Tag Archives: opinion

Thoughts on Pregnancy: Second Time Round

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I had just come to the conclusion that one child was plenty enough thank you,  when I found out I was pregnant.

My first thought was: oh shit.

My second thought was: oh shit, I can’t drink anything now.  HOW AM I GOING TO COPE?!

My third thought was: oh god, I’m not going to sleep until 2020.

Don’t get me wrong, I am pleased that we are having another baby. It’s taken long enough. But this time things are just a bit different.

When people ask me “is this pregnancy different to the first?” I immediately think: of course this pregnancy is different.

For a start, I’ve been sleep deprived for most of the last 3 years. So, you know, that adds a little edge to things. Also, this time I can’t just lie on the sofa and do nothing all evening when I feel ill. This time, I have a three year old who still wants you to hold them as you walk along the pavement and who wants me to be the fairy godmother when she’s playing Cinderella.

This time around, I have no time (or energy for that matter) for yoga or swimming. I am drinking too much caffiene and I accidentally ate a cheese board the day after I found out I was pregnant because I forgot about the whole “don’t eat cheese” thing.

This time, I hardly have any time to actually think I am pregnant at all.

I also have the benefit/disadvantage of knowing exactly what I’ve let myself in for. I can learn from my previous experience and I know for sure what I want and don’t want to happen this time. But I know one thing I can’t avoid and that is I’ll still have to push this Bubba out of my Va-Jay-Jay. And I know it fricking hurts.

This time, I pay a fleeting glance to emails telling me my baby weighs the same as an avocado. I don’t have the 26 apps I had last time, all telling me the same information that I poured over night after night. I bought actual books last time to read and studied like I was a student midwife.

I might try and do some pelvic floor excersizes on the way to work if I sneeze and start to panic, unlike the military set schedule I had 3 years ago. (Seriously I bet I could’ve cracked nuts with my pelvic floor).

I don’t have to buy anything this time round; I have everything going moldy in the garage. I just need to have a day sometime to go and bleach it all down. But I have plenty of time for that.

I am not sure if I can be described as “glowing” second time round. I frequently forget to brush my hair and put make up on, meaning I look more like a character out of The Walking Dead each day. Hell, I haven’t even shaved my legs this year yet. I used to pour over maternity sections in shops choosing jeans and dresses that accentuated my bump. This time I’m just wearing leggings and baggy dresses. Looking like a pregnant bag lady is quite a skill you know.

Oh, and symptoms: if you’re any different to last time (which, in fairness was 3 years ago so how could you even remember) then you must be having a boy. Or a girl. Or a hairy baby.

I know I am lucky to experience this again. I am grateful for this experience, no matter how tired I am or messy looking I become. Once August is here, we will have our little family complete and that will be a great feeling. I am looking forward to baby snuggles and seeing Nancy’s face when she sees her brother or sister.

And also, I’ll never have to be pregnant again.

Feeling Grateful

There are so many things to be grateful for.

Sometimes I have to stop and think about these things when I am feeling a little down. 

When I wish life were a little bit different.

When things don’t pan out the way I want them to.

When I wish it was me, but it isn’t. 

When I feel overwhelmed with work and being a Mum.

I have to remember that I have a pretty good life. 

I don’t want for much. I have a loving family, partner, daughter.

I have my health. I am generally in good health, although I do need to lose weight. 

I can go out when I want, I buy myself nice things.

I don’t have to worry about debt. 

I have a roof over my head, my own home. 

I am loved. 

I have so many positives in my life, I need to make sure that any negatives do not outweigh this, or take over my thoughts.

Many negatives are just in my own mind. I need to flip these thoughts and turn the negativity into some positive energy. 

I have really enjoyed reading and taking part in Embrace Happy with Karin and writing down my #3goodthings every day. 

Karin has written about appreciating little moments this week and this is something I am trying to do. 

One example of this was this weekend. Nancy and I were at home, and we put Winnie the Pooh on Netflix. Nancy had never seen it before,many she was mesmerised by the cartoon. As we watched, she hugged me and put her cheek next to mine, asking me questions about the characters as we watched. It was such a lovely, little perfect moment. 

I also read Katie Piper’s Book Start Your Day with Katie each morning. Having the thought in my head as I leave the house does help me get into a better frame of mind. 

Walking more, getting more active and eating healthier definitely helps me to feel more positive too. 

When things get tough for me, or stressful, I have to remember that my troubles are nothing compared to some people living out there. I need to keep in mind the here and now, and enjoy the here and now, letting go of the little niggles and embracing my life as it is. My life now, as it is, is good.  And even if this is the best it gets, this is good, it is better than good. 

I need to feel thankful, and grateful for my lot. And I am. 

Embracing the Mess

The other day, Nancy asked to go into the garden.

Ok, I said.  I was watching her like a hawk. Like one of the guards in a prison like Orange is the New Black. “Don’t touch this, don’t touch that!” “You’ll get MESSY!” I threatened, panicky and nervous that I would have to clean up, re-dress, re-change.

It’s the same when she gets her felt tips out, I feel my blood pressure rising.

“Put the caps on!” “Write on the paper!” “Argh you’ll do something in a minute to ruin my carpet!”

She got Play-doh for her birthday, which I hid.

She started to get funny about dirt, or food or pen on her hands, wanting to wash it off instantly.

Then it hit me: Where’s the fun in this? 

She needs to explore, and learn, and get messy.  She shouldn’t be afraid of getting messy, of having dirt on her hands. She should be playing in the mud, picking up worms, learning about the world around her. At nursery she is always rolling around in shaving foam and bits of pasta. Why can’t I do the same with her at home? What’s my problem?

Because it is my problem. I am stopping her doing things because I am worried I will have to clean up or sort out the mess. Granted, I don’t want her painting with Nutella all over my walls, and there has to be limits, but can’t I do some messy activities with her?

So, I embraced it. I set her free into the Garden, and I went with her. I took a big deep breath and I let her get muddy, and messy.

We planted seeds and dug up mud in the flower bed. We watered the garden. We spotted worms and watered the garden a bit more. She had a fantastic time. I had a good time. Yes, she got a bit muddy, yes our hands were filthy, but when we came in we stripped off and we washed our hands, and that was it, done. It felt good to have been out in the fresh air, to see her face as we explored the garden and when she found things such as the worm. Her face when she tried to weed my flowers and her delight at watering the garden.

Then another day, she found a big tub of crafty bits I’d bought ages ago, and asked if we could use them. I must admit my heart sank a little.

“Nnnnnno…” was on my lips, but then I stopped myself. I said “Yes” instead and we got out the crafts and we got out the glue and we got out the glitter and we made a little picture. And it was good, and fun. It was a bit messy, and things got everywhere, and at times I felt like saying “stop!” but she loved it. I loved it.

Ah, and then the Playdoh. I relented and got out the playdoh. We got out some cookie cutters, a fork, anything to make some pretty prints and marks in the play doh. We made pretend food and we made wriggly worms to her delight. She ‘fed’ her toy baby playdoh pasta, which was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. I tried not to think about the state of my floor or the inevitability that a minute speck of playdoh will soon reach my carpet and that’ll be it.

I am starting to say Yes, I am starting to embrace the mess, embrace the fun.  It means that we have spent quite a few hours now doing some lovely things together, with no TV, no ipad. It has been positive, and happy and I haven’t been moany old mum who’s scared of a pair of muddy jeans.

I clean up, happy that we have spent fun time together, that we have made (sometimes quite literally) some memories. Every mark on my carpet has a story to tell, every pen mark I wash from my hands remains there invisible, a mark of a time I spent playing with my girl. I quite enjoy it really. Apart from touching worms, coz that’s a bit icky.

Short Thoughts 8/3/15

Occasional Insights into my Brain… 

Short Shorts and tights combo is not a look I want to replicate

90s is now considered “vintage” – I wish I’d kept my cullottes and a pair of kickers shoes now

And how old does that make you feel when 90s is like what the 70s (or 40s/50s/60s depending on age)…was when we were growing up…..mind boggles

I broke my necklace, had tea accidentally spilt on me, and nearly walked into the gents toilets yesterday but still it was a good day

I’ve learnt how to take nice photos so you will be astounded by my photography skills (see below) but I have to lie everything flat including children

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Sometimes you meet a few people  and they instantly make you laugh and you know you could be good friends but you hope you didn’t come across as a complete raving idiot

Bryan Ferry hasn’t aged well. Some things are best left in the past

Yesterday I referred to Lionel Ritchie as a historical insignificance, which I now regret

Staying focused and true to yourself is the best way to be.

I’m embracing happy 🙂

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Short Thoughts 10/2/15

Today I am going to try and be less angry, and eat less chocolate.

I need to think of chocolate as poison. Evil poison.

I mustn’t let silly little things get to me so much.

My other half put the washing on yesterday but left the washing liquid out, so now I have nothing to wear, unless I want to wear smelly wet clothes

I don’t rate Sam Smith all that much.

So tired and my brain is scrambled.

Chinese is one of your five-a-day, right?

This time two years ago, I was as big as a whale, overdue. Nothing’s changed that much.

Did I mention I was tired?

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Nobody Thinks About After Babyhood….

Nobody asks for a 2 year old. Nobody gets pregnant and thinks ahead 2 years.

Before, when I was thinking about getting pregnant, and when I was pregnant, all I thought about was babies. Little, chubby little babies. You know, the ones that giggle and laugh through nappy adverts. That’s as far as I could think. Just having the baby was something I could barely contemplate. Giving birth was my biggest fear.

Well, I’ve been there, and I’ve done that.

Not many people talk to you about after babyhood. Everyone loves to coo and goes bananas about babies, feeding, weaning, poo, wee, blankets, toys, winding, baby smells, lullabies – you catch my drift. Having a baby is a total shock, like drowning before being rescued and then taking a massive intake of breath as you wake up to this reality which is nothing like you remember. You wear heaviness like a blanket. But babies are babies, and eventually you do sort of get the knack, even if they throw you a curve ball.

As they get older, people, and advice, start to drift away. Which is nice, actually. Life goes from new to…normal. Having this little person is no novelty. It’s real. Everyone gets to know each other. Lines are redrawn. Lives are adjusted. Babies turn to toddlers. And they start to be….them. A personality, a character. Thoughts independent, unknown and secret. They have a will, and they want their way.

Suddenly, you look down at this little person, with a scarily large head, who’s actually talking to you, and it hits you, you wonder how this has happened at all.

You have a 2 year old. A person. This was all your own fault.

And this is the unchartered territory. This is the bit that I should’ve worried a bit about. When a 2 year old kicks off, no one is there quoting anything at you, you can’t think back to that antenatal class which showed you the correct position to rugby tackle your toddler as they run off in Sainsbury’s Car Park.

This is really when parenthood begins. She’s looking up to me and she thinks I know everything. And I have to pretend that I do.

I never really thought about what it meant to be a parent. The baby bit was all I could even imagine. To be here now, it’s wonderful, exciting, terrifying. I think I’m doing alright. I know there are books and TV shows and yes a lot of great blogs out there I can refer to, but nothing really prepares you for having a little person. Your little person. You just want to make everything perfect for them, and I’m sure, to them, it is.

But I’m cacking myself.

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Short thoughts 5/2/14

Almost daily insights into my brain…..

I found out today what Beyoncé was warbling about when she was talking about drinking watermelon. Urgh.

Yesterday I realised I hadn’t got dressed, washed or brushed my teeth today. At about 6pm. Nice.

I feel like I meet so many people who I just KNOW I would be such good friends with, if only they didn’t live bloody miles away. Sometimes I feel lonely.

Marvellous creations popping candy is my nemesis. And probably the reason I’m still fat, tbh.

It hit me today that my little girl is 2 this month. Where the hell did 2 years go. No, seriously. Where did they go?

I haven’t sorted out a birthday party or anything. I’m pretty shit at that sort of thing. I sort of wish I could forget about it, really.

I want to do so many things I just need to actually do them, book tickets, make arrangements, live my life.

I keep writing 01/14 when I write the date, I can’t get used to it. I’m living in the past.

Losing My Identity?

One thing I am rather concerned about is losing my identity as a person, once Ive had the baby. I suspect if anyone is reading this who has had a baby, will be laughing at that statement right now.

As things draw nearer to the due date, an overwhelming feeling of unsettlment and fear is coming over me. How much of the ‘me’ I now know, will be there once the baby has been born and sleep deprivation has destroyed many of my brain cells?

I am also wondering how I will be as a ‘Mum’, Just referring myself as a Mum at the moment makes me feel a bit awkward. I don’t ‘feel’ like a Mum. What does a Mum feel like anyway?

Another thought of mine is that I dont really want to be like my own mother. I wonder if everyone says that?! Is it part of nature that you metamorhasise into your own mother?!

There are parts of ,my Mum I of course want to be like. I love my Mum but I dont neccessarily agree with everything she has done to bring me up as well as my siblings. I know we all make mistakes but surely there are things we can take from our upbringing and make concious decisions about how we want to bring up our children in comparison to how we were brought up?

A lot of my friends don’t live near me and so I am also aware I need to make a big effort to start making friends which are baby related. Living in bristol I know a lot of people but havent really found a group of friends like myself, work doesnt help as I work with mainly people over the age of 40 which never really meant wild nights out.

I appear to and I can be rather critical, and I have quite a dark sense of humour which sometimes people just don’t ‘get’. I love having a laugh and I enjoy a glass of wine and a boogey once and a while. I just hope that I can keep myself and extend myself as a Mum rather than turn myself into a totally different person. And I hope this means that as a Mum I get to make ‘mum’ friends who are also like me.

People don’t really talk about what it feels like to be a Mum and how it changes you as a person, as your identity changes. At this moment in time I can’t comprehend how this baby will make me feel, how it will change me, and I suspect all this other stuff will fade into significance. But as long as I can try and hold on to the essence of me, I’m hoping that it will be OK.