Tuesday, February 7, 2012


Oh dear.  Harried Mum hasn't posted in a while.  This is for a variety of not particularly good reasons, the most interesting of which is that I'm pregnant.  Yes.  Lunatic Child is going to get a sibling on or about June 26.  I'm already calling this one Trouble, as I suspect that's what I'm going to be in when trying to cope with 2 of them. 

Trouble has provided a very different pregnancy experience than Lunatic Child.  I sailed through pregnancy with Lunatic Child, including multiple overseas trips into my 32nd week of pregnancy.  I had no morning sickness at all and generally felt pretty OK.  

This did not stop me from CONSTANTLY moaning throughout my entire pregnancy with Lunatic Child.  I don't enjoy pregnancy.  I don't "glow".  I'm not "blooming".  I'm not feeling the high involved with creating life.  For me, it's all about the fat ankles, ridiculous boobs and myriad indignities that pregnancy brings.  Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.  I mean, isn't it bad enough you can't get off the couch without saying "oof"?  Do you really have to be constipated as well?  It's all so UNFAIR.

Despite all the snivelling, I knew Lunatic Child was an easy pregnancy.  In contrast, I had a miserable first trimester with Trouble.  And by miserable, I mean that I felt a bit sick and tired.  (See above, re: moaning).  It was like I was constantly hung over for 3 months.  If it was socially acceptable to subsist on macaroni and cheese, I would have.  I also wanted to nap.  A lot.  Hence, no blogging.

I'm feeling much better now.  I'm also happy I'm finally out of the "Has she just got a bit fat, or is she pregnant?" stage.  I'm not happy about maternity jeans.  I mean, seriously.  Can no one make a pair that don't immediately fall off your butt the first time you sit down?

As I am older now and in the "decrepit maternal age" category, and also because I'm having Trouble in the U.S., I have been bemused by the differences in pre-natal care.  I've given a lot more blood to the cause.  I've peed in a lot more cups. I've generally been poked and prodded and tested a lot more.  I see the obstetrician at every appointment as opposed to a midwife or nurse practitioner.  Additionally, and scandalously, we are going to be hundreds if not thousands of dollars out-of-pocket with Trouble, and this despite Fun Daddy having "comprehensive" insurance through work.  Seriously, US.  Get your sh*t together on the healthcare front.  It's ridiculous. 

My obstetrician is nice, but very firm.  After she weighed me on the second visit, she basically told me to lay off the cake, fatty.  In pretty much those exact words.  Sadly, she was probably right about this, as last week, I broke one of our kitchen chairs when I sat on it.  I was leaning over to prevent Lunatic Child from some wanton act of self-destruction, when the whole front leg gave way.  I told Fun Daddy, looking for some love and sympathy.  Instead I've had a lot of "who ate all the pie" jokes made at my expense.  Pregnancy.  It's just not dignified.

No comments:

Post a Comment