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.

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