“Daaaaaaaaaavid,” I called out mid-pant. And as he came running, I saw the inexplicable terror on his face shift to that of amusement as he watched me hunched forward in a futile effort to tie my own shoelace. “Can you tie my shoe?” I said with heavy breath grasping my lungs. Because this, my friends, is the third trimester. And when you get there, you’ll know it.
You’ll know it because you’ll glare at a flight of stairs with dread in your limbs as you muster up your rallying cry. And then you’ll take to those stairs as you hum the Rocky theme song through your breathless lips. Dun-na-na, Dun-na-na. And it’ll drive you forward using every last ounce of energy you have to give.
You’ll know because you’ll skillfully try to maneuver through the awkward words in an attempt to keep your integrity intact while asking questions during your doctor appointments.
You’ll know because your husband will stare down at your feet and giggle during Mass. And your nickname will soon become “Chester Cheeto” as he remarks at how your swollen, red toes look like a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos.
You’ll know because the word, “ouch” will suddenly make its way into your daily vocabulary. Hip pain! Pelvic pain! Back pain! Oh, my!
You’ll know because your heart will beat wildly at the thought of your entry into this world.
Can’t wait to meet you, Judah James Calavitta!