How time flies

I am in my third trimester. Today I am 27 weeks and two days pregnant. I can hardly believe it. This pregnancy has just flown by. Perhaps because I spent the first half positive something would go wrong and not wanting to get too attached. Then the last couple months have been filled with kids, work, home, and all the other things that make up your day.

When I was pregnant with Q, that fact pretty much consumed my reality. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I spent my days reading week-by-week descriptions online and researching the best Pac n' Play.

This time we have everything (except for a wardrobe of pink things). I know what to expect for the most part, though you really don't ever know what will happen. I am just too busy to think much about it.

I do try to slow down and savor the inner drumming of tiny baby feet and the look of folded pink onesies in the dresser drawer. There is a good chance this will be our last baby, and I want to enjoy the good parts of pregnancy.

Right now the bad parts are the most prominent. I bought a maternity swimsuit yesterday for our upcoming beach vacation. That is a humbling experience. I tried to get one that was somewhat fitted because those billowy swim dress things are just too depressing. My maternity clothes that were still loose at the end of my first pregnancy are already getting tight with three months to go. And my Braxton-Hicks contractions are ridiculous. I have them every couple minutes. Though they are not usually painful, they turn my belly into a basketball-sized rock making it difficult to tie my shoes or even put on my seat belt.

I get these contractions early and often in every pregnancy. I guess it is within the realm of normalcy. They are considered "practice contractions," but why does my uterus have to practice so damn much? Haven't we been through this twice before?

So life continues at a frenetic pace. We are trying to decide whether we should buy a house (though we still own our old one unfortunately). If we do buy, when should we move? Should we stay in our crappy, rented townhouse longer though the neighbors are unbearable and the commute is about to drive me over the edge? Should we try to short sell our other house?

There's just too much too think about. But by this time next week we will be basking on the beach joined by 40 of my family members. I am picturing reading and relaxation, but the reality will probably be sand in diapers, sunburned bellies, and tantrums at the airport.

--MM