Third trimester, here we are. Aside from being exhausted in the first trimester, it’s been pretty easy and rewarding to be pregnant – much easier than I guessed it would be.
As you know, in January of 2018 we suffered an early second trimester missed miscarriage of twins. I had to have an emergency surgical abortion, and in the months that followed I continued to suffer in a way that let my business slip behind the progress I’d made in 2016 and 2017, and I also lost the will to be careful about my eating and exercise, gaining about fifteen pounds in the first half of the year.
In August, I took a vacation with some feminist photographer friends to Colorado where we ran around the woods creating photo shoots of real queer couples, making magic with our cameras, getting ridiculously high in the hot tub (it’s legal!), and I posed for a totally nude photo shoot that left me feeling like a smoking hot goddess. (There’s a photo from this shoot in Becca Murray’s boudoir portfolio; I’m in the woods, in the headband and yellow earrings.) I got home determined to get myself right back on track… and immediately got pregnant again.
I was happy about the pregnancy, but had no hopes for maintaining any sort of of momentum with my newfound resolve to take care of myself, especially when afternoon naps became mandatory in those first twelve weeks, but I found that, eventually, exercise made me feel better, eating anything sweeter than a piece of fruit made me feel awful, and that super healthful meals balanced with protein and carbs were calling my name. (Also so, so many roasted yams.) My drink of choice is water, and I’ve been nailing getting plenty thanks to my awesome water bottle. My already pretty good skin has never looked better.
Basically, I’m in the best shape of my life, with a long, round, oval tummy. I feel completely amazing. And, because I started losing the weight I’d gained, I’m here in the third trimester without having gained a pound. I asked my midwives in alarm if that was okay, and they said it was fine given my history. So hey, I’ll take it, especially because I can fit into most of my pre-pregnancy dresses, and all of my blouses, still.
I spent a really long time being scared of being pregnant, but, aside from some random aches in my hips (because, yall, my hatred of yoga burns ever strong) this is the best thing that ever happened to me, physically.
It’s still practically unfathomable that there will be a little baby here in a few months. I can’t quite bring myself to acknowledge the personhood of this kid quite yet, so it feels like I’m preparing for a space alien to come visit. One that gets hiccups in the middle of the night, and occasionally twerks at inappropriate times.