So… yes. I lived in a tiny travel trailer during my third trimester. From July 10 through September 30, I was five to eight months pregnant, working full-time, and living in an R-Pod 192 with my husband, our dog Frank, and an increasingly large belly.
Why? Our house was under construction. And I mean fully torn up—thanks to a contractor we had to fire for not paying subcontractors (fun!). We didn’t really have a choice. The trailer was what we had, and we made it work.
Where We Stayed
We started out at Tucker Lake Campground. It was nice enough, but kind of in the middle of nowhere, and the gravel driveway meant shoes were non-negotiable. Far from our house, far from Chad’s work. It just didn’t feel great.
But once we moved to Bannister RV Park, everything shifted. We had a beautiful lot with big grassy space and trees full of berries behind us. Shade made a difference. Chad would lay out blankets, and we’d eat dinner picnic-style. We’d sprawl out and listen to podcasts. Frank, our fluffy grey 30-pound dog, would wander around.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it started to feel like ours.
How We Made RV Life Work – While Pregnant
Our R-Pod 192 has a surprisingly solid AC unit, which made all the difference in the thick of summer. The trailer also has a bathroom and just enough room for a queen bed, a small dinette, and a dog who thinks he’s in charge.
I was getting up 5 times a night to pee, crawling in and out of bed with carpal tunnel, tarsal tunnel, and ankles that were so swollen they were unrecognizable. Frank always chose the most inconvenient sleeping spot (seriously, I’d step on him almost every night). But somehow, we made it work.
Most meals we cooked ourselves—eggs with green peppers and onions in the morning, low-carb tortillas with turkey and cheese as a late night snack. And so much cottage cheese. I kept my giant Yeti full of LMNT hydration drinks and clung to that thing like a lifeline. The Instant Pot became my best friend. Quick meals, less heat, one pot to clean. Magic.
Some days I worked from the dinette, which had a decent little setup. On days when my ankles were especially bad, I moved to the bed with my lap desk. It was surprisingly cozy. There was no room to be fancy, but enough to get comfortable.
There’s a photo of me somewhere, sitting in bed with frozen bags of vegetables draped over my ankles. That kind of sums it up.
What I Gave Up
There was no nesting. No glider. No perfectly folded drawers of newborn onesies. Just a few bins stashed in the trailer and a crib in a box waiting back at the house.
It wasn’t the picture I had in my head—but it was fine. Baby was going to sleep in our room anyway. And in the end, she didn’t need a curated nursery. She needed us.
I decided early on I wasn’t going to stress about the stuff I couldn’t control. I had a tiny pregnancy pillow, a wedge for my swollen ankles, and good arthritis gloves. That was enough.
Letting go of the pressure to “get everything ready” gave me room to focus on what actually mattered: resting, reading, learning, and being with Chad while it was still just the two of us.
What I Gained
Time.
Less laundry. Less cleaning. No to-do list. Zero pressure to do anything beyond the basics. I read a ton of baby books. Chad read a few, too. We took online lactation classes together. Baby care classes. We’d sit side by side at night and scroll through names, articles, and gear checklists we weren’t going to follow.
We listened to music constantly—always something playing in the background. We read to our baby. We talked to her. She got used to our voices, our rhythm, the way we existed together in that little space.
We laughed a lot. About how ridiculous it all was. About how insane it was to be living like this, in that heat, with that belly, in that trailer.
But we also had moments where we looked at each other and just… felt ready.
Not because we had everything figured out.
Because we had each other figured out.
The Heat
It was brutally hot. Like, “we should probably check into a hotel for the weekend” hot. So we did. We had some hotel points saved up and used them for short breaks—places with pools, decent air conditioning, and actual space to stretch out. And those weekends away? They saved us.
I don’t know how people RV full-time in the South during the summer without a better setup. If this had been our long-term plan, we would’ve had a bigger trailer, better airflow, more shaded spots—just more of everything.
We weren’t doing this to live the dream. We were just trying to stay close to home while our house was being finished.
It wasn’t perfect. But we had cold drinks, strong AC, a good fan, and each other. And that was enough—for a little while.
Would I Recommend Living in a Tiny RV While Pregnant?
Would I recommend living in a tiny trailer while very pregnant? No.
In a perfect world, we would’ve had a two bedroom trailer or a fifth wheel. Or wait… OUR HOUSE.
But we didn’t. We had 200 square feet, one AC unit, a dog who disappears into the floor at night, and each other.
It wasn’t easy, but it was doable.
And it made me feel like I could do hard things. Which, looking back, was kind of the perfect way to prepare for motherhood.
A few things that saved me in the trailer:
- Wedge pregnancy pillow
- Wedge for my swollen ankles
- Lap desk for working in bed
- Instant Pot
- LMNT hydration packs
- Giant Yeti tumbler
- A really good fan
- Headband ice pack
- Hotel points
- Podcasts and music
- Talking and reading to our baby, every day
- A very patient husband
- And yes—bags of frozen vegetables/rice
After the trailer came a short stint in an Airbnb. And then five more. With a newborn.
But that’s another story for another post.
I have some affiliate links on this post, so I can make (literally) a few pennies of this post to offset my hosting fees. All opinions are genuine and the products I endorse are actually products we use while living full-time in our R-Pod 192.
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