I’m 38 years old and 23 weeks pregnant with my third child. This week it’s my brain that has decided to jump on the pregnancy syndrome bandwagon.
I can’t remember anything it would seem. I can’t remember the little things like where my phone might be or where the house keys are. Yesterday I finally discovered my phone perched atop a tin of baked beans in the kitchen cupboard – come on brain that’s not on. I put the bread in the sink, the dates in the washing machine and the freshly laundered bath towels in the tea-towel cupboard – brain won’t you just play fair?
My eldest told me in his casual manner that I am much dumber now that I’m pregnant. I had to agree – I have most certainly come down with a dose of the fog of pregnancy. I desperately hope that this is as bad as it gets because if it is a cumulative affair I doubt I will even remember who I am by the time I reach 40 weeks – maybe that’s a good thing, eh?
How I am feeling.
In addition to the irritating forgetfulness there is the wind. I am suffering from the most excruciating trapped wind. It strikes in the evening and lodges itself right above my bump and nothing shifts it other than sleep. It is yet another one of the undignified aspects of pregnancy that I must suffer.
On the jolly side I saw a gorgeous organza white and yellow dress as I wobbled along the isles of a shop this week. It was probably for a four year old girl and as I looked at it I was overcome by the first rush of ‘oh my it’s a girl’. That was a good moment.
They are super. My husband continues to work on the house in his every spare moment and my children continue to pamper me at every given opportunity.
My ten year old has read about pregnancy in a book he has about the body. He keeps dishing out tips on staying healthy and shouts at me if I so much as look like I might try to carry something. I am delighted that his interest in biology continues.
Everything else home education wise has carried on regardless. I have nodded off twice this week when we have been reading together but only for a minute or two – I can be forgiven for that I think.