Mumma guilt: is it really worth the trip?

At 24 weeks pregnant I’m finding myself quite sensitive and easily pissed off, most likely attributed to those prominent pesky pregnancy hormones. I seem to be really over thinking things lately (probably a trait I suffered from before pregnancy, but more so now). I’ve mostly been mulling over my past parenting mistakes and things I could have done differently. Like when my son had just turned two and I closed the car door on his poor little fingers. Or the time I put him in a bath filled with super hot water, because I didn’t check the water temperature first. I felt terrible about it! At the time I imagined other mothers looking down at me thinking “Quick, someone call child services!”. Yeah I made a few boo boos, probably more than I care to mention, but show me a mother who doesn’t.

shutterstock_guilt-ball-and-chain-jpgAt the end of the day The Little Guy came out completely unscathed. However, for some reason, I decided to beat myself up for it. Like somehow was a bad mum for not making more of an effort to prevent those things. At the end of the day I need to put things into perspective and understand that they were mistakes. Mistakes, which in the grand scheme of things, were small. I’ve learnt from them and hopefully won’t be making them again with baby number two. It’s funny though as parents how we can sometimes struggle to let things like that go. *Frozen’s “Let it go” blasts through my head*. 

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Gestational Diabetes Test, aka Glucose Tolerance Test.

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So this test is fun…. not. I hear this makes a few mums-to-be really sick, like vomit sick. Luckily, I’ve done this test twice now (during my last pregnancy) and have never had that experience. 

Prior to arriving for the test you’re asked to fast for at least 8 hours beforehand. Normally the test is done first thing in the morning and they tell you to fast from midnight onwards. You start by having your blood taken, then drinking around 250 mls of a glucose solution, which is sickly-sweet and gross. It reminds me of one of those Zooper Dooper ice block sticks I used to munch on as a kid in summer. As the ice block melted it released a cavity rich, syrup like liquid that you sucked up from the bottom. Sure I enjoyed them in my youth, but as an adult they make me cringe.

You then sit and wait. At the one hour mark they take more blood, and then you sit and wait some more. At the two hour mark they take blood for a third and final time. You’re to do this without food and only a few sips of water. If you’re lucky (like me), during the 3rd blood test they end up have a good ole poke around with the needle. As I was dehydrated they had trouble finding a vein that would draw blood. After some ambitious digging (ow!), it didn’t seem to be happening, so they decided to try the other arm. Whilst switching arms they explained that if they couldn’t get a sample, I’d have to come back and do the test all over again. My immediate thought was “Heeellll no!” – did I mentioned this test is NOT FUN?  Another digging expedition was carried out on my alternate arm (double ow!!), and this time it was (thankfully) successful.  Read More

Second trimester pregnancy symptoms.

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So I’m starting to look more pregnant by the day. At 22 weeks my belly has definitely developed into a prominent baby sized bulge protruding forth and getting in the way of everything. My baby’s kicks and punches are getting progressively stronger by the day. Actually, as I type, she seems to be going a few rounds with the laptop resting on my tummy. The laptop shudders with each bump. Cute! 

Sleeping has started to become really uncomfortable and I can no longer sleep in my favourite position – on my back. I have actually had a few nights where I’ve woken in the middle of the night to find myself on my back and with numb arms – yikes.  I’ve read that sleeping on your back after around 16 weeks is not recommended, due to the weight your growing baby puts on a main vein in your spine that supplies blood to your heart. So now I spend the nights continuously turning from side to side, which prevents me from getting a solid sleep. Not to mention all the freaky-vivid-dreams I seem to be having. Whilst I can’t do much about the crazy-ass dreams, I’m going to get a pregnancy pillow to hopefully make sleeping on my side more comfortable. 

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Caution: Pregnant eating machine ahead!

21 weeks down, feeling loads better and finally back on track. I’ve returned to eating normally and enjoying life again. “Whoop whoop”. However, perhaps in some kind of unconscious effort to make up for lost time, I think I may have jumped back on the food bandwagon a little too overzealous! 

Last week I celebrated my return to health by taking great joy in being able to pleasurably satisfy a guilty food craving. I treated myself to a big gourmet burger and fries loaded with cheese, bacon and gravy. Afterwards I felt thoroughly content and deserving of such a splurge. Seems innocent enough right? Except for a few nights ago whilst out with my girlfriends, we tucked into an immense Italian feast. I stuffed my face with bread, cheese, pizza, pasta, polishing it all off with 2 desserts. By the time I had finished I was so full I could hardly breathe. It was then my girlfriends commented on my new green tinge and asked, “Are you okay?”. Needless to say I had to be rolled out of the restaurant and into a taxi. Feeling completely gross I spent the ride home contemplating ‘to spew, or not to spew?’. By the time I had arrived home, I was in a world hurt. My stomach was so huge and uncomfortable that I felt in danger of it exploding, leaving the baby exposed, unimpressed and looking back up at me in pure disgust. I spent the rest of the night jacked up on antacids, in sleepless agony asking myself “Wwwhhhyyyyy?!?!”. 

"The very hungry pregnant lady. A parody" book cover.
this book is so me right now!

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A sign saying "keep calm it's a baby girl"

Eek, I’m having a girl! Here’s why I’m already a concerned mother for my unborn daughter.

So I’m 20 weeks (halfway through my pregnancy) and have discovered that the beautiful little baby growing in my belly, is a girl. However, to be honest, I had always imagined myself having boys, as I felt (perhaps naively) that it would be easier. I know parents-to-be aren’t “supposed” to suffer from gender disappointment, but secretly they do. People say “Why does it matter, as long as it’s healthy?”. Whilst I agree with that statement and at the end of the day no matter what, I will love that baby with my whole heart and soul, some people have their reasons.

My notion of wanting to just raise boys probably stems from the fact that I am one of six girls in my family. Having five sisters I know all too well the social dramas, hormonal changes, conformable pressures, pop culture influences and self-esteem issues a young woman is exposed to and really struggles with. Although I know and understand that boys too can also experience these things. I do feel that in regards to things like the media, which can have a major influence, girls are slightly more targeted and thus can be more exposed to, or pressurised by what certain marketing channels are portraying. In a world that is currently driven by glossy magazines, talentless reality “stars” and social media, I worry how I will help my daughter combat a world whose media is not only constantly promoting superficial beauty, but glorifying the sexual objectification of young women. 

Women are endlessly bombarded by all sorts of beauty products that promise to make them “look better”. Not to mention the constant stream of provocative images that are being flaunted by magazines, celebrities and music videos. These things alone are teaching our girls that there is a social standard of how women should look, and that sexually personifying your body can earn you kudos. I mean, we all know the negative body image ramifications these certain forms of media are perpetuating. How many teenage girls (even tweens) do you see on Instagram or Facebook posting seductive selfies? You see these poor girls that are scantily clad, posing with pouty lips, face slapped up with make-up to look like they’re five years older, just so they can measure how much people “like” them. These days you can even use different types of filters, apps and Photoshop tools to cosmetically tweak your photos, so that you don’t even end up looking like you. And yes, there are grown women out there doing the same, so it begs the question: Why are we so god damn afraid of people seeing who we really are?! In the good ol’ days you took a photo and what you saw was what you got. No smoke and mirrors to hide behind or deceive others. Young women these days are being taught to obsess over their physical image and be less authentic versions of themselves!

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On the mend (thanks mum!).

Picture of card saying "you're never too old to need your mum"After being discharged from hospital for the second time, my sweet mother decided to move in (temporarily) and nurse me back to health. Not only was I so grateful and thankful to have her by my side, Hubby and The Little Guy loved having her around too. She did me wonders. After just 3 days, she managed to add 5 more things to the list of foods I could eat and helped me regain most of my strength back. Not to mention I had not vomited once since she had been here #winning. Aren’t mums awesome! I mean my mum has never failed to be there for me when I’ve needed her most. But there’s something really special about them still being able to take care of you, even when you’re all grown up!

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Emergency hospital trip. Round 2.

After the visit to the gastroenterologist I was left in a state of dismay. I felt that perhaps I should have had my new condition explained to me  a little better. Also I would of really appreciated some advice on what I could do/eat at home so that I wouldn’t exacerbated my Gastritis. Instead, I read up on it myself and the foods that could help heal my inflamed stomach. After researching quite a bit, I decided to “rest” my gut and resided to a diet of home made bone broth and gluten free bread.

I did this for 3 days, until I got to a point where I was so hungry I was close to gnawing my own limbs off! Although the pains had started to subside, the baby inside me was screaming out for more sustenance. So one morning I got real adventurous and decided to try some gluten free cereal. Wrong move! No sooner had I consumed the (small) bowl, than I was throwing up all over the place again. Nooooo! Just when I thought I had jumped an incredibly difficult hurdle. I had taken my anti-nausea medication earlier, but I guessed that came up with breakfast. So to try and get a hold on my vomiting fit, I took it again. Which just made me vomit even more! The Hyperemesis was back with vengeance and it wasn’t even letting me keep sips of water down. Needless to say I spent the morning on the couch with my head buried in a spew bucket.

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Great! Now I have Gastritis!!

After being in hospital, I have not been able to bring myself to eat much. Although the medication seems to have helped with the vomiting, I’m still feeling terribly nauseous. I’ve also developed this horrible, incredibly intense, gnawing pain just under my rib cage in the middle of my stomach. It’s almost as if the baby hates me and is clawing its way up and out of my stomach. I actually feel like I could be in danger of reenacting a scene from the movie ‘Alien’. It gets really bad at night and I spend most of the time writhing around in pain, desperately praying it just goes away. Surely this can’t be another (albeit delayed) symptom of Hypermesis Gravardium? So I start to think I may have developed another problem. Which would be just my luck. Can’t a pregnant lady catch a break?!aliens-movie-chestburster

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Introducing Hyperemesis Gravidarum.

Okay this is getting ridiculous! Where the hell is the 2nd trimester respite and relief all the pregnancy sites write about? It can’t be normal that I’m 16 weeks pregnant and this sick?! The constant vomiting non-stop all day for the last week and a bit has been torture and has really taken its toll. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t even want to eat as I know all I do is throw it straight back up. Sometimes I’m so vomited out I feel as though I’m just throwing up water and stomach acid. I’ve spent the last couple of days in bed, too weak to do anything and spend a lot of the time crying, wondering why this pregnancy is as horrible as it is. Not to mention I feel like such a bad Mumma right now. The house looks like a bomb’s gone off and I’m sure The Little Guy is feeling neglected. Thank god for Preschool and play days at the neighbours. Hubby is very concerned with how ridiculously unwell I am. 

Finally, I decide that it can’t just be “morning sickness” and head to my doctor’s after the morning preschool drop. By this stage I’m very gaunt looking and sporting a glowing green tinge. Whilst in the waiting room I’m asked by two strangers if I’m okay and did I need assistance. Dear God, I must look like death warmed up! As I sit in my doctor’s office and recount how horrifically sick I’ve been, tears of exhaustion and helplessness stream down my face. In a very sympathetic and concerned manner she tells me I have Hyperemesis Gravidarum. She explains that with how long it has gone on for and in the weakened state I’m in, I need to head straight to emergency. She writes me an admission letter for the hospital and off I go.

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Return of the morning sickness from hell!

Okay like I said in my last post, I’m running behind with actually posting my pieces. Although I’m constantly writing and am up-to-date in “real time”. I’m just too slow at actually getting them online and up on my site. I’m of course going to blame it on the fact the I’m one busy Mumma (aren’t we all!). But regardless, my New Year’s resolution from here on in is to get them out there faster and more frequently. 

Vector of girl with purple hair vomiting green liquid.
Current mood

As I mentioned in my last post, I suspected my prolonged “morning sickness” was getting more intense. Indeed it was! This week I’m 15 weeks pregnant and find myself constantly chained to the toilet, head rammed in the bowl, except now I’m actually vomiting my guts out. This is all while The Little Guy tries to wrap his head around the fact that the majority of my attention has shifted from him to my rampant hurling. Like I have a choice!

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