Some (most?) of you are probably aware, due to the wonders of Facebook, but I am duffed. Knocked up. Bun in da oven. I am due at the end of May, which makes me about 12 weeks pregnant now. Hence the recent lack of content on this here blog and the general radio silence.
I am super duper excited/terrified about doing it all again. If all goes to plan, the bub will be born a week before Archie’s 2nd birthday. And obviously I will be claiming the ‘two kids under two’ tag for that one week, coupled with many solidarity fist pumps with other mums in the trenches.
One of my oldest friends had a beautiful baby girl last Friday. We visited them yesterday and good lord, I’m glad I am already preggers because I was SO CLUCKY. I forgot how teeny tiny newborns are (granted, Archie was never actually that tiny. He went straight into clothes meant for three month old babies and into nappies means for crawlers. What a unit.) and how magic and special the whole birth and motherhood thing is. WE MAKE PEOPLE.
So, back to me. I am beginning to think that perhaps I do not do pregnancy well. Yes, I have been feeling pretty bloody shite. There has been much vomiting. There has been gagging over prenatal vitamins. There has been a hacking cough which led to me begging a pharmacist for pseudoephedrine and then imaginary-punching her when she suggested I try honey and ice cubes. I have eaten more McDonalds than I care to admit, and a tin of pineapple in one sitting.
I also started going to horrendously expensive and painful preventative pilates classes to hopefully stop the godawful pelvic pain hell that I went through last time. Because no 175cm thick-thighed heavily pregnant woman should have to use crutches.
So I already have a ridiculously large and truck-like double pram purchased off eBay. Picking the pram up from the seller’s house made it fairly obvious that a) I need a bigger car and b) I need to work on my upper body strength if I ever want to actually use said pram. I folded it down as best I could, then had to take out the carseat and fold down both back seats to fit the freaking thing into my teeny hatchback. The seller lady was trying to help as I was awkwardly slamming the boot on the pram and sweating and nervously laughing. That was not my best moment.
So, high fives for more tiny people in my life!