That Thing She Does.
Mood:  lazy
Topic: Pregnancy
What is it babies start doing in utero in the third trimester that feels like they are digging their heads into your cervix? (Or, as Jim Morrison mused in the lyrics to Love Street: I wonder what they do in there.) I just now asked a coworker who is pregnant with her second child, and she didn't know what I was talking about. Don't all fetuses do that? Who knows? The only phenomena as subjective as pregnancy are love and marriage.

Subjective or not, my three youngest all mastered the third-trimester trick of making me believe at times, through intense pressure, that they were preparing to burst right out into the world and sing an aria at my feet. Julia Crumpacker, at your cervix.

It's going to be a long 12-13 weeks. Somehow, my old mantra, It's okay -- this is my last baby, seems less magical the second time around. Still, and despite the kvetching, I'm savoring this time of carrying my second daughter around inside me. It's so short, and they're so much less manageable once they're on the outside.