17 Weeks Pregnant (Part 1): Overdoing it in Pregnancy

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I’m back to my whingey self for this update. I’ve got a funny feeling this post is going to seem more like a ‘Dear Diary’ than my usual sarcastic offerings…

Here we go.

So I’m now 17 weeks pregnant and I’m not feeling well at all.

Although the morning sickness has abated and I’m physically and emotionally in second trimester territory, I’ve been struck by every single bug and infection my little hometown has to offer. From coughs that hang around for weeks, to colds that plug your ears and make your eyes weep - I’ve had it all.

Last week saw dizzy spells and near faints that were particularly scary given I’m home alone with Dex throughout the day. Blood pressure checks and iron counts followed and it seems I’m a little low on both fronts. Everything can be resolved by medication but it’s still causing migraines that could register on the Richter scale. Every scream, bang, or cry from Dex rattles through my head like fingernails on a chalkboard.

I’m having to concede that some, if not all, of these illnesses, are probably a result of my pushing my body too far. Physically I’ve had a punishing schedule. Dexter is napping less throughout the day making it difficult to find time to relax. He’s also more active and adventurous than ever. Being so young, he’s still very susceptible to any bugs I’m carrying, so my poor little guy has had more than his fair share of tricky-to-shift colds over the last few weeks too. We’re very lucky he’s such a calm and happy toddler or things would have been even harder.

I’ve also had the odd day where I’ve pulled muscles in unthinkable places. At the Baby Show a few weekends ago, I stupidly overdid it and spent hours on my feet. As my bump is very heavy, it tested the ligaments in my upper thighs and pelvis. When we finally got home in the early evening, I was stiff and exhausted and had a mystery pain in my lower abdomen.

Ever the hypochondriac, I took to Facebook and Twitter to have a moan, and was reassured by many that I’d just tweaked a muscle. If not for social media, I’d have probably spent a long (and somewhat embarrassing) night with the drunks in A&E. Like most things it disappeared a few days after so I’d have felt like a right prat wasting time at the hospital.

We’ve also recently been made aware that our landlord’s are due to sell our house (we private rent). This is part and parcel of renting, and we had intended to upgrade to a three-bedroom property when the new baby was a few months old anyway, so it’s not so much of a disappointment as a kick up the bum. The uncertainty is a little a stressful though. Although our landlords are hopeful that we won’t have to leave the house until April, as this is baby’s due date, we’re anxious about having to undergo such upheaval immediately before the birth.

Thankfully we’ve now found a really lovely place and (fingers crossed) we should be able to move at the back end of this month instead. It’s still unconfirmed as regards notice periods at the moment, but I do feel a little better having seen a few suitable places since receiving the news. If we lose the opportunity on this house, I suspect my anxiety levels will creep up again, but right now we’re hopeful all will progress as planned. It will definitely be a relief to move in before Christmas so I can spend my last trimester stress-free (particularly given Dexter surprised us all by arriving at 38 weeks!).

So… I’m after relaxation tips in pregnancy. Thanks to Craig, I’m getting time alone in the evenings for a soak in the bath, but it would be great to grab some me-time throughout the day. Any advice gratefully appreciated.

 

 


What a Difference a Day Makes…

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Having been poorly these last few days, I’ve had to leave my poor little blog to fend for itself whilst put on a laptop-ban by Craig on bed rest. I have managed to sneakily catch up on lots of my favourite mummy blogs on my iPhone however and have been furiously scribbling down post ideas for the next few weeks.

I woke up this morning and couldn’t wait for Dexter to go down for his afternoon nap so I could jump on here and get writing. Unfortunately, he’s teething and my hospital stay (and the resulting follow-up appointments) seems to have played havoc with his routine. Because of this, Dex has been refusing to nap all day. My little red-faced protegé is now furiously rubbing his eyes and fighting sleep on the sofa beside me. I know in a few minutes I’ll be able to bundle him up and pop him upstairs in his cot for a few hours - but for some reason I feel totally stressed out.

I only had one full day away from Dexter in hospital but he’s managed to learn lots of new tricks during our time apart. He’s got the babbling down to a fine art and can now say “Mumma” and “Dada”. I always thought I’d love to hear him talk, but after the hundredth time of hearing it today, juxtaposed with some unhappy screaming and lots of tears, I’m almost desperate for a bit of quiet.

My little man is also now more mobile than ever and is now able to drag himself across the floor with his elbows (his little legs flailing hopelessly behind him). Annoyingly, he seems to have had enough of his toys and is repeatedly insisting on the following;

  • Emptying his change bag and chewing on his nappies and baby wipes
  • Hunting down my handbag and sucking on the leather straps
  • Commando rolling to the nearest plug socket and chewing on any wires

As it’s now impossible to leave him alone for 2 minutes to visit the loo or have a shower - I’m still in last night’s pyjamas, my hair hasn’t seen a hairbrush, and I’m yet to brush my teeth.

I know I’m just having a bad day and am probably still a little spaced out from the surgery, but I’m honestly sat here wondering where my smiley baby boy has gone. I’m now the proud owner of a little gremlin and have no idea what to do to placate him. I can already see it’s going to be a long old stretch to the weekend…

 

 

 

 

 

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