Carpal Tunnel Syndrome | My Mills Baby

So I’m now 25 weeks pregnant (although I prefer to tell myself I have only have 15 weeks to go). I’m actually feeling a little brighter this week (try not to faint in shock) but that’s probably down to the fact I’ve been a busy bee with my birthday celebrations and various other distractions.

My Yoga DVD has arrived (courtesy of those poor overworked people at Amazon) yet is still sat in its wrapper in the kitchen - if DVDs had eyes, this one would be eyeballing me accusingly every time I pour myself a glass of orange juice. In fact, I give it two more days and Craig will start moaning about it too. He bought it for me to help ease the tension in my muscles, and the fact it’s yet to say hello to the DVD player must be incredibly irritating.

Bump 25 Weeks 25 Weeks Pregnant!

In actual fact, I have been feeling a little more flexible in the mornings this week. I put it down to the fact that Dexter is transitioning from cotbed to big boy bed so I wake up totally paranoid and spring out of bed like the house is on fire. Nothing takes your mind off all the stiffness quite like the fear of discovering your child is eerily staring at you as you sleep (just inches away from your face), or catching him mid-experiment trying to work out if your iPhone (stealthily plucked from your bedside drawer) will float in the en suite toilet.

The strangest symptom this week has definitely been my lack of appetite. In fact, I weighed myself a few days ago and was shocked to discover I weigh less than I did before I got pregnant! Now I know I’ve ‘made friends’ with the loo these last few months but this seems impossible to me. I’m forever underestimating just how wide a berth my belly needs when I’m out and about, and am consequently always banging it against lamp posts, doors and well everything really - I can’t believe baby + her baggage could possibly weigh any less than Ronnie Corbett! Here’s hoping when she’s here and we’ve got the whole breastfeeding thing nailed, I’ll have dropped a few dress sizes.

Still I know that (despite the daily bashing) Mini Madam is perfectly healthy as she’s up all night bouncing in my tummy. It’s one wild party animal I have in there as she crams in the sleep she needs during the day instead. I’m hoping against hope this won’t be her routine when she’s here in person!

I’ve also now reached the point where I can’t physically do up my jacket and my boots won’t zip up over my calf muscles. This means I’m rocking tatty Converses and Craig’s sweatshirts when I’m out and about. A few days ago I sat on a park bench to rest my weary ankles, and a passerby tried to plonk 20p into my frappuccino cup! Looking back on this now I can giggle, but at the time I was suitably mortified! Never again will I leave the house without make up on!

Having caught up with some serious reading over the New Year - I can now report that Mini Madam now has open nostrils, a gum full of teeth buds, and is covered in a soft layer of protective hair (lanugo). If she did decide to make a dash for it now, she’d have a 1 in 4 change of survival. Despite this, a quick Google search of pics of 25 week foetuses suggests there’s a remarkably life-like baby chilling out in my belly (I’m not quite sure what I expected… a cartoon version perhaps). Still, I’ll give it another 14 weeks before I start sipping on the raspberry tea, begging Craig for an Indian, or dragging him upstairs for an early night - she can stay right where she is.

Until next time guys!

You might think that Christmas and the impending New Year celebrations would have taken my mind off this pregnancy and the fact I’m sharing my entire body with Mini Madam this week. But nope - I’m more miserable than ever. I’ve moaned about pretty much everything - from Christmas tv (is it just me or has Star Wars been on everyday?), to Craig’s depleted version of the Christmas food shop, to the ending of Under the Dome - the 1000 pager by Stephen King I’ve been battling for the last few weeks.

In fact, I’ve been worse than Katie Hopkins with PMT this week. It’s led to bickering on an epic scale. Sometimes the arguments have gone a little far and one of us (okay me, always me) will go off for a 2 hour sulk in the bedroom. These self-imposed periods of exile usually end when I’ve seen something on Amazon I want to buy and need Craig’s credit card details.

When I think back to some of things that have led to this over-dramatic stair-trudging and door slamming you have to laugh. I sulked on Boxing Day because Craig suggested I get some exercise to counteract all the stiffness in my shoulders and lower back. This was a sulk made all the more pathetic by the fact that I’ve already gone ahead and bought a Pregnancy Yoga DVD to try to sort out my gammy back anyway! I must admit that I never thought I’d ever re-live my Space Hopper days and roll around on inflatable balls again, especially now my uterus is the size of a football. I hate all that “centre of gravity / grounding yourself” rubbish and would rather stick pins under my fingernails than sit through a track by Enya, so have deliberately bought a DVD that promises none of the usual “I’m a tree” crap.

It’s true I needed to try something as I’ve woken up in tears over the last few weeks and struggle to extracate Dexter from his cot prison in the mornings. I’ve also convinced Craig to buy a super kingsize bed (that will barely fit in our bedroom) and have insisted he cram a maternity pillow under his belly when he goes to sleep so I’m not suffering alone.

Despite all this moaning, this pregnancy continues to speed by, I can’t believe I’m already 24 weeks pregnant. There’s still so much to buy and prepare that I’m getting really nervous we’ll run out of time before Mini Madam moves in with us properly. For some reason Craig seems to have a bit of a mental block when it comes to this baby and prefers to buy things for the little man currently ruining my lounge. I know he’s not doing this deliberately, and it’s not because this time we have a person of the female persuasion joining the family, it’s simply because it’s far easier to buy for someone you can actually see and feel, rather than someone who seems so far away yet is actually pounding my insides everyday.

index1 24 Weeks Pregnant Youre Gonna Hear Me Roar

Toddler Bump Bonding

Speaking of Dexter, he seems to have a newfound appreciation of mummy’s curves this week. He’s taken to scaling my belly like Edmund Hiliary conquering Everest when I’m relaxing on the sofa. He can get quite rough, kneeing my boobs and jumping on my legs but I’m assured that no amount of toddler / bump bonding will harm Mini Madam.

There’s been tons of kicking which is really comforting but does make me question when she actually sleeps! Apparently foetuses manage the same number of hours as a newborn (so pretty much 14 hours a day) - but my little girl seems to be up and practicing gymnastics every moment of the day. She’s particularly active at night which is a pain when you’re also dealing with a fretful and snoring bed mate (you have no idea how close I’ve come to smothering him with a pillow at 3am). It also feels incredibly low meaning my bladder takes a real pounding daily and I barely go an hour without visiting the loo. Given morning sickness has also returned with a vengeance, I feel like I’m right back in first trimester territory again.

I seem to have developed a dairy intolerance too. A round of cheese on toast saw me doubled over the loo last week, so that’s ruled out a good proportion of my favourite foods. Sigh.

Right that’s it. I’m sure anyone who started reading this, gave up two paragraphs in anyway. Until next week….

Gems