If you’re new at being pregnant—if this is, for instance, only your sixth or seventh child—you probably know how many weeks along you are. Heck, you will be able to recite exactly which fetal neurodendrons are likely being formed at this moment, and can calculate to the minute how far away your due date is.
If this is, however, your ninth pregnancy or beyond, you are probably too busy to take anything but the long view. All you can really be sure about is whether or not your water has broken yet. Not yet? Okay, then you gotta make supper again, darn it.
For those of us who have long ago abandoned our manuals and our pregnancy journals, here are some helpful tips for identifying whether you are in the third trimester:
1. Being pregnant is all you can think about. Say, for instance, that you’ve agreed to write three posts a week about Catholic culture, politics, liturgy, spirituality, and other matters of general interest to Catholic readers. The first topic that pops into your head is, “Have you seen my FEET?” Then, rather than thinking, “Wait, that doesn’t really have anything to do with Catholicism,” you go ahead and write about it.
2. You have totally relinquished anything like a sense of personal dignity. In theory, you know that you are one of the grande dames of the domestic church, the very mirror of Our Lady, anchor of civilization and hope of the future. But in practice, your one and only goal in life is finding the next bathroom as fast as possible. There are only so many times you can walk into an exam room, find out how many elephant seals you could displace in a vat of water, and then let someone—erm, “take a look” at you in an exceptionally personal way, before it starts to take its toll on your avidity for decorum. “Hey,” you will find yourself barking at the guy in the toll booth, “Let’s speed this up! My cervix isn’t getting any thicker!” He looks at you in a weird way, and you assume this is because he has a problem.
3. You do an excellent imitation of efficiency, but are about as effective as a blindfolded duck. You make a doctor’s appointment, dream that you cancelled it, wake up and call a slightly baffled receptionist to reschedule, forget to write down the new date, notice the old date on the calendar at the “last minute,” show up ten minutes “late” in a frantic lather, and discover that you’re in the wrong building anyway. And wonder why the sheaves of “You and Your Colostomy” pamphlets in the waiting room didn’t tip you off. So as not to waste a trip, you stop at the supermarket at the way home, and then drop exhausted onto the couch, where you sleep through your real appointment, leaving four gallons of milk rotting in the sun the back of the van.
4. By 4 p.m., your aphasia is almost complete. You start out the day unable to remember nouns. By noon, verb and adjectives have fallen away. But by the time the kids come home from school, and you’re in charge of making sure they pack nutritious lunches, do their chores and homework, take showers, pick out clothes for tomorrow, and hand over all the important papers you’re responsible for as a caring parent, you’re reduced to standing in the middle of the kitchen pointing at their grinning faces and yelling, “You! That! Now, thing it! Oh, why can’t you!” Even God thinks this is funny.
5. In the immortal words of Lili Von Shtupp (Warning: link is emphatically R-rated) : Let’s face it, everything below the waist is kaput.
Comments
Post a Comment
And, that, Simcha, sums up the gift you give us with your writing:
“Even God thinks this is funny.”
So so funny! “my cervix isn’t getting any thicker” Lol! 3 and 4! I’m sure I’ve said that “sentence” myself…. you do this thing it now….Only have 5, but yep, made dinner, washed dishes, cleaned kitchen, assisted with two baths and pjs less than 2 hours before giving birth to #5 ;) Love it!
You know, I’ve never made it more than a month into any of my third trimesters and just those hints of third trimester misery made me think a cleaning lady and a cook should be part of the whole pregnancy package for women who already have kids.
Thanks for the laugh! My kids (only 5 hee hee) came running from the other room to see what was so funny.
#3 With me it was a 10 pound turkey that rotted in the trunk of the car.
I’m at 28 weeks. On Monday I forgot to take my daughter to Religious Ed. I forgot to take her brother the previous Sunday. The only reason I haven’t missed any doctor appointments yet is because I have an iPhone app that reminds me about them.
Only my second pregnancy, but I’ve been losing words. Which is great when I’m tutoring seniors in English honors. :) “What’s that word for something that’s really bad? It’s a long word that starts with ‘E’ or something.” “Evil?” “Yup, that’s it!”
Oh, heavens, I so needed this today!!! I think we’re about 2 weeks away from the next delivery and… I know I was going to say something about that, but don’t remember what it was. I called my mom 3 times yesterday to tell her something, only to forget what it was once she answered the phone. I don’t remember the kids’ names anymore, I simply gesture in the general direction of the one that needs to get ready for school and grunt something about “We’re going to be late!” to try and motivate efficiency. I had to make sure my membranes hadn’t ruptured this morning, slightly irritated that the result means I still have to prepare dinner, do laundry, and take someone to violin lessons today. (I think it’s today… What is today, anyway?)
***
Thanks for the laugh—and being able to relate, even though I’m still new at all this (baby #3). Now where is my coffee…? ;-)
Glad to have my coffee, morning prayers and Simcha laugh to start my day out. By the way #4 is the constant state I find myself in as a woman of menopause!
Unfortunately, points #3 and #4 also can be said of those of us in menopause, and it doesn’t end after 9 months.
Thank you, Simcha! My day was not going well, but now I will have something hifreakinhilarious to keep me laughing and sane for the rest of it.
Hysterical! I only have one child so far, but I found #4 to be quite a problem while teaching high school my last trimester - I constantly had to ask some poor kid in the front row what I had just been talking about two seconds before. It also happened to be one of the hottest May/June in record with no AC in a hot brick building. I think my body heat added to the temperature, it was swell! I’m beginning to see why decades ago pregnant teachers were asked to leave as soon as they started to show (married ones even, can you imagine that happening now??). I would have gladly left in my third trimester if I still could have gotten a pay check, lol!
I’ve only had the one so far and I find this hilarious and frighteningly applicable!
#5 on the way and I definitely and with all of these points, though I kind of think having talking toddlers in a public restroom will strip you of your personal dignity in a matter of minutes.
Though, I don’t try to be efficient. I actually try not to do anything but put my feet up so that they can still fit into my shoes when it is time to pick the older children up from school.
My aphasia hasn’t left and I’m 8 months post-partum.
and this is only the beginning of the destruction of gray matter. I swear, with every child, the reduction in ability to think and communicate effectively is reduced by half- which is really scary after the third of fourth….As a nurse, it’s scary to think I have been in charge of people’s lives…
Hilarious! Thank you for the laughs…and the humanity… :)
38 weeks. Just trying to take it One. Day. At. A. Time. I hear you on #1 and #4. I’m soooo tired of all the comments at work - you’re still here?? You look like you’re about to pop! Two more weeks? No way are you going two more weeks. (Yes, unless the dr. convinces me to schedule an induction, I probably will. I’ve never delivered early before.) Two weeks ago I was uncomfortable. Now I’m just downright irritiable. Thanks for making me laugh.
Oh, this brings it all back so vividly, even though my latest baby is only 11 weeks old. He decided to be 12 days late. I would have scheduled an induction sooner, but both my OBs decided to be out of town when I was at 40 weeks (WHO DOES THAT??), so I just sat around hoping either to a) go into labor on my own or b) keep the baby in until my 41 week appointment, at which time my OB looked at me and said, “Yeeeaah, how’s Friday sound for having a baby?
By that time the television was pretty much on 24/7, and my husband had abdicated complete control of the thermostat to me so the house was permanently set on “Icebox.”
Hang in there, Simcha! And may you NOT go overdue. Unless, you know, you want to. You are the pregnant lady, so whatever you say goes.
I laughed so hard I cried. Your old expresion, roughly, “The thing with the thing with the thing in it.” is in rotation in our family. It gets used whenever someone brain comes to a halt, but the mouth is still producing sound.
Thanks for sharing your gifts.
Oh my. That was funny!
I read your blog to my husband for the first time. After twelve pregnancies and eight children, we are a bit tired! But we haven’t lost our sense of humor. We both laughed heartily over your spicy You Tube link. You might incite the wrath of a few that are less tired!! Yes, God must have a sense of humor. God love you. But given some of your past posts, something tells me that you will perk up before you know it and things will be less than “kaput” in no time flat. How lucky this little one to come has a mother that can find comic relief in life!
When pregnant with kid #3 I nearly set fire to the kitchen and flooded out the finished basement twice. I’m worried what will happen if we’re blessed with #4.
My sister-in-law sent this to me and I laughed so hard I almost peed. I can say that because I am expecting #10 right now, and like you said, by the time you get to this phase, you just don’t care anymore. Thanks for the laugh - it’s great to know I am not the only crazy super-sized family mom out there. :)
Post a Comment
By submitting this form, you give The National Catholic Register permission to publish this comment. Comments will be published at our discretion, and may be edited for clarity and length. For best formatting, please limit your response to one paragraph and don't hit "enter" to force line breaks.