Category Archives: pregnancy

Nearly there…

I am one day overdue.

mummykimmy pregnant

It’s such a weird thing waiting to give birth. Every twinge gets your hopes up. I had powerful Braxton Hicks last week for three days which obviously did a great job because when the midwife came on Monday she said I was very close. She said the magic words: “I’ll be very disappointed if you need to be induced” as she did the paperwork and booked my induction for the 19th anyway.

Since I’ve stopped work, the only thing preventing me enjoying this unique time in my life is my super-demanding son, who is taking full advantage of mummy’s temporary disability. I think the worst day was at a large park, when he took off and would not come back. When I eventually caught up with him, he fought my every effort to take him back, screaming, kicking and full-on lying down on the ground and refusing to move. I part carried, part dragged him back to the car, which took a full 20 minutes, and then refused to speak to him for the rest of the afternoon. Carrying him had really f*cking hurt my back, completely screwed up my delicately balanced pelvis and just broken my heart a bit that he should behave so badly.

mummykimmy wee man

But.

This last week he has made a few breakthroughs. We have very nearly cracked the potty training. We have found a workaround for the sleep issues. He is behaving beautifully in his new nursery class and seems to be very popular. He’s eating really well and being very affectionate. If he could just have mummy’s attention 24/7 (including sleeping wrapped around me) then he would be an angel. I’m finding it all quite emotionally sensitive to deal with, but at least I am resting at home those days he is at nursery so I can give him a lot more time and energy when he comes home.

mummykimmy auntie Vick

The other thing that has made a huge difference to me has been getting more help. Rod has reduced his working week to five days so he is now at home on Thursdays and Sundays, which both the wee man and I LOVE. My mum has been up to stay, my sister-in-law has just left after helping out for three days and we have visits from my brother-in-law and in-laws to look forward to. Being left in charge of such a boisterous kid alone, while feeling so physically restricted, has been difficult for me these past few months. It’s been so frustrating saying the words “I can’t manage that”…

mummykimmy kitchen knobs

Not for much longer! I’ve ticked every job off my maternity-leave list – the hall cupboard is organised, all the wee man’s baby kit and clothes have been cleaned for number two, I’ve replaced all the knobs on my kitchen cupboards and, for once, I am on top of the laundry. I am now at the daytime-TV stage. Current obsessions include “Double your house for half the money”; “Without a Trace” and, of course, “Supernanny”. Today I have bleached everything white, mopped everything flat and hoovered everything fluffy.

I am ready.

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What’s this strange feeling?

I’m feeling a surprising emotion right now – I think it’s called… relaxed.

I’m trying to figure out why.

I think it’s because I had nothing in the diary today, except a nail appointment at 3.30 to get rid of the gel polish that chipped about three days ago. Clean nails, as my friend Jenny will agree, is a very quick route to relaxation.

I think it’s also got something to do with my finally feeling better after a stomach bug and a lot to do with the sun shining all day long and my getting four loads of washing hung outside.

It’s what was hanging on my beloved whirligig, though, that’s given me this warm, happy glow.

mummykimmy baby clothes on the line

At ten o’clock this morning, with the wee man safely off to nursery and the joiners working tidily in the spare room, I sat on the floor in front of Homes Under the Hammer with a can of Dr Pepper and two huge airtight storage bags.

Inside were all the wee man’s baby clothes from birth to 12 months.

I spent a nostalgic half hour going through them all, separating out all the white, yellow and green stuff, remembering who had given us each and every outfit. Some of the stuff is just so gorgeous that I don’t even care if it’s a girl, she’ll go out dressed in blue. I mean LOOK at this snow suit!

mummykimmy blue snowsuit

As I waited for the washing machine cycles to end I ticked a whole load of small tasks off my list – you know those little tasks that always get bumped to your “one day I’ll get round to it” list – like copying over those massive video files to free up half your hard drive? I did some filing, put away the Asda shop, made a menu for the next week (yes I still do that) and generally reclaimed that feeling of control that has been so absent from my life lately.

To top off a splendid day, the wee man came willingly home from nursery, ate a whole plate of tuna salad and gave me lots of lovely kisses and cuddles. Then an amazing thing happened. Daddy came home early! The wee man just about burst with excitement when he spotted him through the window and cannoned into him even harder than usual. Off they went to play and I realised that, with the chicken roasting in the oven (great menu planning) I could actually just…. Go and sit down. So here I am blogging, with a neat little pile of folded newborn babygros next to me and unchipped nails and a clean house and a roast chicken in the oven.

I could get used to this.

The end of Shellac - it's the end of an era…

The end of Shellac – it’s the end of an era…

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No room for the muse…

The muse has temporarily deserted me.

I used to really look forward to writing a new mum blog post, those days something funny happened or life taught me a valuable lesson. It would be a treat to open the laptop, upload the photos and indulge my creative writing hobby while the wee man slept.

Maybe that’s been the problem – the lack of sleep.

The naps – those wonderful oases in our crazy days – are long gone, and this summer the 12-hour-straight slumbers from 7.30pm have also disappeared. Some nights it’s been 9pm before he’s finally conked out, only to be up again three hours later. Those nights there’s just time to eat something before passing out ourselves.

But something else pretty big and important has taken over my life recently, and it’s no exaggeration to say it has totally floored me. Pregnancy.

It’s been a totally different experience from first time round. I haven’t enjoyed it at all. I’ve felt generally under the weather the whole time – bone tired, over-emotional, nauseous, achey and completely lacking in energy. I’ve fought it, of course. I’ve taken the supplements, eaten healthily, drunk lots of water, tried to stay active (even though my pelvis has had to be realigned and I’m doing physio every day) and clung to my perspectacles. I’ve made huge efforts to stay rational, to count my blessings that the baby’s been growing healthily, to control the tears and rages, and to continue to be a good mum to the wee man. It’s been a huge effort, especially for a woman with no energy.

Filming for the local business news broadcast - and hiding the bump!

Filming for the local business news broadcast – and hiding the bump!

My business, meanwhile, has taken off. It’s been the best trading year yet. It’s been my escape, living three days a week in a world where success can be measured and to do lists can be achieved. I’ve formulated and delivered effective strategies, returned to some proper journalism, met interesting new contacts and received praise for jobs well done. I’ve felt in control and successful, a nice contrast to toddler battles and a body that challenges me in some new way every day.

mummykimmy press call

Now though, I am four weeks away from my due date. I have finally, and reluctantly, gone on mat leave. The wee man has moved up a class at nursery and now goes three and a half days, which are more evenly spread out during the week. We have found a second babysitter – a trainee paediatric nurse who lives locally – and who the wee man loves. The sleeping has improved – though he is still up once or twice through the night – and even I have to admit that the headspace freed up by not working has allowed me to relax a bit.

Four weeks to go...

Four weeks to go…

I’ve bought myself a new notebook, glued the scan pictures into the first pages and started writing lists. Baby names, suggestions from other mums, things to organise before the wee one arrives… and I’m excited! I’m looking forward to having time alone at home to nest. I can’t wait to go through all the wee man’s old baby clothes and wash anything white, yellow or green. I’m delighted the joiner is coming to build a fitted wardrobe in the baby’s room and paint the whole place white. I’m even up for the challenge of scrubbing the pram and car seat.

I feel a sense of achievement already. And maybe the muse is returning…

 

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10 ways to cope: 7 months pregnant with with a three year old son

1 Take a hot shower every morning.

This will sound ridiculous to the childless and probably to the mums too, for different reasons. You will likely have to do it with the door open, possibly dodge missiles and awkward questions and potentially have to catch flying electrical goods before they zap you, but it sets you up for a good day. Even if your hair has to air dry /ends up only half-straightened/is scraped off your face into a bun, at least you and it are clean and refreshed.

2 Reinstate old tools

He may have been walking for more of his life than not, but if he’s suddenly he’s clicked that you can no longer catch him and runs off at every opportunity, I see no problem with hauling out the reins. The wee man has a little rucksack with a long strap – I’ve clicked it on to a strap from another similar bag and now I have, effectively, a dog leash for my child. In my defence, I’m having major pelvic issues with this pregnancy and can barely walk let alone sprint after him, and he’s developed a bad habit of running into the sea fully-clothed. This way I can venture out in public without suffering a heart attack/getting soaked to the thighs.mummykimmy reins

3 Don’t be afraid of the same-old

We used to have a new adventure every day. My mum used to warn me not to do too much, but I enjoyed these voyages of discovery in our new city as much as the wee man. Now though, I accept that I’ll probably have to pee a lot and must never be too far from the loo. I can never venture so far from the car that I’m stuck with a mid-tantrum child who doesn’t want to leave and who I can’t lift and carry back. I can’t cope with him AND the enormous bag with clothing for every surface and weather condition. So we go to the same places that I know he enjoys and whose facilities I can rely on – just for now.

4 Adopt a zero-tolerance policy to bad behaviour

He’s probably figured out that something really big is about to happen and mummy is not herself, so is pushing even harder at the boundaries. If he’s difficult now, how the hell will I cope with two? By making it crystal clear what is not acceptable. That means nipping everything in the bud, making him sit the full three minutes on the naughty step, taking the time to make him follow instructions and finding new ways to make my point. I’ve discovered that simply disengaging, ignoring him completely and putting him in his room with the stair-gate across while I clean up the mess from the kitchen bin he just “accidentally” dragged through and tipped onto the living room carpet, is very effective. A lot of his bad behaviour is simply for attention – if I withdraw that and only reinstate it when he’s apologised and is behaving well, it sends a clear message.

5 Find new fun, sitting-down games

My child has more energy than Ussain Bolt on Red Bull, so most of our activities involve wide open spaces and a ball. This weekend, though, I braved baking – and it was a huge success. I was really pleasantly surprised how well he listened and concentrated and managed. I just bought a cake mix from M&S, put all the extra ingredients in coloured bowls and supervised while he did most of it. He loved the independence and the space to just get on with it, he loved using the electric whisk and he seemed to take real pride in spooning the mixture evenly into the cases. There was some mess, of course, but nothing like what I expected. He even enjoyed the washing up. I gave him lots of praise and he lapped it up – all while I sat on my (expanding) ass. Guess what we’ll be doing every week now?

mummykimmy baking

6 Don’t feel guilty for taking time off

It is a physical impossibility to live your life at the same pace when you’re so pregnant, so just embrace it. (or so I keep telling myself). If there’s a creche at your gym, don’t think twice about booking him in then buggering off to the coffee shop. Accept every offer of help, no matter how much you may suspect they’re just being nice and don’t really mean it. I am definitely a much better mum when I’ve had a break, even a wee short one, and especially an indulgent one where I’ve done nothing but read a few chapters of my book.

7 Be realistic about work

Hahaha. I’m still working on this one. A friend advised me, a few months ago when I was telling him about this amazing new project I’d been invited to get involved in, “remember you’re going to be, like, ill for six months”. I spluttered into my decaf latte and told him to stop being so sexist. But the b*stard had a point. I’ve got eight weeks to go and I already feel disabled – tired, emotional, yes ill a lot of the time. As the realisation has dawned on me that I am not, in fact, superwoman, I have turned down two new clients and brought forward my end date. I’m now super-excited about the fact I will have the whole of September to get my shit together for the baby coming, nest, relax, and sleep!

8 Eat and drink well

Aware that my running days were over pretty much in the first trimester, I had been trying to cut down on treats. The whole ‘eating for two’ thing is a myth, right? I comforted myself that the morning sickness was an insurance policy against too much weight gain. Ha. When you haven’t slept properly for weeks, your three year old is pushing every button and you aren’t even allowed a calming glass of wine, cake is the only answer. No, actually giant cookies work too. And slabs of chocolate. As for trying not to drink too much to cut down on the endless trips to the bathroom – well, that seemed to make sod all difference. I now have a pint of squash on hand at all times and have become completely addicted to San Pellegrino. It’s like when you’re hungover to hell and think, well, even if I bring this McDonalds right back up, at least I’ll have something to be sick with.

9 Take it easy on your husband

Men will never fully understand what it is to be pregnant, and thank God for that, or the world would surely implode. I’m doing my best to keep the psycho outbursts to a minimum and I try to be rational about the things that are bothering me. Rod has been wonderful with the wee man – this morning he got up, made breakfast and entertained him before taking him out swimming so I could have the morning off. The fact that he left Play Doh all over the table, the milk, butter and juice all out on the counter, the toys strewn everywhere and the plates on top of the dishwasher (which I had switched on last night) was not important. I cleared it all up with good humour and not once did I mutter “could he not tidy as he goes?” I didn’t even mention it to him when they got back. Honest.

10 If in doubt, laugh and say ‘f*ck it’

As overwhelming, tiring and goddamn frustrating as it is to be heavily pregnant and in charge of a three year old – there are worse things. Sometimes I struggle to believe that, but it’s true. So what if people keep hilariously remarking, “Are you sure you’re not having twins?”. So what if I’m endlessly tired cos I’m either settling the wee man who’s doing his newborn impression or relieving my bladder. So I’m gasping for a cocktail, dying to go shopping and making old lady noises every time I get off the couch. It’s not for much longer – and then that’s me done with having babies. So haha, f*ck it, let’s just enjoy the experience…

mummykimmy rod and wee man

 

 

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Lucky ladybird?

I am now 9 days overdue.

I’m trying very hard to stay calm, eat well, sleep, stay active. I’m fighting the crazy hormones which make me alternately want to cry, scream, break things and lock myself in a dark room until labour commences.

This afternoon a ladybird landed on my bump. I have a bit of a thing about ladybirds – they’ve always brought me luck.

So please, God, let this be a sign that my baby will be arriving soon!

Lucky ladybird?

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The trouble with socks

It’s a common problem for pregnant women – even if you’re lucky enough to be able to see your feet, you can’t reach them.

I was complaining to my friend Jenny, who’s an Occupational Therapist, about how difficult it was to put my socks on in the morning. “I have the very thing,” she said. “A Foxy.”

A more blinding misnomer I have yet to find, but don’t let that put you off. This simple wee piece of plastic has made my mornings. Look:

One foot, one pair of socks, one Foxy

Curve Foxy, hold it in place with your knees and lay the tapes either side

Slide your sock over the top, making sure the toe is right at the edge

Pull your sock up over the ridge and make sure the elastic isn't tucked under

Fling it on the floor, slip your foot in and use the tapes to pull it up

Keep pulling

Keep pulling

Voila!

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Overdue & overwrought

My due date has been and gone with a Red Nose on.

Although I’ve had plenty of Braxton Hicks over the last two weeks, junior isn’t showing much intention of appearing.

I’ve been getting loads of calls, texts, tweets and messages from friends and family. The best ones say things like: “thinking of you”; “hope you’re not too uncomfy”; “let us know if you need anything”. I don’t so much like the “any news?” messages and the “keep me in the loop” ones are worst of all.

I know they’re all very well-meaning and I’m lucky to have so many people care, but those last ones make me feel like I’m failing somehow. I’m keeping people waiting (which I hate, I’m always early), I’m not holding up my end of the bargain and I must explain myself. It’s like the boss is calling to ask why I’m still off sick.

I know I’m overreacting. I’m hormonal, bloated, uncomfortable to the point of being in pain and, despite my hypnobirth training, more than a little bit apprehensive about what lies ahead. Really all I want is to be left alone to slink off into a dark quiet place and do what I have to do. Then I’ll be able to emerge into the light with my gorgeous baby and share all the joy in the world.

Please let that day come soon.

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