Let’s kick this week’s roundup with a bump shot, then shall we?
For the love of all things bump-shaped. Where did that come from?
After Neil took this, I asked to flip through all the photos, because I assumed this was just one taken at an angle that made me look a bit spectacularly pregnant. Nope. Turns out I just AM that spectacularly pregnant.
And, because I spent 20 minutes faffing about with it in photoshop, here’s a 18 week / 24 week comparison. I am also hereby forgiving myself for the sleeps and the biscuits over the past 6 weeks, because I’ve clearly been doing some excellent belly growing:
This week, I’ve made up for all the bustling around I did last week, by doing a lot of sitting, a lot of Professional Masterchef watching and book reading and by getting lots of beauty sleep.
I also went to see my midwife for a checkup, who told me that (surprise surprise) my fundal measurement (they measure the size of your belly from top to bottom to guess the size of your uterus) is coming up big, and that she thinks I’m going to have a tall baby. With me and Neil both being around 6ft tall, this didn’t come as much of a surprise.
She also tested my wee, which she said was EXCELLENT. I hopped on the scales and was told I’ve put on 2.5 kilos since I got pregnant, which is apparently also VERY GOOD. My blood pressure is the same as it always has been, which was fine in the first place, so ANOTHER BIG TICK THERE, and she got the doppler out to have a quick listen to baby. It sounded all good to me, but she looked at me a bit strangely when I suggested it sounded like there was a small galloping horse in my tummy. Whatevs. IT TOTALLY DID.
I would hereby like to put in a petition to press pause on this pregnancy for a bit. I’m sleeping good, my clothes look better with a bump in that they ever did with no bump, I can still run for the bus if needs be, and my boobs look good. Can someone arrange this for me PLZ THX?
This week also marked 6 and a half years since me and Neil got together, and six months since we said I do. I’m not really one for getting sentimental over little anniversaries, but I’m a bit flabbergasted by how much has changed in the last 6 months.
So, in honour of the fact that I’ve done some excellent eating (to the extent that I’ve put myself on a twitter ban until I can find something OTHER than food to talk about) and sleeping this week, but not a lot else, I thought I’d have a look at what I was up to 6 short months ago in Singapore, Bali and Lombok instead. And yes, there is food porn pics. What else did you expect of me?
You know all those things you’re ‘meant’ to do when you go to Singapore? Raffles? River Cruises? Shopping? We did none of them.
When we arrived, we ditched our cases in our hotel room and left in search of food. We got as far as the end of the road when we realised we’d massively underestimated how much water we would need in the heat, and how far away the centre of Singapore suddenly felt. We did the only thing we could think of, which was to sit down and eat our bodyweight in unidentified Singapore cuisine.
Absolutely nothing about this photo portrays how hot and sticky Sinapore was. 42’C and 90% humidity came as a bit of a shock to the system after a standard 10’C May wedding.
Shortly after this photo was taken, we jumped in to an (air conditioned) taxi and went back to the hotel for a jet lagged nap which went down in the record books as one of my top 5 naps of all time.
I naively thought the heat might get a little easier to bear when the night came. I was grossly mistaken, ’twas still hot as hell. We went for dinner in Chinatown and took a walk down to the marina to see this cool hotel with a boat on top that people had told us so much about.
…No-one had factored in quite how jetlagged/sweaty/grumpy we would be at this point. I may/may not have uttered something about not giving a crap about a freaking boat hotel at the time, but looking back on the pictures, it was pretty bloody awesome.
There were some actual photos of us in Singapore, but to be honest, that amount of frizz doesn’t need to be seen by anyone.
By the time we arrived in Lombok, we were JUST about getting acclimatised to the heat. I had also realised what a grave mistake I had made bringing hair straighteners, make up, scarves and the odd cardigan with me in my suitcase. They all went out the window, and a uniform of hair scraped back in to a bun, no make-up, shorts and t-shirt quickly ensued.
This is the view that greeted us as we walked out of our room and on to the beach. Oh, and a two course dinner and all the Bintang you could drink never cost us more than £15 in total, a night. It was tough. Real tough.
After we took the last photo, we wandered round the bay, and I pointed out the weird mountain shaped cloud in the distance. It took us a while to work out that this was the same mountain in Bali that we’d arranged to trek up. At night. Suddenly, my ideas about a romantic stroll up a mountain in the dark, and of watching the sun rise together didn’t seem quite so appealing.
We went on a boat trip to do some rather amazing snorkling over some incredible reefs. I’ll spare you the photos of me in a snorkle and mask, because no-one has EVER pulled that off as a good look. Instead, here’s a picture of the tiny island they dropped us off at for lunch. A fisherman arrived and showed us the squid, barracuda and snapper he’d just caught and asked us which one we wanted for lunch. Neil proved he was the one for me by replying ‘all three’.
We sat and had a beer on the beach as we dried off.
This was our lunch, cooked on the beach. It was as awesome as it looks and we ate every last bit.
I thought it was only proper to include some pictures of something other than sunsets and food, so here’s a shot of some paddy fields in Bali. I was probably asleep in the back of the car when this was taken.
Ubud in Bali is probably my favourite place in the world. We did lots of beer drinkin’ and food eatin’ and poking around in markets and temples. We had, also, vaguely acclimatised to the heat by that point, but still not enough to look half way presentable in any of the photos. I had also, by this point, admitted defeat with my holiday wardrobe and bought some cheap cotton kaftan type things from the local market which looked ridiculous in all photos except this one.
We got lost for approximately 36 hours in Ubud Market. There is seriously nothing you can’t buy there, and there’s some great haggling to be done. Except if your name is Neil, in which case, there is lots of getting-ripped-off to be done. My new husband has lots of impressive skills. Bartering is definitely not one of them.
One of the benefits of the sun rising at 6am and setting at 6pm is that the prospect of running down to the beach to watch the sun come up over the sea isn’t too much of a daunting prospect. And, as Neil’s feet was bruised and swollen to the point he couldn’t get his walking boots on (from a spectacular bail off a surfboard), this was probably the closest we were going to get to trekking in the dark to watch the sunset from the top of a mountain.