So, last week I noticed for the first time, and despite many daily applications of miracle stretchmark creams, that I now have brand spanking new stretchmarks on my belly.
Not kewl.
It seems that, regardless of whatever promises made on the bottles of these lotions and potions, the fact of the matter is, if you are meant to get stretchmarks from pregancy, you will get them. And no cream is gonna stop the body from doing what it does. I.e., stretching to accommodate the parasite.
My ribs feel like they are moving outward as well, much to the discomfort of my chest. Likewise, the bones in my pelvic area seem to be moving to the side. Dull aches that don't go away accompany this perceived movement.
Monday marked the first of the now weekly visits I must make to the obstetrician. At R330 a week, I wonder if I'm in the right business. And I know that if I have any more kids, I will be skipping the larger amount of these visits. I'm fine, the baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. So, this cash could be much better spent elsewhere, methinks. Especially as there are no warning signs that anything may be wrong in this pregnancy.
I am basically done with packing my hospital bag. All I need to put in now, is a toothbrush, some jammies and an outfit or two. Problem is, I only have 1 toothbrush, 2 sets of comfy jammies I can still wear and 3 comfy outfits. If I pack them, I'll have to hang around naked in the house for the next 3 weeks. And, that, friends and neighbours, will not be happening. So, I figure, the house is only 3 mins away from the hospital; if all else fails, the husband could always go get my toiletries and an outfit during the "waiting around" part of the labour.
All systems are go for the big event. The baby's goodies have been ziplocked and are ready for use. We have many glucose rich treats for energy (Though, I can't imagine the sugar release will give sustained energy. Also, I'm planning on an epidural, but one never can know how these things will pan out. If I get to hospital too late, I may have to forego the epidural. Yikes.) The challenge now is to NOT eat the goodies in the bag before the event...
*sigh*
How the sugary treats taunt me!
I'm at the office this morning, doing some final review work. I just wanna get everything in order and done before the manager returns tomorrow. After I finish this document, I will finally be free of this place till next year. I am officially on leave. But, it's just bad sportsmanship to leave review work for someone else, even though I did receive the work a week late.
As I told my husband a couple weeks ago, to much laughter on his part - this is just how I roll.
(It's funny, you see, coz I have to roll to one side or the other when trying to get to sleep, or even just to get off the bed. Yes, I'm that big. I'm a beachball smuggler. I'm the Michelin man. I'm the progeny of both the Michelin man and the Oros man. I dun got FAT.)
Have I mentioned that I can't believe I have stretchmarks on my STOMACH?? I'd been so careful about that... *sigh* And they are this awful red-purplish colour. Same on my hips. Those are new, too. The hip ones have nestled in with my old stretchmarks from highschool. But, the stomach ones are breaking new ground.
I'm 37 weeks preggers today, folks. (Give or take a few days) Think of me around December 15th. They say 1st time round babies tend to hang around inside for longer. So, she may be out for xmas. Never thought I'd have a Christmas baby. Thanks a lot, Coke Fest weekend.
Showing posts with label pregnant ponderings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnant ponderings. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Maternity leave
Today is my last day at the office before a 4 month stint of facing the brutal realities of motherhood. This week has been an optimistic one. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of impending “holiday” to get your spirits up. Have I mentioned I can’t wait to get home? Ahhhhhh… To be on holiday again…
On the dark side of the coin, it seems that nausea has returned with a vengeance. And not just up chucking the content of my oesophagus, nooooo. I have that lingering nausea again, reminiscent of my first 3 months of pregnancy. I have no idea what happened to my nausea pills, I may have to invest in finding some more.
The pictures of my belly came out rather… okay. Only one was really beautiful, where the artificial light catches me just so. I look like I’m deep in joyous contemplation of the bundle of joy under my hands. Soft glow surrounds me too. I wonder if it’s a photoshop effect.
Despite me needing to have my feet up now, and resting – Next week Monday is already gonna be a full day. I have to go see the wedding photographer (We never did get our professional wedding photos, though we may still get them one day). We are gonna make an album. I have a budget and everything. I also have another obstetrician check up same day. These will become a weekly occurrence until I pop this kid, it seems. It’s a bit heavy on my (and the hubby’s, but mostly the hubby’s) pocket.
Then I also have to go see the UIF woman, to finalise my forms and get them to the Dept of Labour. I hope they will deem me worthy of getting some money. Would suck if this was all for naught.
Also, there are a bunch of little things I still need to add to the old hospital bag.
The husband and I went to my parents’ house last weekend. Yes, a 5 hour trip. My mom washed all my baby clothes for me, and we packed them in the required zip lock bags, to ensure there is a nappy, vest and an outfit in each. Well, to be fair, my mom packed everything. I just sort of watched. My mom also made me lasagne, which I asked for. The fast food places and restaurants just can’t make food the way my mom does.
Home sickness is a weird affliction.
My kid has almost more clothes than me now.
The husband has ordered a cot online. That should be here before the baby is. (We hope.)
We are still struggling with estate agents and sellers on the price of the townhouse we want. Either way, we have no idea when we will be able to move in. And, it looks like we will be in my husband’s parents’ house till quite some time after the kid is born. I don’t think this is a bad idea. At least she will be surrounded by loving family, and a support base like that is nothing to sneeze at. More hands to help feed, bathe, burp and clean. Huzzah!
I also speak to my parentals almost daily. They have confirmed that they will be here to support me for almost the whole of December, depending how bored they get. This is great news. I don’t remember much of what they said in the pre-natal classes regarding child care. At least, with my maternity leave, I will have time to read the book I have on that issue.
It seems the office scanner has taken a scanning quality nose dive. I have been unable to get decent scans of the past 2 sonars of the babbie. My apologies, curious masses. I will be putting them into my baby scrapbook, so if anyone ever comes to visit, just ask to see the scrapbook. Rest assured that it looks like a big headed baby. You can’t see much on the sonars anyway: just a big head and some appendages. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I’m still deciding on the QE. To study or not to study, to do it, or not. This will be the last time I have study leave for it. *sigh* Is it worth it?
Can’t wait to get out of here, pity about the mountain of work!
On the dark side of the coin, it seems that nausea has returned with a vengeance. And not just up chucking the content of my oesophagus, nooooo. I have that lingering nausea again, reminiscent of my first 3 months of pregnancy. I have no idea what happened to my nausea pills, I may have to invest in finding some more.
The pictures of my belly came out rather… okay. Only one was really beautiful, where the artificial light catches me just so. I look like I’m deep in joyous contemplation of the bundle of joy under my hands. Soft glow surrounds me too. I wonder if it’s a photoshop effect.
Despite me needing to have my feet up now, and resting – Next week Monday is already gonna be a full day. I have to go see the wedding photographer (We never did get our professional wedding photos, though we may still get them one day). We are gonna make an album. I have a budget and everything. I also have another obstetrician check up same day. These will become a weekly occurrence until I pop this kid, it seems. It’s a bit heavy on my (and the hubby’s, but mostly the hubby’s) pocket.
Then I also have to go see the UIF woman, to finalise my forms and get them to the Dept of Labour. I hope they will deem me worthy of getting some money. Would suck if this was all for naught.
Also, there are a bunch of little things I still need to add to the old hospital bag.
The husband and I went to my parents’ house last weekend. Yes, a 5 hour trip. My mom washed all my baby clothes for me, and we packed them in the required zip lock bags, to ensure there is a nappy, vest and an outfit in each. Well, to be fair, my mom packed everything. I just sort of watched. My mom also made me lasagne, which I asked for. The fast food places and restaurants just can’t make food the way my mom does.
Home sickness is a weird affliction.
My kid has almost more clothes than me now.
The husband has ordered a cot online. That should be here before the baby is. (We hope.)
We are still struggling with estate agents and sellers on the price of the townhouse we want. Either way, we have no idea when we will be able to move in. And, it looks like we will be in my husband’s parents’ house till quite some time after the kid is born. I don’t think this is a bad idea. At least she will be surrounded by loving family, and a support base like that is nothing to sneeze at. More hands to help feed, bathe, burp and clean. Huzzah!
I also speak to my parentals almost daily. They have confirmed that they will be here to support me for almost the whole of December, depending how bored they get. This is great news. I don’t remember much of what they said in the pre-natal classes regarding child care. At least, with my maternity leave, I will have time to read the book I have on that issue.
It seems the office scanner has taken a scanning quality nose dive. I have been unable to get decent scans of the past 2 sonars of the babbie. My apologies, curious masses. I will be putting them into my baby scrapbook, so if anyone ever comes to visit, just ask to see the scrapbook. Rest assured that it looks like a big headed baby. You can’t see much on the sonars anyway: just a big head and some appendages. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I’m still deciding on the QE. To study or not to study, to do it, or not. This will be the last time I have study leave for it. *sigh* Is it worth it?
Can’t wait to get out of here, pity about the mountain of work!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
35 weeks - So far, so good.
The house hunt is on again, in full swing. Hopefully we will have some property in our names by the end of this month. Time will tell. We signed another offer to purchase last night. The last one was unsuccessful. What the people here do not seem to realise is that the property market is in a slump.
The credit act and the global bank crash has had a profound effect on the lending practices of banks here in SA. I.e. less people can afford loans, and the banks are stricter and more loathe granting them. And, as demand for houses decreases, the supply increases. And, that, friends and (soon-to-be) neighbours, is why the general property prices have fallen.
A turn around is expected by around next year April. Some analysts argue that this is an overly optimistic view. In the meantime, people need to realise that what they paid at the beginning of the year, or 2 years prior, is not what they’re gonna get now. Back then the market was in an upward turn, fuelled by the bubble of granting home loans people can’t afford. The credit act has helped shield SA from the brunt of the credit crunch, but no one could have predicted the rise in interest rates (10 times in the last 2 years).
So, what you could afford back then, already stretching your budget to the max, in keeping up with the Joneses, has become the bane of your financial existence now.
This also explains why repossession of property has climbed. Banks have to take and auction what clients can’t afford to maintain.
It seems that the “nesting” effect is kicking into gear for me lately. I find myself organising and reorganising my meagre cupboard space. My current domain is the hubby’s room in his parents’ house. I have half the cupboard and double the drawer space.
Yesterday, when I got the call that we are gonna put in an offer to purchase a home, my imagination went just wild at the prospect of picking out colours and decorating my first ever home. This has been dampened somewhat by the news that we will in all likelihood only be able to move in at the end of January of next year.
I’m sure everything will work out in the end. Patience is a virtua.
There will be another baby scan tomorrow. I wonder what she looks like these days. Just a couple weeks before she swims out to say hi. Hope we’ll have somewhere to put her when she does!
The credit act and the global bank crash has had a profound effect on the lending practices of banks here in SA. I.e. less people can afford loans, and the banks are stricter and more loathe granting them. And, as demand for houses decreases, the supply increases. And, that, friends and (soon-to-be) neighbours, is why the general property prices have fallen.
A turn around is expected by around next year April. Some analysts argue that this is an overly optimistic view. In the meantime, people need to realise that what they paid at the beginning of the year, or 2 years prior, is not what they’re gonna get now. Back then the market was in an upward turn, fuelled by the bubble of granting home loans people can’t afford. The credit act has helped shield SA from the brunt of the credit crunch, but no one could have predicted the rise in interest rates (10 times in the last 2 years).
So, what you could afford back then, already stretching your budget to the max, in keeping up with the Joneses, has become the bane of your financial existence now.
This also explains why repossession of property has climbed. Banks have to take and auction what clients can’t afford to maintain.
It seems that the “nesting” effect is kicking into gear for me lately. I find myself organising and reorganising my meagre cupboard space. My current domain is the hubby’s room in his parents’ house. I have half the cupboard and double the drawer space.
Yesterday, when I got the call that we are gonna put in an offer to purchase a home, my imagination went just wild at the prospect of picking out colours and decorating my first ever home. This has been dampened somewhat by the news that we will in all likelihood only be able to move in at the end of January of next year.
I’m sure everything will work out in the end. Patience is a virtua.
There will be another baby scan tomorrow. I wonder what she looks like these days. Just a couple weeks before she swims out to say hi. Hope we’ll have somewhere to put her when she does!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Insomnia
What I wouldn’t give for the ability to sleep all the way through the night.
I suppose this is a prep for when the kid is here. Maybe I’m supposed to grow empathy for the little alien. It’s not like she will be able to avoid needing to make bathroom visits during the night. My bladder may be small, but hers is minute. And who can sleep with a nappy full of excretions?
It’s more than just the quadruple nightly visits to the bathroom. These mornings, in the wee hours, I wake up and just can’t get back to sleep. Added to this, getting to sleep at night, despite severe fatigue, is also quite a feat. There is much tossing and turning. Well – slow boulder-like rolling from side to side.
I’ve tried the pillows thing between my legs; under my belly, under my back. Nothing seems to work. At least I do get a few hours sleep per night. But, I wake up feeling tired every morning. And, this feeling persists during the day.
I am now around 34 weeks preggers.
There are still 6 weeks to go. That’s a month and a half. From what I understand, these symptoms and afflictions will only become aggravated as time goes on. I also find that driving is not so easy anymore. Sitting at my desk, is likewise not so easy. The belly seems to be in the way most of the time now.
Carrying my PC bag is also becoming more difficult as the days progress. Staying awake at work is not easy. Couple that with my shortness of breath, due to a baby filling up the space where my lungs used to work. I understand the need for maternity leave during the last month of work now.
I wonder if upping my natural sugar intake would help with this feeling of listlessness. Maybe it really is just a sleep thing. I suppose I’ll just have to wait it out. In the meantime, I could get some books to read, to keep me occupied for those sleepless mornings.
In those timeless words, uttered by Faithless: “I can’t get no sleep.”
I suppose this is a prep for when the kid is here. Maybe I’m supposed to grow empathy for the little alien. It’s not like she will be able to avoid needing to make bathroom visits during the night. My bladder may be small, but hers is minute. And who can sleep with a nappy full of excretions?
It’s more than just the quadruple nightly visits to the bathroom. These mornings, in the wee hours, I wake up and just can’t get back to sleep. Added to this, getting to sleep at night, despite severe fatigue, is also quite a feat. There is much tossing and turning. Well – slow boulder-like rolling from side to side.
I’ve tried the pillows thing between my legs; under my belly, under my back. Nothing seems to work. At least I do get a few hours sleep per night. But, I wake up feeling tired every morning. And, this feeling persists during the day.
I am now around 34 weeks preggers.
There are still 6 weeks to go. That’s a month and a half. From what I understand, these symptoms and afflictions will only become aggravated as time goes on. I also find that driving is not so easy anymore. Sitting at my desk, is likewise not so easy. The belly seems to be in the way most of the time now.
Carrying my PC bag is also becoming more difficult as the days progress. Staying awake at work is not easy. Couple that with my shortness of breath, due to a baby filling up the space where my lungs used to work. I understand the need for maternity leave during the last month of work now.
I wonder if upping my natural sugar intake would help with this feeling of listlessness. Maybe it really is just a sleep thing. I suppose I’ll just have to wait it out. In the meantime, I could get some books to read, to keep me occupied for those sleepless mornings.
In those timeless words, uttered by Faithless: “I can’t get no sleep.”
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Essings-blay and being ateful-gray
It often happens that one is blind to something obvious in your life, until it is pointed out.
This happens to me more than I’d like to admit.
Last night, we had ante-natal class. Another natural birthing process (no drugs this time) was screened. Yikes, okay.
To be blunt, I am terrified of the big D Day. I am not a fan of pain. I mean, I don’t know if my threshold is high or low. I mean, some things just hurt me more than others, I guess.
For example, when I need to have blood taken from me, they can never find a vein and have to poke me up to 4 times and scratch around in the veins. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s not like I cry.
When I used to leak, before the pregnancy, I would have to drug myself out before the pain got too bad. There were 2 instances in my life when I didn’t have drugs or access to drugs when I started leaking. I was pale, shaking, foetal position, on the bed, in a trance of pain. Oh yeah, I’m also slightly anaemic.
They do say you fear more that which you have already experienced than something unknown.
Maybe I’m worried for nothing. Maybe the birthing process won’t be so bad, depending on the quality of the drugs I will be knocked out with. I can only hope.
I am lucky because I have a good husband. No, not just good – GREAT. On the upper zenith of awesomeness. When asked if he was gonna be there at the birthing process, he answered the ante-natal lady that he will be there if his wife wants him to, or not – depending on what she needs.
I’m said wife.
Ante-natal lady’s response was then: “Your husband really loves you.”
To which I thought – yes. Yes, he does. *Insert goofy smile here*
On an even lighter note, my baby is now making footprints inside my belly. I can feel her little feet and little hands, and distinguish them from each other now. There is a foot pressing on my left upper belly as I type; very insistent. I wonder if she has enough space in there. I am, after all, a little person.
There is so much in this life to be grateful for, especially when you look at the world news; credit crunch; hurricanes striking leaving people homeless. Yeah, people are fighting in politics right now, but at least there is still a measure of free speech. No one’s been shot for their opinion *yet*, as far as I know. *touch wood*
Six weeks to go before D Day. Healthy baby, healthy mom. Welcoming environment for baby. She has outfits, lotions and potions for when she emerges from her amniotic water bath. I’ll be delivering in a private hospital with a very experienced obstetrician. Maternity leave starts in 2 weeks. My husband is supportive and there for me every step of the way.
Yup, life is good.
This happens to me more than I’d like to admit.
Last night, we had ante-natal class. Another natural birthing process (no drugs this time) was screened. Yikes, okay.
To be blunt, I am terrified of the big D Day. I am not a fan of pain. I mean, I don’t know if my threshold is high or low. I mean, some things just hurt me more than others, I guess.
For example, when I need to have blood taken from me, they can never find a vein and have to poke me up to 4 times and scratch around in the veins. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s not like I cry.
When I used to leak, before the pregnancy, I would have to drug myself out before the pain got too bad. There were 2 instances in my life when I didn’t have drugs or access to drugs when I started leaking. I was pale, shaking, foetal position, on the bed, in a trance of pain. Oh yeah, I’m also slightly anaemic.
They do say you fear more that which you have already experienced than something unknown.
Maybe I’m worried for nothing. Maybe the birthing process won’t be so bad, depending on the quality of the drugs I will be knocked out with. I can only hope.
I am lucky because I have a good husband. No, not just good – GREAT. On the upper zenith of awesomeness. When asked if he was gonna be there at the birthing process, he answered the ante-natal lady that he will be there if his wife wants him to, or not – depending on what she needs.
I’m said wife.
Ante-natal lady’s response was then: “Your husband really loves you.”
To which I thought – yes. Yes, he does. *Insert goofy smile here*
On an even lighter note, my baby is now making footprints inside my belly. I can feel her little feet and little hands, and distinguish them from each other now. There is a foot pressing on my left upper belly as I type; very insistent. I wonder if she has enough space in there. I am, after all, a little person.
There is so much in this life to be grateful for, especially when you look at the world news; credit crunch; hurricanes striking leaving people homeless. Yeah, people are fighting in politics right now, but at least there is still a measure of free speech. No one’s been shot for their opinion *yet*, as far as I know. *touch wood*
Six weeks to go before D Day. Healthy baby, healthy mom. Welcoming environment for baby. She has outfits, lotions and potions for when she emerges from her amniotic water bath. I’ll be delivering in a private hospital with a very experienced obstetrician. Maternity leave starts in 2 weeks. My husband is supportive and there for me every step of the way.
Yup, life is good.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Moving parts
Last night, I experienced yet another perception change.
The nurse at the ante-natal class was talking about the dangers of not feeling any foetal movement, and how we pregnant ladies must be aware of the movement, or more specifically – lack thereof.
She further intoned that this is a very special time in our lives. We should cherish it. As it will probably only come around once or twice in our lives. (Three if we are brave). Never before and never again will we ever be this close to another human being.
I have tried to be aware of the acrobat inside me. She still somersaults, and punches and kicks. At some point soon, once she settles, I should be able to make an educated guess regarding where her head is positioned and where her feet are. Towards the end, I may even see little foot prints and handprints bulging my insides.
Last night / this morning, I had an awful nightmare. Then, I couldn’t sleep. This morning, I can’t remember the details, but I remember that it was awful.
In the tub this morning, as I went belly up to enjoy what little warmth I could, my baby seemed to be rolling around in my stomach. The nurse told us to talk to the uterus-bound kids. I don’t really have much to say to her. “How’s it hanging?”
** sigh **
I’m just tired. It’s not even that I’m okay in the morning and sleepy from 11am anymore. I wake up tired, and stay that way all day. By lunch I wanna crawl into bed. This can’t be right. Maybe maternity leave will be just the thing.
Overheard: “First time poppers usually get their babies a week or 2 early.”
So, why haven’t I read this in a book somewhere?
The nurse at the ante-natal class was talking about the dangers of not feeling any foetal movement, and how we pregnant ladies must be aware of the movement, or more specifically – lack thereof.
She further intoned that this is a very special time in our lives. We should cherish it. As it will probably only come around once or twice in our lives. (Three if we are brave). Never before and never again will we ever be this close to another human being.
I have tried to be aware of the acrobat inside me. She still somersaults, and punches and kicks. At some point soon, once she settles, I should be able to make an educated guess regarding where her head is positioned and where her feet are. Towards the end, I may even see little foot prints and handprints bulging my insides.
Last night / this morning, I had an awful nightmare. Then, I couldn’t sleep. This morning, I can’t remember the details, but I remember that it was awful.
In the tub this morning, as I went belly up to enjoy what little warmth I could, my baby seemed to be rolling around in my stomach. The nurse told us to talk to the uterus-bound kids. I don’t really have much to say to her. “How’s it hanging?”
** sigh **
I’m just tired. It’s not even that I’m okay in the morning and sleepy from 11am anymore. I wake up tired, and stay that way all day. By lunch I wanna crawl into bed. This can’t be right. Maybe maternity leave will be just the thing.
Overheard: “First time poppers usually get their babies a week or 2 early.”
So, why haven’t I read this in a book somewhere?
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Ready, set, POP!
In just a couple weeks, I’m gonna be somebody’s mom.
I am now 31 weeks pregnant. My stomach is huge, my fingers and feet swell. I can’t stand or sit for long. And when I deign to stand, I have urgent water-passing urges. Sleeping all the way through the night is something of the past. Lying on my back or stomach are likewise, stuff the past is made of. I am the Michelin man.
I have made an appointment to have my large body photographed. It was in one of my “free stuff” packages – A voucher for professional pregnancy pics. I’d really like the husband to be there, so I will have to move it, as the initial date clashes with exams. Ah well. I wonder what I should wear…
Yesterday I had water aerobics again. It is only for 45 minutes every time. And yet, when I get out of the swimming pool I have this overwhelming urge to sleep, and a deeply rooted tiredness, saturating my bones and muscle.
My weight remains stable. For the sake of my tame hippo physique, I hope that the better part of the weight gain has now come to an end. I’m pretty sure the aching feet is a direct result of the weight I now lug around with me. Next year this time, however, I will be bikini ready. Watch this space.
I am now once again office bound at work; which rocks, by the way. I am unfazed by the heat wave going on outside, as there is an awesome piece of air conditioning equipment in this little office. The water cooler and bathrooms are mere metres away. And, the support at the office has been wonderful. I am yet to be reprimanded for anything. I have only received praise. And this, in turn, has made me want to work all the more harder, be better.
Last night, I also worked on my scrapbook. But, I soon realised, if I am to have continuity in it, I will need to have more pix printed; especially of my weekly expanding stomach. I have been taking pix of myself sporadically. So, I am quite eager to arrange them by date to see the growth. (Yes, a benign tumour fills my gut!)
A side effect of the family I married into involves being aware of local politics now. Things are heating up on the home front. I wonder what is going to happen next. So, these days, I watch the daily news, and read the papers, especially the online ones. I read what the columnists have to say. (Then I am briefly appalled by some of the language, spelling errors and even swearing I’ve come across; shocking to say the least!) Unfortunately, I have not been privy to any insider info, as it were. But, such is life.
The parentals were here this past weekend. It was awesome. I went baby stuff shopping with my mom. We got some babygro’s, vests, blankets and towels. Anything and everything a little babbie and her mom would need. I also got all the creams, lotions and potions. I think we spent around 2 and a half grand in total. Yikes. And, the kid isn’t even here yet. On the upside, I can now pack for the hospital. After all, I have 9 weeks till D day… Time to get busy.
The jury isn’t out yet on the method of poppage that will be used. I would like to go the path of least resistance and pain, as far as possible. Time and circumstance will tell.
May I please request an epidural for the epidural?
I am now 31 weeks pregnant. My stomach is huge, my fingers and feet swell. I can’t stand or sit for long. And when I deign to stand, I have urgent water-passing urges. Sleeping all the way through the night is something of the past. Lying on my back or stomach are likewise, stuff the past is made of. I am the Michelin man.
I have made an appointment to have my large body photographed. It was in one of my “free stuff” packages – A voucher for professional pregnancy pics. I’d really like the husband to be there, so I will have to move it, as the initial date clashes with exams. Ah well. I wonder what I should wear…
Yesterday I had water aerobics again. It is only for 45 minutes every time. And yet, when I get out of the swimming pool I have this overwhelming urge to sleep, and a deeply rooted tiredness, saturating my bones and muscle.
My weight remains stable. For the sake of my tame hippo physique, I hope that the better part of the weight gain has now come to an end. I’m pretty sure the aching feet is a direct result of the weight I now lug around with me. Next year this time, however, I will be bikini ready. Watch this space.
I am now once again office bound at work; which rocks, by the way. I am unfazed by the heat wave going on outside, as there is an awesome piece of air conditioning equipment in this little office. The water cooler and bathrooms are mere metres away. And, the support at the office has been wonderful. I am yet to be reprimanded for anything. I have only received praise. And this, in turn, has made me want to work all the more harder, be better.
Last night, I also worked on my scrapbook. But, I soon realised, if I am to have continuity in it, I will need to have more pix printed; especially of my weekly expanding stomach. I have been taking pix of myself sporadically. So, I am quite eager to arrange them by date to see the growth. (Yes, a benign tumour fills my gut!)
A side effect of the family I married into involves being aware of local politics now. Things are heating up on the home front. I wonder what is going to happen next. So, these days, I watch the daily news, and read the papers, especially the online ones. I read what the columnists have to say. (Then I am briefly appalled by some of the language, spelling errors and even swearing I’ve come across; shocking to say the least!) Unfortunately, I have not been privy to any insider info, as it were. But, such is life.
The parentals were here this past weekend. It was awesome. I went baby stuff shopping with my mom. We got some babygro’s, vests, blankets and towels. Anything and everything a little babbie and her mom would need. I also got all the creams, lotions and potions. I think we spent around 2 and a half grand in total. Yikes. And, the kid isn’t even here yet. On the upside, I can now pack for the hospital. After all, I have 9 weeks till D day… Time to get busy.
The jury isn’t out yet on the method of poppage that will be used. I would like to go the path of least resistance and pain, as far as possible. Time and circumstance will tell.
May I please request an epidural for the epidural?
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Another day in the life…
There are a few joys to being with child. Bear with me as I attempt to list some of them. Mkay?
For one thing, there are a lot of “pregnancy packs”. This translates to “free stuff”. I’ve gotten some interesting things from various institutions. For example, I went to the hospital yesterday to book a bed for D Day. Inside the “congrats-you’re-gonna-be-someone’s-mom” package there was a pregnancy diary. It’s quite cute. Pity they didn’t give it to me in the 1st month.
Other pregnancy packs I’ve received included vitamins I wasn’t sure I should be taking. A nappy. Some sweets. Bum cream (for baby). A small tub of Vaseline. No clothes though, which I think is a bit of a pity.
Another awesome plus is the lessened guilt when I eat. I mean, I’ve been eating more veggies and fruit lately, drinking more water. So, when I have the odd burger, it’s okay, you know – coz next year, the diet and exercise Nazi-like regime is back on in earnest.
The hubby and hugs that come with him aren’t too shabby either. But, that’s not necessarily a pregnancy thing.
I don’t know if the enormous mammories is a plus for me. It’s just been expensive upsizing my undies. I preferred my C cups, kthnx. I hope I will retain some firmness after all the offspring are off the boobie feedings.
There is some attention.
Personally, I’m hoping for more free stuff. This baby having thing is a seriously expensive endeavour. Sigh – medical bills.
This does not hold true for everyone, but my skin has cleared up nicely. Hormonal balance is a good thing.
Then there are the baby scans. To those I haven’t mentioned it yet, it was SOO CUUTE!! When I was in the waiting room at the doctor’s office yesterday, my baby was kicking me like mad. I think it may have been the guavas I had for breakfast – very sweet. Every time I eat something sweet, 15mins later, baby is awake and kicking. Either she likes the sweet stuff, or she doesn’t. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Both her parents love sweet stuff. So… I’m not too worried.
ANYHOO, so, when I get onto the table for the scan, the doctor puts the gel on my now ginormous stomach. Onto the screen pops black, white and grey images of the tenant in my tummy. It seems all that kicking had tired her out, coz the first thing she does, is to give a big yawn. Then she starts nomming on her tiny little fist. It was SOO ADORABLE. I have a scan picture.
It seems that one can even make videos of the scan visits. I’m gonna enquire about that for the next visit. Which will be on hubby’s birthday – remember remember the 5th of November.
My baby has a little button nose. And, she has tiny little lips; proportionally bigger lips than mine. Maybe we should call her Angelina … NAH.
Jury isn’t out yet on the baby name we will be ending up with. It’s a large responsibility that – choosing the name someone will be stuck with for the rest of their life. Ah well. I suppose I will have made a choice by the time she pops out.
I still am yet to experience any serious cons to this pregnancy. It’s been mostly pros. Guess I’m lucky that way.
For one thing, there are a lot of “pregnancy packs”. This translates to “free stuff”. I’ve gotten some interesting things from various institutions. For example, I went to the hospital yesterday to book a bed for D Day. Inside the “congrats-you’re-gonna-be-someone’s-mom” package there was a pregnancy diary. It’s quite cute. Pity they didn’t give it to me in the 1st month.
Other pregnancy packs I’ve received included vitamins I wasn’t sure I should be taking. A nappy. Some sweets. Bum cream (for baby). A small tub of Vaseline. No clothes though, which I think is a bit of a pity.
Another awesome plus is the lessened guilt when I eat. I mean, I’ve been eating more veggies and fruit lately, drinking more water. So, when I have the odd burger, it’s okay, you know – coz next year, the diet and exercise Nazi-like regime is back on in earnest.
The hubby and hugs that come with him aren’t too shabby either. But, that’s not necessarily a pregnancy thing.
I don’t know if the enormous mammories is a plus for me. It’s just been expensive upsizing my undies. I preferred my C cups, kthnx. I hope I will retain some firmness after all the offspring are off the boobie feedings.
There is some attention.
Personally, I’m hoping for more free stuff. This baby having thing is a seriously expensive endeavour. Sigh – medical bills.
This does not hold true for everyone, but my skin has cleared up nicely. Hormonal balance is a good thing.
Then there are the baby scans. To those I haven’t mentioned it yet, it was SOO CUUTE!! When I was in the waiting room at the doctor’s office yesterday, my baby was kicking me like mad. I think it may have been the guavas I had for breakfast – very sweet. Every time I eat something sweet, 15mins later, baby is awake and kicking. Either she likes the sweet stuff, or she doesn’t. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Both her parents love sweet stuff. So… I’m not too worried.
ANYHOO, so, when I get onto the table for the scan, the doctor puts the gel on my now ginormous stomach. Onto the screen pops black, white and grey images of the tenant in my tummy. It seems all that kicking had tired her out, coz the first thing she does, is to give a big yawn. Then she starts nomming on her tiny little fist. It was SOO ADORABLE. I have a scan picture.
It seems that one can even make videos of the scan visits. I’m gonna enquire about that for the next visit. Which will be on hubby’s birthday – remember remember the 5th of November.
My baby has a little button nose. And, she has tiny little lips; proportionally bigger lips than mine. Maybe we should call her Angelina … NAH.
Jury isn’t out yet on the baby name we will be ending up with. It’s a large responsibility that – choosing the name someone will be stuck with for the rest of their life. Ah well. I suppose I will have made a choice by the time she pops out.
I still am yet to experience any serious cons to this pregnancy. It’s been mostly pros. Guess I’m lucky that way.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Week 30
Another milestone!
What’s it like to be 30 weeks preggers?
Every time I drink a beverage these days, I seem to get nauseous for a while. (To such a degree, that I have actually made a couple hasty trips to the throne room lately, just in case.) We are in the final stages of this pregnancy, ladies and gents. 10 more weeks to go. I have gained an understanding of what is meant with the “can-we-get-this-over-with-already” attitude most pregnant women will experience at some point or another.
For one, I’m tired of being huge. The beached whale effect is not so awesome. I have trouble getting up and rolling over. It’s always accompanied by much effort on my part. And, there isn’t always someone around to help me.
On the upside, my weight seems to have stabilised a bit again. I hope this will remain the case over the next couple weeks. I can’t afford to get much bigger or heavier. I’m a tiny person. I already feel like I’m gonna fall over half the time.
On Wednesday, I am going for my next ante-natal visit. I’m very excited. Not only will my paranoia about foetal movement be alleviated a bit, but we may be able to see her face more clearly this time. I’m not thrilled about the cost, but I suppose this is a necessary evil. The husband said he will be there, so I feel much better about that as well.
Another thing that is getting to me is the fatigue. I am tired most of the time. Not that I’m all that active. This overwhelming urge to sleep the days away is not so welcome in a corporative setting. People have been very understanding, surprisingly. But, I still wish I only needed to be here in the mornings. By 11am I’m ready to head back to bed on most days.
Including this week, I have 6 more weeks till maternity leave. 10 more weeks until I pop. Time is dragging asp again.
Look out for new baby scans by the end of this week. It’s sonar time again! ^_^
As I told the husband the other day: overall, being preggers isn't so bad. I mean, my eating is a lot more guilt free. People are super nice to me and do things for me more freely. There has been much undrestanding. And, the nausea isn't so bad. It could have been a lot worse. I don't really suffer from most of the ailments my pregnancy books talk about. So, I'm lucky in that sense. There's the paid maternity leave, and the hope for a UIF payment as well!
So, don't get me wrong, friends. It's all worth it when you look at those tiny hands and feet on the screen. Or, see that little face and hear that little heartbeat. I'm sure parenting is gonna be very rewarding. She is a cute little thing already. And, she isn't even out yet.
I'm gonna be somebody's mom.
*awe*
What’s it like to be 30 weeks preggers?
Every time I drink a beverage these days, I seem to get nauseous for a while. (To such a degree, that I have actually made a couple hasty trips to the throne room lately, just in case.) We are in the final stages of this pregnancy, ladies and gents. 10 more weeks to go. I have gained an understanding of what is meant with the “can-we-get-this-over-with-already” attitude most pregnant women will experience at some point or another.
For one, I’m tired of being huge. The beached whale effect is not so awesome. I have trouble getting up and rolling over. It’s always accompanied by much effort on my part. And, there isn’t always someone around to help me.
On the upside, my weight seems to have stabilised a bit again. I hope this will remain the case over the next couple weeks. I can’t afford to get much bigger or heavier. I’m a tiny person. I already feel like I’m gonna fall over half the time.
On Wednesday, I am going for my next ante-natal visit. I’m very excited. Not only will my paranoia about foetal movement be alleviated a bit, but we may be able to see her face more clearly this time. I’m not thrilled about the cost, but I suppose this is a necessary evil. The husband said he will be there, so I feel much better about that as well.
Another thing that is getting to me is the fatigue. I am tired most of the time. Not that I’m all that active. This overwhelming urge to sleep the days away is not so welcome in a corporative setting. People have been very understanding, surprisingly. But, I still wish I only needed to be here in the mornings. By 11am I’m ready to head back to bed on most days.
Including this week, I have 6 more weeks till maternity leave. 10 more weeks until I pop. Time is dragging asp again.
Look out for new baby scans by the end of this week. It’s sonar time again! ^_^
As I told the husband the other day: overall, being preggers isn't so bad. I mean, my eating is a lot more guilt free. People are super nice to me and do things for me more freely. There has been much undrestanding. And, the nausea isn't so bad. It could have been a lot worse. I don't really suffer from most of the ailments my pregnancy books talk about. So, I'm lucky in that sense. There's the paid maternity leave, and the hope for a UIF payment as well!
So, don't get me wrong, friends. It's all worth it when you look at those tiny hands and feet on the screen. Or, see that little face and hear that little heartbeat. I'm sure parenting is gonna be very rewarding. She is a cute little thing already. And, she isn't even out yet.
I'm gonna be somebody's mom.
*awe*
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Pregnant pause
Ravaged by medical costs, this month is turning out to be a bit on the thin side, other than my (34%) body fat. Sigh. It seems that pay day just can’t get here soon enough.
Tax season is also here. I’m anxiously awaiting my tax return. I expect that I will have a huge payment to make, because my prior employer did not deduct the tax from travel claims received. About R5,000. Last year it was a Christmas surprise, and all my holiday money went with it. This year, I am prepared.
Also, we had our first ante-natal class last night. Somehow, I got the times wrong, and we were half an hour late. Somehow, we didn’t miss much. It was about breastfeeding, and the first couple days after birth. I don’t know if I’m gonna be having more kids, if the stuff about bursting, broken and bleeding nipples is true. But, I have no reason to doubt the nurse who presents the class.
I’ve been going to gym every now and again. I saw online that the ideal workout should not exceed 145 heartbeats per minute for us pregnant ladies. I usually exercise at 120. More than that makes me feel like I’m gonna die or something. So, yeah.
I’ve also learned that the best kind of exercise for me to get, would be water aerobics. Luckily, the gym does offer these classes. Unluckily, all 3 sets of my pre-pregnancy bikinis no longer fit. So, I’m gonna have to make a plan. I look forward to this class, though. The instructor seems friendly and well versed with this stuff. She has had some babies of her own. Her tips and knowledge have been invaluable.
Next year, once I’ve popped, I’m gonna be getting back into shape, post haste. I just don’t wanna be too hard on myself now regarding my weight. But, I can’t help but feel I’ve gone to the dark side of obesity. My pre-pregnancy BMI was about 20, which bordered on under-weight. Now, it’s 29,oh-my-god-30-is-obese-and-I’m-decimal-points-away-from-it!
I’ve gained 20 kilograms since I got pregnant, and I’m not even in my 3rd trimester yet. That can’t be good. My husband said I shouldn’t worry so much; I’m too vain to become a fatty. ^_^ (That’s not a direct quote or anything, just a paraphrase.) To myself, I don’t look grotesquely obese, but the indicators are worrying me.
I’m solidly booked on work for the next 9 weeks. My maternity leave starts on the 17th of November. After hearing about 3 – 4 hour breastfeeding frequency last night, I’m having serious misgivings about my ability to pass QE next year. It’s gonna be … nigh impossible, despite having all that time off. The story goes that I will be physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted trying to take care of my little ninja.
I have 9 more weeks of work, then I’m off. I can’t wait.
Post script
Just a note to all the survivors of 9/11; It’s been 7 years. We pray for you all.
Tax season is also here. I’m anxiously awaiting my tax return. I expect that I will have a huge payment to make, because my prior employer did not deduct the tax from travel claims received. About R5,000. Last year it was a Christmas surprise, and all my holiday money went with it. This year, I am prepared.
Also, we had our first ante-natal class last night. Somehow, I got the times wrong, and we were half an hour late. Somehow, we didn’t miss much. It was about breastfeeding, and the first couple days after birth. I don’t know if I’m gonna be having more kids, if the stuff about bursting, broken and bleeding nipples is true. But, I have no reason to doubt the nurse who presents the class.
I’ve been going to gym every now and again. I saw online that the ideal workout should not exceed 145 heartbeats per minute for us pregnant ladies. I usually exercise at 120. More than that makes me feel like I’m gonna die or something. So, yeah.
I’ve also learned that the best kind of exercise for me to get, would be water aerobics. Luckily, the gym does offer these classes. Unluckily, all 3 sets of my pre-pregnancy bikinis no longer fit. So, I’m gonna have to make a plan. I look forward to this class, though. The instructor seems friendly and well versed with this stuff. She has had some babies of her own. Her tips and knowledge have been invaluable.
Next year, once I’ve popped, I’m gonna be getting back into shape, post haste. I just don’t wanna be too hard on myself now regarding my weight. But, I can’t help but feel I’ve gone to the dark side of obesity. My pre-pregnancy BMI was about 20, which bordered on under-weight. Now, it’s 29,oh-my-god-30-is-obese-and-I’m-decimal-points-away-from-it!
I’ve gained 20 kilograms since I got pregnant, and I’m not even in my 3rd trimester yet. That can’t be good. My husband said I shouldn’t worry so much; I’m too vain to become a fatty. ^_^ (That’s not a direct quote or anything, just a paraphrase.) To myself, I don’t look grotesquely obese, but the indicators are worrying me.
I’m solidly booked on work for the next 9 weeks. My maternity leave starts on the 17th of November. After hearing about 3 – 4 hour breastfeeding frequency last night, I’m having serious misgivings about my ability to pass QE next year. It’s gonna be … nigh impossible, despite having all that time off. The story goes that I will be physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted trying to take care of my little ninja.
I have 9 more weeks of work, then I’m off. I can’t wait.
Post script
Just a note to all the survivors of 9/11; It’s been 7 years. We pray for you all.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
When in Rome
There is a problem with the interwebz here. It malingers in and out of consciousness. This has become very annoying.
News on the pregnancy: I went to the gym last night. No no – not to exercise, goodness forbid! Just to check things out and see what is available at what price.
I pointed to my stomach, and intoned, in my best Captain Obvious Voice, “Highly Pregnant.” The overly excited sales person / “consultant” then started going off on a tangent about how yoga is very good for pregnant ladies, in fact they have a class on now, and at this special special rate, you could join now, at as very little as so much per session, or so much per month. All you have to do is sign away your immortal soul and pledge eternal allegiance to the art of “body sculpting”.
I thanked him for his time and said I’d see them all next year. You know, after I’d popped the kid. My budget just would not allow for anymore stretching. It’s holding on for dear life as is.
Lately, the “round ligament pain” which is “completely natural” and “expected”, has been bothering me immensely; especially at night. It makes for difficulty in lifting my legs, walking about, getting up, getting comfortable, and so on. It’s not pain exactly. It’s just a sort of acute pressure in the groin area. The books say this is caused / aggravated by long periods of sitting (I have a desk job), or standing.
Nothing can be done about it. I’m supposed to lie down, or take a nap when this happens. I wonder how my manager would feel about that.
I’ve noticed that going for frequent walks do help a little; but, not much. And, walking for exercise after work doesn’t do it for me, because I’m convinced I need frequent bathroom breaks. Not so kewl when one is in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, my gym wear don’t fit me at all anymore. I’d have to get 2 new pairs of XL pants. Sigh. I didn’t expect my high knee to enlarge along with my now bulbous stomach.
I know I’m supposed to be exercising, but even my doctor told me joining the gym now would be a colossal fruitless and wasteful adventure. A waste of money: in other more eloquent words. I’m supposed to walk. The books say I’m supposed to stretch and do light weights, and this and that exercise.
Alls I knows is, once this kid pops, I’ll be back at the gym, paying for torture.
News on the pregnancy: I went to the gym last night. No no – not to exercise, goodness forbid! Just to check things out and see what is available at what price.
I pointed to my stomach, and intoned, in my best Captain Obvious Voice, “Highly Pregnant.” The overly excited sales person / “consultant” then started going off on a tangent about how yoga is very good for pregnant ladies, in fact they have a class on now, and at this special special rate, you could join now, at as very little as so much per session, or so much per month. All you have to do is sign away your immortal soul and pledge eternal allegiance to the art of “body sculpting”.
I thanked him for his time and said I’d see them all next year. You know, after I’d popped the kid. My budget just would not allow for anymore stretching. It’s holding on for dear life as is.
Lately, the “round ligament pain” which is “completely natural” and “expected”, has been bothering me immensely; especially at night. It makes for difficulty in lifting my legs, walking about, getting up, getting comfortable, and so on. It’s not pain exactly. It’s just a sort of acute pressure in the groin area. The books say this is caused / aggravated by long periods of sitting (I have a desk job), or standing.
Nothing can be done about it. I’m supposed to lie down, or take a nap when this happens. I wonder how my manager would feel about that.
I’ve noticed that going for frequent walks do help a little; but, not much. And, walking for exercise after work doesn’t do it for me, because I’m convinced I need frequent bathroom breaks. Not so kewl when one is in the middle of nowhere.
Besides, my gym wear don’t fit me at all anymore. I’d have to get 2 new pairs of XL pants. Sigh. I didn’t expect my high knee to enlarge along with my now bulbous stomach.
I know I’m supposed to be exercising, but even my doctor told me joining the gym now would be a colossal fruitless and wasteful adventure. A waste of money: in other more eloquent words. I’m supposed to walk. The books say I’m supposed to stretch and do light weights, and this and that exercise.
Alls I knows is, once this kid pops, I’ll be back at the gym, paying for torture.
Nefarious wiles
So, the question posed today, class, is that of the nature of self esteem, and the possible aggravation of negativity when pregnancy hormones are introduced.
How much of this is the baby’s fault? And, how much of this was merely an underlying affliction, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike?
Well, first and foremost, no fault lies with the young babbie – She didn’t ask to be brought here, she was merely the fastest swimmer in the bunch. Kudos!
Based on my personal history, and what I know of myself, I’d say, this was probably a malignant tumour just waiting to be awoken.
So, self esteem: or more accurately, the lack thereof.
I have an existential query.
How much is too much, and how much is not enough?
In my humble experience, when in a boy/girl relationship, certain things happen in a certain sequence without fail. Yes, classmates, a pattern has emerged.
In the amorous beginnings, all is well with the world, romance is rife, and the relationship a prolific breeding-ground (if you’ll excuse the implied pun) of love, lust and well-being.
That lasts a while; a couple months, in fact.
But, somewhere the balance of attention–seeking and attention-needed go badly afoul. There is a fine balance to be kept, after all; elusive equilibrium.
I am the mad smotherer.
The more I am pushed away, the more I smother. And, at some point, it all becomes unbearable.
I wonder what the emotional dynamics of this would illustrate.
Sometimes people need time apart to miss each other. Sometimes, people need to have separate lives, and interests – just to keep the mystery alive.
I want to show love and receive love. But, how much is too much? How much is not enough? Is it ethical to act in a certain way to get a certain result, if said actions do not reflect the true feelings behind them?
Mostly, I just feel fat.
And, it’s not his fault.
Relationships are hard.
How much of this is the baby’s fault? And, how much of this was merely an underlying affliction, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike?
Well, first and foremost, no fault lies with the young babbie – She didn’t ask to be brought here, she was merely the fastest swimmer in the bunch. Kudos!
Based on my personal history, and what I know of myself, I’d say, this was probably a malignant tumour just waiting to be awoken.
So, self esteem: or more accurately, the lack thereof.
I have an existential query.
How much is too much, and how much is not enough?
In my humble experience, when in a boy/girl relationship, certain things happen in a certain sequence without fail. Yes, classmates, a pattern has emerged.
In the amorous beginnings, all is well with the world, romance is rife, and the relationship a prolific breeding-ground (if you’ll excuse the implied pun) of love, lust and well-being.
That lasts a while; a couple months, in fact.
But, somewhere the balance of attention–seeking and attention-needed go badly afoul. There is a fine balance to be kept, after all; elusive equilibrium.
I am the mad smotherer.
The more I am pushed away, the more I smother. And, at some point, it all becomes unbearable.
I wonder what the emotional dynamics of this would illustrate.
Sometimes people need time apart to miss each other. Sometimes, people need to have separate lives, and interests – just to keep the mystery alive.
I want to show love and receive love. But, how much is too much? How much is not enough? Is it ethical to act in a certain way to get a certain result, if said actions do not reflect the true feelings behind them?
Mostly, I just feel fat.
And, it’s not his fault.
Relationships are hard.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Brainoscopy
It’s been less than fun blogging lately.
I’ve read in my various pregnancy books and magazines that it often happens that women become feeble-minded / absentminded / forgetful during the pregnancy. I find this holds true.
However, I’m the kind of person who always knows where her keys are (unless they’ve been hi-jacked by he who will not be named, but is very much loved). So, that’s not where the atrophy of mind has struck.
It’s been a source of much frustration for me – verbiage. I can’t seem to put my brain on a word. There I’d be, having a perfectly fine conversation with the hubby, knowing what I want to say, and just abruptly halting. “What is that word…? Man! If I can just remember that word… AAARRRGGH!!”
On the upside, these blank outs are temporary and I eventually manage to get the word off the tip of my brain and into the conversation. Thank goodness for that.
Now, I must indicate at this juncture that English, although it has now become my home language by marriage, is in fact my second language. I still speak Afrikaans with my parents, brother, friends, at work. It is more prevalent for this to occur when speaking the language of the Brits, than my home language.
I wonder if there have been studies to this effect.
Regardless, this is just one more of the many many varied quirks of being high up the pole.
Typing up a blog post is less than exhilirating when one can't remember a word, or have a certain tone in mind, but can't get it out in writing. As you may have noticed, this post... sigh. Not one of my favourites, but I felt I should say something.
I am now 24 weeks into this thing. With the science available today, if my baby was a premie (pre-mature) at this stage, she will more than likely still survive with minimal problems. … That said – I should also add that, survival is linked to the quality care baby will get; also how soon that care can be administrated.
I wonder if science can save my brain...
Somewhat unrelated:
The hunt for the perfect name is still on. We have sort of decided that the initials E.L.L would be charming. We have a middle name down. And the surname is self evident. So any suggestions for English E-names would be welcome. Hell, maybe even some Afrikaans ones. The polls are open. Don’t be shy.
I’ve read in my various pregnancy books and magazines that it often happens that women become feeble-minded / absentminded / forgetful during the pregnancy. I find this holds true.
However, I’m the kind of person who always knows where her keys are (unless they’ve been hi-jacked by he who will not be named, but is very much loved). So, that’s not where the atrophy of mind has struck.
It’s been a source of much frustration for me – verbiage. I can’t seem to put my brain on a word. There I’d be, having a perfectly fine conversation with the hubby, knowing what I want to say, and just abruptly halting. “What is that word…? Man! If I can just remember that word… AAARRRGGH!!”
On the upside, these blank outs are temporary and I eventually manage to get the word off the tip of my brain and into the conversation. Thank goodness for that.
Now, I must indicate at this juncture that English, although it has now become my home language by marriage, is in fact my second language. I still speak Afrikaans with my parents, brother, friends, at work. It is more prevalent for this to occur when speaking the language of the Brits, than my home language.
I wonder if there have been studies to this effect.
Regardless, this is just one more of the many many varied quirks of being high up the pole.
Typing up a blog post is less than exhilirating when one can't remember a word, or have a certain tone in mind, but can't get it out in writing. As you may have noticed, this post... sigh. Not one of my favourites, but I felt I should say something.
I am now 24 weeks into this thing. With the science available today, if my baby was a premie (pre-mature) at this stage, she will more than likely still survive with minimal problems. … That said – I should also add that, survival is linked to the quality care baby will get; also how soon that care can be administrated.
I wonder if science can save my brain...
Somewhat unrelated:
The hunt for the perfect name is still on. We have sort of decided that the initials E.L.L would be charming. We have a middle name down. And the surname is self evident. So any suggestions for English E-names would be welcome. Hell, maybe even some Afrikaans ones. The polls are open. Don’t be shy.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
It's a pink one!!! ... probably
Yesterday the hubby and I were fortunate enough to visit with both the dentist (zero cavities!) and the obstetrician. I had another scan on my tummy. The "anatomy scan". Everything looks fine. Legs and arms intact. Big feet. Little fingers. No harelip, tiny nostrils, tiny mouth, arms carelessly thrown back, feet crossed in a relaxed position. Baby is living it up in mommy's tummy.
The kicks and punches have become more pronounced, but hubby has not been able to feel them yet. Even to me, it feels only like an insistent butterfly, trying to take off against the inside of my lower abdominal area.
The sign of ze hamburger means that it is in all likelihood, a pink alien. ^_^
The search for an appropriate name can now start in earnest.
I'm not entirely convinced that it's a femme yet. We may get a surprise in December, or at the next scan (which will be in October). I've heard many stories of predictions that went the other way. Besides, all the gender predictors that I've had a look at, predict a boy.
I don't really care either way. The baby looks healthy and happy. And, that's all that really matters, innit.
Stay tuned - scans to follow (tomorrow, when I remember to bring them to work with me)
The kicks and punches have become more pronounced, but hubby has not been able to feel them yet. Even to me, it feels only like an insistent butterfly, trying to take off against the inside of my lower abdominal area.
The sign of ze hamburger means that it is in all likelihood, a pink alien. ^_^
The search for an appropriate name can now start in earnest.
I'm not entirely convinced that it's a femme yet. We may get a surprise in December, or at the next scan (which will be in October). I've heard many stories of predictions that went the other way. Besides, all the gender predictors that I've had a look at, predict a boy.
I don't really care either way. The baby looks healthy and happy. And, that's all that really matters, innit.
Stay tuned - scans to follow (tomorrow, when I remember to bring them to work with me)
Monday, August 4, 2008
germination
I spent the last week feeling about ready to die.
You never appreciate everything you have, until you lose it, or can’t make use of it.
Like, breathing for example. Or, the ability to use meds.
Yes, ladies and germs, when one is preggers, there is a list about as long as the wall of china on the meds you are no longer allowed to take, because they pass through the placenta and drug out the baby.
So, I went to the hospital last week, they put me on a drip for 4 hours. Liquids and meds. I had a scary temperature. Headache, body pain, runny stuffed nose (go figure, right), ear ache, increased heart rate, fever… it was not fun.
So, hopped up on strepsils and panados, I spent the past week in a daze, sleeping many a morning away. It was good to take a week off. Now, back at the office, I have SO much to catch up on, and missed 2 important meetings last week. *sigh*
Two more months – then it’s the holy grail of leave: maternity leave for 4 months.
But, that depends if they are gonna let me come back. I have a temporary contract till December. But, I’m going on leave in middle November. So, that is to be discussed. Should be interesting. I wonder if I am eligible to claim UIF. Apparently, if you do not get full salary during maternity leave (which I won’t, if I get anything at all), I should be eligible for UIF, but you have to apply. 2 months before you go on leave, actually.
On the upside, I am no longer sick. I have a bit of a chesty cough, but I’m sure that will leave in time.
On the downside, my medical bills are just about piling up to form their own mini-Kilimanjaro. Not kewl. And, don’t get me started on my retarded medical aid. Sigh. Things sure are expensive. More forms, more money out of my pocket. It’s so much admin to get to.
At least I have my health. Sort of.
You never appreciate everything you have, until you lose it, or can’t make use of it.
Like, breathing for example. Or, the ability to use meds.
Yes, ladies and germs, when one is preggers, there is a list about as long as the wall of china on the meds you are no longer allowed to take, because they pass through the placenta and drug out the baby.
So, I went to the hospital last week, they put me on a drip for 4 hours. Liquids and meds. I had a scary temperature. Headache, body pain, runny stuffed nose (go figure, right), ear ache, increased heart rate, fever… it was not fun.
So, hopped up on strepsils and panados, I spent the past week in a daze, sleeping many a morning away. It was good to take a week off. Now, back at the office, I have SO much to catch up on, and missed 2 important meetings last week. *sigh*
Two more months – then it’s the holy grail of leave: maternity leave for 4 months.
But, that depends if they are gonna let me come back. I have a temporary contract till December. But, I’m going on leave in middle November. So, that is to be discussed. Should be interesting. I wonder if I am eligible to claim UIF. Apparently, if you do not get full salary during maternity leave (which I won’t, if I get anything at all), I should be eligible for UIF, but you have to apply. 2 months before you go on leave, actually.
On the upside, I am no longer sick. I have a bit of a chesty cough, but I’m sure that will leave in time.
On the downside, my medical bills are just about piling up to form their own mini-Kilimanjaro. Not kewl. And, don’t get me started on my retarded medical aid. Sigh. Things sure are expensive. More forms, more money out of my pocket. It’s so much admin to get to.
At least I have my health. Sort of.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The first of many
Last night, just as I was repositioning my wide load in bed, I felt the 1st of 3 tentative kicks in my abdomen. What a magical moment! This was my kid, making it’s impact on the world at large, by kicking dents into mommy’s stomach.
I waited eagerly for the phenomenon to repeat itself, without satisfaction. All in good time, I suppose. I read somewhere that towards the last months of the pregnancy, the baby’s acrobatics are so intense, they regularly wake the mom.
I’m a light sleeper.
It’s weird, I still can’t process that I’m preggers. I mean, if it weren’t for the stomach and the constant eating and peeing… yeah. I never really thought I’d be pregnant, of all people. I mean, it was a possibility, but much the same way becoming an astronaut is a possibility: If you set your mind to it, you could do it, but it’s something other people do. Not I.
“The baby just kicked me!” I excitedly exclaimed to my husband. He then jetted to my side, and placed his hand on my protruding belly. “It probably won’t happen again,” I said. “I mean, that was the 3rd one.” Reassuringly, to my ears, I added, “Don’t worry – this will happen a lot more often in the next couple weeks, and months.”
I saw a pic online of a pregnant belly, ready to pop, with a tiny footprint plainly visible against the skin. A sort of infantile “Let me outta here!” And I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what awaits me. I’m 20 weeks into this pregnancy. Well, 19,5 weeks. And I’m already whale sized. I don’t know how people hide pregnancy. It’s rather very obvious on me.
My mom is probably right. This is probably a girl. Big in front equals girl. Carrying low equals boy. Simple.
I’m looking forward to the next scan – gonna find out the flavour. And then the naming battle will commence!
Pregnancy note of the day
I hate my atom-sized bladder.
I waited eagerly for the phenomenon to repeat itself, without satisfaction. All in good time, I suppose. I read somewhere that towards the last months of the pregnancy, the baby’s acrobatics are so intense, they regularly wake the mom.
I’m a light sleeper.
It’s weird, I still can’t process that I’m preggers. I mean, if it weren’t for the stomach and the constant eating and peeing… yeah. I never really thought I’d be pregnant, of all people. I mean, it was a possibility, but much the same way becoming an astronaut is a possibility: If you set your mind to it, you could do it, but it’s something other people do. Not I.
“The baby just kicked me!” I excitedly exclaimed to my husband. He then jetted to my side, and placed his hand on my protruding belly. “It probably won’t happen again,” I said. “I mean, that was the 3rd one.” Reassuringly, to my ears, I added, “Don’t worry – this will happen a lot more often in the next couple weeks, and months.”
I saw a pic online of a pregnant belly, ready to pop, with a tiny footprint plainly visible against the skin. A sort of infantile “Let me outta here!” And I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what awaits me. I’m 20 weeks into this pregnancy. Well, 19,5 weeks. And I’m already whale sized. I don’t know how people hide pregnancy. It’s rather very obvious on me.
My mom is probably right. This is probably a girl. Big in front equals girl. Carrying low equals boy. Simple.
I’m looking forward to the next scan – gonna find out the flavour. And then the naming battle will commence!
Pregnancy note of the day
I hate my atom-sized bladder.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Y2k was the epoch-alypse
This second trimester thing is easy. But, legend has it that, the 3rd and final trimester is the bastard to end bastards.
I’m looking fatigue, swelling, and general apathetic resignation in the face. A need will arise to get-this-over-with-already. Blimp-sized and irritable, 3 months of agonising torture await my already distended stomach.
And fat pants; lots and lots of fat pants.
If someone had told me a year ago, that I would find myself here, in this town, with child, married, in a different job, with a man I didn’t even know back then… let’s just say it would have been on the difficult side to convince me.
8 years ago, I had a very definite plan for my life:
I was going to be married by the time I hit 25, be a successful CA, get a house with 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms, 2 garages, the picket fence, the works. I was gonna be well off. Enough so to modify my house the way I wanted it, and to paint on weekends, and to wear fashionable clothes, etc.
Reality is a tad off base.
By the time I hit 24, I had modified my plan for myself.
I’m still not a CA, but I’m closer to it now than I ever have been. I was gonna get married at 28, kids at 30. The parasitic alien in my stomach changed all that very suddenly, but up until the beginning of this year, that was still the plan.
Something I’ve realised, however, is that – I am the person I always was. I didn’t become any more stylish, or fashionista with age. That whole scene has always evaded me. What I look like is what I look like, and I don’t really know how to put an outfit together, or shop for clothes.
The house market also threw me one hell of a curveball.
I’ve been living with my parents up until 2,5 weeks ago. (Now I live with my husband’s parents. No big change there) But, it is dam nigh impossible to procure a reasonable house in a reasonable area at a reasonable price. Also, I have no money. And my salary isn’t near enough to support the misconceptions I had about receiving a salary.
Over weekends, there is barely any time for anything. My paint lies accusingly in the corner, discarded. It has been an uphill battle for me to find canvas. Weekends are just too short these days. Weeks are short. Time is short.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
I’m looking fatigue, swelling, and general apathetic resignation in the face. A need will arise to get-this-over-with-already. Blimp-sized and irritable, 3 months of agonising torture await my already distended stomach.
And fat pants; lots and lots of fat pants.
If someone had told me a year ago, that I would find myself here, in this town, with child, married, in a different job, with a man I didn’t even know back then… let’s just say it would have been on the difficult side to convince me.
8 years ago, I had a very definite plan for my life:
I was going to be married by the time I hit 25, be a successful CA, get a house with 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms, 2 garages, the picket fence, the works. I was gonna be well off. Enough so to modify my house the way I wanted it, and to paint on weekends, and to wear fashionable clothes, etc.
Reality is a tad off base.
By the time I hit 24, I had modified my plan for myself.
I’m still not a CA, but I’m closer to it now than I ever have been. I was gonna get married at 28, kids at 30. The parasitic alien in my stomach changed all that very suddenly, but up until the beginning of this year, that was still the plan.
Something I’ve realised, however, is that – I am the person I always was. I didn’t become any more stylish, or fashionista with age. That whole scene has always evaded me. What I look like is what I look like, and I don’t really know how to put an outfit together, or shop for clothes.
The house market also threw me one hell of a curveball.
I’ve been living with my parents up until 2,5 weeks ago. (Now I live with my husband’s parents. No big change there) But, it is dam nigh impossible to procure a reasonable house in a reasonable area at a reasonable price. Also, I have no money. And my salary isn’t near enough to support the misconceptions I had about receiving a salary.
Over weekends, there is barely any time for anything. My paint lies accusingly in the corner, discarded. It has been an uphill battle for me to find canvas. Weekends are just too short these days. Weeks are short. Time is short.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Moo moo syndrome
These days, I graze constantly. All the time – I eat. I cannot help myself. I feel a burning starvation permeating my general stomach area if I cannot attend to the need when it arises. Although, at work, I endeavour to maintain a stoic countenance, the searing hunger overwhelms me.
Pregnant memory loss seems to have set in as well. I forgot my cellphone in the bathroom this morning. Lady Luck is with me in that my co-workers here are honest folk… that could have been a nasty turn of misfortune, had I not retrieved my phone – my lifeblood.
Yesterday, I vacated my cupboard (well, the sections in my husband’s cupboard allocated to me) of clothes that no longer fit. I have a serious shortage of pants. But, I will remedy this at a later stage in the pregnancy. According to the doctor, my weight at discharge will be 75kg’s. Not kewl. But, I plan to fix that as soon as possible after the poppage.
To assist in my constant meals, I bought a lunch bag. In it, I hoard a myriad little snacks – some healthier than others. After all, not all snacks were created equal. I can’t help but wonder if my constant mastication does not offend those around me. We all sit in rather close proximity. But, when faced with scorching hunger in my stomach vs the discomfort of those around me at chewing noise, they don’t stand a snowball’s chance.
The new job is going well. I’m worried about my productivity. It’s not that great… but, I have been busy lately. And, it seems this is only liable to increase in intensity as the days advance.
I hope this forgetfulness will not impede my abilities for the whole term of this preggersness. I suppose to err is human, and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. It’s just that I never forget my cellphone anywhere…
I just ordered a sandwich. I eagerly anticipate it’s arrival.
Moo.
Pregnant memory loss seems to have set in as well. I forgot my cellphone in the bathroom this morning. Lady Luck is with me in that my co-workers here are honest folk… that could have been a nasty turn of misfortune, had I not retrieved my phone – my lifeblood.
Yesterday, I vacated my cupboard (well, the sections in my husband’s cupboard allocated to me) of clothes that no longer fit. I have a serious shortage of pants. But, I will remedy this at a later stage in the pregnancy. According to the doctor, my weight at discharge will be 75kg’s. Not kewl. But, I plan to fix that as soon as possible after the poppage.
To assist in my constant meals, I bought a lunch bag. In it, I hoard a myriad little snacks – some healthier than others. After all, not all snacks were created equal. I can’t help but wonder if my constant mastication does not offend those around me. We all sit in rather close proximity. But, when faced with scorching hunger in my stomach vs the discomfort of those around me at chewing noise, they don’t stand a snowball’s chance.
The new job is going well. I’m worried about my productivity. It’s not that great… but, I have been busy lately. And, it seems this is only liable to increase in intensity as the days advance.
I hope this forgetfulness will not impede my abilities for the whole term of this preggersness. I suppose to err is human, and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. It’s just that I never forget my cellphone anywhere…
I just ordered a sandwich. I eagerly anticipate it’s arrival.
Moo.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The callous quirks of nature
Fate and Nature were feeling especially moody the day they decided what pregnancy would be like for a human being.
One would think that with all the pain, nausea, irritability, cost, tests, prickings and blood-takings, ad infinitum – there would be less pro-creation in this world. And yet, the opposite holds true.
One of the dirtiest tricks Fate and Nature have cooked up, is how the uterus and growing foetus is comfortably situated right on top of the bladder. And, thus, as the baby expands, more pressure is added to my already over-active bladder.
Hilarious, guys.
I make 2 to 3 nightly trips to the throne room. At work, I’m on the opposite end of the building regarding bathroom access. It's a regular daily scurry.
And, I’m only 4 months into this thing.
I shudder to think what is gonna happen to me and my bathroom situation once my stomach becomes seriously distended. I’m also starting to cross the border between “Is she just fat, or is that a preggy belly?”
To this day, (Day 3 at the new job) I have seen no other pregnant ladies in this office. My prior office had 3 (One recently popped - 2 months prior, one about to pop - 2 months to go, and the wife of a colleague who is a couple weeks behind me - 3 months preggers). There was a sort of kinship and sense of belonging there.
Here I just feel fat, and in the way.
As soon as this parasite evacuates its comfy womb, and I am again able to evacuate my bladder at more reasonable intervals, I’m heading to Ye Olde Gymm, to get back into an acceptable shape.
I nearly had a tantrum this morning. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at my misfortune. I had to go through 2 pairs of pants and 2 shirts before I found something that still fits me. I can’t believe my current growth rate. I suppose it’s both a good and bad thing. Good, coz my baby is being VERY well fed, and has the best chance of being healthy. Bad, coz society forces us to believe that thin is beautiful, and fat is disgusting. Not great for the self-esteem, I must concede.
I don’t wanna buy too many items of “fat pants”. I like to think of this as a transient period in my life. (Till my period returns, ha ha) I have 4 pairs of pregnancy pants. One is suitable for work. I haven’t figured out how to make the others work… for work...
I need a stylist.
Gratitude Journal – 02 July 2008
I don’t look like a blimp… yet.
One would think that with all the pain, nausea, irritability, cost, tests, prickings and blood-takings, ad infinitum – there would be less pro-creation in this world. And yet, the opposite holds true.
One of the dirtiest tricks Fate and Nature have cooked up, is how the uterus and growing foetus is comfortably situated right on top of the bladder. And, thus, as the baby expands, more pressure is added to my already over-active bladder.
Hilarious, guys.
I make 2 to 3 nightly trips to the throne room. At work, I’m on the opposite end of the building regarding bathroom access. It's a regular daily scurry.
And, I’m only 4 months into this thing.
I shudder to think what is gonna happen to me and my bathroom situation once my stomach becomes seriously distended. I’m also starting to cross the border between “Is she just fat, or is that a preggy belly?”
To this day, (Day 3 at the new job) I have seen no other pregnant ladies in this office. My prior office had 3 (One recently popped - 2 months prior, one about to pop - 2 months to go, and the wife of a colleague who is a couple weeks behind me - 3 months preggers). There was a sort of kinship and sense of belonging there.
Here I just feel fat, and in the way.
As soon as this parasite evacuates its comfy womb, and I am again able to evacuate my bladder at more reasonable intervals, I’m heading to Ye Olde Gymm, to get back into an acceptable shape.
I nearly had a tantrum this morning. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at my misfortune. I had to go through 2 pairs of pants and 2 shirts before I found something that still fits me. I can’t believe my current growth rate. I suppose it’s both a good and bad thing. Good, coz my baby is being VERY well fed, and has the best chance of being healthy. Bad, coz society forces us to believe that thin is beautiful, and fat is disgusting. Not great for the self-esteem, I must concede.
I don’t wanna buy too many items of “fat pants”. I like to think of this as a transient period in my life. (Till my period returns, ha ha) I have 4 pairs of pregnancy pants. One is suitable for work. I haven’t figured out how to make the others work… for work...
I need a stylist.
Gratitude Journal – 02 July 2008
I don’t look like a blimp… yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
