I went to lie down this afternoon with my son and my book, only to wake up two hours later, kindle akimbo and pelvis screaming at me. I’d call it narcolepsy, but I suspect “pregnancy” is a better diagnosis. I woke up to find that Isaac hadn’t wet himself, that Nathan had cleaned the house and that everything was pretty much perfect. I am inordinately grateful for this.
Ten minutes later as I was sipping a cup of tea to wash down the buckets of panadol I required, Isaac ran up to me, threw his arms around my neck and squeezed tightly, before racing off again.
In contrast, I saw a physio yesterday who reminded me about the importance of good posture, gave me millions of pelvic floor exercises to do, looked a bit stunned when I discussed what joints of mine actually dislocate and sold me a pelvic brace.
It was an interesting appointment, rehashing things I already knew about how to correctly sit at my computer, how to not destroy my vagina forever and how to ease strain on my shoulders.
All of which are perfect in theory, but a little messy in reality. I pointed this out and she responded “It’s about finding the reality within the ideal”.
Which I guess is a perfect description of life, isn’t it?
As much as the ideal version of sitting at a computer looks great, if I sit properly, my blood pressure bottoms out and I either puke, or pass out. Neither are conducive to working, in case you’re interested. And so I write blog posts either lying in bed with a laptop, or with my feet resting up near the mantelpiece. Definitely bad for my posture, but it’s about finding the least bad thing and attempting that.
I keep reminding myself that pregnancy is not forever, that eventually I’ll be allowed to take the good drugs again and that I will have a smooshy new baby as compensation. Sometime in September, I’ll stop wanting to puke all of the time, my joints will stabilise a little bit and my skin will clear up.
Everything is falling apart and yet, it’s all going to be okay. Even if I spend the next three months unable to actually do anything other than write things and lie down, it will get better. Things will ease and I will not remain this unwell for ever.
This is shades of Amy’s pregnancy over again and I survived that, in worse health to start with. I can get through this. Pregnancy is meant to be glowing health and skipping through rainforests, while birds serenade me.
However, I’ve got to get used to the reality, within my ideal.
24 weeks.
You seem to have popped out all of a sudden. Your belly is looking lovely and round. It’s amazing what our bodies can go through isn’t it. Quite the miracle.
Is that a baby push/kick/nudge I see down by the stretch marks?
How lovely!
September?
Looks more like August to me…….but that could be because the rest of you is so slim.
Such a beautiful post to read even though I know you are in pain…I can read your calm & happy mood here as you write. Love those words from the Physio.i shall try to recall them more myself. Veronica… You are looking good .. ( I know feeling crap) and your baby’s shape is beautiful. Love to you all Denyse xx
Wow. It’s going fast! Savour the good bits, indulge in the beauty – and reality – of creating life. Hugs from me. X
My first pregnancy I barely showed at 6 months. (that’s when I told my mother I was pregnant!) My second pregnancy I wasn’t even 3 months along and couldn’t wear regular clothes. Your tummy is lovely! Are people patting it? I didn’t mind some people doing it but really didn’t like people I didn’t love touching me!
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