Tag: second trimester

19 weeks pregnant.

And another week bites the dust!

I spent this week feeling stressed for non pregnancy related reasons, which was quite annoying. I felt really emotionally and physically drained, when I should have been feeling amazing. But I hope that next week will be a fresh start.

I am still getting used to calling my bump a ‘her’ or ‘she’. It sounds so foreign to me. I spent a long time calling the baby, ‘it’ haha. Probably shouldn’t do that anymore, considering there’s a creepy AF remake of the Stephen King movie out right now! Even saying the word ‘girl’ feels awkward. I guess that’s OK – I have a while to get my head around it! I am very excited but I think I am in a bit of shock. I never realised how used to the idea of having another boy I was. I just thought it would be an inevitability, quite honestly! I think maybe once my mum is around more and we can start planning fun stuff together, like decorating the nursery or going shopping for clothes together, I will start to feel more able to embrace the idea. I think maybe the stress I felt this week sadly overshadowed a time when I should have been adjusting to, and really celebrating, the good news a lot more.

This week, I also bought myself new bras. Up a cup size, y’all. Probably up two, but I got a good deal on bras from Big W so we’ll just go with that for now. Maybe I’m in denial haha. I think my next over the shoulder boulder holder purchases will probably be proper nursing bras, so I am holding off a little.

I had a doctor’s appointment this week. I was looking forward to it. Partly because I had some issues I wanted to ask about and address, and partly because it’s always a way to connect in some way to my pregnancy – I am always likely to have a scan or hear the heartbeat. It was good/important to have Mr Unprepared visit the clinic for the first time and meet the doctor. He’d taken a lot of time off work to get me through my fertility treatments and appointments and IVF, so making it to every appointment once I fell pregnant became a lot harder (although he hasn’t missed the important ultrasounds). I felt like he needed to connect with the process more and this was helpful, I think.

I had been worried about my itchiness (as mentioned in previous updates). I was finally able to show the doctor what my rash spots looked like. The bad news is that he agreed it could possibly be a re-emergence of the PUPPP rash that I’d suffered from during my first pregnancy, but the good news was that he was really knowledgeable, compassionate and pro-active about it. During my first pregnancy, I’d waited until it was really bad before telling anyone (it was embarrassing and it was my first pregnancy so I didn’t know what was normal), and then my previous doctor had been on leave (haha of course) and I’d had weeks of seeing random GPs who had no experience with the condition, and then I’d had to make my way up to the city for a dermatologist’s appointment, before finally getting help. By then everything had set in quite awfully and the mental and emotional damage had probably been done too.

This time was different. I was quick to mention my itchiness. The doctor was also quick to prescribe me some medicated cream and anti-histamines – all safe to take during pregnancy (please do not try these things without getting medical advice of your own). He explained that I am probably allergic in some way to my own pregnancy hormones/baby’s DNA. So that’s fun!

I immediately filled out the scripts and already felt better, mentally. It’s always nice to feel like you have support and a plan. So far the drugs seem to be working OK (not perfectly but OK). Some areas seem to have become 100% better and others are still a bit of a problem but haven’t got any worse. I will re-visit the clinic at about 24 weeks, just to check in and get any extra help if I need it. I am just glad that I am catching this condition earlier than last time. Maybe I can stop it from ever getting as bad as it was.

I cannot stress enough just how important it is to mention anything and everything when you see your care providers. If you’re uncomfortable in your skin or have an embarrassing issue, just listen to your gut and tell someone. The earlier you get help, the better it is for your mental health. Truly.

I’ve always thought I was huge (bump wise), although not as big as I thought I was when carrying the Little Mister, but I was surprised when the midwife measured my belly, to find out that its size was bang on between 19 and 20 weeks at the time of my appointment. While this can vary a lot in every woman and should probably largely be taken with a pinch of salt, I still felt a little relieved that maybe I wasn’t as massive as I originally thought (especially with my snacking being a bit out of control haha)! My mum reminded me that I was actually quite small (normal and healthy but small) when I was born – according to my adoption records and early photos. I felt relieved at the thought that maybe having a girl might mean she could take after me (Mr Unprepared was quite humongously big when he was born and while the Little Mister thankfully never reached that size it was close enough for my comfort levels I can tell you).

I was given instructions for further appointments and tests (I am not looking forward to finding out if I have gestational diabetes or not) and I was on my way. It felt good to fill out my calendar with exact dates for once (after the relative unpredictability of infertility).

I don’t know how to end this post, so here’s a picture of my bump at 19 weeks…

Until the next update, see ya later! x

My Pregnant Kitchen.

So I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there’s this hilarious youtube series called My Drunk Kitchen. It’s a simple principle really. A really funny chick gets absolutely smashed on booze, then cooks something – all on video! Now, I don’t normally condone binge drinking or the use of kitchen appliances (that are sharp or hot) while intoxicated, but seriously. That sh*t makes me laugh out loud. Like total LOL.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XT46FV64dr8]

My favourite My Drunk Kitchen vid.

Which gets me thinking – what if you were a fly on the wall in my kitchen? Maybe I should start a series called My Pregnant Kitchen.

Today as I buzzed around trying to make about three things at once, I realised just how ridiculous I am.

Imagine making cupcakes, fresh bread rolls (for the first time ever) and a savoury mince all at once.

Timers going off everywhere. Flour on everything. Dishes stacked upon dishes. A crazy woman (that’s me) in a caftan while the heater is on (hey – it’s PUPPP rash friendly clothing) in the middle of winter.

At some point in the middle of all of it, I was tweeting. I was doing internet banking. I was watching Oprah (from another room – that takes skill). I was getting ingredients ALL over my bump (which sticks out a bit now that I’m in the 23rd week), because I realised I couldn’t get up as close to the kitchen bench as I usually would. Turns out there’s this extra spillage space created now. Every now and then I would stop, stare at the offending food particles, dust them off or sneak a taste because hey, no-one was looking.

I was kneading dough like a madwoman. I was that into it that it took me half the time the recipe specified to make it “smooth and elastic”. I was chopping vegetables frantically while browning minced beef on the stove. I was frosting cupcakes while baking bread rolls. I was a machine. I was washing dirty dishes so I could use them straight away again for something else. I was mentally planning out the week’s budget. I was mumbling to myself (but very quietly because the Husband Man was sleeping off a night shift) in a demented manner.

How the hell do I know if the milk is too warm or not warm enough? And when the hell is the yeast/milk concoction considered frothy? Is that frothy? It kind of bubbles when I tip it. This is so frickin’ weird. Is this going to turn out? I’m expecting an epic fail on the bread roll situation.

I was fielding emails and social invitations. I was reading recipes and then forgetting what they said and reading them again less than a minute later to remind myself (baby brain). At some point I wandered off and started folding towels from the pile of clean washing in the spare room.

While finely chopping onions I started to cry. And then I couldn’t figure out if it was really the onions or my crazy hormones. I really am elegant as f*ck.

You would have seen me remove the flour from the pantry. Use it in a recipe. Put it back in the pantry. Realise I needed it again for something else. Take it out of the pantry. Put it back in the pantry. Find out I wasn’t done with it. Pull it back out and use it. Put it back in the pantry. All in the space of about five minutes. I am a space case.

I swear I was even thinking about the meaning of life during this whole time. That happens sometimes. It’s called multi tasking, bitches.

And no, after all that I can’t actually tell you the meaning of life. I was too busy hoping my bread rolls would turn out OK and that my cupcakes weren’t going to end up like little rocks to pay attention to silly things like the meaning of life. Who knows? Maybe I even figured it out at some point, but forgot it again. Now we’ll never know what it is. I wonder how much wisdom is lost this way? I might be a spiritual guru and not even know it.

You know those pictures of ladies who look so serene, wearing their 50s pin up style immaculate hair and pristine dresses with the full skirts? The ones you see gently stirring a cupcake batter, while calmly keeping an eye on the stove?

Yeah, I’m nothing like that.

I’m more like a kitchen tornado. The anti Master Chef if you will.

I managed to serve up a lovely feed of fresh, hot rolls with savoury mince to Husband Features. His dessert was a set of cupcakes with I <3 U written on them (yeah how adorably corny and spew worthy). The dishes looked superb (while the kitchen did not), but I collapsed on the couch looking like I’d been dragged through a nightclub at 3am backwards. By a really big bouncer.

It’s hard work being a housewife. I think I’m doing it wrong. Maybe I’m too sober?

Either way, I’m kind of glad my nesting fever has come back 🙂

What’s your kitchen style?

Sh*t Happens.

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Wow, things can really change in a week! Not long after I posted about becoming a sudden domestic goddess in the making, my nesting habits got a bit interrupted…

Sometimes there are things in life that you just can’t control. Things that you are Awesomely Unprepared for, despite your best intentions.

I am learning that I may be a little bit more of a control freak than I really like to admit. Me? A control freak? You must be talking about someone else

I hold myself to high standards, even though I know I shouldn’t. I compare myself to others, even though I know I shouldn’t. I blame myself for things that aren’t my fault when I know I shouldn’t. I expect that everything I do will turn out how I’ve predicted when really nothing ever goes perfectly to plan. It’s so much fun such a drag.

I guess I’m just human.

Now if there’s anything in life you can’t control, it’s pregnancy. Symptoms keep popping up and they have very little to do with you. Sure, you can stop doing hard drugs or chugging alcohol. You can try to stay fit and healthy and adjust your nutritional intake so it benefits the baby the best. But you aren’t going to be perfect at it (well I hope you stop taking hard drugs and drinking whiskey at the very least) and there are so many other things going on in your body that you really have no say in/control over! There’s something strangely liberating and exciting about that, but it can also be a little unsettling for a control freak.

We can’t stop stretch marks if we’re destined to have them. We can’t help if some pregnancy related medical condition pops up out of nowhere and needs dealing with. We can’t control the way our bump sits or how big it will get. We can’t help it if our skin doesn’t look like it’s glowing (even if everyone else’s seems to be) or if morning sickness decides to strike. We can only do the best we can to minimise any risks and leave the rest up to nature.

This “Aha” moment (thanks, Oprah – miss you already) came to me when I started breaking out in rashes all over my body lately. Itchy, unsightly and unbearably uncomfortable. I have never had a history of allergies, eczema or any other skin condition in my life. I have been using very natural (and pregnancy safe) products on my skin (and around the house) since I got pregnant and I have not changed my diet (other than a few stray cupcakes finding their way into my stomach – hey how did they get in there??) or anything else about my lifestyle. Yet, here I’ve been with these damn rashes and sleepless, itchy nights. At times I’ve felt like a leper. I keep hearing about/noticing how my pregnant friends (past and present) had/have perfect skin and look so great. I keep seeing those paparazzi pics of damn celebrities with their damn yoga mats looking radiant while up the duff. In my weak moments (aplenty) I’ve felt like a spotty, unattractive failure (even though my amazing husband – who values his life – keeps reminding me that he still finds me so beautiful).

I didn’t want to tell anyone about what I was feeling so I hid it inside for a little while. When people asked how I was feeling, I would say, “Oh awesome – so great – no sickness – tons of energy”. Sure, that answer was kind of true, but on the inside I’ve feeling down about my skin and worried about it. Stupid but true story.

It got to a point where it got too intense. I was sobbing in a cold shower (despite it being the coldest winter ever) in the middle of the night and scratching when I knew I shouldn’t. I told my family and I made the first doctor’s appointment of many. Finally, my discomfort overruled my shame/embarrassment.

I’ve got the ball rolling on some attempts at controlling my skin problems and while I haven’t got a solution (or even a way to keep things manageable) yet, I should have done this ages ago. I also realise I am not afraid to speak up about it anymore. So what if I have this ugly rash? I have a healthy baby boy inside me and everyone is different. It’s not my fault. I can’t control everything. It’s not even contagious. Therefore there is nothing I could have done differently other than not get pregnant (which I wouldn’t trade for the world). I AM NOT TO BLAME. I AM NOT A BAD PREGNANT PERSON. OK, so I won’t be having any glamour belly shots for the family album. I probably will cover up reaaallly well if I give AquaBump Aerobics a try (so as not to scare anyone). I will probably take a while to get rid of the marks the itching has given me. So what? I have other things to be grateful for (family, friends and the most supportive husband). And on a shallow note, I have a glowing complexion (my face has thankfully been spared) and I haven’t sprouted 15 chins yet. From the outside I look perfectly pregnant – which is kind of why I wanted to speak up in this blog post (and be all vulnerable and sh*t). I want other people out there to realise we never know what’s going on under the surface. Things aren’t always what they seem. Don’t beat yourself up or feel inferior over a mere perception of other people’s supposed perfection (that kind of rhymes – I should write lyrics for Panic! At The Disco or something).

I’ve got to step up and become less about my insecurities (and worrying about the things I can’t control) and more about the safety and happiness of my baby. I’ve got to get mentally strong even though this skin condition (whatever the hell it is) has a way of making me into the craziest lady. And I mean CRAYYY-ZEEEEE.

When’s the last time you had to be mentally strong? How did you find a way to cope? Seriously, I’m going to be taking notes…

Edited Update: I have been diagnosed with PUPPP or Polymorphic Eruption of Pregnancy (feel free to google it). I am now using an ointment which seems to give some relief, although it won’t actually cure it. Thanks for your comments and support x

I used to think “nesting” was a myth.

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Seriously. I thought nesting was just some excuse for already crazy clean freaks/domestic goddesses to get their OCD on during pregnancy. I thought there was little to no chance that I would ever succumb to such a thing. We’re talking about a lady who thinks using a “just add water” muffin mix counts as baking (and is oddly proud of this). Someone who thinks scrapbooking and crafts are lame-o. That doing dishes is optional (or only a requirement if something’s gonna stink or there aren’t any clean forks left or visitors are coming – even then, meh). Same goes for ironing. Let’s face it, I am not by any stretch of the imagination any kind of 50s housewife. In fact, until recently I wouldn’t have even considered myself a housewife at all. I probably was more the stereotype of a slobby bloke in disguise, much to the bemusement of my domestically capable husband.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fleeting episodes of Spring Cleaning Madness or house proud moments. And I won’t let things get Hoarders/How Clean is Your House cray cray. But I’ve never really enjoyed doing housework or catering for people. Those things are just activities to keep you from catching diseases or losing all your friends.

Right? Right.

So when I entered the second trimester of pregnancy (the first one was terribly tiring and I had no appetite), boy did I start making up for lost time! I’ve been baking at least twice a week. Trying new recipes, making things *gasp* from scratch. Cooking for other people and loving it. I even have a baking ‘kit’ with all the basic ingredients I could ever need – just in case I get the urge to create something delicious! I’ve been ironing clothes I might not even wear that day! I even undertook a crafts project for my dad’s birthday present – I was so obsessed with putting together a scrapbook style photo album of Mum and Dad’s recent holiday to Bali that I spent roughly 8 hours on it one evening (in between baking cupcakes and getting the husband to and from a work function of course). I have paint colour samples adorning the nursery wall and fabric for curtains all ready to go (and by ‘go’ I mean to my mum’s house where she will inevitably end up doing all the hard sewing stuff because no matter how much I might be nesting – I will never LOVE/LIKE/BE GOOD AT sewing). I’ve even bought a couple of cute jumpsuits for the baby and I’m actually getting super clucky. What is going on?!

AND? The cupcakes I made the other day were amazingly pretty, tasty and not hard as rocks or sad looking or anything. Just so you know.

I’ve mastered home made sausage rolls, choc chip cookies, choc chip and banana muffins, banana and sultana bread, self saucing chocolate pudding and cupcakes galore. Probably not a big deal to the average super-human home chef, but a massive deal for a pleb like me!

Last week I even enjoyed shopping for a new fridge and I am excited about researching good washing machines. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I’ve started to watch (and get sucked into) Masterchef for the first time. Ever. I know.

I always hoped I would turn out like this one day (despite turning my nose up at this kind of lifestyle out of fear of becoming a mini van driving soccer mum). I mean, it’s kind of nice Getting Stuff Done. My whole attitude has changed. It kind of makes life easier! I’m sure it will all go to sh*t when the baby arrives but I like feeling Capable and Motivated and Creative when it comes to my home life. It isn’t just the place I crash in after spending most of my life out and about,  and food isn’t just something I have to convince myself to make. It’s something I like to create.

I’m still no super Domestic Goddess (you don’t want to see the state of my bathroom on a bad day), but I’m definitely a clucky little bird fluffing about in her nest 🙂

Are you a Domestic Goddess/God or a Hot Household Mess? 😉

FAQ: Halfway, already?!

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I get asked these questions a lot lately – here are my answers 🙂

So how pregnant are you? I can’t keep track!

Today I am 19 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I enter a new week of pregnancy every Friday. I like that. Fridays are always awesome (who doesn’t love a Friday?)! Everything’s going by so quickly at the moment! I feel like I blink and another week has gone by!

How are you feeling?

I’m feeling pretty good! Apart from the occasional lack of sleep, I am quite well! I am fairly comfortable (although very aware of my growing bump) and I’m fairly energetic. I have to listen to my body if I get a bit tired, but I feel quite normal! The only thing that bugs me is I get hot spots on my body (in the logical places which would be TMI to discuss here) where I can feel a bit itchy and irritated. I definitely notice that my body temperature is a little elevated (to a healthy pregnancy level). I am glad to be pregnant over the winter!!

Have you had your 20 week scan yet?

Yep – yesterday! It went really well. The baby is growing at a healthy pace (measuring about a week ahead – uh oh) and everything looked great. It’s always wonderful hearing the heartbeat again too. In fact, that feeling after a good ultrasound is the most amazing thing in the world.

Do you know the sex of your baby?!

Yes.

Are you telling anyone the sex of the baby?! Boy or girl?!

We really can’t keep the gender of our baby a secret. It would kill our family (and friends) if they didn’t know! Besides, it might get a bit obvious when we start buying things for the nursery!

Meet our baby boy 🙂

He’s a bit shy, but this photo is so cute. Definitely my favourite. Of course we got five photos printed out and a DVD 🙂

Most people thought I’d be having a girl so this might be a shock! I had a gut feeling it was a boy. I don’t know how I knew, but I just did.

Look how big your bump is!!

OK, so more of a statement than a question…and perhaps I say it to myself mostly…but with the bub measuring a week ahead, it’s no surprise now that I know this information! I have had a big appetite lately (trying to be nutritious but baked goods have been an issue – let’s not lie), but I don’t appear to be gaining too much weight so far.

Yesterday I found out from my mother in law that the Guy I’m Married To (and Impregnated By) weighed 9 pounds, 10 ounces when he was born. This almost made me faint. I mean, he grew up all normal sized but FAR OUT! Is our son going to be the same?! I do not even want to think about that…

I’m only little!!!!!

Also, on a side note: Please don’t jokingly ask if it’s twins or keep telling me how huuuuge I am getting? It makes me feel a little self conscious.

Do you have any names in mind now that you know it’s a boy?

We’ve been poring over a massive book of names and we’re only up to names beginning with K!! We have a couple of boy’s names we’ve already put on a shortlist, but we’re not planning on telling anyone what they are until the birth. With so many people we know being pregnant (mostly with boys) at the moment, we want to eliminate the chances of duplicate names in our friendship groups/families and see what unfolds. I feel like this way those in our circle who are further along than us won’t feel bad for choosing a similar name to us and to put it bluntly, we’ve heard of people being inspired by others’ choices, taking the name for their own child (who is born first) and making it difficult to scramble for a whole new name at the last minute. We also want to meet the baby in person before we set a name in stone – what if he doesn’t look like the name we originally picked out?!

So, I’m sorry to the curious folk – we’re staying “mum” on that one. It’s nothing personal – just a precaution!

Have you gone nuts buying stuff for the baby?

Nope. Haha. My inlaws have generously bought us a cot for the baby – it’s beautiful! I hope to go pram shopping with my mum at some point too. Other than that, we have bought zilch! I’m excited now we know what we’re having – I feel like I can really have some fun now 🙂

I don’t think I’ll just buy everything blue in sight – just like if we had a girl I wouldn’t have gone overboard with the colour pink. Just a hint will do. There are some really creative boy’s clothes these days – can’t wait to dress up my little man!

We’re hoping to set up the nursery first – fun fun fun! I can’t wait to get creative.

Any other questions?? You can also ask anonymously through Tumblr or Formspring by clicking on the Ask Me Anything tab at the top right hand corner of this ol’ blog here 🙂

Holy crap – we forgot the baby! And other weird pregnancy nightmares.

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I have always been quite the off-the-wall nocturnal dreamer. I’ve always thought that my dreams really make for some awesome viewing. If my dreams were movies they would be artsy masterpieces woven with intricate meanings and kooky humour (or just an episode of Family Guy). I think Ellen Page would play the main character in all of them.

In the last couple of weeks, I have lost the ability to sleep deeply. This is partially due to my husband taking up the awesome new hobby that people like to call Snoring (don’t even get me started). It is also to do with me being a little uncomfortable some nights (belly squishing ahoy!) and I think there’s something else going on. Something that keeps me in an eternal limbo between being half awake and constantly dreaming. A Kez’s Subconscious Movie Marathon of sorts. I’m adjusting, but it’s a little odd. I thought this stuff wasn’t supposed to happen until later? I never got the memo about this.

ARE MY DAYS OF SLEEPING BLISSFULLY LIKE A LOG OVER?! Mums, don’t answer that.

One thing I was told to be prepared for is strange dreams. Pfft, I thought. I’ve got this in the bag. I already dream about weird stuff – I won’t even notice the difference. I own that sh*t.

And then the other night happened. I dreamed that we had the baby (it was blonde and looked suspiciously like the baby on the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special we had just watched before bed – yes Christmas special). In the dream I basically forgot we had a baby, went out for dinner and realised I didn’t know where the hell we’d left it and whether or not we should go and check on it. Of course I panicked a lot…pre-parental anxiety anyone?

When I woke up, Husband Features listened to me recount the dream, put a comforting arm around me and said, “Don’t worry – I know that when we have a baby you won’t forget it.”

That’s reassuring, that is!

After that I had a dream that we had moved a strange housemate in and that she would be living in our bedroom. I didn’t know if that was a good idea or not (didn’t seem great for privacy reasons) and wasn’t sure if I should offer her the TV remote.

My subconscious rocks.

Then I had a dream that made me panic. I was still pregnant in this dream, but I was returning to work after a long hiatus. I was going to have my old job back. Only when I got there I was handed a course outline (like you get given at the beginning of a new semester of university) and told about my assignments and study plan. Assignments!! I was devastated. DIDN’T MY EMPLOYERS KNOW I HAD DONE THREE HARD YEARS OF UNI AND GRADUATED ALREADY?! I WAS NOT GOING TO DO THIS SH*T ALL OVER AGAIN!!!

In the dream I was almost bawling with frustration. I can tell you now, I was stoked to wake up and realise that it was all a figment of my messed up subconscious! Phew!

A lot of my dreams seem to feature me dealing with looking after a “third” person or a vulnerable little life in some capacity. Like pregnancy book advice 101. I’m so textbook.

What have you been dreaming about lately (pregnant or not)?

FYI: I have no upper body strength and very little balance.

Pic: Am I doing it right??

Now that I am entering my 19th week of pregnancy, I’ve got some energy back and I have been missing my exercise! I ordered myself a pre-natal pilates DVD after realising that Zumba (at least the way I do it) and sweating it out like crazy on an exercise bike might not be the best idea anymore (at least the way I do it).

I put the DVD in the player (while my husband vacated the premises – can’t blame him) and let the corny musical introduction fill the lounge room/theatre room/front room/whatever the fashionable thing to call it these days is. It sounded like one of those old educational videos you get shown in school – no matter what the topic is. This filled me with trepidation.

I watched the basic stuff you need to know before starting the workout (the 5 principles as they trendily called it). Stuff like how to breathe properly (oops – I do it all wrong), how to keep your posture good and um…3 other things that I have already forgotten.

The American lady instructor was putting on this funny voice that was supposed to be soothing and gentle, but I do admit that I wanted to strangle her a few minutes in. Especially when she wasn’t explaining the breathing thing properly (it must be her fault – I was inhaling and exhaling just fine all day every day until she came along).

There were two pregnant ladies who were demonstrating the workout. They were trim, taut, terrific and a little too suspiciously good at “beginner” pre-natal pilates…this made me feel slightly inadequate. Which is what you want to feel when you’re huffing and puffing and rolling around on your yoga mat (which is still curly from when you got it out of the box it’s been sitting in for three years) like a scarily uncoordinated hippopotamous. And who wouldn’t be scared of a hippo that can’t control itself?

I soon realised that if I thought I had no upper body strength before, just wait until my puny little arms have to hold up me and a growing foetus! I also noticed way too much tension in my shoulders (probably from straining to see the television screen at an unhealthy angle to check if I was doing everything right – I wasn’t). The instructor (I can’t remember her name but she looked like a Carol) kept telling me (and those perky, flexible pregnant ladies) to “roll over and change sides” on the mat every two seconds. I wondered why I couldn’t just do everything on one side and then switch later? I felt like a beached whale!

At 26 minutes (out of 30) I admitted defeat – at least for my first attempt. I just sat there mesmerised by the bellies on the DVD. Very hypnotic. I wondered how far along they were (further than me by the looks of things – which just made me feel worse). I wondered how long they’d been doing pilates for (probably since they were foetuses themselves). I wondered if we had any choc chip cookies left. And then it was over.

It was all a little demoralising…but I jumped in awesomely unprepared as usual 🙂

In all fairness, while I struggled (it being my first time and all) I do believe that pilates and yoga are an awesome idea for exercise during pregnancy. I will persevere and I know that in time I will look like a (slightly almost) graceful hippo as opposed to an uncoordinated one. I’ll be more flexible and hopefully the breathing exercises will help. And I do admit that the exercise endorphins did sneak up on me – I was in the best mood for the rest of the day (which pleasantly surprised the hubby haha).

I think that my favourite pregnancy exercise activity will still be walking, but I will try to keep on top of the stretchy, breathe-y stuff too. Who knows – maybe if I get my confidence levels up, I might even attempt it in a class. In front of people (no promises).

Celebrity bump crushes.

Pic: Now that is maternity chic!

You know how you never notice a certain model or make of car on the road until you buy one? And then all of a sudden you see cars just like yours everywhere? Well, that’s kind of how I feel about pregnant bellies. All of a sudden I feel like I have this crazy radar when it comes to bumps within a million kajillion kilometre radius of me. I can see them. I can see all of them!

I feel like I should insert an evil laugh there, but it doesn’t quite seem appropriate…

And I’ve started believing that every single female celebrity is knocked up too. Not to mention that every single movie I see seems to have a pregnant person in it. I saw Fast and Furious 5 (at a beanbag cinema – needed a hand getting up afterwards) and there was this ridiculous pregnant character (forget her name but she’s the character who’s bonking Paul Walker – yep I remember him) who was jumping off buildings, avoiding bullets and driving cars like she stole them (well – she did). At one point, I’m pretty sure she was walking knee deep in contaminated water in a third world country…and she only threw up once in the movie. All in the first trimester. I think we all know what I thought of that as I watched, collapsed in a beanbag after struggling just to walk around the city of Melbourne all day…

I read that my brain capacity is reduced at this point in pregnancy. I’m a bit forgetful at times (well – more than usual), but I didn’t predict the happiness I would feel zoning out to The Circle when I’m feeling under the weather or my new need to buy New Idea magazines (just the issues with babies of celebrities or pregnant celebrities on the cover). I didn’t predict the dumb thoughts that would pop into my head, like:

“Oh WOW, my baby is going to be the same age as Pink’s baby. And the Beckhams’ baby. And Selma Blair’s baby. And January Jones’ baby. And Kate Hudson’s baby. And Natalie Portman’s baby. And Alyssa Milano’s baby…”

Yeah, you get the idea. Forget the fact that tons of babies are born every single year all around the world. My baby is going to be born of the same vintage as some celebrity’s baby. And I still don’t really know who the f*ck January Jones is. But apparently, no-one knows who the father is…shocker.

Don’t even get me started on all the people who think there’s something in the water when they see more than a couple of bumps in my extended social circle!

And let me just say that it gets my goat that celebrities don’t ever reveal how far along they are (probably to avoid crazy paparazzi attention close to the birth), because if I am able to look at skinny celebrities in magazines who are airbrushed and make myself feel crap about my short little legs, then I deserve to be able to compare my bump to other celebrities’ bumps (at all the different stages of pregnancy) and make myself feel awful too! Equal rights!

I think it’s just my odd way of looking for people (or those in the public eye) to relate to as I experience pregnancy for the first time. I don’t want to get overloaded with it all, but it’s nice to know that there are other people going through it all at the same time as me (except I don’t have nannies waiting on stand by or a personal trainer to get me back in shape or exclusive magazine spreads). I’m just so damn fascinated with baby bumps at the moment!! Watch out!

An ever changing reality. Or WTF.

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As I enter the second trimester of (cute) alien incubation, reality is starting to dawn on me: Life will NEVER be the same again. I mean, I knew this before we went into this baby creating venture but I don’t think I really knew it until boom! Pregnancy happened!

It’s also strange seeing a different reflection in the mirror. Just as you get used to one silhouette of yourself, another one emerges – even bigger and weirder than the one before! I admit that last night I startled myself when I walked through our bathroom 😛

And don’t even ask me what’s going on with my boobal region…

Reality 1: Time to cancel the Contiki tour of Europe!

So…earlier this year we decided that we would enjoy our childless “youth”, get our arses (and savings) into gear and book a Contiki tour of Europe for August. We were going to drink our way around a few countries, hop on and off a coach, and sleep in hostel accommodation for a couple of intense weeks. YIPPEE!!!

…Now we realise that at roughly 6 months along, I might not enjoy it quite as much. Long haul flights, long days, longer nights, jet lag and a bunch of rowdy drinkers (minus me) just don’t seem so appealing anymore.

Cue a whole lot of phone calls to the people we booked it through, begging them to help us cancel the tour in a timely manner!

Of course I’m a bit sad. I was really looking forward to spreading my travel wings!

We’re hoping to get a few smaller scale, more relaxing holidays booked in before the baby comes though so I’m excited about those 🙂

Reality 2: I am more self conscious of my physical appearance than I anticipated

I always thought that I would just embrace (and flaunt) my new, ever changing pregnant body. I thought that people who get body image issues while pregnant were full of nonsense – don’t they know they are so blessed to even be able to create and grow life inside them? They should shut up and get over it and love their bodies.

I still do believe that on a bunch of levels, but to be honest my brain hasn’t caught up with my body yet! I am still that girl who was working out (hard) and counting calories in order to achieve weight loss and better health! I was making amazing progress and since I went off the pill I lost 6.8kg before the pregnancy weight started to show itself!

In my quiet moments I love my body. I love my belly because it has our precious gummi bear shaped foetus in it. I love to put my hands on it and I love when Lance aka Baby Daddy kisses it and says cute things to it. I love that it means the baby is growing properly and I have always hoped for and dreamed of having a bump one day 🙂

I think that my self consciousness comes from the stupidity of listening to and watching other people. People who talk about people with bigger bumps and make comments about how they must be carrying multiples or “that can’t be all baby – that has to be a whole load of junk food – you know I did see her eating a massive pizza that one time”…

Or skinny minnies who don’t show until the third trimester and unintentionally make me feel embarrassed for overtaking them already!!

Today I posted bump photos on Tumblr (which then posts to my facebook profile). It might look like I am smugly showing off every moment of my pregnancy possible, but I did it for another reason (besides the constant requests I get). I did it because it took courage. It’s embarrassing putting myself out there like that. I realised that I need to accept everything being out in the open and not be afraid of judgement – it will happen no matter who you are. It’s time to stop wasting my time thinking I look terribly huge or out of kilter with all the other yummy looking mummies to be. I can share this amazing stage of my life with the people who care about me – damn everyone else!

So you heard it here first – I will love my bump (and what it means) – no matter how it compares to others 🙂

Reality 3: I am now part of a weird new club

I am now one of the Going to be Parents club. This means constant talk about pregnancy, family plans, childbirth (OH HOLY MOTHER OF…) and what to do with an actual baby once it arrives (you know – keeping it alive and stuff). I like having a whole new bunch of people to relate to (or a whole new way of relating to the people I already know), but it is a little strange!

It’s a club that I didn’t exactly sign up for so membership is going to have to grow on me! I like it but I realise how lucky I am to be a part of it. I am a little wary of becoming nothing but a baby encyclopaedia/walking talking incubator for the next 6 months. I don’t think even I could stand me. It’s the biggest thing going on in my life right now, but I want to make sure I don’t unintentionally get too self centred (other than on this blog haha).

Reality 4: I am completely and utterly clueless

I’ve planned a wedding, made travel arrangements, know how to take out a car insurance policy and have completed a university degree. I know how to create a spreadsheet, how to make cupcakes and how to change a tyre (well that’s a bit rusty). I know how to ride a bicycle, how to catch a train, how to shop online and how to buy a house!

What I do not know is how to be pregnant 🙂

I had a little freak out earlier in the week about this, but some reassuring words from a couple of people made me realise that it’s all OK. It’s not like I’ve done this before – it’s just one of those steep learning curves we get in life – I’ll get it 🙂

It’s OK to be Awesomely Unprepared (had to mention my blog title somewhere).

Reality 5: I haven’t been possessed with another personality just because I’m up the duff…much

Sure, my interests, conversation topics and social habits might be growing and changing over time but I am relieved to know that I am still the ridiculous person I was before I got pregnant!

I don’t know why but I feared that I would become the kind of person who suddenly refuses to eat anything that isn’t organic, starts buying matching sets of Crocs for the entire family, doesn’t use swear words in case the foetus hears/feels them, gets a bland haircut and wears 3/4 pants with floral blouses at the shops.

I don’t start crying every time I see a baby on TV (well not every time) and I still get a good laugh when I see photos of ugly babies on the internet (I’m so going to hell). I remember being quite alarmed (but mostly relieved) at about 2 months, when I saw a child running along a strip of pavement wearing a beer carton on her head (without eye holes), falling face (or box) first, then getting straight back up and running full pelt only to do it again. The stupidity made me laugh like a crazy person. I only questioned whether I was ready to be a maternal, loving mother for a couple of seconds before I started giggling again.

Lance and I have purchased a book of baby names (you should have seen us sneak into the shop looking like mischievous teenagers who were Up to Something) and have been laughing ever since. There are some ridiculous names out there. Apparently you can call your baby boy Gavril. The hubby thinks we should totally do it if we have a boy and that his middle name should be Lavigne. Gavril Lavigne. Bahahahaha. You can also call your daughter Anenome (I can’t even spell it for a start). I told Lance that if we had a son as well, we should call him Sea Cucumber. I really hope we find some nice, sensible names before the baby is born. We’re only up to the names beginning with C.

Yesterday there was a baby (a very cute and very little one) in my vicinity and I didn’t even have to hold her to be able to admire her adorableness. I am very excited about having one of my own, but I’m not suddenly crazy clucky overnight either. I’m OK with that 🙂

xoxo