It’s week 22 and I am certainly not experiencing the ‘bloom of pregnancy’.
I don’t know about you but I am fed up with reading about svelte-like beauties with perfect little round bumps who claim to be breezing through their pregnancies with ease. The advice dished out seems to revolve around doing lots and lots of exercise whilst eating not much other than fresh fruit, a glass of milk and a kale smoothie and then doing a bit more exercise – it makes me feel uncomfortable. Social media loves to bombard you with stories about models jet skiing whilst 9 months pregnant or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro with a birthing pool strapped neatly to their back or at least that’s the way it seems. I might be exaggerating slightly but there does seem to be a bit of a trend toward portraying pregnancy as something that shouldn’t interfere with your everyday life – a bit like the ‘just do it’ tampon adverts of the nineties. The thing is though, pregnancy does stop normal play for most women to some degree and that is exactly how it should be in my book.
In the same way as a miracle moisturiser won’t make me look as wrinkle free as the 18 year old model who advertises it on the television, no amount of mass media celebrity advice is going to suddenly make my pregnancy a breeze nor is it going to make me ‘glow’ with the fabled bloom of pregnancy. I’m not blooming, my skin is insanely spotty, my hips hurt, I can’t sleep properly, I’m tired, no amount of fibre keeps things regular and I am constantly, voraciously hungry but do you know what? I love it.
I love being hopelessly forgetful. I love being incapable of accuratly judging the space I can squeeze through. I love having to get the cashier at the local shop to get me a chair and a glass of water because I’m having a dizzy spell. I love that I have to hoist myself up out of bed like an old lady. I love that the smell of banana skin makes me want to heave. I love the back ache and the twinges. I love that there are some things that I simply can’t do at the moment and I love that I can enjoy the experience without having to follow a celebrity pregnancy plan.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t exercise or eat well – don’t get me wrong. I have a very balanced diet, I walk and I swim but too much leaves me huffing and puffing like a ninety year old. I do what I can and what I have been advised to do. My plan is to enjoy every second of this pregnancy, every second of other people carrying my shopping bags or lifting heavy objects for me. I don’t feel bad about that at all after all I am busy enough constructing a tiny human being to be lifting or carrying – let someone else do it I say. I refuse to carry on as normal and I refuse to feel bad for looking like a tired thirty-something mum-to-be who has two kids already and a pile of ironing to do. I love being me even if I can’t do a cartwheel at 22 weeks pregnant, spend five hours at the gym or give birth one minute and wear a glistening white skirt the next.
How I’m Feeling.
Slightly hormonal and occasionally ‘narky’ – see above.
Continue to be as wonderful as ever. My darling husband has started decorating the house although that doesn’t do his efforts justice. He is taking up floors, constructing a new room and all kinds of difficult things for which I am very grateful. He also carries my bags for me.
We are continuing as normal despite the disruption that decorating causes. The weather is improving so our daily walks incorporate picnic opportunities for us all too.