I may have felt some movement yesterday, or I may have needed to fart. Frankly at this stage it’s 50/50 that it could have been either one, okay maybe I’m exaggerating, or downright lying, baby movement is a possibility, breaking wind is an inevitability.
I am starting to feel a little more human though. There’s still some nausea but it’s falling to acceptable levels (or maybe by comparison with how it was last week in the grip of the norovirus anything is an improvement). I am feeling like I can start tackling that whole healthy eating thing though. I feel under a lot of (imagined or self-generated) pressure to stop stuffing myself to the gills with crap and reverse the weight gaining trend. I accept that a certain amount of weight gain is not only acceptable but highly desirable in pregnancy, but I’ve exceeded that. I haven’t actually weighed myself in a few weeks (since the booking appointment) but I can almost feel my ass and thighs spreading as my stomach creeps outwards.
Yesterday was something of a last hooray crap-eating wise, today has at least started better. I had a bagel with a small amount of reduced fat cream cheese and some smoked salmon for breakfast, a banana for a snack, and some soup and crackers for lunch. Dinner is going to be a very healthy stir fry with some lean chicken. It’s the kind of diet I thrived on in Weight Watchers (just to clarify I am on maintenance points) so hopefully I can kiss goodbye the real excess poundage and the bloating and delightful constipation.
I got the appointment in the post today for my 12 week scan. It’s on the 30th of December (so I’ll be a day shy of 13 weeks). Where I live all antenatal care is consultant led. They’ve given me a different consultant to the one I had the last two times and I’m a bit nervous about that as my old consultant was very supportive of home birth. I don’t want to come up against someone who could be hostile, largely because I’m not sure I have the energy to have the home birth argument for the 3rd time, but also while the nausea is fading the raging irrationality and mood swings have not. I was at a Christmas concert last night and during the interval they were handing out mulled wine, shortbread biscuits and mince pies. I got into the queue to get a mince pie for my eldest daughter, while all I wanted was a shortbread biscuit. Finally I got to the head of the queue some a guy cut in front of me and took the last biscuit. I actually had to stop myself from swearing at him “You lousy son of a motherless fuck! CHOKE ON IT!!!!!!!! CHOKE ON IT!!!!!!!”
Where was I?
Oh yes, so in just under 2 weeks we’ll get to see Poppler again. Won’t that be nice?
And finally – here is the promised 11 week bump picture. In future I shall take all pictures myself, my husband is RUBBISH at it, including the fact that he didn’t think to tell me that my dress was sitting weird at the back. I begged him to take lots of photos during Squish’s birth. I think I got one that was unusable.
See? HUGE! and given that the baby is roughly the size of a lime (utterly knackered stomach muscles aside) this has got to owe a lot to my penchant for cheese and onion flavour crisps.