I began with a full glass. At 5 minutes, I paused.
Then it really wasn’t long before I was done. I think I should have bought a 2 litre bottle yesterday. Particularly considering I was swigging straight from the bottle by the time I reached the road. My Grandpop would have been appalled.
No. Really. Milk please. Now.
(says she who’s just had a large glass of milk and two mini Babybel).
Thing1 has a thing for milk. Thing1 LURVES the milk. To the point that between Friday night (when the food delivery arrived) and Monday evening, I consumed six pints of the stuff. I’ve had about three more since then. I feel that this is slightly obscene. I have gone from trying to eat a vegan-ish diet to wanting all the milk and most of the meat as well.
I shall be waving my calcium tablets at the midwife this afternoon, as, really, this is faintly ridiculous, since I’ve also had two macaroni cheeses, 10 mini Babybel and two large milkshakes since Friday night. Along with various milky decaf coffees. Given the option, I would have had macaroni cheese for lunch today. Apart from the fact that I had it for supper last night, and there was leftover frittata to finish off.
In other news, I appear to be attempting to nest (or, at least, trying to tidy out my study), and knit all the things (photos will follow). I managed to wind three skeins of yarn yesterday. Two for a gorgeously soft alpaca cardigan. One for the Ysolda Yarn Club shawl (yes. I signed up for a yarn club after several years of hiatus from the Blue Moon Rockin’ Socks Club. Which, incidentally, is a great yarn club. I LOVED it when I was a member. But it took me too long to knit everything up). Both items are grey. To match the sky out there.
And there’s the long weekend still. It’s been wonderful. I’ve been to the hospital Scouts and Guides, I’ve seen so many friends and had lunch with my SMiL (who is very excited about Thing1), and dinner with G. I’ve slept in until 9 or 10 am, and I’ve nearly finished the scarf in progress; glorious blue silk yarn.
My CBT referral has finally come through: just as I’m starting to feel a bit more normal (but then again, it could all go a bit pearshaped in the next 4 months, so it is Good to have it). And this is after being fast tracked through the system thanks to Thing1. The perinatal referral I requested hasn’t yielded anything after six weeks…. we are a nation falling to bits.
I have the most wonderful gadget to hold the seatbelt below the bump (it is a low bump. A lovely bump, but low!). This is going to make the trip up to Scarborough for my BiL’s wedding a lot easier. I tested it today. Once I’d found the the popper, and got it adjusted properly, it was super comfy. I have also, after some trial and error, found maternity jeans which fit. Happiness is a waistband which doesn’t dig in. And a bra which fits. I am now a 36C. I was a 30C/32B. This is bound to change again. Kudos to the ladies at Seraphine who didn’t sell me what I didn’t need, and to the ones in John Lewis who found what I did. I still can’t wait for them to go down again: knowing that they’re bound to go up more first. However, I have Jo’s old maternity bras to grow into first.
Other things I am enjoying are foster kitten accounts on Instagram, seeing other people’s running pictures (I will get back to it!), and cutting back on Guiding. Peace.
Actually: sleep in one chunk during the night would be nice. Sleep from 11pm to 6am. In one feel swoop. Please send one chunk of sleep. The same amount of sleep as I seem to get in 24 hours. Just in one go? It would be vastly more convenient. It really would!
For, it matters not when I go to sleep, around 4 hours later, I will be awake. I may be anxious. I may not. I may need the loo (I usually do), I may not. I may be zen. I may not. I may be hungry, but usually not. I may fall asleep again easily, but, most often, I do not. And when that four hours later is about 2 hours before various alarms go off so that N can get up for work, and I have been awake for 2 hours, and know that I need to get up soon after (doing a lot of wfh), it’s a bit much. And I will need a nap about 2 hours after that. Once napped, all is well with the world, and the rest of the day can go on as normal. Some mornings, N is up just after I’ve woken up, anyhow, to do a run (marathon training. Am I envious? Heck yes. He has just hit scraggy – and can remove his jeans without undoing them. I am firmly in maternity jeans, having finally lost the battle with button bands and bump bands half way through last week. All this changing of shape is disconcerting both of us. Although it does mean that he’ll be positively comfortable in his suit for his brother’s wedding in 3 weeks’ time. It is somewhat slim fitting).
I question how I’ll manage until Thing1 has established some sort of sleep pattern, and I’ve worked out my sleep pattern round it, if this sort of mad waking up malarkey is going to continue. I can only assume: I’ll manage somehow, as most people seem to. Plus no-one’s going to get too upset if I don’t actually get out of pyjamas while this is going on. It’s something to ponder in the wee small hours of the morning. Otherwise I’m reading Mapp and Lucia and enjoying Thing1 hiccuping. It likes to hiccup at dawn.
I think Thing1 has got hiccups. It feels like something’s blowing mud bubbles in there…bloop. Bloop. Blup. Bloop.
Add in that I’ve managed to get in touch with my cousin for the first time in about 16 years AND we are hoping to meet up.
I rather like 39 so far.
Half-way through…we’re over half way there (the 20 week scan was ‘normal’. Which didn’t stop me fretting over various numbers. As one does). Only another 26 weeks of blood thinners. Only another 26 weeks of bruises. The worst two things of the whole pregnancy have been the injections/bruises from the blood thinners (shifted to thighs from tummy) and the nosebleeds. The challenge to my digestion comes close: I am obsessed with getting enough fibre. It’s just so uncomfortable when I don’t.
Those latter? They come out of nowhere. They last anything between 2 minutes and 40 minutes (the latter was a bit challenging, and I was beginning to wonder if I needed to go to hospital, and who could take me, because I couldn’t drive and couldn’t see a taxi being terribly keen to contain me and my uncontained bodily fluids). And you can’t do anything other than sit and hold onto a tissue and pray it stops for the duration. Really, really frustrating. And then there’s several hours of being too scared to blow a rather blocked nose, just in case it starts up again. I can’t be any fun to sleep near at the moment. The snorting and snuffling must be utterly absurd.
Much more fun is the odd tickle from inside (anterior placenta. I don’t feel much going on here), and I *think* Thing1 had hiccups on Saturday morning. Or I had an oddly located twitch. I’m not entirely sure which – but I was quite amused with my hand on my belly for a bit. It’s definitely a bump. It’s definitely a low slung bump. And it definitely grows during the day, which is every so slightly weird in a cool sort of way. You’d think by now it would stop taking me by surprise. No chance. I suspect such a drastic change in shame in such a short space of time is going to be surprising.
My attention span is that of a gnat. That’s what I was going to write at the beginning of this. Add in appalling nights’ of not-sleep, and the abstention from caffeine, and it’s quite impressive that I’m managing anything much. There’s quite a lot of rest, but not always as much sleep as anyone would like. And many things take about three times as long to achieve as they used to. On a good day.
But. Yanno. Izza bump. Wot tickles from the inside. *GRINS*