I’ve reached the blooming stage of pregnancy. Which translates to “I wish this blooming pregnancy would hurry up and be blooming over”.
And then I feel ungrateful.
This is my last pregnancy and it was 18 months in the making with an angel lost along the way. It is so very precious. But…
Urgh, morning sickness. This time it was like travel sickness and the world spun solidly for 16 weeks. Whilst at the same time my breasts were two gigantic balls of fire and pain.
SPD kicked in at 8 weeks and by 16 I had to start using crutches to walk even short distances. The constant pain is tiring but I know that it’s not forever so I try not to moan and just get on with things the best I can. I look around the house and wish I could clean it properly, or tidy it totally, or play with the boys and chase them, or even just push them on a swing. However, I’ve had it each time so I was expecting it.
I have dandruff, my skin is terrible, I can’t cope with the heat, I have almost permanent heartburn which even has the audacity to wake me in the night (in between loo trips) and let’s not even mention piles.
Now I’ve been diagnosed with gestational diabetes and anaemia. What on earth will be next?
Whinge whinge whinge.
You could say that pregnancy doesn’t agree with me and you’d be right. But I know from the two boys I already have that as soon as I hold my newborn in my arms, I’d do it all again and more. Only this time I won’t be doing it again and I already feel sad about it.
I find the last few weeks the most terrifying, having a family history of neonatal death and stillbirth means I won’t relax until my baby is here safe and sound. Which is the only good thing about having to have an elcs this time – it will be at 38 weeks.
So no, I’m not blooming, but pregnancy is still marvellous and I know that despite all of the above, I’ll look back on this time fondly, through rose-tinted specs and wish that I could do it all again.