“Ooh you must be due any day now”… 

Well I’m not!

In fact I’m not due for another 3 months yet, but that doesn’t stop people telling me how huge I am or comparing me to various modes of transport (and no, I’m really not joking. A colleague genuinely told me I looked like the front of a ship this week) 

It’s not that I mind. I mean I am growing a person after all so I totally expected my body to change and I’m embracing that and actually loving that my body is doing this amazing thing, but it does irk me that people seem to think it’s completely acceptable to point out just how huge you are! It’s just plain rude if you ask me. I wouldn’t dream of telling someone they looked huge – pregnant or otherwise! Particularly as I’m still eating healthily, I haven’t gained weight anywhere but my bump (OK, and my boobs which were cartoon big before I was pregnant so now are competing with the bump as to which stands more prominent!) but, I certainly haven’t just thought “sod it! I’m eating for two pass the chocolate!” The weight I’ve gained is good weight, healthy weight, baby growing weight. I’m ok with that so frankly, anyone else can just kiss my (apparently now fat) ass. 

The thing that annoys me the most with this though is that I’m thick skinned, and I’m comfortable with my body and the changes it’s currently going through, but not everyone is. I know several other pregnant ladies who would be reduced to tears if someone told them they looked like the front of a ship! So what about those women? Why should they be made to feel bad about their appearance? Isn’t it bad enough that we get “fat shamed” or criticised for having cellulite or stretch marks when we’re at our best, without picking on us when we’re at our most vulnerable and most uncomfortable? 

Bottom line though for me? I think people need to engage their brains before their mouths and realise that their words can be hurtful or offensive (or both!) and  maybe the next time someone has something negative to say about my body, I’ll politely point out that after feeling my body had failed me I’m more than happy to take a little weight gain if that means I have a healthy, happy little boy at the end of it. 

And on that indignant, self righteous note here’s a picture of me today at 26+4. So definitely not “due any day now”! 



Third trimester…meltdown city! 

My second trimester has been totally uneventful – which is great! It meant I felt better, had more energy, felt more like my old self again…but now as I enter the third trimester it’s really hit me. I’m having a baby. I know that sounds ridiculous and believe me, I spent most of last week feeling ridiculous and irrational and vaguely hysterical. (Poor Paul is all I can say!) The sad truth though, if I’m really honest is that I never really expected to get here. I never actually thought that being pregnant would result in a baby this time, because it didn’t last time. It’s only now that I realise I’ve been holding my breath and waiting for the thing I fear most to happen again. And then I passed the “viable” stage, and now with every week that passes the chances of my baby surviving even if he came early get stronger and stronger. 

And so of course I freaked out! 

All the things you’re supposed to think, worry and obsess about when you get pregnant I guess have kind of been on hold for me. Until now. But boy did I unleash them all last week! 

I’ve been suffering with SPD aka Pelvic Girdle Pain for most of the second trimester but it’s really ramped up pain wise in the last few weeks. As a result I’m not sleeping very well and I’m constantly in discomfort…these things combined with epic hormone surges and still working full time have made for a grumpy, emotional and irritable Cerian. It has not been a fun few weeks. Again I say, poor Paul! 

So last week it culminated in me convincing myself I was going to be a terrible mother, a failure to my son, and generally an all round useless human being. Now, with the love and support of Paul, my friends and family and the distance from last week’s hormonal mess I can see that while those worries are legitimate, they’re perfectly normal and as Paul pointed out while I was mid meltdown, the very fact that I worry about being a good mother means I’m already halfway there. He is very wise. So this week I’m feeling a lot better mentally. I’m still exhausted and grumpy, but I’m back to being impatient and excited to meet my little man, and I love all the little wriggles and kicks I feel – even when they are waking me up at 3am! 

I wasn’t sure whether to post this blog…I worried it would come across as me being ungrateful for being pregnant, moaning that pregnancy is hard when I know first hand how awful it is to want to still be pregnant and be able to do nothing about it, but when I started this blog it was all about being honest and talking candidly about my experience. So in the end I decided that I should continue with that honesty, and say out loud that yes; I have lost a baby and yes it was awful, and yes; of course I’m thankful that I was able to get pregnant again and sustain this pregnancy…but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy, and I shouldn’t have to plaster a smile on and pretend it is out of some sort of misplaced guilt, should I? 

I hope that in being bold enough to say “I’ve had a wobble” other women who may be feeling the same will feel less alone. I felt ashamed that I was feeling so overwhelmed, scared and anxious and yeah, I felt ungrateful. And that just exacerbated all the feelings of being a failure that I already had so it was a vicious cycle that had me sobbing hysterically for about three days straight. 

Pregnancy is an amazing thing, and most of the time I love and enjoy it but some weeks are really bloody hard. Maybe that’s ok though. Maybe it’s ok to find it hard. Maybe it’s ok to have a wobble. Does it make me a bad person? A bad mother? A bad woman? Probably not. It just makes me human. 

As I lie here watching my little boy wriggling around, oblivious to how crazy his mother is, I feel content and at peace. So in the grand scheme of things, I think we’re probably going to be ok. I have no doubt that it’ll continue to be hard sometimes, but more than anything I think it’ll always be a miraculous, wonderful, amazing thing. Worth a little bit of crazy any day.