Monday, August 24, 2015

Wine and coffee.

I've done a 'things i'll miss' post so this is a 'things I'm looking forward to' one. See how they differ in length! I really can't help but complain about how rough this pregnancy is. I do feel very blessed to be able to have a second baby, make no mistake, but oh my god it's been a long and hard slog. I keep getting told "you don't have long left!" well actually yes I fucking do so shut up. Once she's out I'm all about...

Getting my body back. Alright, it'll take a while for it to look how it did on 1st January, but it'll be all mine again and I'll get to wear nice clothes and shoes and it'll be autumn which is my favourite season so who's the winner here? Although this autumn I'll have a new challenge, finding breastfeeding friendly clothes.



You'd better believe I'm gonna rock the shit out of these


Wine. Oh glorious wine. I've had half a glass here and there throughout the pregnancy but I'm excited to have a FULL glass of beautiful red wine. Actually, make that a FULL bottle.

Cheese. Brie and Camembert! And all those lovely Italian meats I was told not to touch. Smoked salmon! As if that baby weight is coming off anytime this year. Let's get Christmas out the way and we'll start thinking about some kind of healthy eating (not eating everything in sight) plan in the New Year.

Coffee. Hot, caffeinated coffee. The feeling you get when it's flowing through your veins. Sweet lord how I've missed that. And the palpitations you get when you've had too much! That's special.

Red hot baths. Alright, I know baths aren't going to be a regular thing, we established that in the other post. But when I have one it's going to be scalding hot. My skin is going to peel right off and it is going to feel good.

Being able to see my vagina. Not that I look at it all day long but, you know, I like to see what's going on down there (clue: not a lot). And being able to tie my shoelaces without grunting / cursing under my breath.

Holding my tiny baby. Sniffing her head. Watching my little girl become a big sister. After wine and coffee, that's probably the thing I'm looking forward to the most (I JEST, a little).

Not having piles. What more is there to say on this matter?

The gym. I genuinely miss the gym, for me it's the best stress reliever ESPECIALLY when you're knackered. Why is that?

Wearing bras that make my tits look semi-decent (even if they drop to my knees when I take one off). Maternity bras just don't do it for me. Oh god, I've got to get past nursing bras first haven't I?!

Sleeping(!) how I want. On my back, on my front. Having to sleep on my left side all the time isn't my favourite.

Not waddling. Or having excruciating pelvic pain. Being able to walk fast again. Not feeling like a massive great lump.

Putting on my own shoes and tying laces... "Lil can you take my shoes off for me please?"


COME ON, YOU CAN DO THIS. Not long to go *punches self in head*




Friday, August 21, 2015

3rd trimester LOLZ

You're not going to see your vagina for a while so you'd either better make regular appointments to get waxed or just not bother and go 70's mum bush. I'm told by a midwife (no less) that they really don't care about what your downstairs bits look like, they're only interested in you and that baby. And let's be honest, it's just effort when you get to the third trimester.

You will not be able to get comfortable for shit. Sitting on the sofa, the floor, a cushion, a stool, sleeping on your left, sleeping on your right, sleep sitting up... I've only found relief on a birth ball and even then once restless legs kick in that doesn't help. Let the rage wash over you and go for a walk. Or have a bath.

If heartburn hasn't driven you round the bend yet, you can expect it to turn up at some point in the final stretch of your pregnancy. Here's what I've found helps... NOT mint Gaviscon, apparently you need to steer clear of that shit (mint aggravates it which makes no fucking sense since they make it in that flavour). Opt for the aniseed version, yes I know it's rank but it does help. And I know it has a spunky consistency but needs must... swallow, don't spit.

Harder than it sounds


Now is the perfect time to play the pregnancy card, especially if you've avoided it so far. You can get out of EVERYTHING. Dinner with your mother in law? Nausea is back, sorry, can't stomach the smell of food. Kids party to go to? Pregnancy headache, sorry, you'll have to take the kids instead darling husband. Filling the trolley up with crap in IKEA and your other half is huffing and puffing because you don't need another chopping board and you really don't need anymore fucking plants? Just give him the 'don't fuck with this raging pregnant bitch' stare. It's a card you don't have the privilege of using forever.

You're going to waddle like a duck with something shoved up its backside. Roll with it.

People are going to ask how much longer you have to go and then act shocked when you tell them because "you look fit to burst". They will also say "oh not long to go now" especially when you're in a bad mood and everything is irritating you. Ignore them. Or punch them. Your call.

You are going to wake up one day and want to paint the entire house from top to bottom. Don't, you'll regret it by the time you've finished painting one wall and your vagina has seized up. Get your baby daddy to do that. You stick to ordering new shit online and delegating the tough stuff. There's a packet of biscuits in the cupboard with your name on it.

Piles.

LOLZ.



Thursday, August 20, 2015

Fugly cry face and gut sucking.

I'm done with the weekly updates now. I mean it's hardly going to get any better, at least until the baby arrives anyway. And then it'll get a different kind of worse, a good but bad one. You know what I mean.

I'm only going to get larger and more miserable as the weeks pass, whether it's because of SPD or general pregnant irritability at everyone or because my first baby is starting school in a matter of weeks (fugly cry face, Kim Kardashian ain't got shit on me). So I thought I'd stop all that. Instead, this week I've written a list of things I'll miss about being pregnant because as much as I've moaned about pregnancy, I'm totally gonna miss it. A bit.

Not having to suck in my gut. Wearing bodycon was never going to be on my list of things to do but pregnancy has allowed this and I like to think I've rocked that shit. Come October it'll be baggy tops over skinny jeans with my stomach tucked in until at least the spring and even that's ambitious.

The pregnancy card. Although giving back that card does open you up to a whole new card... The "sorry I can't I have a newborn / child I need to collect from school" card. Double whammy. And those hormones that are raging around your body, well those are newborn baby hormones which means you have an excuse for throwing the controls at your husbands head / demanding he goes to the Co-Op to you chocolate because you're so fucking exhausted. The joys of being a pregnant / post partum / woman in general woman. 

There must be more. Er...

Feeling the baby move? Nah, that's just gotten uncomfortable now and anyway, I felt Lil move in my uterus even after she was out. That was weird. Twitchy insides.

The long hot soaks. Ah yes, those. Like hell am I going to be able to manage one of those for a while. Unless the baby is a dream and free of colic / attitude and will let me live my life a bit during the day. I know, I'm wild. Baths are my life (after sleep and food anyway).

Excuse for a pedicure? Nope, as if any woman ever needed an excuse for one of those.

This is hard.

I'll miss eating as much as I have been. I haven't eaten toooooooo much this time or at least not that much more than normal because I've heard it's a bastard to shift the baby weight the second time round (hi Mum!) and yes I was one of those lucky smug fuckers who was back to their pre-pregnancy weight in 6 weeks with Lil (but in my defence I hardly ate because screamy baby / no food in the house / exhaustion / caffeine... a diet I'm hoping not to have to live on this time because that shit wasn't fun... Well I know I'll be eating exhaustion for every meal but... Whatever). Oh lovely food how I love you. Calories don't count when you're up the duff. I've totally contradicted myself there I'M PREGNANT I'M ALLOWED TO.



Sleep. Although this is a tricky one. I'm not getting much sleep because from the moment I get into bed there's a party in my uterus until the early hours but what I am getting is to sleep in on the weekends and those few extra hours (although there is nothing 'extra' about them really is there) help. Sleeping in on the weekends will be a thing of the past (again) for the next four or so years. I'm going to go and weep in the corner now. WHY do we do this to ourselves? I am totally fucking napping when the baby naps this time. No messing around wasting time watching her sleep or making bread rolls or cleaning. HELL NO. I ain't no fool (I am a bit of one to be honest). Contradicted myself again. Whatever. 

Being lazy. "I haven't done anything today because this baby is draining the life out of me and I'm so tired." Well she'll put an end to that one when she arrives won't she (not the tiredness, obvs). I won't have the excuse of not being able to touch sixty-shot flat whites. Nuh uh. Bitch, the world moves on so get over that shit, neck some coffee and get on with your day. Pffft.

So there are things I'll miss. Mainly sleep. This whole post should have just read "I'll miss sleep" and that's about it, really. I'm sure I'll be able to add to this once I give birth. 

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Week 30

Dear baby in my belly

You've been growing for 30 weeks now and while I've loved (ok, exaggeration) having you stay and use my ribs as a xylophone with your feet, I really can't wait for you to come out in 7 (or so) weeks. I'm excited to meet you, of course I am, but I'm also excited to have a bladder that doesn't get beaten the shit out of every time you move.

Your head is down and I'm pretty sure that at some point when I take a shower or do a wee, I'm going to see an arm pop out and give me a little wave. That's how much pressure I'm feeling down there right now, keep up the good work!

You're growing well although you're not huge like people keep telling me, you're roughly the size of a baby a week younger than you and that's ok. Especially if I decide that you're coming out down there and not through your sisters exit. But I guess you have time to grow quite a lot bigger and end up hurting me pretty bad. Grow, just don't... You know... Get too big. 

My boobs are getting ready for you, my chest resembles a road map even more so than it did with your sister. It looks like she's drawn on my chest with a felt tip pen, I've taken a picture to show you when you're older. You can apologise then.

You have a ton of clothes waiting to be worn, blankets to be snuggled in, a shit ton of knitwear too. An autumn baby! You lucky little thing. All the best babies are born in the autumn (AHEM) although don't tell your sister I said that. Speaking of autumn, when you hop over to the real world I'll almost be thirty. I'll be all saggy and have leaky boobs and flappy skin but I'll have my two girls and there's not much more I could ask for. Apart from a giant cake, lots of wine and some sparkly presents because I'll still be turning thirty and you won't be stealing my thunder kiddo, OH NO.

I've moaned a lot about this pregnancy but only because it's a big old slog. I'm grateful that you're in there all safe and well, kicking the granny out of me all night long. But don't you worry sunshine, you and your sister will pay in the form of sleep deprivation ten years down the line when your father and I decide it will be fun to get you up at 6am on the weekend for hikes in the rain. 



Keep on doing your thing, although perhaps limit it a little at nighttime so I can get SOME sleep in preparation for your arrival. And remember, don't get TOO big. And if you get suddenly jolted out of your day sleep because your big sister is singing to you... You'd better get used to that shit. And for god sake whatever you do, never tell her she can't sing.

Peace out,
Mama xo