Too much? A preggo’s confession on overextending

We’re less than two months from baby’s due date. 52 days to go, to be exact.

There’s been no hiding my burgeoning belly for months, but in the past few days I’ve really started to feel my limitations.

I’m tired guys. More than tired. I’m exhausted.

To be fair, I totally overextended myself this past weekend. Saturday included a gaggle of errands followed by a strength training session at Baby Bump Academy, a local gym for expectant and new mamas.


Saturday’s WOD

The workout was fabulous, and I felt more like myself than I had all week. But I followed it up with a cooking session before Jo and I headed to an outdoor wedding.

Surprisingly, I felt fine all day. I didn’t tire out, drank loads of water and enjoyed all the experiences (including repeatedly sniffing my hubby’s gin and tonic after the nuptials.)

Jo and Vic at a summer wedding

Jo and Vic at a summer wedding

The next morning, I was up bright and early as I volunteered at a local 5K, one organized by my friend Jo. Upon arrival, Jo greeted baby boy first, a move that both surprised me and brought a smile.

“Get used to people ignoring you for him!” she said with a laugh. The race was a whirlwind, and a joy to be a part of. (Next year, I run!)


Jo at the start of the Pride 5K

Fast forward several hours – past a lengthy brunch outing with my hubby’s college friends. I was done. I wanted nothing more than to sleep.  But I had laundry to do, and food prep and chores and….

Yeah. I was wiped.

That’s the biggest difference I noticed as I’ve surpassed 30 weeks of pregnancy. I grow tired far more easily. I repeatedly try to do too much and then I crash.

I spent Monday d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g. Tuesday wasn’t much better.

I understand that this is the way it goes, and I do my best to cope by resting after work most days and drinking glass after glass of water. But yeah, I can’t pack in the activities like I used to. I can’t do as much as I’d like. And we already know I can’t lift things as I once could.  Even a few weekends ago, when I celebrated baby boy with friends and family in Pennsylvania and Kyle’s engagement, I was wiped after 4 straight days of activity.

I’m not complaining as I feel so blessed to be in these shoes after my last few months. But boy, growing a baby is hard, tiring work. And while I love how his constant kicking keeps me company when I can’t sleep, my expanding body is getting cumbersome and uncomfortable.

In my first trimester, I was queasy and tired. I mainly laid low and rested outside work.

In my second trimester, my energy soared. The queasiness subsided and I was on a mission. I was incredibly active, between regular walks, hikes, yoga and trying new activities like Pilates.

Then the third trimester – and the summer heat – hit me like a truck. Yeah. reality check.  Did I mention that we don’t have central air? Yeahhhh.

But that’s ok. Baby boy will be here soon enough, and we’ll enjoy the crisp fall weather together.

Any tips for a third trimester mama with 7 weeks to go? Share in the comments!

Back to Life, Back to Reality

I’ve been living in a cocoon for the past three and a half months. A cozy little world with me and Bug and sometimes Mister Jess, if we let him in (we usually do). All of that will be changing come Monday, however. I’ll be breaking out of my self-imposed swaddle* and getting back into the swing of things.

Namely, work. Real life. The grind, if you will.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about this day, but in those first few weeks, April 1st seemed like a lifetime away. I was knee-deep in onesies, pacifiers, and diapers, with a newborn barnacled to my boob. I wasn’t thinking about work or “real life.” I definitely wasn’t thinking about running or any kind of me time. I was thinking about surviving. I was thinking about that elusive thing called sleep. I was thinking, “this shit is hard!”

The past few weeks I’ve been mentally preparing myself to get back to it all, though. I’m thinking about how on Monday, I’ll have to give Bug to his caregiver and walk away from him. How I’ll have to go to work and start critically thinking again and conversing with adults. A novel concept, considering I’ve been either talking to my baby or talking about my baby since he was born in December. What are these multi-syllabic words? 

I’ve also been thinking about how easy it is to settle into a new routine, and how hard it is to break away from it, especially when that “routine” is a living, breathing human who is growing and getting more fascinating by the day. I’ve been struggling with how to feel about getting back to “real life,” because this part of my life, the little cocoon, has been very, very real.

But when I found myself staring wistfully at runners as they passed us by during a trip to Crissy Field this week, I realized that running is a part of that real life. And that all of it – working, running, being a person independent of my son – is something I need to get back to. Running clears my mind. It lets me focus on becoming stronger, better. That time is mine alone, and if you have kids, you know how important that time is. You savor it. I know that it will be even more important to me now than it was before. Like Brooke said in her last post, if mama’s happy, everybody’s happy.

Part of me is sad maternity leave is ending. Part of me is scared. And part of me is excited to get back to some of the other things that fulfill me and make me a healthy, well-rounded chick.

And so although I’ve willingly – gladly – given up a piece of myself to my son (and basically my entire heart. Sorry, Mister Jess), I’m looking forward to taking back a piece for me. It’s time to get back on the road.

Hit the road, Jess.

Hit the road, Jess.

Working parents, how do you find a balance between kid time and healthy-you time? Give me some tips in the comments! 

*All credit for this sentence goes to Meri, who came up with the brilliant phrase “breaking out of your swaddle.” Baby jokes, haha!