Writing this during my second week of maternity leave, almost nine months pregnant and with a definite feeling of I’ve nearly made it.
I’m not sure if it’s the fact I have finally recovered from a brutal chest infection that started in the second week of January, or that finishing work has freed up some mental capacity, or that pregnancy hormones have finally decided to give me a break, but I have been more productive in the first week and half of maternity leave than I have been in the last nine months. I no longer need to lie to my midwife when she asks if I have everything sorted for the birth / have packed my hospital bag, baby’s clothes are hung up, I have washed approx. a million towels, filled the freezer with Cook meals, made a banana bread also to freeze, organised Alfie’s new bedroom and I’m not sure the house has ever been this tidy.
Everyone tells you to put your feet up when you start maternity, but I seem to be finally having that second trimester surge of energy people talk about. It’s four months too late but still, it’s giving me a reminder of what it may feel like to no longer be pregnant and I am here for it.
(Wary that some people will find any kind of complaining about pregnancy triggering so if that’s you, please stop reading now. I know I am very lucky to be in this position but I’m also going to be honest below about how I haven’t particularly loved the last few months.)
A lot of people told me it would be the case, but it really is true how your second pregnancy can kind of drift on by without the attention your first had. I have barely taken any bump shots, had to really think about it when someone has asked me how far along I am and have left any prep until the last minute (see above). When I met with my midwife to make a birth plan the first time round, I had a whole list of preferences written down. This time when she asked me what I wanted, I was like ‘errrrr, stay home, push baby out, eat pizza?’. I’ve had a new job and a toddler, there is no time to overthink.
Having said that, I have never not been aware that I’ve been pregnant because it has been a royal pain in my arse. At first, I thought the nausea was better because it wasn’t 24/7 like my first pregnancy, but then it just went on and on and fucking on. I was still gagging on eating an apple or throwing up at the smell of the food bin well into my second trimester. Then there was the iron deficiency and the trial and error of finding a supplement that didn’t make me feel even more nauseous. Then there was the crippling fatigue that had me barely able to function which continued well past 6 months. Then there was the fact that baby stayed solidly in the transverse position until I was nearly full term, prompting lots of 3am worry sessions about early hospital admissions, cord prolapses and c-sections. Then there was the pelvic girdle pain which some days had me struggling to walk up the stairs. Then the sciatic going down one side of my bum (quite literally a pain in the arse). And then, just as I thought I might be feeling a bit more normal, I caught a chest infection that I could not shake off. I know some women have it a lot worse and the most important thing is that I have had a normal pregnancy and healthy baby but good lord, I am over it. When people tell me to ‘enjoy every minute’, I have had to take some serious deep breaths and resist the urge to ask if they would enjoy the fact that their pelvic floor is under considerable strain, but it physically hurts your bones to walk the ten steps to the toilet.
And what is it about pregnancy/parenting that makes people so rude? Did I ask for your opinion? No. Are you going to tell me that you knew I was pregnant over Teams because I am supposedly carrying baby weight around my face? Apparently so. (True story – from a colleague I barely know.) The comments I have had from virtual strangers when I’ve told them I am having a second boy have never not surprised me with their levels of rudeness:
“Ah well never mind.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Well, that’s just as good”
“You can try for a girl next time.”
“Were you disappointed?”
“You must have wanted a girl.”
“You’ll try for a third so you can have a girl.” “I won’t, I don’t want more than two.” “Oh you will.” – that last one being from the nurse who was giving me my flu jab.
Not that it is anyone’s business, but I very much wanted a second boy, and I honestly think there is nothing ruder than suggesting I am in anyway disappointed by my unborn child. Would quite like some kind of prize for having not told any of these people to feck off.
People don’t want you to complain about pregnancy. Even writing the above has made me feel funny, like I should just delete it all and write something about how lucky I am. But this narrative that women should put up and shut up, grow a whole human and a new organ, move their pre-existence organs, expand their ribs, increase their blood flow by 50%, push a human head out of their vagina and act like it’s not happening, not affecting their physical and mental wellbeing is, quite frankly, bullshit. I can’t do it. I can’t pretend it hasn’t got to me at times. I can’t pretend I haven’t felt like a shit mother and partner. Can’t pretend I haven’t felt guilty at how much slack my husband has had to pick up to keep everything ticking along. Can’t pretend I haven’t felt unwell for nine months or that my performance at work hasn’t suffered.
But we are on the home stretch now, and this finally surge of feeling vaguely like myself again is much appreciated. I’ve gone from being desperate to no longer be pregnant to finally able to feel excited to meet my little man. Also, not going to lie, maternity leave without a baby is great. I watched a film in the afternoon the other day. A whole film in the middle of the day, without any interruptions. WHAT A TREAT.
See you on the other side lads.
Twenty Things I’ve Loved Lately
Squeezing in a new bookshelf into our living room. I really am going to have to start adopting a one-in-one-out policy in my personal library but squeezing in a little bit more space postpones that for a short while. Plus, bookshelves make me feel cosy and happy.
This cute little mushroom lamp that I bought for said new bookshelf.
This puttanesca-inspired tuna pasta bake recipe which we’ve made twice now and lasts us two days.
My dad and step-mum popping in for 24 hours.
Catching up with my friend Beth over a delicious flatbread.
The latest series of Unforgotten which we binged over a week.
33 years on the clock. Think I might be an actual grown up now but remains up for debate. Nice to receive birthday flowers, cookies and other goodies from loved ones on a grey Thursday in February.
My favourite ever birthday cake – Nigella’s Guinness cake never disappoints.
The most delicious birthday lunch at MJP @ The Shepherds, such a treat.
£3 bunches of tulips. Plus crocuses and daffodils appearing and blossom buds in the trees. I love how the end of February always gives off little signs that Spring is coming.
We celebrate our wedding anniversary these days, but Valentine’s Day marked 10 years since Gary and I got together. Can’t believe we’ve done a whole decade of life together already.
A lovely meal at Dishoom in Cambridge with my family. I don’t think I have ever had anything bad in a Dishoom, the food is always so good.
Book vouchers for my birthday. Trying to ignore the hole they are burning in my pocket so I can treat myself during mat leave.
A handful of days where the sun shone, and the temperature hit double digits. The difference it made to my mood and how much easier I found parenting was huge. Can’t wait for proper Spring.
Going to the cinema on a weekday afternoon – seriously, not working is great – to see Bridget Jones. Was not expecting to cry four times but there you have it.
Final scan for baby boy and getting to see his little face in 4D and his actual hair on the ultrasound.
Warmer weather meaning Alfie is happy to go to the park again (he refuses point blank when it is cold). Never thought I’d miss the playground but entertainment options for a toddler during the winter is already severely limited, let alone when he refuses to engage with slides and swings.
These small-batch banana chocolate muffins. Great for using up the lone brown banana hanging around on the side.
A tuberose candle from Habitat. Smells divine.
Alfie telling me about his day when we’re tucked up in bed together, just before he falls asleep. My heart cannot cope with the cuteness.
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