Don’t know if I overdid it with the swimming and DIY, but I’ve started to feel really, really rundown and tired this week. I’ve come to the conclusion that my brief pregnancy bloom has most definitely shrivelled up and gone.
After long chats on the phone to Usha, we’ve realised that no-one – not even your own mum – tells you that pregnancy turns you into an old-age pensioner before your time. If it’s proof you’re after, how about the fact that along with chronic indigestion, swollen feet and incontinence, I’ve started getting aches and pains in my legs and my groin (how charming) when I’m walking, or rather, waddling along the road to the bus stop each morning?
Add to that the fact that I’ve now started to groan, in a most senior fashion whenever I get out of bed or get up from sitting down. (Which is extremely irritating at home as Nick keeps taking the mickey by groaning for me whenever I move.) According to my reckoning, this behaviour already puts me at around 70-years-old and I’ve still got ten weeks to go, so goodness knows what I’ll feel like when I reach my due date – any bets on 110?
Went to another antenatal class this week and it was really useful – if a bit scary – as it was all about pain relief in labour. We had to practise doing relaxation exercises, which was going quite well and I’d just about pictured myself lying under a palm tree on a deserted beach in Thailand, when I was rudely brought back to reality by the cleaners bashing and crashing about in the room next door. Ended up sitting next to Gina again, and we’ve agreed to meet up for tea and a chat after the classes finish next week.
Gina is finishing work next week, lucky thing. I’ve still got another three weeks to go and I can’t wait for them to be over. I am feeling so big now everything is a real effort and I am tired all the time. Mind you, this is partly because I am getting up every hour or so during the night to go to the loo. I try to be as quiet as possible but Nick often wakes up when I get out of bed so he’s pretty shattered, too. I think he’s on constant alert in case it’s the baby, even though I keep reassuring him that there’s still ages to go.
The baby’s movements are now getting so big that I can actually see bits of my bump wiggling about in a really spooky fashion. I’m trying to figure out what’s moving, and I think it’s the knees (or maybe the bum) lodged up underneath my chest, which means I get big kicks either side of my bump. This has led to a great new game that I like playing in the bath – ‘Bash the Soap’ – every time I put the soap on a different place on my bump the baby kicks it off. This gives us both hours of fun!
P.S. Haven’t told Nick about the new bath game of course, as I know he’d take this as further proof that I’m carrying a mini-Messi – either that, or that I’d finally lost my marbles.