-60min walks/week, but every walk ends with some serious pelvic and round ligament pain so we’ll see how long I can continue.

Maternity clothes? I’m so freaking happy that Labor Day has come and gone and I can fully embrace my fall wardrobe. I really hate the “tent” look some of the flowy dresses and tops give, who wants to look bigger when they already feel like a whale? I’m all about a fitted shirt with cardigans, sweaters, and scarves. I splurged on 2 pairs of premium denim back in first trimester, and I’m so happy I did. I feel slightly more like myself when I’m able to wear them. Let’s not discuss the ballet flat situation, however…holy swollen feet.

Sleep: What’s that? I’m convinced 3rd trimester is like baby boot-camp and is slowly preparing my body for the mental and physical anguish of sleep deprivation. I’ve been getting awful restless leg syndrome at night, so that coupled with back aches and the constant need to pee leaves me sleeping in 1-2 hour increments. I’m a realllllll gem in the mornings, let me tell you.


Best moment this week: Getting Charlotte’s first pair of Christmas pajamas. With a reindeer on the butt. I may have died and gone to baby clothes heaven.


Movement: I’m fairly certain my body has been invaded by an alien. The little kicks and punches of the past have been replaced by full belly rolls that are slightly uncomfortable and incredibly creepy to watch. She also has moments during the day where she goes completely insane. It’s like she stores up all her energy and then goes buck wild in there for a few minutes.


I can start to make out body parts now, so my new favorite game is freaking Sean out by making him touch my stomach and telling him, “that’s her head!” “that’s her butt!”. Ahhhh, the lame games pregnant people play.

Food cravings: SUGAR. It’s out of control. The first step is admitting it though, right?

Food Aversions: I wish I had some. Instead, I find myself constantly hungry. As my stomach runs out of room, I’m fuller much quicker so my portions are smaller but I’m eating twice as often to compensate. It’s basically a steady stream of food all. day. long.


Gender: Still a girl at our last appointment. WHEW.

Labor Signs: Nooooooo.

Pregnancy Symptoms: Isn’t this entire post just one giant whiny bitch fest about my pregnancy symptoms lately?

What I miss: my sanity. Approaching the 30 week mark has set me on a whole new level of crazy, baby-prep. I can’t believe she could be here as soon as 9 weeks from now. GAH!

What I am looking forward to: BABYMOOOOOOON! Sean and I are off to Hilton Head on Saturday to spend the weekend with my family and then headed to Savannah for our last adventure as a twosome.

Upcoming appointments/events: September 20th – regular appointment. Can’t believe I’ll be every 2 weeks from now on!

Milestones: I’m taking every week as a milestone at this point. Keep gaining weight and growing, kiddo!

Obligatory Bump Photos: Major FAIL on the chalkboard front, so here’s a temporary stand-in that I took this weekend. Comparing it to a photo from first trimester is equal parts amazing and depressing. Don’t get me wrong – I am blessed and proud of the fact that I’m growing a human in there…but holy hell, I promise I’ll never complain about “being fat” again.