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April 12, 2020
The first 7 months of pregnancy flew by surprisingly fast, despite the constant worry I felt. There was so much to distract me and keep me busy, I felt like every week was over in the blink of an eye.
I know during the third trimester, time always feels like it’s moving slower as sleep gets worse and the baby is kicking in painful ways, but add being quarantined at home and it feels like every week is 70 weeks. 10 weeks per day that goes by.
It certainly doesn’t help that I’ve been a wave of emotions since all of this began. I feel like every week, or even every day, there is a new battle to face or another stressful situation to deal with. At first, it was just the basic things. I was heartbroken about my cancelled baby shower and have been beyond stressed about getting the nursery together; especially since we can’t find the screws for our son’s old crib and while the manufacturer normally sends replacement ones free of charge, they informed us we have to try calling in three months because they can’t ship them due to COVID-19. Almost every baby item on my registry is also at risk of not arriving for over a month because they’re not deemed essential enough or every other parent-to-be is also shopping online in the same panic making the items temporarily unavailable. I have to check daily to see if certain items are back in stock for a blink of an eye. It’s times like these that I really wish the mice we had last year in our garage didn’t destroy our stored baby items and leave us with a pricier and longer-than-expected shopping list. I had hoped for some baby shower gifts but more than that, I just expected I’d be pacing out these purchases as well with usual two day Amazon shipping or a maximum of one week from Target, rather than having to spend a lot in one go just to make sure everything is here in time.
As I finally started to make peace with my pregnancy never getting a celebratory moment, I went to the doctor for my gestational diabetes test. As luck would have it (or at least my luck during this crisis!), I failed the first test by a few points. Actually, by some doctors thresholds, I also would’ve passed, but not at my doctors office. They called and informed me I’d have to now fast for an evening and breakfast, come in, and get my blood drawn four times over the course of three hours. Obviously this sounded like a great plan since I’m also anemic, fasting makes me faint and hypoglycemic, blood tests sometimes make me faint, Gwith wouldn’t be able to join me (so good luck to me if I did faint!), and due to COVID-19, sitting in a clinic (where only every other chair is marked as off limits for social distancing) for three hours doesn’t sound the safest. After agonizing for days over the situation, I decided not to go to the test and self-monitor at home. I’m in the process of self-monitoring still but all seems well and I finally yesterday breathed a sigh of relief.
I don’t know why I jinxed myself like that. Throughout the day, my husband was noticing the tile floor in our laundry room and downstairs bathroom was oddly hot in some places. So just to be sure there wasn’t a problem, he called our plumber. We got the excellent news that our hot water heater is leaking under the house, we have to shut it off (no showers until it’s fixed!), and there’s a chance they’ll have to rip up the floor with a jackhammer to fix it. Obviously this is exactly what you want to hear at 32 weeks pregnant, stuck in your house, and when you’re not supposed to have anyone else in your home. Last night, Gwith and I were literally sitting at the kitchen table, trying to brainstorm how to tape off that part of the house to make sure we have no contact with the workers. This morning I also woke up with the fun realization that our only downstairs bathroom may be part of this, and therefore every time I’m downstairs and our little girl sits on my bladder, I’m going to have to somehow get upstairs. I say somehow because when she does this, I tend to be hunched over in absolute agony while on the walk to the bathroom. This only happens every hour or so throughout the day. I couldn’t have imagined a more fun and exciting way to spend my third trimester! Quarantining with construction noises, no showers, and no downstairs bathroom. I was really hoping that the only broken water in the next couple of months would be mine, but apparently that’s not the case!
Meanwhile, our son is going crazy without his friends and being stuck at home. He’s endlessly running in circles and talking non-stop. He’s an extrovert and this is far from ideal for his energetic, 4 year old self. As the weeks have gone by, he’s been acting out more. Defying us regularly, tuning us out. Pretty much acting like a teenager. I feel so badly because there’s not much I can do and I understand his frustration. I’m frustrated too. We’re all frustrated. It certainly doesn’t help that I’m not able to play with him as much because I’ve been so tired and in so much pain this pregnancy. As our girl is moving more and more, she’s now digging into my hip bone and kicking the dislocated ribs I’ve had since my pregnancy with Bailey.
I wish there was an end in sight for this situation. Bailey’s been asking about going to his friends houses, telling me he misses school, talking about the activities he wants to do. Almost every day I have to explain to him why he can’t go anywhere and it breaks my heart every time.
I hope things begin to change by the time I’m due to give birth. Two months to go and a lot could happen. Whether it’s better or worse remains to be seen. I’m so grateful we’re all physically healthy throughout this pandemic and staying safe. Mentally, I wish I could say the same. We’re getting by one day at a time and I just have to keep my chin up as we crawl slowly through the days.
Read Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven