29 Weeks up the Duff.

I was 9 weeks pregnant the last time I wrote about this pregnancy.

I was full of hope and joy and love and excitement.

I won’t put weight on! I won’t suffer ill mental health as I am aware of the warning signs! I will stay calm and honest! I will write every week and get back in to blogging! I will document every stage of pregnancy! This is going to be an amazing journey and so different to last time!

So it is with great difficulty I am now forced to admit to you, with all that excitement and wonder having been in the air, I am now actually a 29-week pregnant fat hog with back pain, a lower abdomen shaped like a 6-wheeler caravan and the temper of a thousand rampaging bastards.

My stock phrase ‘I don’t remember it being this hard first time round…’ is uttered every time I get to the top step on our staircase (there are only 12 in total) and nearly palpitate to death, every time I have to get up from my desk and walk the 40 paces to the loo and each and every time I need to put a pair of socks on- grunting and straining like a pot bellied pig trying to cross its legs.

I mean, it must have been hard last time, I just can’t remember it.

I remember eating a lot of KFC and Cadbury’s Drifters. I remember milking my time as Queen of the World and having The Irish One making me tea and running around after me constantly. I vaguely remember being unhappy at resembling the back end of the Magic bus. But seriously, I do not remember it feeling this uncomfortable in every single way, or feeling this downright fed up.

I have been trying to enjoy it, I really have, as I know this will be the last time, but I can barely walk, my back is broken, I am asleep every night by 7.30 pm, and wide awake at 2am (is there such a thing as pregnancy jetlag?) And I am either feeling sick or so full of food in an attempt to get rid of the nausea I feel sick. My thighs are like dodgem cars slamming in to one another, angry and ricocheting with every step. My boobs have gone from a comfy 36B to a pair of stretched war torpedo’s sizing in at 38E, sitting like weapons of mass discussion on my rib cage. (‘Wow your boobs have really grown! The Irish one must be happy!’)

And also Seriously!!!! What is it with people having no filter around pregnant women? (‘Wow you are fucking massive!’) 

My hair has also grown outwards. It is now entering Pomeranian territory with the humidity only adding to the Tina turner-esque quality, and on top of all this I am angry, irritable, upset and hurt, joyous and apathetic all of the damn time. (‘I just can’t get over how big you are! Are you sure you aren’t having twins?’)

Sometimes I have to wonder if I am growing a baby in each of my arse cheeks as well as my uterus. (‘How much weight have you actually put on? 2/3 stone?’)

I am having another boy too, so there really was no rational explanation for the constant sickness at the start. (‘Oh are you disappointed you aren’t having a girl?’) 

The gnarly old fortune teller at the Irish circus in 1998 was right. She told me in confidence, leaning in from behind a very withered face and the 4 teeth left in her mouth ‘Youuuu are destined to be surrounded by gorgeous men who will worship youuu!’ 

Forgive me for picturing this a little differently.

blog

I am still excited though. Another boy!

I bloody love boys!

I am Excited and terrified.

I have been awarded an NHS mental health midwife (on account of the whole going loco down in Acapulco thing last time) who is big on visualization. (with a Z.) Not just for in labour, but for the whole time.

What if it is like last time? I am scared.

‘Visualize the love, Visualize the differences, Visualize the joy.’

What if I don’t fall in love with the baby instantly again? What if I turn in to a mega-bitch from hell because I’m cow shit when I’m tired? What if I lose my grip on reality again?

‘Visualize the truth, visualize things getting easier, visualize the challenge passing….’

What if my relationship falls apart again? What if we can’t agree on a name? What if he continues to show no understanding of how I may need a bit more emotional support right now given how vulnerable I am, and carrys on acting like I’m nothing more than an annoyance? What if he never washes the cutlery? 

‘Visualize yourself sorting it out…’

i_4518_funny-pregnancy-tips-011

Today I am 29 weeks pregnant and I feel and look like dog shit. 

But still, I am trying to be positive.

Honest.

(‘Oh my god, you have 11 weeks left?! You look like you are ready to drop!’) 

Advertisements

4 Comments on “29 Weeks up the Duff.

  1. Lexy you are such a great writer never give it up. One day you make me cry (your letter to your son you published last week made me cry so much I was so moved by it) the next day you make me laugh out loud like!
    I think you are bloody amazing!

  2. Absolute truth. Day to day pregnancy is like a bloody Richter scale; mountainous highs cavernous lows, alternating sometimes within seconds…… Physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting. And when that challenge continues as part everyday life, few can address it with the candour and openness of Mammywoo. Thanks for keeping it real. Thanks for sharing. Keep on keeping on! You got this Xx

Ah go on go on go on - reply?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

whocareswhatithinkanyway

Reviews, news and immaterial opinions...

CHOL PALAI

Tales of Travel

Mr Oliver.

Gaming, Music & Movies

biffandkate

parenting anxiety panic love laughter

Madre se aprende

Porque nadie nació sabiendo

A Box of Fluffies

The fluffy and not so fluffy of mummyhood: Memoirs and musings

Victorian Mini

Adventures in Modeling

feeding my intolerant child

Overcoming the challenges of food intolerance

The Tipsy Runner

One step at a time.......

MumMuddlingThrough

Mum with more questions than answers. Imaginary fitness guru. Healthy eating experimenter, sometimes.

madchesh

The ravings of a Gay man with a personality disorder and HIV. I'm a catch!

Pets & Mental Health

Life, Mental Health, Anxiety, Depression, Health, Family, Knitting, Crochet, oh and pets! Lots of Pets! <3

Not Another Mum and baby group

A place for mums to get together for support and socialising

meandmegirl

Me & Me Girl (MG) on a mission to change the world, one bit at a time...

Days in Bed

Healthy Family Happy Home

scar

where three roads meet, there she is standing

Dad Without A Map

Unwrapping parenthood one nappy at a time

Weight Watchers Vegetarian

Vegetarian and vegan recipes and ideas for following Weight Watchers UK

improperly forward

A WORLD OF BEAUTIFUL CONTRADICTIONS

Sarsm's Blog

Quest for humour in my existence

Theplumbum's Blog

Stuff and me

julius22193

keep going

Be Like Water

Music, Film and Life

A Cornish Mum

Cornwall, Lifestyle, Parenting, Type 1 Diabetes Blog

Dear Mummy Blog

The travellings of Baby Isabella

Big Red Carpet Nursing

Fun & Progress!

Bipolarparent's Blog

Bipolar, Parenting, social services involvement but mostly me

Right from the Start

Play, Early Education and more...

HonieMummy Blog

The ramblings & goings on of the HonieHouse, HonieKitchen & HonieLikes

Tales from inside

Our family life

Oscar Relentos

Welcome to my catharsis

VAGABOND CITY

A digital space feat. poetry, art, nonfiction, interviews, and reviews by marginalized creators.

ScouseDad

Ey Ey Ey Calm Down!!!

Long Distance Daughter

Support on the journey of caring for aging parents

Doodlemum

a day in the life of my sketchbook...

A Mum on a Mission

ONE MUM'S BLOG OF HOW HER WORLD GOES ROUND!

Nothing But Words & Wine

Often Wine Sodden, always Emotional musings of a single Mummy sinking under the housework.

Mum on the brink

Parenting, travel and technology... and more

Living otherwise

another view on how we make it up

A Write Relief... (for PND)

A thirty-something mum's journey through postnatal depression... and beyond!

Typecast

Just another WordPress.com weblog

%d bloggers like this: