So as of today, I’m 27 wks pregnant with number 3, and have entered the third trimester! I am thrilled about this. Thrilled to be almost done. Thrilled to only have… 13 weeks left. Oh crap.
Pregnancy is so long that any time you feel like you’ve gotten somewhere, you just have to look at it from the “time remaining” vantage point to realize that you still have oceans of time before you. 13 weeks? That’s enough time to write a freaking novel or train for a marathon. And I have already been at this since JANUARY.
On the other hand, I am in no hurry. As an BTDT (“been there done that”) mom, I know that no matter how much of a pain in the ass pregnancy is, this baby is most certainly easier in than it’s going to be out. And I’m not really ready for three kids. Really, I’m not. I need every day I have left of these 13 weeks. 91 days.
Hmm. 91 days. When I think of it that way, all of a sudden, it feels too short. Only 91 days left to sleep through the night? Not that I am, but at least it’s a possibility. Only 91 days of having a mere two children to get in their car seats and hoist into their beds. Only 91 days left to get this blog going before I don’t even have time to brush my hair. I will look back on these as halcyon days.
So maybe an interminable 40 week pregnancy is exactly the right length. Any longer, and the race would die out. Any shorter, and we’d say, “I need more time!” This way, at 40 weeks, you’re at that perfectly fed-up stage where you welcome labor, delivery, and sleeping in 90-minute snatches, as long as you don’t have to have an anvil in your stomach anymore.