An Insight

Yesterday things went pretty well. I was planning to blog about how my hair has finally started falling out, apparently that happens after you have a baby. A wonderful hormonal side effect which is delayed if you are breastfeeding. Along with everything else, apparently.

But I am so tired. Little Bean is making a horrible whining, whingy sound which isn't a cry, or a grumble, or anything. I honestly have no idea why she is making it. She sounds incredibly tired, which doesn't surprise me, she hasn't slept much lately. Overnights appear to have gone backwards from good long stretches of up to 6 or 7 hours on a good night, to three hours if you're lucky. Yet she won't sleep. I've tried everything. Feeding, cuddling, leaving her, walking, patting, playing, changing nappies, yes dummy, no dummy and probably something not listed here.

So here is a video. So you can share my pain. Be warned, it shows the really glamorous side of parenting.

NB: I lied. I was in fact, half dressed, I had however been interrupted during the process, and was therefore still half not dressed.

30 minutes later: Wouldn't you know it. I put her in her bouncer and she's happy as Larry. There is no reason to this madness.

5 minutes later: Oh wait. Not happy anymore.

Morose Ghost

This, is a Morose Ghost:

This, is a Morose Me

My husband says we are currently very similar, Morose Ghost and I. 

Maybe that's because I no longer fit into my (once almost too big) favourite coat?

Or possibly my lack of shoe/sock putting on/off capability?

Or possibly the fact that I need this many pillows, arranged exactly like this in order to sleep even a little?

Or perhaps it's my cats frequent looks of disdain?

Either way, it's time for

MOROSE GHOST MOVER!

I'm off to look for them, I will let you know how I go!

29 weeks - antenatal

Ok, I think it's fair to say that this is getting pretty difficult now. Physically, and mentally it is taking quite a toll. At the start, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to handle it because of all my anxiety and panic attack issues, but I've surprised myself on that front. For the most part, any anxiety I have had has been pregnancy related, and fairly normal concern about effects on the baby. I haven't been in a constant state of unrestrained panic or fear, like I imagined I would be. I haven't been freaking out and feeling like there is an alien living inside me, that something abnormal is happening and I might die at any minute. I have made it through some pretty extreme panic situations without taking my normal calming miracle pills. I certainly haven't been wishing it would all go away constantly, and I definitely haven't gone crazy. Yet.

Perhaps that is all about to end, I don't know. All I do know, is that the last month has been hard. At first I wasn't sure if I was hormonal or actually getting legitimately depressed. I couldn't tell if I was just wanting to hide at home because I was actually tired, or if I was making excuses because I am becoming increasingly self conscious about my changing appearance. I decided to wait it out. Figuring that things would get better. But they didn't. They got worse.

Last week I had a complete break down. I got teary, irritable, exhausted, couldn't sleep, couldn't be bothered getting up, getting dressed, or even eating properly. I desperately, desperately wanted it to be over. I must have had a baby growth spurt, because suddenly I can't put on my shoes, I can't bend, or reach for things, and even my husband reckoned I'd grown one afternoon. Literally, bigger since that morning apparently.

I have been rude to friends, basically my inner monitor or think before texting/speaking seems to have vanished. I simply can't be bothered being tactful right now. I don't want to leave the house. I feel like everyone's eyes are constantly on me. I feel like the elephant in the room....which isn't far from the truth as far as I'm concerned. For someone who had pretty severe Social Anxiety right from 11 years old to mid twenties, these things are a big deal. I like to be invisible. I like to go about my day and not be noticed. I like to not be the topic of conversation. It is honestly, extremely disconcerting to suddenly find that I am public property.

Physically, things are tougher, walking is harder, and much slower than it should be. Sleeping with less than three pillows under my head makes the blood pound in my skull regardless of which way I am sleeping. Leg cramps can wake me biting back a scream, and the pain lingers for days afterwards. Sometimes baby kicks so hard, I actually worry that my skin can't possibly hold it in any longer.

I delayed getting pregnant for ages because I was terrified of the labour and morning sickness. Turns out, the things that are bothering me most, aren't even things I had considered. I never thought about actually BEING pregnant. I'd worried about physical things, but hadn't even contemplated the mental strain.

Fair to say that I do have antenatal depression. Something I'd (stupidly) never even considered. I'd heard about postnatal depression, and been quite worried about that, but this? Washing and folding the baby clothes helps a bit. It lets me be a bit excited about what this hard work is leading up to. Perhaps I will start sleeping in the nursery to lift my mood. Oh, and we start antenatal classes tomorrow. That will hopefully be fun. In the meantime, here's a sad kitten.

Grumpy Cat

I've pretty much decided this week, that being pregnant, is the worst thing ever.

Yes, I am aware that is a selfish, nasty, ungrateful thing to say.That there are plenty of people far worse of than me, so how can I be so naive and cruel! But I never said that I wasn't any of those things. I am very aware that society dictates that I should feel happy, glowing, lucky and like something miraculous is occurring within me. A new life is being created! I am a vessel producing a miracle! Everything is going OH SO WELL!

Well, sorry world. That is not how I feel.
For three weeks now, all I have wanted, is to take a break from being pregnant. To step off this train for just a minute, and catch my breath. To lie on my stomach. To eat something without feeling like the devil. To be able to lift things without everyone around me crying 'NO!' To go for a run. To walk somewhere without being asked 'when are you due?' To wear normal clothes. To get myself out of a chair without having to roll out. To stop having to tell people how I'm feeling. To walk without needing to pee constantly.

Yes, everything is going normally.
Yes, a lot of people would be so happy to be in my position.
Yes, we had no trouble getting pregnant. Yay for us! But to be honest, getting pregnant was fun. I feel like we were robbed of time spent 'trying'. It happened insanely fast. I thought we'd have ages to get prepared.

I want to skip forward three months. I want the baby to be here. I am sick of feeling like I'm harbouring an alien. Watching my tummy move when I'm trying to relax is weird. Waking up to leg cramps is really not fun.

I want control of my body again. I want to see the baby in it's bassinet. To put it in it's bouncer. To watch it sleeping. To take it for walks. To hold it. Sing to it. To finally hold it and get to know it. To go on family holidays with it.

I am a horrible, horrible person. I can sense the backlash already.
But this is my reality. And I'm not apologising for how I feel.
Deal with it.

Getting Resentful - (a pregnant rant)

It's true.
Right now, there is very little that isn't making me very angry. Hateful even.
Quite frankly. I have become an angry, bitchy, whinging, tearful monster.

I quote the huggies website for week 21:

"Try to take some time every day, just to enjoy your pregnancy. This is a time when the early discomforts have (hopefully) settled, but the baby isn’t so big it’s causing you to be really uncomfortable. You could feel yourself in love with the world, a sense of well-being infusing every pore. Alternately, you could just be feeling fat and a little fed up. You may find you have a very short fuse when it comes to tolerating others and find yourself irritated by the smallest things. Make the time to exercise which will help your body release endorphins, those feel good hormones."

Exercise 

Well, it's clear which group I'm part of, and they suggest 'exercise' will help.  That 'swimming is ideal'. Huh! Really? Have they tried fitting into a pair of togs lately? Or even figuring out the best way to shave your legs (without a) crushing the baby or b) falling over or c) finding yourself unable to stand back up) in order to respectably don any type of swimming outfit? Not to mention the extreme self consciousness that comes with looking like a baby whale. Hey, lets just make it more obvious, and jump into the pool! Find my distant relations and swim off into oblivion!


I want to exercise, I really do. But when it comes to the end of the day, I am far too exhausted to do anything. The other day, I even did what I swore as a beginning teacher I would never do. I put on a video for my class, because I was simply to tired to teach them anything.

Other People

Particularly men, seem oblivious to the fact that comments you would never say to us when we aren't pregnant, are not suddenly ok to say just because we are.

I am a very short person. Therefore, apparently I look much more pregnant that I actually am. I am only just over half way there, therefore I anticipate that I am going to be pretty much rolling everywhere I go in the not too distant future.

I AM AWARE OF THIS!

Calling me 'chubby' is not ok.

Saying 'it's ok that you're big, you're pregnant', does not make me feel better.

'You're only big in your belly' just makes me want to slap you.

Telling me 'you look like you swallowed a basket ball', is doing yourself no favours.

At least, I'm managing to avoid the tummy touching at the moment...most of those who know me seem to have been forewarned. 

Work

There is just way too much stuff to go into here.

I am on overload! I only officially work one part time job. That is essentially 16 hours of work a week. Or so my pay cheque will tell you. 

But, as any teacher will you, this is a lie. I do not work a mere 16 hours a week. No teacher does. I have 180 reports to write, 16 hours of lessons to plan a week, marking and photocopying to do for each class, not too mention the two hours of extra curricular choir rehearsals I run, a major musical performance evening coming up, as well as the half hour of duty I am supposed to do each week. So, I get paid for 16, but essentially work at least 30 in my official part time job.

Of course, lets not forget that I am also planning the giant interschool choir festival. Which was my own monster that I created last year. People really loved it, and now it must continue. However, I have no funding, can't afford to pay anyone, and therefore am acting as director, secretary, media spokesperson, school liason, presenter liason, marketing and communications all by myself for free. This week, I put in 6-10 hours of work in my own time to get this thing up and running, recruit people to run workshops, and write up and send out giant information packs to all the schools taking part. I have some help from others, but they are all very busy also.

And finally, this second baby monster I have created....my grand scheme to make a performance opportunity for myself in order to not let this years goals go to waste. The wonderful cabaret. It's fun, it's exciting, I think about it all the time. I have applied for rights, found the venue, found everyone who is involved, created the first ideas script, and sorted out advertising. But now someone has pulled out...and it's suddenly become very stressful. 

So - there you go. 

I bring it on myself. So what can I expect.

But I am still mad.

Dad's

Dad's have it easy as far as I can see. They get a baby without any hard work really. They can take a week or two off work and then go back, knowing that they aren't needed because Mum is the feeding machine. They get time off to go and interact with adults on a daily basis. They get to continue all their favourite pastimes while Mum is pregnant. As far as I can see right now, their lives actually don't get disrupted all that much. 

I know that I am probably completely wrong, but that's what I've been thinking this week, and it makes me MAD.

The Baby

And yet, with all this going on, all I want to do is think about the baby. I just want to make up the room. I just want to stay home with it and not go back to work. I just want it to get here so that I can say 'hi, little one'.

I just want someone to come and say - "it's all good, take a rest and feel baby move some more. Everything's under control and everything will be fine. I'll take it from here."

But in today's modern world, and with my own over ambitiousness, lets be honest. Who gets to do that?

A Week of Weird

I'm at 21 weeks now, but apparently I am lying about that.
I know this, because during this week, four different teachers told me (in a variety of ways) that I looked much further along than I say I am.
Some of the best comments:
"You're only 21 weeks? Shouldn't you still be able to hide it?"
"You aren't due till september? You look like you've swallowed a basketball!"
And a beauty I heard second hand from students, "Miss is pregnant? I knew it! The rest of the class just thought she was really really fat."

These harmless comments, which were probably forgotten about the instant the perpetrators uttered them, have been my downfall this week.

On wednesday morning, I couldn't find a single thing to wear, everything made me look huge, I couldn't find anything that fitted. I was heading towards a disintegrating meltdown when Husband calmly directed me to 'go do my teeth' while he endeavoured to hunt for my one pair of pregnancy pants. In the end, I went to school in my stretchy gym pants and a t-shirt. Cleverly disguised as work pants with a nice jersey. Still, I spent all day worried that I looked enormous, and that every single person was sizing me up. Even today I was asked the wonderful question "Are you absolutely positive you are not having twins?"

On Tuesday I felt my first Braxton Hicks Contraction. It was really weird, I was just walking along, and then my tummy seized up. It didn't hurt, but I had to stop walking for a minute until it relaxed again. My midwife says these don't normally happen till later, but the google machine tells me a different story, and made me feel normal. So I am sticking with google for now.

Bubs is kicking and moving around a lot, still not strong enough to be felt on the outside, much to Husbands disappointment, nevertheless, I really enjoy feeling it, which is surprising, because for as long as I can remember, I have just expected that I would hate it. That it would feel alien and weird, and awful. I was actually really nervous about feeling it, but now that's all changed. I love it, I can sit for ages with my hand on the bump just waiting for the next one.

I am taking tomorrow off school, as I am absolutely exhausted. The discomfort of not being able to find a comfy position to sleep, the heartburn, the infrequent but painful round ligament pain, the swollen ankles and body that is already 7kg heavier than it was 5months ago, let alone the mood swing train, is taking it's toll in a big way right now.

At least I have my little kicker to keep me company! Maybe she'll be a soccer star!

Boy or Girl...

In exactly two hours, we will (hopefully) be told wether we are having a boy, or a girl.

I am currently riding a wee emotional rollercoaster, this morning I was super calm. I drove to the midwife, realised that I'd forgotten my folder, turned back for it, realised that that would make me 15 minutes late, so turned around again. Chatted happily with my midwife, did pee test for UTI's, glucose and protein, heard the heartbeat again - it was much louder and stronger this time, so my 'what if' attacks have no ground at this point, baby is definitely still there. I haven't harmed it with my flying panic attacks, or having too hot a bath, or lying on my back, side, front, or eating a tiny bit of blue cheese. I also got a medical certificate to verify that I am in fact pregnant, so that I can apply for maternity leave. I left feeling excited and energetic and impatient to get the big scan over with.

A mere hour later I am now on the verge of tears after reading some articles about people giving birth, living with babies, and being pregnant. Not scared tears though, just emotional ones. A lot of things are setting me off lately, it seems it doesn't take much at all, a picture of a cute baby hedghog. A beautiful song. Going to my first pregnancy yoga class and talking to other mums to be, realising that I am normal. I can hardly think straight, I keep forgetting things which shouldn't be so hard to remember.  All I can think about is, 'is it a girl or a boy'?

I'm so excited, I feel like, once we know what sex it is, we can start naming it, and planning properly and that everything will feel even more real than it already is. I don't know why though, as it's already pretty real, and it wouldn't make a difference what we were having, we would still plan the same. But there it is, I have set myself off again!

Baby Brain, it's a real thing

Top 5 baby brain moments so far.

5. Searching for my fuel discount card in my wallet, my bag, my wallet again, under the car seat, wallet again! Oh wait, there it is. In my wallet. Right in the first pocket. Staring right at me.

4. Walking into the supermarket. Carefully recited list of necessaries vanishes inexplicably. Walk up and down aisles for 15 minutes hoping something will come back. Got some stuff. Got back into the car. Drove home. Didn't have what I went there for. Husband not impressed.


3. Walking into a class and prepping the board. Kids I've never seen before walk in for class. Clearly NOT my class. What on earth am I teaching now? Late to class.


2. I really should start writing things down, 'cos number 2 was a winner.......


1. Is it the first of April or the first of May that's April fools....oh, wait.

Remaining Dainty

Remaining dainty whilst pregnant is difficult.
Firstly, at 17 weeks, I now feel like I'm about to tip over onto my face, and regularly have to straighten myself up. I feel like I must look somewhat similar to a depressed spotty teenager, or possibly an elderly sloth.

At least, if I could actually reach the ground with my hands anymore, I might look somewhat sloth-like.

Not to mention, that I can now not stretch up to reach things as I get little pangs in my stretching tummy - this makes writing on the whiteboard rather difficult, in fact, it makes everything difficult, as I am already rather short, so this has essentially shortened me further.

One thing I'm learning this week, being embarrassed and conservative about bodily functions while preggers, is not a good idea.  Let it all out they say! (I say...literally?)

Never mind though, we find out the sex in three weeks, and then I can start imagining what fun things I will do to pay baby back....perhaps one of these will work?

Oh little baby, what fun we shall have! 

Disclaimer: I will not be using any of the above techniques to discipline my baby. We will wait until they are at least 6 months old.

Disclaimer re Disclaimer: That was a joke. We would NEVER use these on a 6 month old. 

We will wait until they are slightly older.

Things I never expected when I was expecting

My anxiety has fluctuated greatly over the past couple of months. One moment I feel fine, like I can handle all these changes and uncertainties like a pro! The next, I look in the mirror, see my spotty skin and growing waistline and freak out. Thoughts like "I can't do this, get me off!" are not uncommon in our household at those moments. It doesn't help that I feel completely useless next to my superhero husband who has started doing the groceries, making tea, doing the dishes, the laundry, and still managing to work and rehearse his show, all while I battle the urge to eat an entire box of coco pops, struggle to get off the couch, and can barely keep my eyes open during the day, yet lay awake all night. Basically, I have become a useless and incompetent incubator who no longer fits anything, or can walk anywhere for longer than half an hour without having to sit down. I do buy him lots of presents to show him how grateful I am, but it doesn't feel like enough. He says it's fine, but I don't believe it is. I only hope that I can show him how amazing he is and pull through this pregnancy without too many anxious meltdowns!


The top 10 things I never expected when I was expecting (other than how amazing my husband would be).
16 weeks edition

1. My cute tiny feet would grow.
2. My hair would fall out...I thought it was supposed to stop falling out at all!
3. How quickly I would no longer fit my clothes.
4. How ravenously hungry you can be after eating all day, and how sick being hungry can make you feel.
5. ...I can't quite remember this one......Baby brain! (It's a real thing).
6. That food aversion is just as real as food craving.
7. At the start, it hurts when you cough, it hurts when you sneeze, it hurts when you laugh
8. Suddenly women everywhere are dying to tell your their pregnancy stories, their birth stories, in fact, any stories.
9. How sore your boobs can get.....even going over speed bumps was TORTURE.
10. That I'd stop being so afraid of labour - the thought of not being pregnant is just too good!

and the added bonus thing: 

1. How many weird dreams of trying to crawl through tiny spaces I would start having....hmmmm.
2. oh, did I mention how amazing my husband would be?

The Post Titled Either - Carried away on a tide of hormones, OR - Crazy Pregnant Lady Sings At the Top of her lungs whilst crying (and it was pathetic)

Yesterday was a bad day.

Pretty much that sums it up perfectly, but I suppose you readers might need a little more info.
Lets start at the top.

Firstly, I had a fight with my husband about going home for easter weekend and spending the whole time travelling between family's houses. Notably, he wanted to see his parents, I did not. Clearly, I was not about to compromise.

Secondly, I cried all the way to school, where upon I nearly vomited in front of my students, before proceeding to apologise and run for the exit, only to open the door and set off the library alarms. Cue, much laughter from students, one bright red, dry heaving teacher.

Not a happy start so far. But that was just the beginning.

Continued to dry heave every half hour for the next three hours. Then the zip on my last pair of fitting black trousers BROKE. Luckily for me, I was wearing a long top. However I wasn't happy about having to teach a bunch of 13 year olds drama without my pants done up. Thankfully, I am pretty talented, and was able to act like nothing was the matter (and they will NEVER know).

Finally, I drove home, still feeling like I was going to puke. Got home, realised I'd left my wallet AND my drink bottle at school.

Climbed into my pyjamas (at 1.30pm), turned on some very loud, VERY EMOTIONAL music, and proceeded to sing at the top of my choked up, pathetically miserable voice while bawling at the injustice of that certain career in show business that I will now NEVER HAVE THE CHANCE TO FULFIL!

Seriously though - this was meant to be the year where I auditioned for everything and really started giving it a real go to make a career in singing. My Husband is still auditioning and acting and doing fun stuff like that. He's equally as responsible for this baby. So how is that fair?

What were we thinking???

A sharp, very confident rap on the door awoke us this morning at the ungodly pre-baby saturday morning time of 8am.

A courier. With a parcel!

From.....China??

Once I managed to break into the box, we were rather amazed to find a baby monitor (complete with night vision, LCD screen, wireless capabilities and two way intercom system), along with a baby doppler heart beat listener thingy.

But who on earth sent them? We certainly didn't know the chinese name listed on the customs ticket, nor had we ordered anything from anywhere at all. A little bit of sleuthing followed, mostly with the clues - who knows me by my married name, and who loves gadgets? In this wonderful day of the internet, the mysterious present givers were uncovered in a matter of minutes. Thank you, wonderful honorary grandparents, what a great start to the day!

Unfortunately, thats where it ended.

Having got paid this week, I was super excited to go shoe shopping for my rapidly growing feet, as well as potentially decking out the baby room. Yep, in my head, it was going to be that fast, and that simple. I should have learnt that lesson by now, shopping has never been, and never will, be something I am good at.

I got the shoes (and this GREAT pair of slippers which will no doubt ensure I am taken seriously at all times) with little problem, 

and then proceeded to the giant Babycity store.

OH, GOOD, LORD!

Where on earth, do you start. Cots are not just cots. They have levels, colours, ratings, different features, brands, some have mobiles attached, some convert into toddler beds, some have extensions, others have 'sleigh' ends. Car seats....don't even get me started. I stood staring at the wall in a somewhat disorientated daze. Do we need a capsule, a convertible car seat, a seat with a three point harness, one that reclines? Do we need to be able to clip it into a travel thing, or are we after something we can remove from the car? Bottles, breast pumps, breast pads, diaper disposals and cute little brightly coloured feeding utensils swarmed before me in a kaleidoscopic fury. Whilst push chairs, strollers, mountain buggys and convertible strollers with cup holders and ipod chargers (I may have imagined that one) were all jostling for my attention.

Buy me! You NEED me! Look here! Look there! You will NOT SURVIVE without us!

You have NO idea what you are doing!!

Before I walked in, my head was full of cot buying excitement. Tiny bottles were swirling around my brain, and I could barely contain my excitement at the thought of the cute peter rabbit branded blankets we could come out with. But now I was suddenly overwhelmed, intimidated even. I had no idea what I needed, or why I had even thought I could possibly walk into a baby shop at all. Should we be buying anything? How do we know what (if anything) we might be getting as gifts? Suddenly I realised I was hungry. I had to pee (again). Where was my husband?!

On the way home, I had a wee tantrum in the car, while stopped at the lights, with the window down. Something along the lines of "Why didn't I listen to myself when we were thinking of having kids. You knew nothing! At least I knew what we were going to be up against. This is awful! I'm so hungry! I already look five months pregnant! I'm going to BE A WHALE!"

The somewhat older than us couple in the next car thought it was hilarious, which then made me laugh, which quickly turned into the first (of three) set of tears on the way home. 

We stopped at mcdonalds. Baby wanted a cheese burger apparently. I bought a big mac combo and a cheeseburger, and practically inhaled the cheeseburger. NEVER has a cheeseburger tasted so good. Husband laughed at me and offered to drive. But dammit - we were in MY car. 

Well, finally we got home, and I am wearing my slippers (oh happy days). Although it is warm. We have decided to have a good look on online auctions - we think we have found a real possible winner of a cot (with all the bedding) which closes in ....42 minutes! I should probably get back to being a ninja bidder then!

Here is our happy announcement photo we used to make this ordeal 'facebook public' :) enjoy!

Day before The Scan

One day until the big scan.
So many questions and worries running round my head.
Will they say, "There's nothing there, you're imagining it, you're just fat."
Or worse, "I'm sorry to tell you, but your baby is dead."

But it's true that I'm fat, at 12 weeks apparently I already look pregnant.
At least, enough so that students feel ok to ask me outright,
"Miss, are you pregnant?"
And friends are telling me that people are asking them if I am,
because I look like I'm showing.

When that happened before I would cry, be offended.
It doesn't matter that that wasn't what they intended,
at least most of the time.

So, what if I'm told, "It's twins, no wait triplets...."
How could I possibly cope with more than one!

My skin is 14 years old again,
and wouldn't you know it, I can't use pro-active.
Who knew that skin care products could harm your baby.
Just one more list to add to the already massive list of things to avoid.

Soft eggs, raw eggs, soft cheese, processed meats, alcohol, cold chicken, hot baths, saunas, hummus, pate, soft serve ice cream, mayonaise, food from cabinets, reheated foods, buffet foods, unpasturised foods, salads, cold pasta...........!!!

When I add the list of things that now make we want to vomit
(fried foods, stir frys, noodles, whole steaks(cut up ones are fine??)
What, realistically, is left.

I am living in an anxiety ridden bubble.
Floating between excitement for the end product,
and terror of everything that could go wrong,
panic at every new sensation - and there are many,
concern that I've harmed bub already,
worry that I'm going to get inundated with visitors in september
fear that I won't get visited by anyone
anxiety that I will have to fly up with baby to meet the family
stress that I wont be able to do it
worry that I will not be able to stay sane enough to be a good mum.

Lets see what tomorrow's scan will tell us.