Oh the Joys of the 3rd trimester

“Oh its ok you’re pregnant” and other annoying things people that happen in your 3rd trimester…

Maybe it’s the third trimester crankiness, but my patience with things and people has become thin. I’m 39 weeks and, if everything goes to plan, Baby Boy will be making his appearance this week. During this time I find myself slowly accumulating a list of things that I ain’t got no time for anymore.

1: Helicopters

Now I’m not talking about the vehicles, but  the people. I know its well intentioned, but there is a fine line between concern and potential stage 5 clinging.

Solution? I created a closed group on facebook for close friends and family where I post baby updates and general house hold updates to appease people’s curiosity. It serves two purposes: it will replace the phone tree so no one gets forgotten when the baby arrives as well as when we are accepting visitors; and, it will save our other facebook peeps from the all too familiar “We just had a baby, and here are a million and one posts about things they might otherwise not care about.” Like, for example, the daily updates some new moms like to put on their facebook. I get it you had a baby I’m happy for you but you don’t need to post about their first sneeze etc.

2: Random Jobs

The other thing I have done have given people random jobs so they feel like they have a purpose and also I’m too lazy or scatter brained to do, and others I have taken more of a hands on approach.

For example: I am now up to my weekly appointments and I have invited my mother to come to the appointments and wait in the waiting room for updates (because lets be real no one wants their mom in the room when their OB sticks their fingers in your hoo-ha) to control her nervous energy that she wont admit she has.

Now, now y’all might think I’m overreacting, but let me tell you a story.

Let me take you back in time to Memorial Day weekend. That Thursday my mom asked me what I was doing for the long weekend I told her that me and my GBF (Gay Best Friend) were probably going to relax at my place and sleep through the heat. It was hot and humid that weekend and I am too preggo right now to be messing around with the outdoors.

Well after returning from a ice cream run, me and my GBF found ourselves on the couch comatose, after attempting to Netflix. During this nap my mother had called and texted both of us. I wake up because Baby Boy has decided it was time for me to pee, which in turn woke up my GBF. I go pee; when I come back down he informs me that she has called and that I might want to call her because she sounds stressed. Mind you I had texted her that morning to inform her that I had nothing planned that day and was probably just going to hang out at home.

So, I go and grab my phone and notice I had received a text message and a voicemail from her. I check the voicemail which goes something a little like this.

“Netty, I’m calling you because I have texted and you haven’t responded and I have also called and texted your GBF and he hasn’t responded. You know you’re in your 3rd trimester and you need to answer the phone when I call you.”

Now let me tell you something, ladies and gentlemen: I love my mother to the moon and back. But it doesn’t matter who you are that was a little too much attitude for me to process just waking up and ain’t nobody gonna tell me what I need to be doing when I’m trying to take a nap, because Lord knows my sleep is all types of jacked u due to my 6lb visitor that I’m sharing my body with. Now I call her back and I inform her that I was taking a nap, and also that in no uncertain terms that she should be calling me that keyed up.

I get it she is just concerned and it her first grandchild yadda yadda, but mom comes to every weekly appointment to sit in the waiting room and gets immediate updates, and she’s in contact with everyone.

But wait, there is more.

So later that night I was relaying the story to my husband who is currently out on a job on a oil rig in the middle of the ocean. The man was in the middle of the ocean off the Gulf Coast, and he informs me that he received two messages from her inquiring about why I wasn’t answering my phone.

I was also phone with my father the next day because apparently she had called him to ask him if he knew why I wasn’t picking up my phone, mind you my parents aren’t currently on speaking terms.

That very same Monday I had called my bestie who lives down the street just to check in on her and her troop of kids. During the conversation she asked if my mom was alright because she had called her twice on Sunday but she missed the call because she was dealing with the kids.

So in conclusion, ain’t nobody having no babies without remembering to call her to tell her that her first grandchild is about to make his arrival so she doesn’t need to be so keyed up all the damn time.

3: Due date suggestions.

I get everyone is excited. I mean I’ve been carrying him for the past 39 weeks, so you know I’m ready. It will be so nice to wear my normal clothes again, sneeze without peeing. But lets be real here, the boy is gonna come when he’s ready or if they induce. So telling me things like “he should hold off till this day because its my birthday,” or “he’ll come on this day because then I’m free and don’t have to cancel my previous plans,” isn’t really productive because it’s not like I can do anything about it.

Look, at this point I’m merely a vehicle and have little control over the actual date, and since I’m trying to go natural with an epidural of course (momma doesn’t handle pain well), date suggestions don’t really do much. I mean one or 2 were cute, but I’m at the point where about every other person has some date suggestion like I can be all, that sounds good and pop him out then. How about we just sit and wait and be excited when he shows up?

4: Asking me if I’m ready?

As I have said in my previous post, nothing causes more people to be intrusive than a pregnant belly. I have heard the when are you due question for damn near 9 months and now it evolved to “Oh my are you ready.” I have another question: Does it really matter? Baby boy is coming if I’m ready or not. It’s not like he’s sitting in there like “Oh snap you forgot to get a diaper bag? Welp I better wait till you find the perfect one. Oh you’re not that excited? Better hold off till you’re about to explode with excitement.” He will come when he is good and ready and doesn’t give a damn how I feel about it.

5: Last but not least, the excuses.

For some reason people seem to think because I’m pregnant it allows me to walk out the house looking a hot mess. Like “oh you haven’t brushed your hair today, its cool you’re pregnant go out in public.” So because I’m having a baby I don’t have to keep myself up and take pride in my appearance? If I weren’t having a baby y’all would talk about me waking out the house looking like a whole bunch of just stop it. People do the same thing when you’re a mom. I get it shit happens: kids mess your clothes up, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t attempt to have some sort of standard when going out in public. I mean Wal-Mart wear is one thing for the 2am run to the store for cough syrup; but, Just cause I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to walk out my house looking like I have given up. Nor do you have to try and make excuses for me because I am pregnant. I can make excuses for myself thank you. I’m not an invalid and I’m just preggo.

Look I’m just trying to ride this thing out and meet my little guy with as less stress as possible, and I swear it’s a challenge, but y’all don’t have to make it harder. Just let me live and push this boy out, okay?