There are lots of things that are making these final weeks more tolerable (even enjoyable), such as my sweet and supportive husband … or the glory of afternoon naps. But this is a post about products that are making all the difference in my pregnant life right now. I thought they might be worth sharing in case you’re also waddling through the third trimester.
1) Slip-on sneakers. Comfort has long-been the reigning queen in my wardrobe, but that’s been especially true during bumphood. I think I’ve worn sneakers 98 percent of my pregnant days, but the time finally came for a pair that I could slip on without bending over, which I now avoid at all costs. (If I drop something on the floor I pause to ponder if it’s really worth picking up right then. Is it something my dog will try to eat? Am I somewhere I will likely drop something else in the near future, like my desk, so I can wait and knock out two birds with one stone, or maybe I should say groan?) Point is: Shoes you can slide your feet into are a lifesaver.
2) A support belt. This bump is getting large and in charge. It takes serious effort to haul it around, and sometimes the extra load wears on my hips and back. Ligaments are stretching, and my sciatic nerve is being pushed and prodded, which it really doesn’t like. Let’s just say it’s all very uncomfortable, and when those moments strike I reach for my support belt. I’ve found a little bit of bolstering can make all the difference.
3) A birthing ball. I never thought I’d be uncomfortable on my well-worn sofa, but it has happened. I’ve tried propping myself up with an assortment of pillows, but that only lasts so long before my body tells me it’s time to move. So, I now spend a large part of my lounging-at-home time sitting on a large rubber ball. It helps me rock and sway to ease any aches and pains. Plus, it’s higher than my sofa (i.e., way easier to get off of, particularly with the added bounce upward).
4) Belly butter. I’ll be honest. I was diligent about this rubdown ritual when my bump first started to make an appearance, but as time dragged on—and as not too many stretch marks appeared—I eased up on my moisturizing routine. Dare I say I’d even skip a night or three. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference. No new streaks were cropping up, and the meager few I had didn’t actually bother me. They were just part of the process. Plus, they were in locales no one would ever see, save for me and my husband. But for some reason, week 38 seems to be the week of stretch marks. All of a sudden, more are being invited to the party, and the party is getting a little too crowded for my liking. Basically, give me all the body butter.