Weeks 22 – 26

I am now an impressive 3 months late with this post. I’m not sure entirely what I’ve been faffing about at, especially as it’s been written in it’s entirety and sat in my drafts since I was 26 weeks. I’m very lazy. Soz.

Moving House

At 22 weeks 6 days pregnant, we moved house. Massive shout out to the 4 men, 3 trucks, 2 parents and 1 tireless husband who helped us get out of the old house, and in and settled in to the new house in one day. I say “settled”, I mean “there’s space for me to walk from the front door to the sofa”. The rest of the boxes can wait.

Since then, Neil and I have been a dream team whereby I shop for new stuff for the house online, then when it arrives, Neil gets tasked within an inch of his life to do the DIY. I did hang two sets of curtains on my own though, so that’s pretty good.

How many living things can you fit within half a meter squared?

How many living things can you fit within half a meter squared?

I wish I was the type of instagrammer who could take smug little pics of corners of the new house and make them look all stylish and stuff, but I’m not, so consider yourself spared some excruciatingly dull pics of our new sofa cushions. Basically, you’ll just have to imagine them. They’ve got triangles on, it’s pretty exciting.

Positive Birth Group

This month, I did a couple of things that were actually to do with babies, and not to do with working, or moving house or watching True Detective (although I did a lot of those things too). When everyone else was looking up at the solar eclipse through welding masks, I tootled off to a Home Birth/Positive Birth group in Nottingham.

I didn’t really go with any expectations, or any agenda, but it was bloody lovely and I’d definitely go again. Two women bought their babies who were less than a month old, and told their birth stories (one 2nd baby home birth at 14 days overdue, one first time mum hospital birth, two happy mums), and within 4 days of the meeting, two other women who were very pregnant when I met them, shared their birth stories with the facebook group (one VBAC homebirth for baby 3, one with Gestational Diabetes, a homebirth that transferred in, two happy mums). I found the whole thing, of meeting real people and hearing real stories that were all different, but all great experiences really cool and very empowering.

Pretty much everyone I’ve spoken to carries some kind of trauma from their birth experience, and it’s such a pity that it’s that bit we tend to focus on, and not the good bits. I’ve done some good thinking about Billy’s birth, I know I was incredibly lucky to have a relatively uncomplicated birth and a healthy baby, but there’s definitely some things I’d do differently this time around. The biggest thing by far would be to have confidence in my self, and my body’s ability to do its own thing – rather than where, when, or how overdue I am when it happens and what song is playing on my birthing playlist, lolz. Can you remind me of this when I get to 41 weeks and am jogging round the block whilst eating pineapple in an attempt to kick start labour? Ta.

Good face, kiddo

Good face, kiddo

When Billy was born, we got about an inch of water in the birth pool at home before the midwife decided we had to go to our local hospital for a scan to rule out what they thought might be Vasa Previa. In the process, my waters were broken and it all kicked off so fast there was no time to get home and fill the pool. So the home birth was out of the window, which I didn’t mind. The bit I did mind was being stuck on a maternity ward with low tolerance levels for everything, an inability to use my own legs and having to wait all day for a prescription to be filled. So this time, we’re planning for another home birth. If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen, but if I get the opportunity to have a baby, then curl up in my own bed with my own duvet, and my lovely husband, then I can’t really think of anything better than that.

Pregnancy Yoga

This month, I also started attending pregnancy yoga. I say “started” because a week after I started, I missed a class, and the week after, classes weren’t on because of Easter, so to date, I’ve done ONE yoga class. That means I’m a bona fide yogi now, right?

So off I trot to yoga with a mat under one arm and a pillow under another. When I was pregnant with Billy, the pilates and yoga classes both required you to bring a pillow, so I was pretty smug about remembering to take one this time round. Got there, was the ONLY dickhead with a pillow. Everyone else had bottles of water and blankets. Looked like a complete n00b.

Two paintbrushes and "magic paint" (water). Hours of fun for two identically dressed toddlers.

Two paintbrushes and “magic paint” (water). Hours of fun for two identically dressed toddlers.

Not only that, but there were BLOKES there. In fact, I walked in to the room, and walked straight out again because surely the whole being pregnant thing hadn’t changed THAT much in the last 2 years had it? Answer: yes. Of a group of 12 women, three had their partners with them. I felt a bit bad that Neil was at home wrangling a small boy into his batman PJs rather than with me doing what was clearly going to be some smug bonding yoga type stuff, but as the lesson went on, I was more and more glad Neil wasn’t there. There was no smug couple bonding stuff. There was three men who spent a lot of time with their hands on their stomachs connecting with their “babies” whilst a yoga teacher talked about pelvic floor muscles and how remarkable vaginas really are. Might take Neil with me next time, just for the lolz.

Weddings
I used to think kids running around at weddings were adorable. When we got married, we invited kids as standard and was pretty shocked when everyone except family declined the offer to bring kids with them. Now? I totally get it. Weddings with toddlers involve a lot of running around and trying in vain to keep your kid out of the soil/wedding cake/dj booth (delete as appropriate).

Weddings WITHOUT kids on the other hand are excellent, and we went to two lovely weddings this month.

Pics or it didn’t happen:

Kerry and Matt's wedding

Kerry and Matt’s wedding

Laura and Tom's wedding

Laura and Tom’s wedding

Bump pics

Last time round, I took fornightly photos of my stomach, convinced that marginal changes in shape really proved I had “popped”. This time, my flab is staying under wraps, ta. At 23 weeks, right on cue as I did last time, a tiny bump appeared out of nowhere, and pretty much doubled in size on a weekly basis from that point.

23 weeks (and convinced I was massive, which on reflection, I definitely wasnt)

23 weeks (and convinced I was massive, which on reflection, I definitely wasnt)

And just to prove I’m not lying when it comes to my belly doubling in size week on week, here’s me 3 weeks later in a different, but very similar stripey top (seriously, what is it with maternity clothes manufacturers and stripes? So slimming):

26 weeks

26 weeks

Rainbow Blanket: Important updates
To round of this update, I have some very exciting news: crocheted blanket in “a bit longer than it was last month” shocker. I know. Truly mind bending stuff.

I AM pretty chuffed with myself that when I started this project (which has an alternative title of “the only thing I’m going to crochet, ever”) I eyeballed the length based on my memory of Billy’s star blanket that I was looking to replicate. Three months down the line, I get out the star blanket, and bugger me if I didn’t get the length EXACTLY right. It’s like my secret superpower or something.

Rainbow blanket progress

Rainbow blanket progress

Next month: Turkey! Fainting!Gestational diabetes tests!

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22 weeks: pillow forts, dog walks, maternity leggings and a box of french fancies

On pregnancy moans – This week, I’ve mostly been moaning about:

  • Needing a new back and hips. These ones are broken. Pass me the WD40 and for god’s sake, let me get a comfortable night’s sleep. In a bid to find a way to sleep through the night without doing a lot of swears, I’ve actually folded a double winter duvet in half and put it on top of my half of the mattress. Then I make what can only be described as a PILLOW FORT down the middle of the bed and sleep on my side/front or side/back pressed against that. I look COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS, like some Princess and the Pea wannabe. It’s incredibly comfy, but I STILL wake up feeling like a robot left out in the rain for too long.
  • Whilst I’m on the subject of sleep, can someone please tell my body clock and brain that it’s not time to be all alert and full of life after my first of many night-time trips for a wee? On a typical night, this involves being WIDE awake when I wake up around 1:30am, starving hungry at 2am, downstairs eating cereal and drinking milk at 2:30am and eventually back to sleep at 3am. By 7am I am usually more grumpy than I would care to admit. On the plus side, two breakfasts 🙂

On dog sitting – When I’ve not been busy moaning, we’ve been dog sitting my family’s pooch whilst they’re off sunning themselves. The last time we had him was 3 months ago, when I was 10 weeks pregnant and spent a long time curled up under a blanket with him on the sofa.  This time round, he’s getting on with our pussy cat a lot better (and by that I mean he’s not tried to eat her. yet. this week), but this might be because he’s got bigger fish to fry with the stags at the local park in rutting season. He has one of those personality disorders where he thinks he’s a lot bigger than he really is. And when I say bigger, I mean BIGGER. Like taking-on-a-stag-and-thinking-he’s-going-to-win size. (He totally wouldn’t win).

My lovely friend Stef was up from London, so her, me and Bec did some good dog walking at the weekend. Four miles is a lot further and a lot more hard work than I remember it being. I used to run 3 miles and not really think much off it, heck, once I ran 13.2 miles and lived to walk as far as the pub afterwards.

In fitter days, just before running the Great North Run in 2010. Neil had run 125 from Manchester to Newcastle prior to running the GNR with me, but that is officially another story.

My friend Bec has recently joined the 21st century and invested in an iPhone. She’s also discovered Instagram and has taken to Instagram-ing everything she does. I blatantly stole these pictures she took on our walk, largely because I was too busy huffing and trying to form sentences to bother taking any pictures.

One of the offending stags. Just out of shot, the Jack Russell makes semi-menacing noises and runs in the stag’s general direction.

The lake and house looking all autumnal.

On being a yoga bore – Also this week, I ate my own body weight (which is a lot more than it once was) in food at Yo! Sushi and got fixed by my wonderful yoga teacher once again. Seriously, if you’re pregnant, go find a prenatal yoga class somewhere near you. I don’t care if you like yoga or not, just go and do it. I didn’t even realise how sore my bones were until I left an hour and a half later feeling a foot taller and a stone lighter. Plus, someone covers you in a blanket and you ‘relax’ (sleep) on the floor for 15 minutes at the end. What more could you want?

Actually, I can’t vouch for the other people in the class doing much actual sleeping, I woke myself up with a snore on 3 occasions in 15 minutes, so chances are I kept them awake too.

This week, my yoga teacher taught me a great move which sorted my hips and back out completely. She called it Stirring the Porridge (click the link for a gif of how to do it). Try it now! OK, maybe don’t try it now if you’re at work. Or on the bus. Or anywhere in public really, but definitely try it.

On buying presents…for me – That brings me nicely up to today. After my ebay bargain hunting of a few weeks ago, I since discovered (through my lack of understanding about how maternity clothes work) that I’d bought some lovely stuff that will look great on me in 3 months time, but now looks about as glamorous as a sack of spuds. After realising I’d worn the same 3 dresses on rotation every day for about 3 weeks, I delved in to ebay once more in a bid to buy some empire line stuff that doesn’t make me look like I’m wearing a Muumuu. Two dresses and £12 later, I’m a happy lady.

My new PJs. Just wish I looked like this in them.

AND whilst I was killing time before Book Club tonight, I bought some PJs with some M&S vouchers we got for our wedding (happy wedding present, Neil! It’s what you always wanted!). The top has a boob-scoop and is really comfy, if nowhere near as supportive as the more expensive versions from Bravissimo. The bottoms are long enough in the leg for once, but have a fake drawstring waist?! Very annoying, but so soft and comfy, I’ve almost forgiven them. Yes, I put them on within 5 minutes of getting back in the house, what on earth do you take me for?

OK, so whilst I’m admitting all my recent purchases, I might as well come clean about heading back to H&M for another pair of maternity leggings. I bought the first pair in desperation one lunchtime as my other leggings needed constant hitching to keep in place. Ladies, constant legging-hitching in the workplace is SO not a good look. Something HAD to be done. These H&M badboys don’t sag around the knees, and they’re elasticated around the top of the waistband, so they don’t fall down. The holy grail of maternity leggings in my book, and much cheaper than most at £8.

Shall I tell you what I’ve NOT done this week? I’ve not put the cot up like I said I would. I’ve definitely not moved the double bed in to the box room, taken a bump photo or done any of the other things I promised myself I would. I HAVE eaten an entire box of Mr Kipling’s Fiendish Fancies and published my blog on time for once, so not quite a complete failure.