So, after I wrote my last post about how pregnancy had (maybe) turned me into a
crazy lady more self-assured version of old self, I discovered this blog:
The Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Married to a Pregnant Woman which was the result of this equally excellent blog on the same site:
I decided to jot down what I’ve experienced (and what I’ve escaped) amongst the common sucky (and less sucky) symptoms of pregnancy in the second trimester. In honour of the last days of the ‘best’ trimester.
The Cankles! Amusingly my first bout of cankles came on about 3 weeks ago. I posted a status on Facebook simply saying ‘The cankles have arrived’ which prompted mostly amused, slight sympathetic, happy-for-me responses. The funniest part was the people of my mother’s generation not knowing what cankles are – which of course I explained. My cankles have been coming and going – I was advised by the midwife to put a box under my desk and rest my feet on that seeing as I sit most of the day. And when I get home to spend more time on my lovely new recliner chair. I do try – but I usually have to fight the cat for it (Beau) and sometimes I realise I haven’t sat down or put my feet up all evening. I don’t mean to – there’s just stuff to do! My mother recommended I take myself into a quiet part of the office, lie on the floor and put my feet up on the wall to get the circulation going. Yeah… my office is as big as large apartment and the other rooms all have glass walls. I’m not sure I fancy my workmates walking in on rotund self trying to roll into or out of this position. Let alone face the question ‘what exactly are you doing?’ [you crazy pregnant woman].
Mind you my thread veins might force me into submission on that front. Yes thread veins have started appearing. I guess I should count my lucky stars they’re not (yet) varicose veins.
Speaking of unsightly marks, despite a panicked check of my torso (and surrounding) areas each morning as I frantically rub in lotion, I haven’t yet found any stretch marks… But I do have some on my legs from my teenage years… so I there’s still time I guess. Probably jinxed it now anyway.
Yes, pregnant women get bigger boobs. Yes my boobs immediately got bigger (and so sore and sensitive… thankfully the sore has gone with the horrid first trimester). But I’d like to just clarify for us smaller chested ladies that mine are still containable. It’s funny how it becomes ok to comment on a woman’s boobs if she’s pregnant though. Really I should like it to just be my very best friends and my mother. Anyone else… it’s just weird.
And yes huge nipples yes. How womanly. [insert eye roll]
Peeing… ahh yes, the infamous peeing of a pregnant gal. Well, unlike some ladies I haven’t seemed to be on the toilet all the live long day, which in itself is quite miraculous for someone I consider to be quite a frequent pee-er anyway. And whilst I do wake most night’s for a pee this was not unheard of before I was with child. The weirdest addition to my bladder activity is when Jellybean is laying right on top of it and I pee and feel like I need to go again. Or I get up out of my seat and need to go immediately because of the way she’s laying. But then get to the loo and it’s just a dribble. The absolute worse part is sneezing and letting a bit of wee out sometimes, or somebody really making you laugh and realising you have to get serious immediately for fear of weeing yourself.
Insomnia – yes. Insomnia is my friend as mentioned in my last blog. I have nights where I can sleep pretty well but I still feel asthough even on those days I wake far more frequently – usually just to roll over or stop drooling on my pillow. And I think that’s to do with learning to sleep with a different body, or maybe because subconciously Jellybean’s moving around stirs me. They (the mysterious ‘they’) say it’s all practicefor when baby is born and having sleepless nights and being attuned to her needs. Frankly, I’d quite like to bank up my sleep now. Sigh.
For ages I’d read about how you might start feeling like your back is always sore by a certain point in pregnancy. For ages it didn’t happen. Now it’s just standard – sometimes it’s my lower back right into my tailbone. Other times my shoulders are absolutely killing me. I WILL be treating myself to at least one pregnancy massage in my 3rd trimester. On Saturday, without thinking about it or deliberately setting out to do so, I stood up ALL day (more on that in my next blog about Nesting). By the time Mr OC got back from his jobs he had on that day and suggested we had down to the beachfront for some Asian (I’m mad on dumplings at the moment) I could barely walk or lower myself into a seat. The poor guy had to walk SO slowly with me. But I was insistent to walk the usual 10 minute stroll. Old habits die hard.
An expanding girth – cue so many people making HILARIOUS fat jokes and also the inability to see my bikini line. Sorry hubby, I don’t know what it looks like down there between waxes but there is very little I can do about it. I’m also just about getting to the point where reaching for stuff I drop is too much hassle – and if I do it in public I’m afraid of being stared at (in case I reach the floor and cannot get back up). I dropped a $20 note on the way to the bus stop the other day and then dropped my Opal card about 10 seconds later. I was desperately trying to pick it up with speed and agility so as not to cause people to a) walk into my up turned arse and b) not be one of those people I tsk at when I’m in a hurry. I did this kind of sideways squat thing and tutted at myself instead. It was neither comfortable nor very efficient.
Generally feeling behemoth. Nothing more to add here.
One thing I’ve found mentioned a lot in articles and blogs in the uninvited touching of pregnant bellies. I have to say, no one has really done this to me. Thankfully.
Ahh, food glorious food. Next week I have my glucose tolerance test and I may get told to lay off the sugar. We’ll see. Maybe it just feels I’ve eaten a lot of sugar because I used to be pretty good before. But what the pregnant lady wants, the pregnant lady currently eats. Some days I just want to eat everything in sight and it actually gets a little embarrassing when I appear to be eating more than my husband. (I’m actually not if you compare portion sizes but please bear in mind – small white chick, broadly built Maori guy who does physical work… i.e. does not sit on his arse all day like his piggy wife).
Speaking of baby dadda…
Lastly let us pay respect to my hubby. Fortunately, I do think I’ve not been the crying wreck I thought pregnancy might turn me into. After all I am quite a ‘crier’ and I have a tendency to the weepy when I’m tired (just ask my mother). But mostly my crazy emotions have veered less to that and more to a “What the heck did you just say to me!?!” = overreaction to anything that comes out of his mouth, poor bugger.