32 weeks

Week 32 started off with a day working from home, a cheeky nap between 5-6pm, and then me waking up in a foul mood. I’d slept in too long, hadn’t left myself enough time to get ready, and to make matters worse, couldn’t find a SINGLE BLOODY THING TO WEAR. I suddenly felt it was entirely inappropriate to wear clothes that my friends would have seen me wear over the last few days (even though the chances of them noticing and/or giving a damn are slim to none), and everything I tried on either looked like I was trying to squeeze my new-found body in to something that didn’t fit, or looked like a bloody Muu-muu. And with 8-10 weeks left, I’m a bit hesitant to go out and spend money on maternity clothes that are going to be worn all of 10 minutes, but then again, 8-10 weeks is a bloody long time to go feeling like you’ve got nothing to wear.

So, having had no time to properly blow dry my hair or put any make up on other than some hastily applied mascara, I left the house at 6:50pm, knowing full well that I would be late. The first person of the evening to get on the receiving end of my foul mood was the arse driving a Vectra who could clearly see I was doing a turn in the road when he left me approximately 11 inches to complete the manoeuvre. I then gave MYSELF the evils when I realised after completing a pretty skilled 3 point turn (even if I do say so myself), I wasn’t  going to get very far without my purse which was on the sofa. Once the arse in the Vectra had gone off on his merry way, and my purse was once again in my handbag, I made a quick pit stop at Co-Op for a sticky toffee pudding, some custard and a couple of bottles of Schloer. To the guy in front of me at the check out that though it was a good idea to comment on the basket of shopping held by the 8 month pregnant lady with the crazy hair and tell me that it “looked like someone was having a fruity night in”, you deserved every evil/eye-roll you received. What does that EVEN MEAN? Why take it upon yourself to comment in the first place? FYI, totally judged you buying your 2 bottles of Spitfire and ready meal for one on a Friday night, so INYOURFACE.

I may/may not have given “fruity night in” guy a further laugh when he walked past me sat in the drivers seat, glugging Schloer straight from the bottle like a mofo. WHAT? I was THIRSTY and that stuff is DELICIOUS.

So, I picked up Hol and arrived at Sarah’s at exactly the same time as everyone else, thus proving that my friends can always be relied on to be 15 minutes late, and that I probably had time to do a proper blow dry AND flick some Vs at the “fruity night in” guy. Gutted.

Here’s a photo of ma ladies (stolen from the facebook of the lovely Bec, cheers luv). Also, the Lumberjack shirt is a trend that has completely passed me by, but clearly has a solid grip on my friendship group.

Christmas Meal at 32 weeks

So, that was Friday night. What else has happened this week?

Well,. my inability to sleep has reached some excellent new levels, with a typical timeline as follows:

  • 10pm-12am: sleep
  • 12-1am: go for a wee, toss and turn for a bit
  • 1-4am: broken sleep, turning every half an hour or so as my hips complain
  • 4am: another wee
  • 5am: realise sleep isn’t coming any time soon
  • 5:30am: give up and go downstairs
  • 6:30am: finally fall asleep on the sofa
  • 8:00am: wake up

The cat thinks this new development is great, as she has a captive audience to watch her 6am christmas tree climbing sessions, although she is getting increasingly frustrated at the lack of available space on my lap for napping purposes.

Cat sharing lap-space with ever increasing bump

I, on the other hand? Grumpy as hell. I’ve reduced caffeine intake, tried gentle exercise, hot baths and kept naps to a minimum, but still, nothing seems to work. Here’s to hoping it’s just a phase.

Speaking of ‘gentle’ exercise, on Saturday, we attempted a trip to town to spend various vouchers, get fitted for a nursing bra and meet some friends for lunch. I’m not sure at what point over the last 32 weeks shopping became so difficult, but an hour and a half of walking around town left me more tired than completing a half marathon. Gone are the days that our shopping trips went on until Neil got grumpy, this time, it was me calling the shots and demanding a sit down. From now on, EVERYTHING is being bought online.

On Sunday, after another bad night’s sleep and very few movements from Baby R throughout the day, we got the doppler out to have a listen. For the first time, we noticed that the baby’s heart rate was nowhere near consistent, it went very fast all of a sudden, followed by some big dips that we weren’t very happy with. We called the maternity unit to be on the safe side, who told us to come in to be checked for half an hour. I was secretly hoping this might also result in a cheeky ultrasound so we could have a sneaky peak at the baby’s goods (or lack of), but no such luck. I got strapped up to a monitoring device, and after about 10 minutes, we saw a pretty big dip with the heartrate down to around 110 bpm for a couple of minutes. This was shown to a doc, and a consultant, and a couple more people, and then they asked me to sit in a more upright position and be monitored for another half an hour. This came back absolutely textbook, and we were allowed to go on our way to enjoy the rest of the evening and my mum’s birthday takeaway.

My view from the maternity assessment unit

I learned a couple of interesting things whilst I was there:

1) I have developed a very low tolerance for other people. Especially if you happen to be in the monitoring bay next to me, do the dying duck any time a midwife comes in to earshot, and then chat normally to your boyfriend as soon as you think you’re on your own. Get a grip woman.

2) The sound of babies being born down the corridor is way cooler than I thought it would be.

New Year’s Eve involved a lot of faffing around with my mum and painting my nails in the daytime. Neil bought me a UV Lamp and some Shellac nail varnish for Chrimbo, so I finally got around to giving it a go.

UV lamp for Gel Nails

 

Finished product:

Shellac Hot Chillis

I’m pretty impressed! Next time, I’m going to try using the Shellac base and top coat with some of my existing non-UV varnishes and see how that works out. Check me out being all girly and stuff!

So, my top 5 NYE’s have all involved good people, good food, and usually too much wine. I don’t like going out, I resent paying over the odds for taxis and don’t really get the appeal of seeing in the new year with loud music, strangers and a dark room. Yes, I am that much of a old fogey.

So, given that wine was off the menu, this year’s plan involved one handsome husband, some comfy PJ’s, “Restless” on iPlayer and the most epic sofa picnic known to man or god.

New Year's Eve

We were in bed by 11:30pm and for once, I woke up in bed, and not in pain, rather than grumpy and on the sofa with a cat on my head.

New Year’s Day was bloody lovely, so Neil and I chucked on our boots and headed to the local park to work off the cheese hangover. Ten weeks ago, I managed a 4 mile walk, and I planned to do a similar route today. This was a bit of an over estimation on my behalf as we got half a mile in before I turned around to go home, then had a 40 minute nap to recover. When did this stuff get so HARD?

Neil had to work for the rest of NYD, so I took the opportunity to write a birth plan, which started off as a list of bulletpoints, then began to resemble my undergrad dissertation, then was condensed back down to bulletpoints. I don’t for one second think that giving birth will work out the way that it does in my head, and I wanted our birth plan to reflect that, e.g. this is best case scenario, but if other stuff happens, here’s what we’d like to do. It’s not very prescriptive, but it was an interesting process researching and writing it, and a good way for us to work through the process and to make sure that we were on the same wavelength, even if the end result is essentially a bit of paper that says “I’d like to have a baby, please?”

So the rest of the week I was back to work, which considering it was only a 2 day working week, lasted about 4 months in total. Other than visits from Jen and the adorable baby Archie, and Hol and Bec coming over for tea and biscuits, that’s about my week covered.

I forgot to take a proper bump shot this week, so here’s a crappy one off my phone:

32 weeks 6 days bump

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One thought on “32 weeks

  1. Pingback: Things I wish I’d known about…maternity wards | From here to maternity

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