2012

2012 has undoubtedly been the best year of my life. So, like those cheesy ”Best Of’ compilation programmes that run back to back on Channel 5 at this time of year, I thought the new year was a good opportunity to reflect back on what we did:

January 2012

We saw the year in living in an old Victorian 2 bedroom end terrace house at the top of a big hill that was a bugger to keep warm and was home to 15% of the world’s population of house spiders. We’d been engaged for 6 months, and our new years eve plans involved me, Neil, my best friend Laura, her boyfriend Pete and enough food and fizz to keep us going for a month. As the clock struck midnight, Pete added a sparkly diamond  engagement ring in to the equation and I had a little cry.

We made our own wedding invitations, made up of pictures of me and Neil being bufoons. We set a tripod up to take a photo every 3 seconds and here’s the finished product. January Wedding invitation There were a lot of rejects though, 580 of them to be precise. Here are the out-takes in a little video.

According to Instagram, we also went to visit my Welsh family and took a bit of a brisk walk up some frosty hills with the dog. February Wales On January 19th, we started a new gym routine to get in shape for the wedding. This involved a lot of eggs and bacon, and very little carbs, and lots of weight lifting. It was quite refreshing to be the only girl in the freeweights section at the gym (although my 10kg dumbells were slightly less impressive). Within a few weeks I could leg press 100kg, and saw a real difference to my body. January GymIn January, we also took our first trip to Yorkshire Sculpture Park. I’m not very cultured, and don’t really like art, or galleries, but I bloody LOVE big-ass sculptures in outdoor places. And I bloody love this guy who makes faces out of Alabaster and did the Dream sculpture you can see from the M62 near Widnes. January YSP February In 2011, we got the bumper stolen from our car. Who steals bumpers? Apparently, people in Nottingham do, because they are effing expensive to replace. So, for most of 2011, we drove around with no bumper, eventually getting it fixed to the tune of several hundred pounds. Then, in February 2012, I reversed in to a lampost in the snow and completely mullered it. After this photo was taken, Neil drove the car up the M6 and ended up pulling in to a service station to rip the bumper in half  as it was clattering so loudly he couldn’t concentrate on driving. Nine months later in November 2012, we eventually got it fixed again. Neither of us currently have any plans on reversing in to anything else in the forseeable future. Third time’s a charm, right? photo (34) March

I don’t remember much about March, other than the fact that it was bloody cold and that there was a lot of snow. And, when working from home in the snow, playing cat-buckaroo is one of the best games ever. March Cat April 

April marked a month until the wedding, so we did what all sensible people do. Go on a pre-wedding holiday. April lanzerote I BLOODY LOVE taking pictures of sunsets. photo (38) My handsome husband to be. photo (39) I was looking back over the photos in my phone to remind myself of what we got up to and I found this. My domestic goddess skills have increased over the last few years, but occasionally, I excel myself by doing things like hiding all of Neil’s shoes in ridiculous places in a bid to tidy the house. He was not impressed, but got his own back when we moved house by not only packing every single shoe I own, and then putting them at the bottom of a very large pile of heavy boxes, but also putting one pair of each shoe in each box. It took until approximately September to reunite all shoes with their rightful partner.

The week before the wedding, me, my mum, and 11 of my nearest and dearest bombed it down to Brighton for my hen do. It tipped it down with rain all weekend, but cocktails were made, food was eaten, skanky youth hostels were stayed in, and my friend Stef made me a crocheted penis. What more could a girl ask for? 534021_10150724261343019_1776855159_n 557857_10150724267938019_1861116653_n 574876_10150724270963019_1802480707_nMay

We got married in early May at our local town hall with 100 friends and family. We didn’t have a plan of how we wanted the day to go, which was probably a good thing, as I’m not sure we would have planned for a best friend with a stomach bug, the hotel refusing us access to our room as they had no record of us paying for it 6 months previously, a husband that got accidentally and completely hammered, or our first night as husband and wife involving, a wife stuck in her wedding dress and a cold Big Mac being consumed at 2am. Still, it was all somehow rather fitting and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything.  474287_10100206853932095_355680702_o Wedding Day 478741_10151739900390203_438923790_o 459080_10151739897520203_906094284_oOne of our friends makes a video once every couple of months with footage of all the things he’s been up to. His Spring 2012 video included a few snippets of footage from the wedding, including bonus footage of a drunk me with no shoes, dancing with an equally drunk husband at 4m 53s. Top tip: if you’re watching this, our wedding is the bit that doesn’t involve horses, motorbikes, zoo animals and fairground rides.

Shortly after, we disappeared off on Honeymoon for a couple of weeks. We visited Singapore, Lombok and Bali.

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.

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.

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 makeup, shorts and tshirt 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.

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 makeup, shorts and tshirt 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

527580_10150875101563940_273798340_n (1)June 

Having not been on holiday for at least…3 weeks, in June, we disappeared off to Falmouth with my family for a few days, where Neil and my pops ate their body weight in seafood.

photo (40) I’m also going to put June down as one of the busier months of the year, as it was the month where 3 weeks after getting back from Honeymoon, I found out I was pregnant (something we’d roughly pencilled in for middle to late 2013, how naive we were), and we moved house 3 days later. Positive Pregnancy Test Pro-tip: finding out you’re pregnant a couple of days before moving house is a VERY good way of getting out of packing and lifting, and allows for maximum delegation and project management from a distance.

June was also a busy month for my parents who made good progress on their mid-life crisis by getting a Vespa under the guise of it being for my 16 year old brother. Much huffing and puffing was done on my behalf as I reminded them of the shed on wheels with 4 gears and a manual choke I bought MYSELF for £130 when I was 21 years old. Don’t get me STARTED on the fact that my little brother also has a double bed *bottom lip*.

551671_10100210856515885_313101517_nJuly 

So now, we’ve got to the bit where I actually can tell what I did on a month by month basis because I wrote a little blog about the subject. July was the month I tried (and failed) to keep the cat in the bag about the bun in the oven (you still following?). "Drinking" in London

Strudel-face

Strudel-face

I also looked like this:

6 week bump (or lack thereof)

6 week bump (or lack thereof)

Before getting pregnant, I honestly thought I was the size of a house. Apparently, all it takes for you to realise how thin you used to be is the process of putting on a couple of stone and getting so round that household objects start to orbit around you. I looked GREAT before I got pregnant, if only I knew it at the time.

July was also Laura’s birthday, so we bombed it down to Cromer with a sick tuppaware on my lap and went camping for the weekend. Laura proved she was young beyond her years by attaching a childs kite to her outfit and blowing bubbles all the way home.

photo (42)

I have photographic evidence of her doing a nature wee with the kite still attached, but I think for the sake of our friendship, that’s a photo that should stay off line. 279349_4411333479405_1363574754_o

Laura and I did what we do best, which is find a sunny spot, lay on the floor and have a nap. There’s a reason we’re such good friends.

July was also Batman month, which meant a quick trip to Manchester to see Neil’s best mate and watch The Dark Knight Rises in IMAX. The only photo I have of that weekend is one of Neil balancing a chair on his chin and wearing odd socks, which happens more in our house than I care to admit.

photo (41)August 

In August, I bought a birthing/yoga ball. The only difference between birthing balls and yoga balls is that they come in less garish colours, and are anti-burst, which theoretically means that when you are 10 months pregnant and weigh 40 stone, you could hop up and down on that bad boy all day without it bursting and doing serious damage to you/bubby. These are a godsend for bad backs and that old chestnut Pelvic Girdle Pain, but are also useful tools for keeping your husband entertained. The Ball

We also had our 12 week scan, in which I magically lost a week and went from 12 weeks 5 days to 13 weeks 5 days within the space of 20 minutes. The first 8 weeks between weeing on the stick and seeing the little alien in your belly are officially the longest 56 days of your life. After that, the space/time continuum speeds up week by week until the point that you find yourself 8 months pregnant and realising you have no real idea how to work a nasal bulb, and are pretty flabbergasted that there’s an entire industry dedicated to baby-snot-removal-devices.

13w5d scan

13w5d scan

September

As 2012 appeared to be the year of the holiday, we thought we’d sneak one more in for good measure and disappeared off to Crete for a week with Laura and Pete. I distinctly remember crying on the drive to the airport as it felt like my spine was splitting in half from the Coccyx upwards, and the thought of a 4 hour Ryanair flight was officially too much to handle. When we got to the hotel and found out that they had Laura and Pete booked in, but not Neil and I, I may/may not have had a massive grump and took their administration error out on anyone in earshot.

This is how we spent our nights

This is how we spent our nights

This is how we spent our days

This is how we spent our days

In September, I also joined Neil on a shoot in Bournemouth, which was for work, and not technically a holiday, right?76818_10100266629042295_990759194_n

This was the sunset from our hotel balcony. I freaking love taking pictures of sunsets.

18 weeks in Bournemouth

18 weeks in Bournemouth

I remember thinking to myself that I definitely looked really pregnant here, although looking back, I just look like I’ve eaten slightly too much dinner.

October

October bought us our 19 week scan. Neither Neil or I wanted to know the sex, but it didn’t stop us scrutinising the screen and seeing if we could see the goods/lack of goods. I pointed to various parts of the screen and asked the sonographer in a knowing way whether the bit I was pointing to was the face/heart/head/hand (delete as appropriate), and each and every time, I was completely wrong. So, I thought I might have seen boy bits, but then again, it might have been it’s head. We’re still none the wiser.

Anatomy Scan Pic

Anatomy Scan Pic

To celebrate Neil turning another year older, and as this was looking like it would be his last birthday without a brood in tow, I treated him to something he’s been dropping hints at for as long as I’ve known him. A flying lesson.

Husband getting his plane on

Husband getting his plane on

We also gathered our nearest and dearest and celebrated his birthday in style at the Nottingham Beer Festival. I discovered a stall that sold tea and carrot cake, so I was happy too.

Robin Hood Beer Festival - we made a point of sitting in the least photogenic spot in the whole Castle to have this photo taken

Robin Hood Beer Festival – we made a point of sitting in the least photogenic spot in the whole Castle to have this photo takenNovember

November

…was only a few weeks ago, but I still can’t really remember what happened.

I know we had an awesome Christmas themed cake club, which included Liana’s chocolate house (back middle), Lucy’s amazing Yule Log (back left) and Kerry B’s warm chocolate guinness cake (second from front). This event coincided with the start of my pregnancy weight gain, which I think you’ll agree is a MASSIVE coincidence.

The cakes, including Kerry's warm chocolate guiness cake second from front.Booze is allowed when it's in cake form, right?

The cakes, including Kerry’s warm chocolate guiness cake second from front.Booze is allowed when it’s in cake form, right?

AFTER SHOT: This is what happens when you let Liana's son, a knife and me loose on a house made out of chocolate.

This is what happens when you let Liana’s son, a knife and me loose on a house made out of chocolate.

November also saw us tick ‘going to a Panthers match‘ off our Nottingham-related to-do list. I liked the bit where they hit each other with sticks, and I can confirm that the Ice Arena does EXCELLENT slush puppies.

This was the face off/ceremonial puck drop. Or something. This was about where I lost the ability to tell what was going on.

This was the face off/ceremonial puck drop. Or something. This was about where I lost the ability to tell what was going on.

In November, I also hit 25 weeks pregnant, which, looking back, was the point at which I stopped looking tubby and started looking “with child”.

For the love of all things bump-shaped. Where did that come from?

December

We’re in December now, which means I have absolutely no excuse for not being able to remember what I did. In related news: this month, I have come to realise that “Baby Brain” is absolutely a thing and definitely not something that pregnant ladies make up when they forget to do stuff.

From looking back over my blog and tweets over the course of December, it appears I spent the first half avidly watching Masterchef, had winter sickness bug in the middle and then spent the last half sleeping.

When I wasn’t vomiting, asleep or watching Masterchef, some pretty cool things happened. One of my best friends turned up on my doorstep from Austrailia, which was pretty damn cool.

Kate, Holly and Becky

…and of course, Christmas happened.

31 weeks pregnant

31 weeks pregnant

So that takes us pretty much up to…now. Not a bad effort on our behalf I don’t think. Got some major life to do’s ticked off with getting married, moving house and getting pregnant within the space of 8 weeks, and managed to sneak slightly more than necessary holidays in to the year in the process.

I have absolutely no doubts that next year will look a whole lot different, but I have to say, I can’t bloody wait.

31 weeks – Christmas!

So Christmas has officially been and gone! It’s been a funny one this year, largely because it’s the first year in a long time that Christmas celebrations haven’t been associated with a wine headache. I also didn’t feel massively in the festive spirit. I’m not sure whether that’s just part of getting older, or whether it’s because I’m actually counting down to something else exciting that will be happening in a few weeks time….

In either case, Christmas has been a great time to see my friends and family, nap a lot, eat too much yummy food and replenish my sock supply.

I also realised that there are zero photos of me and Neil taken with me in my current bumpy state. We rectified this with a cheesy shot in front of my parent’s Christmas tree (our cat-mauled B&Q basics tree didn’t quite cut it). And yes, I am wearing the same dress as I am in my 30 week photo. I have about 4 dresses I wear on rotation these days, whatevs.

31 weeks pregnant

31 weeks pregnant

And here’s a bonus pic of our Northern family Christmas day lunch:

Northern Family Christmas

I’m afraid I’m beginning to feel a bit like a fraudster. I have no pregnancy mopes and groans to complain about this week. I now feel a bit like I’ve been pregnant for so long, I can’t really remember what it’s like NOT to be pregnant. I’m also (touch wood) getting in to the swing of things. The end is looming ever closer, and although I’m really looking forward to actually meeting the little person I’ve been growing over the last 8 months, I’m also not quite done with the whole ‘being pregnant’ thing. I have the odd couple of days, which I have come to associate with having a growth spurt, where I feel stretched and massive and all off-balance, but the rest of the time, it’s actually pretty OK. I love my bed nest constructed out of pillows and spare duvets, and I love that no-one even bats and eyelid when I pack it in to the back of the car when going to stay with other people, because I’m pregnant, therefore, any and all diva-ish behaviour is accepted, no questions asked.

FYI, this also goes for: napping, wearing comfy clothes, going to bed at 8pm, being a cowbag in general, eating too much, making new year’s eve plans that involve a sofa, a husband and an ungodly amount of snacks, and not emptying the dishwasher.

In fact, I think I’m going to miss this whole ‘being pregnant’ malarky more than a little bit…

30 weeks

I like the sound of 30 weeks. In the same way that getting a Kindle changed the way that I think about how far I am in to a book from page numbers to percentages, being 30 weeks pregnant out of a total of 40 weeks is officially 75% there. I think that is pretty damn impressive. Well done, me.

It’s been a bloody busy week, but absolutely none of it has been baby-related. Here’s a quick round up:

  • On Friday, after delayed flights, missed connections, unplanned stopovers in Paris and freezing fog, I finally got Neil back from Italy. He celebrated by sleeping non-stop for 14 hours.
  • On Saturday, one of my best friends, Holly turned up on my doorstep. She’s been travelling the world for nearly 2 years, and as far as I was aware, wasn’t going to be coming back for another couple of years at least. She had other plans and decided to pop back to surprise her friends and family for Christmas before disappearing again for far off lands. I may/may not have done a little cry, then put the kettle on.
Kate, Holly and Becky

Me, Holly and Becky

  • Holly’s unexpected arrival made us late for a trip up North to Neil’s hometown for a pre-Christmas get together (oops). I realised the hard way that my tried and tested “Princess and the Pea” style bed-nest cannot be easily replicated by a single duvet and extra pillows in an unfamiliar bed. Lesson learned, next time, I’m taking my own nest with me.
  • On Sunday, it was the turn of my side of the family to have the pre-Christmas get together. We met somewhere in the middle between North Wales, Leicester and Nottingham, which ended up being somewhere just outside of Crewe. I had a version of an Eton mess that contained brownie, meringue, honeycomb, cream, chocolate fudge sauce and ice-cream. It was so good, I did a little cry. Oh, and it was nice to catch up with my family and stuff too.
  • On Monday, we went for dinner at my Grandma’s house. My favourite story about Grandma is the one where she got locked in the bathroom and climbed out of the window, over the gate and down her street in her knickers in the rain. When her neighbors eventually realised she was still of sound mind and actually needed help, they leant her a coat and helped her break back in to her house, back through the small bathroom window. She’s 82 years old, and far fitter than I will ever be, despite the fact that she serves 5 different types of carbs with a pork chop dinner. This week, however, she told me a story about a young football team that my Grandad used to coach in the 60s, his new pair of spectacles and an unfortunate incident involving the new spectacles and a stripper on the football team’s bus, which I think might just have overtaken the bathroom knicker dash story to the top spot.
  • On Tuesday, Nottingham City WI’s Book Club was hosted at my house. It turns out, “Life of Pi” is more enjoyable to talk about than I thought it was when I actually read it. I’d be very interested in seeing the film when it comes out in a few day’s time, but I’ll wait to hear other people’s reviews as to not wreck the book itself.
  • On Wednesday, we saw our friends Kerry and Matt for some pub grub and a Belgian waffle that rocked my pregnant-lady-world possibly more than was appropriate. This has been a week of very good puddings.
  • Thursday was present wrapping and chilli and nachoing with Holly and Bec, and Friday was Helen’s lovely Christmas open house with the ladies from WI.
  • Between all of those bulletpoints above, I also squeezed in 7 hours of work a day, 3 grocery shopping trips, a prenatal workshop on ‘Looking after yourself in pregnancy’ (which might as well have been renamed ‘Don’t you think you should stop doing Judo now you’re 25 weeks pregnant?’) and approximately 10 hours sleep each night. Busy week.

Oh, and I also got round to getting Neil to take a bump photo with rained-on hair and rained-off makeup.

30 week bump

And, because I hadn’t done it in a while, and was genuinely interested in how it looked, a belly out shot too…30 weeks (7)

I look pretty, err, pregnant. Here’s a comparison:6 16 23 30 weeks bump comparison

I think this might be my favourite bit of the pregnancy so far. OK, so there are some bad bits, lots of broken sleep and sore bones, getting out of bed and putting on your knickers is increasingly difficult and all those non-maternity clothes that still kind-of looked OK are now definitely out of bounds. But the good bits outweigh all that. I have a big round tummy to rub and be smug at. The little wriggler does little barrel rolls on demand. I’m going to give birth to a BABY soon, AND it’s nearly Christmas. Where’s that pause button?

29 weeks

I’m not really feeling 29 weeks. When you’re 30 weeks, you can mentally say, “I’m three quarters of the way there, LET’S DO THIS BITCHEZZ”. Well, you could if you were one of those people who could get away with saying things like ‘bitchezz’, which I can’t. So yeah. Almost there, but not quite. Ask me again next week.

This week, I promised witty commentary and lovely photos, didn’t I? Well, I put a banana on the cat and took a photo, does that count?

Banana Cat

Neil’s parents came down for the weekend this week, armed with a car full of garden equipment and wellyboots. We took them to our local Turkish cafe, for a quick stomp around Wollaton Park (my ideas about what constitutes ‘quick’ is now considerably slower than everyone else’s), and to our local pub for Thai food. Neil’s mum completely gutted our garden in a matter of hours whilst we watched, guiltily from the warmth of the office, giving the occasional wave. The woman is like a MACHINE.

I also had my whooping cough jab this week. I’m not sure whether the needles are getting smaller or I’m getting braver (I’m going with the latter), but this jab was easy peasy. My elbow-crevice bruise from last week’s blood test has, however, turned a delightful shade of green.

So what else did I get up to this week? Well, Neil disappeared off into a cloud of fog to Bologna, and at one point, with delayed flights, missed connections and lost luggage, I did suspect I would never see him again. I would say that Neil being away gave me a good opportunity to showcase my independant wimmin skills, but then I remembered that my mum had me round for tea and then helped me ‘fix’ (empty) the dishwasher, so 0/10 for effort for me. I did successfully make porridge, catch buses, keep pets alive and not burn the house down, so I’m going to chalk that up as an overall win.

I also managed to find a pregnancy symptom that no-one else has ever had, ever. Google says so. Now, I’ve come to understand that googling the words ‘pregnancy’ followed by your latest moan is bound to bring up thousands upon thousands of results for other people who have exactly the same symptoms as you. Seriously. Try it. Last week, my arms felt so weak it hurt to lift them. Almost 6 million results. But this week, I out symptom-ed Google.

Warning: TMI-alert coming up. So much so, I wrote it, deleted it, then wrote it again. Once I put this blog live, I might even go back and delete the paragraph again. It’s that gross.

Whilst Neil was away, I began to notice that mid-morning, I was doing burps. Lots of burps. Pretty normal you say, acid reflux, indigestion and all. No biggy. But these burps. They were exactly like the smell of pencil sharpenings, so much so, I began to wonder whether I’d absent mindedly been chomping on the odd pencil (don’t laugh, Pica is a real thing). So, to cut a gross story short, I shared news of my interesting burp with my husband in Italy via the powerful medium of text (he’s a lucky chap). He suggested I should check to see if this was one of those things that means something is wrong with me and/or baby, I dutifully commenced googling, and it turns out that I’m the only person in the history of the world who has ever done a burp reminiscent of pencil sharpenings, and it is DEFINITELY NOT A PREGNANCY THING. It’s like the modern day googlewhack or something. Anyway. I blame the heady mix of tea, porridge, nutella and pre-natal vitamins. There, don’t you feel like your life is enriched for knowing that?

In all together less-gross news, this week was the Nottingham City WI Christmas Do, and a yummy meal was had at Bistro Pierre. It was a prime opportunity to instagram the crap out of my dinner, and once again, I completely forgot. I’m such a natural at this blogging malarky, right?

I did take a video of our unborn child doing olympic turns in the space formerly occupied by my essential organs, which, other than pencil sharpening-burps, is the only actual baby related news on this week’s blog. Make the most of it.

Warning: you remember that post where I mentioned how being pregnant had made me grow this soft blonde hair on my belly? You’re about to see a closeup:

Before getting in the family way, I expected baby kicks to be this wonderful little butterfly kicks that made you all glowy and smug at the miracle of life being created in your womb. Nowadays, kicks stop me in the middle of sentences and make me do unglamorous ‘OOF’s. But then, I spoke to someone at the WI Christmas Party who’s daughter had kicked her so hard in utero that she had BROKEN HER RIBS. From the inside. FROM THE INSIDE.

In times like this, there is only one way to express one’s feelings, and that is through the powerful medium of cat gifs.


GIFSoup

28 weeks

AS IN 28 / 4 = 7 months. 7 MONTHS pregnant. Got that? Right.

The pregnancy gods got a little retro this week and kicked off week 28 with what I thought was a bit of morning sickness with some acid reflux thrown in for good measure. Still, as I’d been furiously scrubbing my hands with soap at every opportunity since the words ‘norovirus’ piped up on the scene again, I was happy to take a bit of nausea over something that would undoubtedly be a lot more grim. Also, I’d begun to get rose tinted spectacles about the whole first trimester thing. So I sipped water, nibbled dry biscuits and waited for it to pass.

…except it didn’t pass. Needless to say, the biscuits made a violent reappearance, after several hours of stomach cramps and fever, I cursed myself for assuming it was morning sickness in the first place. Only, by that time, Neil had gone away for the weekend, and my best friend was on her way up the motorway for a takeaway and a chilled out weekend. She had a takeaway, and a chilled out weekend. I think. I spent most of it on the bathroom floor, or in bed. At one point, I was so delirious and feverish that I took all my clothes off and lay on the bathroom floor with my head on the cold bath. Poor Laura. Poor Becky who I cancelled birthday party plans with. Poor me.

On Monday morning, I woke up to discover that although my weekend had been a complete write off, I was, annoyingly, well enough for work. It also saw me tootling off to the hospital for Pelvic Support Group, which was quite literally as fun as it sounded. We practised standing up and sitting down properly, we did some good walking on the spot, and we didn’t even get a goody bag. I was having a GOOD DAY, so I had a bit of a spring in my step and wasn’t in too much pain, but seeing the other women in the group made me feel incredibly grateful for my minor ailments so far *touches wood furiously*. A lot of these women were struggling to sit or stand, and one woman is now limited in what she can do by how close she can park to the place she needs to be. I didn’t learn a huge amount that I didn’t know already as I’d researched it fairly thoroughly, but the physio did reiterate the importance of symmetry in your actions – the way you sit, stand, walk etc. This was something I’d not considered before and something I will be paying closer attention to on my bad days.

I saw the midwife again this week who told me I had bendy veins (no, I’ve got no idea either), gave me some good elbow crevice bruises and confirmed my suspicions that the baby is head down and over to the right hand side. I’m measuring 30 weeks instead of 28, which she’s not very surprised at, with Neil being a HUGE baby and me being such a LONG baby.

On Tuesday, I discovered that if you leave a Christmas tree and decorations in a box in front of my friend Becky, she will quite happily decorate your Christmas tree for you. I also remembered why we put our tree up so late last year. The cat might not be very good at catching birds, but she can scale a 6ft plastic Christmas tree in about 3 seconds flat.

On Wednesday, I found out that not only does Nottingham have a Sheriff, but we have a lady-Sheriff who, I discovered is a bit lovely as she came to open an event I helped run with work.

Whilst we’re talking about work, this week, I met our company’s new CEO without realising when he came over to ask me where a colleague was. I told him very efficiently that the colleague in question ‘didn’t work Tuesdays’, to which he politely confirmed that it was, in fact, Thursday. It was only when he walked away from my desk with a slight shake of the head that I realised a) what day it was and b) who he was, but in my defense, he looks NOTHING LIKE HE DOES ON THE INTRANET. Smooth. Real smooth.

Thursday was also the day that Nottingham came to a standstill after work with traffic jams all over the city. What with it being freezing and raining, and with a house to tidy and dinner to cook in the next hour and a half before friends arrived, I had little choice but to start walking home, bus stop by bus stop. Walking home isn’t a big deal, I thought. I used to do it every day, and it’s only 1.7 miles. OK, so I had a bag of shopping that I was expecting to take on the bus not carry home, and my boots were giving me a bit of grief, but I was only going to take it a bus stop at a time, and a bus would be there any minute anyway.

…Except the buses never showed, and I walked bus stop to bus stop until I got all the way home. As I turned in to our road, I saw Neil whizz past me in the car, and I’m a bit ashamed to say I actually called him in tears and made him reverse to drive me the last 150 yards. Somewhere over the past 28 weeks, I seem to have gained the body of an old and feeble woman, and 1.7 miles in the cold and rain left me in more pain than running a half marathon. Although I was deathly tired, I also had a rubbish night’s sleep, being completely unable to get comfy with painful hips, and I’m still sore today. All from those 1.7 tiddly little miles. Pregnancy does some funny things to your body, and this one, I definitely don’t like.Grr, grump, old lady bones.

(rant over)

So there you go! Dullest week in history: it started with a little vomit, involved going to hospital to be taught how to sit in a chair, had a bit of a detour when a midwife stole my much needed blood, saw me act like a bufoon in front of the big boss and then cry like a baby because I had to walk home. Once.

Next week, I’m going to have a blog full of pretty instagram pictures I’ve taken myself, and lots of witty little observations about life and pregnancy that will make you chortle in to your cuppa. Honest.