14 weeks – Coccyx pain, telling friends and family, and a dubious theory about pain relief

You know what sucks? Coccyx pain. Not one of the standard pregnancy complications, but certainly the one that’s causing me the most grief. It doesn’t seem to matter whether I sit, stand, lie, walk or roll about on that damn yoga ball, it still hurts. I’ve taken to sitting on a cushion on my desk at work and sitting on a hot water bottle. In August. Pregnancy makes you a lot of things. Cool is definitely not one of them.

I’ve not taken any pain killers though. I haven’t since I got pregnant. Every time I’ve gone to take them, a little voice says ‘but is the pain really that bad?’ and I get put off. I’m not really sure why, there’s nothing to say that pain killers are going to harm the baby, but there’s definitely a mental barrier there. Subconsciously, maybe I’m approaching pain relief in the same way my body approaches alcohol. Pre-pregnancy, I could sup beer with the best of them, and whilst I didn’t have a mega-high tolerance to the hard stuff, I wasn’t a shandy-pants either. These days, I take a sip of my husbands beer and I come over all tipsy. Maybe if I abstain from pain relief, those 2 paracetamol I take in early labour will be all I need for pain relief? Probably wishful thinking.

Also this week, we dished the dirt and told friends and family who didn’t yet know about the apple-sized offspring making a home in my belly. We were greeted with lots of “squees” and some lovely well wishes, not to mention a doppler, a travel cot, some topshop maternity jeans, a library’s worth of books and a couple of lovely maternity shirts. Could get used to this!


12 Weeks? 13 Weeks?

Today, I woke up a lovely 12w6d, took a quick bump shot and tootled off for my first ultrasound.

It was, for the record, as awesome as people tell you it will be. What you don’t get from the still images is the general amazingness of seeing the sonographer prod your belly with the scanner thing, and seeing your baby kicking it back defiantly. I dutifully turned up with a full bladder, and was promptly asked to go empty it as he (TOTALLY convinced it’s a boy) was pretty comfy, completely upside down against my mega-full bladder. He had a bit more room once I’d been to the loo. We saw hands and fingers, and feet, spinal cord and heartbeat, it was incredible.

13w5d scan

But what I wasn’t expecting was for the sonographer to measure me at 13w 5d – a week beyond what I thought I was. As well as screwing up my fortnightly bump shots and weekly blogs, this also brings my due date forward to 22nd February 2013.

After initially having a bit of a freak out, I’ve decided that babies come when they want to come, and ‘weeks along’ measurements don’t really mean much in the grand scheme of things.

So, here’s my 12 week 6 day OR 13 week 5 day bump shot. Feeling all belly, but decided to forgive myself for that, considering I’ve seen the baby in there, and he’s officially awesome.

12 weeks 6 days or 13 weeks 5 days?

I’ve also added that to the ongoing bump gallery, which is also screwed up thanks to the docs new calculations…

6 week to 12 week bump progression

11 Weeks

I’m on a roll with these weeks, they’re going by pretty fast and I feel like I’m kind of in the swing of things. Or as in the swing of things you can be when no-one knows you’re pregnant, it’s 20+’C outside and all you want to do is hide your first trimester bloat under a massive cardi and a huge scarf. Come on Autumn, do your worst. I need to get my knee length boots and tshirt dresses out of storage.

How to get no help and draw no attention to yourself whilst acting like a prat in public:

Still getting the dizziness, which cumulated quite spectacularly with me nearly passing out in Subway. It was really warm, I was carrying a heavy bag and had walked for miles, and because of a client meeting, I was at least one meal down by lunchtime. The queue was massive and I was a bit shaky when I got to the back of the queue, sweating by the time I ordered and gripping the rail for support when they asked me if I wanted it toasted. By the time it got to the bit where they ask what salad you want on your cob, I shouted ‘everything’ before plonking myself arse-first on their beautiful cold tiled floor before my body made the decision to do it for me.

Interestingly, no-one commented, no-one stared and no-one came to help – although this is probably more of a reflection of the normal clientele in that particular branch of Subway than the people of Nottingham. I probably just looked like the world biggest subway fan, which, may just be the case.

New this week:

Interesting new developments this week: I’ve started telling my husband off in my sleep. Not actual words or actual insults, just sleep-grumps that leave him with no doubt that he’s in trouble, but no idea what for. What can I say? I like to keep him on his toes.

Wardrobe dilemma number 2:

I go on holiday in a few weeks. I’ll be 15 weeks when I go, and 16 weeks the day I get back. When I first got pregnant, I assumed I would be all ‘with adorable bump’ by that point, but the closer we get, the more I think I’ll still be all ‘with too many biscuits’. After going swimming a couple of weeks ago and feeling pretty uncomfortable in my lovely bikini, I decided it might be worth investing in something that’s going to cover the gut until it looks more bump like.

Once you chuck in to the mix the fact that you’re a 34G (with no pregnancy boob-gain, yet) and have slightly wonky baps, so need slightly padded cups to detract attention away from the wonkyness, and you’re in a right pickle. I don’t want to get a normal tankini as being just short of 6ft, these usually cut me across the belly button as it is. There’s little point getting a normal cossie as at between £30 – £60 a shot, I want something that’s going to fit me for more of the pregnancy than this one week in Greece. My wardrobe saviour finally came in the shape of this tankini set from Figleaves Maternity.


It’s not underwired, and on its own, it looks ridiculous, but with a simple black bikini underneath (I can’t find the exact one, but this is similar), it actually looks half decent. And I’ll be comfortable with all the bloat, and be able to wear it at the local pool when I do get a bump too!

10 weeks

After my 8 week appointment, the midwife called to let me know that I had a bladder infection, which I thought was a little odd as I felt fine. (Un)luckily for me, the anti-biotics she described are mean and evil and made me feel mega-nauseous once again this week. Still, the little maternity prescription exemption card the NHS sent me kindly softened the blow a little.

I also made my first non-book baby purchases this week in the form of a Bababing delux daytripper bag. My stipulation was that it should be unisex enough for a boy or girl, manly enough so my husband would carry it and not cost the earth. It seriously has so many pockets, it took us 10 minutes to find them all, it’s even got a wipe-able bin section (husband asked why we would possibly need this, didn’t want to break it to him) and everything else you can think of. It costs ~£65 on the John Lewis site which has more snazzy photos and stuff, but we got a Mocha version for £45 delivered from Amazon.

I also caved and bought some amazing maternity trousers. I was a bit apprehensious about  finding trousers to fit as I’m nearly 6ft tall and a size 14, with big calves and a 35 inch leg. It also felt a bit daft to be buying maternity trousers when I clearly don’t have a bump to put in them, but it made even less sense to buy ‘interim’ kecks to last me a few weeks, so off I went. H&M was my first stop, and I was chuffed to bits to find two pairs of skinny low rise jeggings with belly bands (see exhibit A and exhibit B)…

…and a pair of mama denim boyfriend shorts with a belly band which I can’t find a link for love nor money, but I’m wearing them in the “10 week” picture below. As non of my work trousers fit anymore, I also ordered these badboys from Long Tall Sally, which will inevitably be so long I’ll have to turn them up several inches. Oh, and I bought this skirt from Warehouse. I bought it in a 16 to wear under my (so it would be long enough in the leg) which will be lovely for my upcoming jollies.

In other non-shopping related news I got my scan date through (22nd August), went to the pub, hosted a Tapas dinner party with some friends, went swimming, dog sat for my parents and ate a lot of Cinnamon Grahams.

Me and the dog have done lots of this – lying on the sofa with a blanket

The scales are saying I’m the lightest I’ve been for over 2 years, but as I found out I was pregnant the day I moved in to the new house, and hadn’t weighed myself in the old house where I knew the scales were accurate, I can’t tell whether it’s just the weird floor here, or whether I’m actually quite thin. I certainly don’t deserve to be after the amount of biscuits I’ve eaten, but I’ll have to see what the doctor says.

This brings us nicely to the photo of the week:

Check out ma bloat




…and on to the finest bit of photoshoppery of recent times, a bloat comparison chart! And yes, I know it’s all bloat, but it’s new bloat, so I reserve the right to be excited about it!

6 weeks, 8 weeks, 10 weeks bump comparison pic



9 weeks

In addition to the (not since repeated) slowest run in the world that I did last week, I added to my pregnancy fitness regime by buying two yoga dvds and thinking about doing them. Actually, that’s not fair. I did get round to doing half of one, but I had a slice of toast in one hand and I felt a bit stupid during all the ‘put your hands on your belly and connect with your baby’ stuff because the only thing I was actually connecting with was my normal pudgy belly.

I also purchased one of those blow up exercise balls you see pregnant women bouncing on in episodes of One Born Every Minute. I should probably count blowing the bloody thing up as exercise as well, because even with a pump, it was bloody hard work. So far, my husband has done lots of pratting around with it, but as yet, no exercise has been done. Makes a good foot rest though, so all is not lost.

Other than that, this week has been largely uneventful on the pregnancy front. Weeing all night, nausea keeping at bay, lots of sleeping being done and not a lot else.

We headed to Cromer in Norfolk for a weekend camping with some friends, which sounds fun until you need a wee 3 times a night and have to trudge across a field to find a loo. We walked for miles, ate waay too much meat and had a bloody lovely time. I would post a picture of the beach, but WordPress only allows tiddly upload sizes, so you’ll just have to imagine.

8 weeks

Be gone, morning sickness

Somewhere between the end of week 7 and the start of week 8, I woke up one morning, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and I miraculously DIDN’T feel nauseous for a change. Still made my husband get me breakfast in bed though, there’s got to be some perks.

I thought it would be a one-off, and each new morning, I opened my eyes with trepidation and waited for my stomach to lurch. So far, so good. I’ve got energy, I still cry at everything (nothing new there) but I haven’t threatened divorce and/or murder in a good few days, so it seems my hormones might be pretty stable too.

I’m sure I’ll be back to carrying an emergency tuppaware for vomit-y times very soon, but for now, I’m making the most of the awesome weather and my new-found normality whilst it lasts. Whilst I’m there, I’m trying to pay more attention to WHAT I’m eating, rather than just celebrating the fact that I’ve been able to eat SOMETHING. That means I’ve swapped nesquick cereal for Sultana Bran, and had a ploughmans salad (with actual vegetables) for lunch instead of the standard marmite on toast. I’ve even bought some freaking fruit. I deserve a medal.

Booking in appointment

I had my midwife booking in appointment this week. I tried to persuade them to use the doppler thingy to see if they could find a heartbeat, but they weren’t having it, unfortunately. Something to do with not being able to hear the heartbeat with a doppler this early on. What rubbish! I was a brave soldier when they took my blood, they were happy with my weight, and my blood pressure, and my uneventful family/medical history.

I was a bit surprised to be asked what hospital I’d like to give birth in. I suppose it’s a pretty obvious question, but it’s not one that me and my husband had given any thought to. As he wasn’t there, I plumped for one over the other on the basis that:

  • I was born there
  • the nice student midwife worked there
  • they have a half-way house hotel thing where you and your partner can stay overnight together with the newborn if you’d like support but don’t want to be on a ward
  • I’ve been pleased with every appointment I’ve had there

I was also told I would be referred to a consultant due to a recent procedure that slightly increases the chance of pre-term labour.

Was also pretty chuffed to come in at 78 kilos (BMI of 24) wearing clothes AND having breakfast AND needing a wee. I LIKE their scales. Obviously spending 50% of my monthly salary on unrefined carbs seems to be doing wonders for my waistline.

Speaking of waistlines, here’s my 8 week pic:

Getting in to skinny jeans will only do up with the aid of elastic band territory.


Was pretty disappointed to hear back from a couple of yoga classes who wouldn’t take me for general yoga classes as there would have to be too many modifications to the exercises because I’m pregnant, but who also wouldn’t let me come to the pre-natal classes for another 2 months. I’ve read so much literature that berates pregnant women for only picking up exercise after the first trimester, but IT’S A BIT BLOODY DIFFICULT when people get so arsey about it.After having a bit of a moan, I realised I was looking for excuses not to do anything at all, so I got my trainers on and went for the world’s slowest run. At first, I was a bit nervous, but after a while, I got in to it, and today my muscles feel lovely and sore (in a good way)

I’m sticking with walking between 1.5-4 miles a day to/from work, and going to start lifting some light weights in the garage gym with my husband now that’s set up. Once the international crisis that is my bikini line gets resolved, I’ll be heading to the swimming baths too.

Things are going a bit bloody fast

I remember being 3 weeks pregnant, which in real money meant that I was 1 week following conception, e.g. approximately 5 minutes pregnant. I was so desperate to get a few weeks under my belt to feel more pregnant. Here we are at week 8 and guess what? Still wanting to get a few more weeks under my belt. I’m assuming this continues until birth, then I’ll either want the clock to stop, or I’ll want to fast forward to the bit where I can sleep again.