The beginning of the end.

Saturday marked my 28th week of pregnancy. It also marked the beginning of my third and final trimester.

It’s scary to think how quickly all of this went by. It seems like just yesterday I was sitting in the bathroom looking at a peed on stick watching the second line appear with lightning speed. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I had this huge pit in my stomach and my heart was racing at 100 mph. As the line was forming, my mind with coming to terms with the reality that my life was about to change forever.  I am pregnant.

My first tri-mester was miserable. I had all day/night morning sickness for 3 months. I couldn’t eat. I lost weight. My “pregnancy glow” was actually sweat from trying to keep the ever-present feeling of vomit in my throat from jumping out of my mouth at any given moment. My first tri-mester is where I accepted that I was pregnant. At some point in time, my terror switched to excitement. I was never the mommy type. In fact, I strongly declared from my pre-teen stage to early adulthood, that I would have nothing to do with those “germ-infested-snot-monsters” and that I would be perfectly happy being a super cool aunt, who could give the kid back to the parent, once it pooped or started crying. But now, that germ-infested-snot-monster was going to be mine. I am growing one all my own.One, who will make me so sleep-deprived the mental ward will look like a vacation spot, whose snotty nose and poopy diapers will take over my life, but this little human will be mine. I will love him and he will love me unconditionally. He is a part of me. This sunk in during my first tri-mester.

My second-trimester flew by in a breeze. It was easy. Yes, I was tired and exhausted, but compared to the first few weeks, it felt like I could run a marathon. I began to feel his little movements and kicks. I saw his little human features in an ultrasound. We picked his name, Ethan Gabriel Runge. I registered for my baby shower. I ate endless amounts of ice-cream and enjoyed my food. After weeks of eating toast, I could enjoy the taste of food again. My second tri-mester, I fell in love with my baby.


Saturday marked the beginning of the end. I only have 12 short weeks until my little gift is here. My third tri-mester, I will bond with little Ethan. I’ll get to know his personality and his sleeping habits. We’ll get to get ready for his arrival, I’ll blow up like a balloon and in the blink of an eye, the little human that I am growing, will be in my arms.


This is the beginning of the end of my pregnancy journey. But as this door closes, the one that opens will make me a new person. Ethan’s birthday, will also be my birthday. I will birth a baby, and he will make me his mom.




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