Third Trimester — How Partners Can Prepare

The third trimester is when pregnancy becomes physically relentless. The baby weighs 3-7 pounds and is pressing on her bladder (bathroom trips every hour), her diaphragm (shortness of breath), her stomach (acid reflux), and her lower back (constant pain). Her center of gravity has shifted, making every movement — getting up from a chair, rolling over in bed, bending to tie her shoes — effortful and uncomfortable.

Sleep becomes nearly impossible. She can't lie on her back (the uterus compresses a major vein, causing dizziness and reduced blood flow to the baby). She can't lie on her stomach. Side sleeping with a pillow fortress is the only option, and even that involves waking up every 1-2 hours to pee, adjust, or deal with leg cramps. Restless leg syndrome affects up to 26% of pregnant women and typically peaks in the third trimester.

Swelling is normal — her blood volume has increased by 40-50% and her body is retaining more fluid. Mild swelling in feet, ankles, and hands is expected, especially at the end of the day. However, sudden severe swelling, especially in the face, paired with a headache or visual changes, is a warning sign of preeclampsia and needs immediate medical attention.

She may also experience Braxton Hicks contractions — irregular tightening of the uterus that serves as "practice" for labor. These are uncomfortable but not dangerous. They become more frequent in the weeks leading up to delivery.

Here's the reality: there's no fixing this. You can't take the discomfort away. What you can do is reduce every other burden so that her only job is growing this baby.

The nesting instinct is real — and it shouldn't only be hers. By week 34-36, the major logistics should be handled so that if the baby comes early (5-10% arrive before 37 weeks), you're not scrambling.

The hospital bag should be packed by week 36. Hers needs: comfortable going-home clothes, toiletries, a robe or nursing-friendly pajamas, phone charger, snacks, and whatever comfort items she wants (pillow from home, a playlist, lip balm — labor rooms are dry). The baby needs: a going-home outfit, a car seat (installed and inspected — many fire stations do free checks), and a receiving blanket. Yours: a change of clothes, snacks, phone charger, cash for vending machines, and a small pillow (you may be there for 24+ hours).

The car seat must be installed before you go to the hospital. Hospitals will not discharge a baby without a properly installed car seat. Practice installing and uninstalling it before she's in labor — fumbling with a car seat while sleep-deprived and adrenaline-soaked is not fun.

At home: the baby's sleep space should be set up (bassinet or crib, firm mattress, no loose bedding — AAP safe sleep guidelines). Stock the freezer with meals — homemade or store-bought, doesn't matter. Buy postpartum supplies for her: heavy pads, a peri bottle, comfortable underwear, nipple cream if she's planning to breastfeed, stool softeners.

Create a communication plan: who gets called when labor starts, who's watching pets or other kids, who's on deck to help after you come home. A Google Doc or shared note works. The less you need to figure out during labor, the more present you can be.

Fear of labor is universal and entirely rational. She's facing the most physically intense experience of her life, and no amount of preparation removes the uncertainty: How much will it hurt? Will something go wrong? Will she need a C-section? Will the baby be okay? These questions don't have reassuring pre-answers.

The worst thing you can do is minimize it. "Women have been doing this for thousands of years" is technically true and emotionally useless. So is "You'll be fine" or "Don't worry about it." These phrases shut down the conversation she needs to have.

Instead, engage with her fears directly. Ask: "What specifically are you most worried about?" Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's losing control, maybe it's a specific complication she read about. When you understand the specific fear, you can help address it — by talking to the provider about pain management options, by taking a childbirth education class together, by making sure her birth plan includes the things that matter most to her.

Take a childbirth class together if you haven't already. Not because you'll remember every breathing technique when the moment comes, but because understanding the stages of labor, what medical interventions look like, and what "normal" delivery involves reduces fear for both of you. You're less likely to panic when you know what's happening.

Validate her fear and share your own. "I'm nervous too" isn't weakness — it's connection. Facing something hard together is different from facing it alone while your partner pretends everything is casual.

The idea of the partner as a "labor coach" is outdated and creates unrealistic expectations. You're not a coach — you're a support person. The medical team handles the medical decisions. She does the physical work. Your job is to be her advocate, her comfort, and her calm.

Here's what that looks like practically. Before labor: know her birth preferences. Does she want an epidural? Is she hoping to try unmedicated first? What are her feelings about induction, Pitocin, C-section? These aren't your decisions, but you need to know her wishes because there may be moments when she can't articulate them and the medical team is asking questions.

During early labor (which can last hours to days): keep her comfortable at home as long as possible. Time contractions (there are apps for this). Help her eat, hydrate, take a shower, and rest between contractions. Call the hospital when contractions are 5-1-1: five minutes apart, lasting one minute each, for at least one hour.

During active labor: be physically present. Hold her hand. Apply counter-pressure to her lower back during contractions. Help her change positions. Wipe her forehead. Give her ice chips. Tell her she's doing an incredible job. Keep the room quiet and calm. Be a buffer between her and anything that isn't immediately necessary.

During delivery: follow her lead and the medical team's instructions. If she's pushing, encourage her. If she's having a C-section, stay by her head and talk to her. When the baby arrives, your job is to be present and absorb the moment. There will be time for photos — first, just be there.

The last 4-6 weeks of pregnancy are an emotional pressure cooker for both of you. She's physically at her limit. The baby could come any day. Every plan you've made feels simultaneously urgent and insufficient. There's an ambient anxiety that's hard to articulate — the life you've known as a couple is about to change permanently, and there's no going back.

She might be nesting frantically — reorganizing the nursery at 11 PM, washing baby clothes for the third time, needing everything to be "ready" in a way that feels compulsive. This is hormonally driven and actually beneficial — it's her body and brain preparing for the baby. Support it. Help her. Don't question why the onesies need to be refolded.

She might also swing between excitement and terror, sometimes in the same sentence. "I can't wait to meet this baby" followed by "I'm not ready for my life to change." This isn't indecision — it's the honest complexity of becoming a parent. Hold both truths. You probably feel them too.

Don't forget about yourself in all of this. Partner anxiety in the third trimester is real and underreported. You're about to be responsible for a tiny human. Your relationship is changing. Your financial situation is changing. Your sleep is about to be destroyed. It's okay to be scared.

Find one person — a friend, a family member, a therapist — you can be completely honest with. Not about how she's doing, but about how you're doing. Partners who have an emotional outlet are better support people. Taking care of yourself isn't selfish; it's strategic.