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Since being pregnant my life has become one big game of Hungry, or Sick?

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Narky

The Captain has been following those “pregnancy timeline” guides, more closely than I have. Apparently on some things I’m right on schedule, while other things don’t match up at all.

Last week when we were driving home from work together, he asked me; “Have you been getting narkier than usual this week?”

At first I thought he was trying to make a subtle point, and started mentally rehashing every conversation we’d had for the last couple of days looking for times that I may have been rude. But it turned out he was just curious, since these two weeks are supposed to be the time that I get moody and angry. This is why it’s good to elaborate!

I replied that I didn’t really think I’d been particularly narky, at least not that I’d noticed.

But then I started thinking back to the previous day when, after missing out on the burger I was craving, I snapped at my poor mother, in the middle of a cafe that we frequent, “I don’t want a goddamn muffin!”.

Narky? Me? Maybe just a little.

Ow, my brain!

So the second week after I jumped back into the 52 Blogs challenge, I failed to post a blog for it. Way to go me! Sarcasm aside, I will hopefully be posting two blogs this weekend to catch up on 52 Blogs (again).

These past couple of weeks have been pretty hectic – not so much physically (I still spend a lot of free time sleeping) but mentally. There’s been big stuff happening at work and at home, and lots of thinking and decision making to be done for both.

It’s super satisfying to see things coming together, bit by slow, painful bit, but it can be surprisingly draining!

So here are a few things I am grateful for, in no particular order:

– A so-far healthy pregnancy – I know it could all change and there are never any guarantees, but I’m grateful to have come this far with no complications, and am determined to enjoy it while I can. Not everyone gets the chance to even be pregnant, so I consider myself very lucky!

– Buying the house that was right for us, and the amazing feeling of making it our own.

– A workplace that is amazingly flexible and understanding.

– The opportunity to be part of a start-up company, doing a job that I love and seeing the work start to pay off (albeit frustratingly slowly at times).

– A husband who rocks. He cooks amazing meals, he’s super patient with me, he helps out at my work when we need an IT guru, he picks up extra work outside the house, manages our finances, takes care of me and our animals when I’m out of action and is just generally amazing. I can’t express how grateful I am to have him on my team. Plus, he’s really good looking – that doesn’t hurt!

– Friends who are wonderful, supportive and understand when I’m a little off my game at the moment (I know I keep forgetting to contact people back and I’m really sorry! Thank you for your patience)

– Sleep, especially that lovely deep sleep I seem to get between 6.30-8.00 every morning. Let’s just ignore the fact that I’m actually supposed to get out of bed at 7.30…

– Unconditional love from my two puppies* and kitten**
*fully grown dogs
** also fully grown; love given on her terms and her terms alone

– A hair cut and blow dry that made me feel fabulous when I was feeling anxious about going to a party. Ps, the party rocked and my hair looked fantastic, so it was totally worth the indulgence!

What is making you feel great at the moment? What do you do when you need a pick me up?

The halfway mark

Today marks the start of week 20! I am officially halfway through pregnancy – unless Munchkin decides to stick around an extra week like I did. My poor mother!

Despite all of the sleep over the weekend I’ve been having a serious baby brain day today. After feeling oh-so-organised last night because I laid out my outfit, I woke up this morning and realised that I had no idea what to take for lunch.

I also almost forgot a doctor’s appointment, luckily remembered before I left for the office. Got to the medical centre and was asked for my Medicare card, only to find I’d left my wallet in my other handbag.

After the appointment I headed into the chemist to get an acupressure band to relieve nausea, and when the pharmacist was fetching one for me I remembered again that I didn’t have my wallet.

There were more instances (in fact, both the midwife and the doctor referenced baby brain while I was in the appointment) but those were the big ones. These sorts of days really make me question my ability to be a parent. I mean, really – they’re going to trust me with a baby when I can’t even remember my wallet? Madness!

Update – when I posted this, WordPress suggested that I add some tags to my post. One of the suggestions was “poor mother”. Thanks WordPress! Way to rub it in!

A day in the life of a sloth

This will possibly be the most boring “day in a life” blog post ever. You have been warned.

Sunday April 7

10am – After a couple of super early morning wakings thanks to weird dreams and constant peeing, I finally woke up properly at about quarter to 10. The Captain came in a couple of times to ask what I wanted for breakfast, but I couldn’t decide.

A little after 10 I dragged myself out of bed, took my anti-nausea meds and made scrambled eggs on toast for the two of us. It took a while, but I managed to eat about 3/4 of it.

11am – Following breakfast I made myself a weak coffee and joined Captain in the living room, cramming myself into the one semi-clear armchair alongside some graphic cards and cables to keep him company while he Frankensteined a computer (apparently this is taking parts of a bunch of old computers and making one much better one).

I hang out there for a while slowly sipping my coffee and listening to music, and then we go into the spare room (and future nursery) to figure out how to move all the crap in there to elsewhere to make room for baby-related things.

12pm – I made it to the afternoon! Must be time for a nap. Seriously, after making breakfast and then lounging around for an hour I’m exhausted. Cap’n sees me wobbling on my feet and sends me to bed, where I read and check twitter a bit and then fall asleep – spread diagonally across the bed to avoid the cat and a pile of laundry that I have yet to put away. It’s a hard life!

3.30pm – Wake up slowly. The cat sees me stirring and wanders up for cuddles, which seems to involve climbing on top of my bump and boobs. Ouch! Needless to say that doesn’t last long. Cap’n pops in to tell me his sister and her husband will be around later to borrow a spare phone and have offered to bring fish and chips for dinner. Considering he’s had to carry a lot of the load around the house I’m happy to give him a night off cooking (so generous, I know). Unfortunately this means I need to get dressed for the first time today. Jeans and a t-shirt it is!

After hauling myself out of bed for the second time today I join Cap’n in the spare room to clear some stuff out, and in my tidying frenzy I decide to take down the Christmas decorations in the living room and pack them away. Only 3+ months after Christmas. There’s really no point rushing these things!

4.30pm – All that being on my feet has tired me out, but I don’t want to go back to sleep ahead of people coming around. I sit in bed playing 4 pics 1 word to try and keep from nodding off.

5pm – Too hungry to wait for fish and chips, so I head to the fridge, trying to talk myself out of Tim Tams. Luckily(?) there is a choc chip muffin there that Matt bought for me yesterday but I was too sick to eat. It’s gone a little hard, so I whack it in the microwave.

While I’m waiting I spy a stray tennis ball on the floor and decide to kick it across the room. Unfortunately my coordination is a little off, so I wind up kicking the remnants of a wall that we’re demolishing instead, ripping some skin off my little toe. Owie!

My toe wasn’t really bleeding, and I really was quite hungry, so I decided to eat the muffin before tending to my self-inflicted injury. Priorities! I break the muffin up and eat the bottom first, because that’s just the way things are meant to be.

Then I hobble out to the bathroom to clean up my toe with dettol and put a bandaid on.

6pm – The others arrive with delicious, greasy fish and chips. We talk work, life and baby news, and I show them the latest scans – which I then drop into tomato sauce. Smooth!

6.45pm – I’m almost falling asleep at the table, so we say goodnight. After retching for a while (hyperemesis is a bitch) I head outside to feed the animals. Because I’m still feeling a bit tender and unwell I keep the dogs at bay instead of our normal cuddles and play routine. My poor girls are suffering from me being sick all the time. That does suck, and it makes me question whether I/we could handle me being pregnant again (presuming I get the same sickness and fatigue next time) once we have a child as well as our pets. But I guess we’ll worry about that if/when it becomes an issue.

7pm – Shower time! I can finally get out of these restrictive clothes that I’ve been stuck in for all of three and a half hours. Such relief!

7.30pm – Back in pyjamas at last (ahem), Cap’n and I curl up in bed to watch an amazing Game of Thrones interview. It’s an hour and a half of awesome, with George RR Martin and a bunch of the cast and crew. It’s really interesting, and Peter Dinklage is hilarious. You can check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkzodgRaze8

9pm – Getting sleepy, but not ready for bed yet, so we settle in to watch an ep of Stargate SG 1 (we’re up to season 6) before turning in for the night. I decide to use one last scrap of energy to be productive and put away my clothes, even laying out an outfit for the morning. Look at me go! I’ll brush my teeth while watching too, so I can try to sleep as soon as the episode is over.

And on that exciting note, this blog post is done. Good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!

The sleep smackdown

In the past couple of weeks, while morning sickness has been up and down, but manageable, I have been hit with a wave of fatigue. Actually, it feels more than just a wave – it’s more like a full body smackdown. Is that a wrestling thing? Probably. I don’t know, and I’m too tired to care enough to google wrestling. I crave sleep, my entire body aches for it, and no matter how much I get it’s never really enough.

It is so hard to wake up in the morning and drag my sorry arse out of bed. It’s even harder to stay away from the bed (or the couch, if I’m at work) during the day, and once I’m done for the day I can’t wait to get back to bed. The bed and I are spending a lot of time together recently.

As a semi-reformed coffee addict, I was actually being pretty strict as far as caffeine was concerned. Admittedly in the earlier weeks it was easy to avoid coffee altogether because it made me nauseous – iced coffee was different, because it has an inexplicable talent for making me feel better when I’m sick. But even then, I would firmly stick to my “no more than one caffeinated beverage a day” rule.

It’s funny how those self-imposed standards can slide over time. In part, it’s because I actually looked up the recommended amount and realised that what I was having wasn’t even coming close to the bottom of the low-caffeine-intake level, and up to moderate intake is ok in pregnancy.

But in reality I only looked up those standards because I was so freaking desperate for a second coffee. I need it, not because of my sort-of addiction, but because I’m trying so hard to not sleep all day long, and forcing my poor brain and body to try and function at least at 50% capacity at work and 20% capacity at home. Ok, maybe 10% at home. Thank goodness for a husband who can cook.

When trying to conceive, I was all “I’m going to eat healthy food and avoid caffeine and exercise every day!”.

Then reality hit. Hyperemesis gravidarum was so bad that I had to eat whatever I could manage to keep down – dry crackers were often pretty much the only thing I’d manage, along with the occasional cheeseburger, high-carb and high-fat and high-a bunch of other bad shit pasta side dishes, whatever it was, if I felt like it and it wasn’t going to put the baby at risk of harm, I’d eat it.

Exercise? HA! By the end of the day I just want to be horizontal, and not in any kind of healthy, exercisey way. Even on weekends, I end up sleeping late and then the general “get up and do a few things” tires me out so much that the thought of dragging my protesting body out for a walk is just too much.

Pretty much the only thing I’ve stayed strong on is no alcohol, which is easy since I’m not much of a drinker normally, and the big no-nos – listeria risks and all that. The smell of Subway at my local shops makes it difficult, but I intend to resist its siren song until after I’m done. On that, at least, I can be strong! Probably.

Maybe this is all good practice for parenting itself. Starting out with all these ideals and then realising that sometimes all you can do is put your energy into the really important things and let your standards slide a little on the rest.

Or maybe I’m just telling myself that so that I don’t get too consumed with guilt when I indulge in a small latte in the afternoon.