Tag Archives: Sciatica

Mar 4 2014

33 Weeks Pregnant & Lemonade Gets me All Excited

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As I’ll be 38 weeks as March disappears into April, I think by then I’ll have served my time. So this weekend Mini Madam had her eviction notice well and truly served.

Week 33 was an interesting one. MM has shifted on upwards and is now (crucially) off my sciatic nerve. This has meant, for the first time since January, I am now able to zip up my own boots. I also had a bit of wind a few days ago (I can now safely put this down to the entire 2 litre bottle of lemonade I consumed whilst catching up on One Born Every Minute) which saw me frantically googling labour pains and repacking my hospital bag with excitement bordering on hysteria. Needless to say, a few burps later and the panic was over.

33 weeks bump 33 Weeks Pregnant & Lemonade Gets me All Excited

It’s getting difficult to do basic things and I had to call Craig to help me shave my legs a few days ago. I figured it was this or potentially go into labour looking like a PG Tips chimp. Given most of the midwives at my local hospital went to school with me and could blackmail me on Facebook, I couldn’t face the shame.

Speaking of Facebook - I’m dropping from people’s timelines like no ones business. I’m learning the hard way that first babies are big news, second babies are timeline-clutter. I toyed with the idea of running a mini competition to guess Mini Madam’s weight, but I’m guessing I’d get an embarrassingly small number of comments that would send my pregnancy hormones into overdrive.

The deliveries were thick and fast last week and the guy from UPS began to look more and more haggard with each new parcel he lugged up the hill to my front door. Our bednest is now in place and ready for it’s new tenant, and we’re drowning in clothes and blankets that haven’t found their way to drawers yet. The whole operation resembles a stockroom at Babies R Us. Everything is still wrapped in cellophane and looking too new and perfect. Nothing like our actual home which looks like Dexter has invited around 30 of his playmates for a messy play soiree. I’m just too exhausted and ‘wide’ to do any housework.

This week (34) is the biggie. We’re off to see the consultant on Thursday (imagine a less jovial Anne Hegerty from The Chase, and you’re not far off!) who will scan me for the final time to determine Mini Madam’s position. If she’s still breech, there’s little that can be done. I suspect my consultant will still try to push the ‘cheaper’ VBAC option and advise me to spend the next few evenings ‘dipping my hips’ and contorting like a member of Spelbound. But Craig and I will pull the plug at this point and insist on a date for an elective Cesarian. I’m too anxious about this birth to leave it to chance.

Right now my guess is that she’ll defy all odds and be head-down by Thursday. This will send me into an entirely new panic and force me to discover a whole new world of Ugly - perineal massages, tweaking nipples and birthing balls… Oh the joy.

 

Feb 26 2014

32 Weeks Pregnant!

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… And it’s taking forever! Given I’ve had a severe case of insomnia over the last few weeks, the days seem to be taking twice as long. I’m not sure why I can’t sleep but I can guess at anxiety - I know I’ve been over-the-top upset about name choices. Stupid I know. I can just see us repeating the same mistake we made with Dexter and bickering at the registry office! It’s so much responsibility picking a name for someone to live with for the rest of their lives; something cool, something unique. something that can be shortened. something that sounds great on a CV, something an Olympian might be called…

Then there’s the usual niggling feeling that something might be wrong with her. Of course we’ll love her whatever the future holds, but every mother wants a healthy baby. I get incredibly panicky about all the times I’ve forgotten to take a vitamin tablet, or had a half a lager with my dinner. Then there’s the times I haven’t eaten my broccoli as I’d run out of gravy… it’s all very ridiculous.

117 32 Weeks Pregnant!

Of course One Born Every Minute also started again this week and I defy any pregnant woman not to watch it. Although I tell myself it’s all good research, it does scare me to death. One of this week’s couples (Michelle and Micheal) had me inches from the television screen sobbing as he missed his daughter’s birth. As Craig plans on working until the last-minute and is often 100 miles from home, it’s got me worrying that I won’t have a familiar face in the room either. Given he’s also teasing me about going to his school reunion the week I’m due, I have this fear he’ll be staggering through the hospital stinking of beer and insulting all the midwives! If it’s going to happen to anyone, it’ll happen to us.

Physically, my sciatica has been a little better this week, but I’m still on the loo every 5 minutes. My boobs have also ramped up their milk-making endeavours with the occasional leak (I told you pregnancy was ugly). My stretch marks are also getting more and more pronounced and I’ve grown a double chin overnight. I wouldn’t mind any of these transformations, but walking around The Baby Show this week and seeing so many beautiful women who have kept up the spray tans, freshly-styled hair and full face of slap, I’m feeling like the frumpiest mum-to-be in the world. I’ve made a mental note to at least waddle to the beautician for a wax before the big day. Let’s face it, what we don’t see on One Born Every Minute is the midwives giggling about the lady gardens they’ve encountered that day in the staff room!

Apparently, baby is around 4lbs and 18 inches at this point, and it’s still slightly too early to rush down to Holland and Barrett for raspberry tea. She’s cramming in all the study time she can to perfect those survival skills she’ll need to thrive outside the womb — from swallowing and breathing to kicking and sucking. She also looks less opaque now and her skin colour is beginning to look more like her mum and dads (and less like Casper) - great stuff.

Just hurry Mini Madam. Mummy has had enough. I’d much rather be up at 3am nursing you, than watching television for the hard of hearing. Oh and if you can pick a side and stick to it at night it would be really helpful.

 

Feb 19 2014

31 Weeks Pregnant

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… And I’ve had enough. In fact, I’m counting down the days until I can serve Mini Madam with an eviction notice without being seen to be willing on prematurity. The thought of another 9 weeks (2+ months!) of swollen hips, uncontrollable moodiness, and cries of “Ooompf” when I accidentally stomach crunch my little girl, seems like nothing short of punishment.

Dex 31 Weeks Pregnant

It’s taking sooo long, even Dexter needed reminding.

Now all my final appointments are booked, there’s nothing to do but wait. In a few short weeks, we’ll discover how this birth plan is going to play out and whether April will see #Labour tweets and unsightly pictures of me flailing around on a birthing ball from inside the Royal Berks Hospital.

My once pert little bump is now a sagging lump like an old sofa cushion riding low on my pelvis, and I’m now kicking myself that I didn’t undergo hypnotherapy to kick my cherry bakewell habit in the first trimester. This has bought on a relatively new phenomena for me - stretchmarks. In fact my belly now looks like the glaze on a loaf of tiger bread. No amount of smothering myself in Bio Oil seems to shift them and I’m slowly facing up to the fact that my bikini days are now definitely over.

SPD and sciatica continue to plague me at each at every waking moment. I’m getting by on around 4 hours sleep at night and as many naps as Dexter will allow. I’m definitely struggling to switch off as the pressure to get our 52 name shortlist down to 10 heats up. This insomnia is real problem and I’m positively hideous to be around. I’ve caught Craig camping out in the kitchen a few times and his eyes will widen in fear if I go within 3 metres of him.

When I’m not being as evil and cynical as Katie Hopkins, I’m usually crying at something ridiculous on the television. Coverage of the floods on the news, the sheer offensiveness of Mister Maker’s theme tune, or the GB curling team at the Sochi Winter Olympics… yes curling. What has my life come to?

31 weeks 31 Weeks Pregnant

Preparations for baby’s arrival are still woefully underfunded. With not one but two insurance claims put in this week (one a result of a nasty car accident) we’re berating ourselves for not having attacked the January sales with more ferocity. She now has a bath, and all the furniture she needs, and I’m delighted that she’ll be spending her first few month in an NCT bedside crib courtesy of Bednest, but she’s looking set to be a right exhibitionist as we haven’t bought her a single sleepsuit or babygrow. My breastfeeding ambitions better go to plan too as there are no bottles in the kitchen cupboard either > This is all a little woe-is-me isn’t it? We’re not as poor as I make out, but it certainly feels like it sometimes.

I was very close to reneging on the No Pink rule this week too. Having had my head turned by a seriously cute Laura Ashley print, I very nearly abandoned the grey and yellow nursery theme in favour of chintzy flowers. Thankfully Craig caught me just as the mouse cursor hovered over the checkout button and he gave me a stern talking to. I can now safely say I’m back on track and thinking rationally again.

So that’s it. This is the person I am at 31 weeks pregnant. Please tell me it gets quicker from here on in - Please, please, please.

 

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