Weeks 27 – 30

Third trimester
The second trimester is known for being the best bit of pregnancy apparently, because you’re not massive and sore and stuff just yet, and you have marginally more energy than in the first and third trimesters. I say “apparently” because those benefits passed me by completely.

Either way, that bit’s over now, so we’re technically on the home straight.

This month we swanned off to Turkey for our jollies, and our close friend’s 60th birthday. I was a little apprehensive about travelling when pretty pregnant, especially when I realised I couldn’t use my Ehic card, but luckily everything was fine.

At least, it was fine until we left the house to drive to the airport and I started feeling decidedly peaky. In the short version of the story, I ate a krispy kreme donut for breakfast and then had a funny turn and passed out/had a little fit/convinced myself I had gestational diabetes.

The longer version of the story involves having an emergency poo at the side of the road before I passed out, whilst having an internal dilemma over whether it was less embarrasing to point my arse towards the cars (anonymity) or my face (no exposed arse).

LOVE a good sunset

LOVE a good sunset

(I went with face, by the way, in case you’re interested)

Neil wanted to get me checked out at the hospital but that pretty much guaranteed that we were going to miss our flight and I was pretty convinced that there were both medics and English breakfasts at Stanstead airport departure lounge – both of which would probably sort me right out. By the time we ‘d got finished with the emergency poos, got through roadworks, caught the bus to the terminal and got through security, there was actually only time for the English breakfast, but luckily it seemed to do the trick as I felt much better after that.

The view from our balcony

The view from our balcony

We’d upgraded our room to a 2 bedroom family suite apartment because every time we’ve ever shared a room with Billy since he was 6 weeks old, it’s resulted in none of us getting any sleep. It turns out it that this was a Very Good Move, but not because Billy was the problem, I became the problem. Or, more specifically, my insanely loud pregnancy snoring became the problem. So I had a superkingsized bed and en suite all to myself, and my poor suffering husband bunked in with Billy in a single bed. Soz Neil.

26 weeks "all inclusive" food/baby

26 weeks “all inclusive” food/baby

GTT tests

As soon as we landed back in the UK, it was time for my Glucose Tolerance Test. Basically, in my area (other areas test everyone indiscriminately), if your BMI is over a certain number, you’re over a certain age, fit a certain ethnic profile or had a fat shit baby before (TICK), they want you to fast for 15 hours, then drink a pint of lucazade whilst they test your blood.

Bearing in mind my recent history with Krispy Kremes, this was not an experience I was looking forward to as I’d done a fairly good job of convincing myself I had the diabeetus and was going to spend the rest of this pregnancy eating lettuce. But, like all things I’m utterly dreading, it was actually FINE, and my blood sugar levels were exactly the same before the lucazade as they were 2 hours after the lucazade. I think this is a good thing? Either way, no Gestational Diabetes here, pass the Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.

My Magic Chiropractor/Wizard

Now I don’t know about everyone else, but my pregnancies seem to have been plagued by very specific and annoying ailments which appear overnight, stay for a few days and then disappear as quickly as they came on. Conveniently, they seem to disappear at the same point you reach the end of the Google search engine results pages and have tried every pregnancy safe remedy in the book. Examples of this include: insanely sensitive teeth that stop you eating or drinking, a scalp so itchy it stops you sleeping at night and mysterious hives that come and go as they damn well please.

One such ailment was the appearance of a completely dead left leg and bum cheek, which made getting up the 8 flights of stairs to the office a teensy bit tricky. After 4 days of this, I found a chiropractor that specialised in pregnant ladies and kids and families and whatnot and thought it would be worth a go.

Pretty much as soon as I booked the appointment, I got up from my desk and my left leg had magically come back to life. Bastard.

Still, with PGP/SPD rearing its ugly head, I went along for the appointment and it was the SINGLE BEST THING I’VE EVER DONE. Seriously. You don’t have to hurt when you get out of bed. Putting on your knickers needn’t be a mammoth task. She’s even cured me of heartburn! Although she’s patiently explained it to me a million times, I don’t have the foggiest how it works, but I’ve decided I don’t need to. I’m just more than happy to turn up once every couple of weeks feeling all wonky and achey, and then walk out 25 minutes later with a spring in my step and a perfectly aligned pelvis. If you’re reading this and you’re pregnant, just bloody go, you definitely won’t regret it.


This month, I was also diagnosed with anemia, which I think might have had a thing or two to do with my fainting episode, on reflection. I hate iron tablets with the fire of a thousand suns, so I looked into some alternatives and found Spa Tone sachets, which taste like shite, but don’t give you anywhere near the tummy upsets that iron tablets do. For good measure, I chucked in some Ferroglobin tablets too. Stitch that, anemia.

Definitely not thinking about squeezing that chick

Definitely not thinking about squeezing that chick

On weight gain

When I was pregnant with Billy, I pretty much avoided the scales at all costs. Except when I was in labour, when I weighed myself and got the shock of a lifetime when I discovered I’d put on 45lbs. With Billy being such a chunk, I’ve always felt a bit guilty that maybe the amount of fish and chips I ate had affected his gargantuan proportions, and vowed to eat healthier this time around.

…Which I largely have. I’ve not had the same food aversions this time around, which is good, because when you’re starving hungry but the thought of every meal under the sun makes you want to vom (with the exception of fish and chips), then fish and chips you will eat.  This time around, I’ve been able to eat a lot more protein, I’ve eaten a lot of hard boiled eggs, bagels, sultana bran, berries and dried fruit. I’ve not eaten anywhere near as many takeaways, biscuits or chocolates, so I deserve not to put on as much weight, right?

WRONG. On my 27 week blog when pregnant with Billy, I commented that I’d put on 16lbs so far. Guess how much weight I’d put on by 27 weeks this time round? 16 FREAKING LBS. I can’t wait for the 18 months or so it’ll take me to work off those 45lbs again this time around.

Next month: I pass out some more, get an ambulance called for me, but miraculously avoid emergency roadside poos (progress).


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?