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First Trimester Troubles
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I’m starting to get fairly familiar with the trials and tribulations of the first trimester. I honestly think everything about it sucks, and I don’t feel bad for thinking it or saying it out loud.
I know there’s lots of people out there who would like to be pregnant, or think that pregnant people should just be grateful for the situation they are in, which I can understand too, but I don’t think there’s any need to pretend it’s all sunshine and roses.
Because it isn’t.
Apart from feeling disgusting, seeing your body change shape, having a certain amount of anxiety about tests and scans, and depending about your views and preferences, having to keep it all a secret too, the whole situation pretty much blows.
After 3 miscarriages in a row and now onto my fourth pregnancy, I’m feeling like there should be some sort of special discount or deal attached to it.
You know, like “sign up for 3 first trimesters and get the 4th one free” or something.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
But alas, I fear no amount of appealing to the Universe, various Gods, Angels, Fairies, or even good old Mother Nature is probably going to change the pregnancy process, and I would be, no doubt, disappointed with a resounding “no can do’s-ville” booming back down at me.
So, I figure I might as well just embrace the general suckiness of this First Trimester Train all over again, starting with…
… yep you guessed it, the return of
I know I’ve posted a few times about my baby brain, and it might sound like something I’m making up, but it is a serious give-away to me every time that there must be a bun just starting to bake away in this little oven.
It started a few days before I was rounding into week 3 of the pregnancy (yeah, yeah I know, no-one knows they are pregnant 3 weeks in, but trust me, when you’ve been through it 3 times in a year, you just know the signs, even if you’re not “supposed” to have any symptoms yet).
I did that weird thing I do every time I’m pregnant, where I give the cats their biscuits, say goodnight to them, give them a pat and shut them in their laundry / garden before heading to bed myself… I then see the cat’s aren’t, in fact, in their cat area and accuse Sam of leaving the laundry door open.
Which of course, he hasn’t even been near, Miss Baby Brain just hasn’t shut the door again, because THAT’S WHAT SHE DOES WHEN SHE’S PREGNANT #crazycatlady
It’s weird, isn’t it? That leaving the door open thing only happens when I’m pregnant, I swear the baby sucks half my brain away to feed itself or something.
The second baby brain fiasco this time was when I went to the shops and thought long and hard about what I had to do. I needed to stop by Kmart, plus I needed to get some groceries as well.
Of course, the grocery stores and Kmart are at opposite ends of the shopping centre to each other, BUT I have this sneaky little spot where I park that is pretty much dead in between the two and I can get pretty close to both shops without having to cross through the entire shopping centre.
So, I parked in my special spot, and trundled in to the shops, heading over to Kmart. On my way there, I stopped for a second and thought “Hang on, why am I walking past boost juice? Did I park in the spot where I wouldn’t have to walk all the way… oh my goodness, YES, I DID park in the sneaky spot, but my baby brain is so freaking on cue that I walked around the entire shopping centre anyway!”
Why, Why, WHY??
Shaking my head and sighing inwardly at myself, that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Just yesterday, I went to the shops AGAIN to get a couple of days’ worth of groceries. I specifically felt like Salmon, and had been looking forward to making my Crispy Skin Salmon on Pea Puree alllll day.
I finally finished up my work for the evening and got up to put the dinner on. Got everything out ready to prep the meal only to realise…. I had no idea where the Salmon was.
I definitely went to the shops. I definitely stopped at the fish shop. I definitely purchased the fish (there’s a charge on my credit card to prove it). I definitely don’t know what happened next.
I had all the other groceries and bits and pieces and random stuff I bought at the shops. The fish wasn’t in my fridge, and I didn’t leave it in the car… so I feel sorry for which ever shop I left it in (I kinda feel sorry as I giggle over who ever found it, and hope they didn’t find it a few days after I left it… wherever it is).
But, the Baby Brain isn’t the only thing bothering me, there’s also the…
Conundrum that is often on my mind.
I do this thing where I don’t eat anything, because I’m not hungry.
Then, after a while, I start feeling sick.
Then I’m not sure if I’m sick, or if I’m hungry, but then out of nowhere, I suddenly need food, like, 10 minutes ago. I need it quickly, and it needs to be carb-loaded.
And if that’s not enough to annoy the begeezes out of me all day long there’s also the…
I don’t even know where to start with this one.
There’s the sore boobs. Do I even need to mention them?
Of course I do, they are the bane of my existence during pregnancy and I just don’t know to stress How. Much. They. Hurt.
It’s like someone has them in a vice and the second they touch something (hello bra’s), move even a smidgen, or I even try to lay on my side while I’m sleeping, it’s like someone has stabbed them with a hot needle.
If you pop round to my house during the day and I take a while to answer the door… be assured I’m just racing around like a headless chook trying to find the least-offending pair of bras available and taking a few deep breaths while I try to talk myself into putting them on.
If I shy away from you when you hug me, it’s not because I hate you, it’s because I’m. In. Pain. And hugging is like the arch nemesis of pregnant boobs.
My teeth. They get sensitive to everything (I even have to buy special toothpaste that costs an arm and a leg just to get me through) and even though my chocolate cravings are through the roof, I can’t freaking eat it half the time, because it hurts my teeth so much!
Then, there’s the tummy troubles. I say troubles, because there’s more than 1. Firstly, there’s the ever annoying “stretching” feeling of the abdominal muscles that drives me up the wall. I can’t cough, sneeze, sit, stand or roll over in bed without feeling like I’ve torn a muscle.
If that’s not enough, then there’s the issue with getting your pants on, and if you actually manage to button them up, there’s the problem with feeling the pressure on your stomach constantly coupled with the repetitive need to pee every 30 minutes.
Seriously, I pretty much took to wearing jeggings or leggings during pregnancy number 2, and I never looked back. I’m not even embarrassed to say it anymore. I don’t care who knows, comfort is king in times like these.
Similarly, my bones and my muscles kill me. My whole body just hurts sometimes. I don’t know if this is true or not, but I have this theory that the growing baby just strips every tiny morsel of goodness it can from your body in those early weeks and takes it out on your body, making your skin turn scaley, your muscles turn to mush and your bones turn to dust.
I’m clearly over-reacting, but I don’t have any other explanation for the whole-body soreness.
And in case that wasn’t enough, there’s also the undeniable tiredness and general crankiness that goes along with all that.
Lastly, there’s the…
I tend to ignore most of the general “rules” around what you “can” and “can’t” or “should” or “shouldn’t” do while pregnant because, on the whole, I consider it all to be a real bunch of shite.
However, every now and then, something random will come up and I’ll freak out over it.
Take, for example, yesterday when I was at the shops forcing myself to buy fruit, even though I really wanted chocolate. The fruit and veg shop had some nice pre-sliced trays of fruit, so I thought I would fancy a couple since the thought of cutting fruit up is just way too much for me to handle.
So, I was sitting on the couch last night, ready to eat my fruit (may I point out once more, not chocolate, *pats self on back*) when I had a sudden freak-out that maybe you’re not supposed to eat papaya when pregnant.
Is that a thing? I don’t know! Geez, what was I thinking.
So of course, I do what any crazy pregnant lady does and gets on google. The every-trusty search engine promptly informs me that papaya is fine, so long as it is ripe.
What does that mean?
Oh well, I might as well bite into it to see whether it’s ripe or not. So, I do that only to find… it’s not ripe, not
even. It’s crunchy as hell and… hang on a second, is it even papaya?? What am I even eating??
Argh! What ever it is, I fear it’s not ripe! Who the hell buys fruit when they don’t even know what it is? I can’t eat this!!
*furiously runs over to bin and disposes of papaya or whatever the hell non-identifiable fruit that was*
Lesson learnt: choose chocolate over fruit every time, right!? 😉
So, I’m not going to lie. Pregnancy is no picnic. I haven’t covered off half of my general annoyances, I’m actually just too tired to write anymore.
While I go have a nap, I’d love to hear from you… what general things annoy you about pregnancy? Or are you one of those lucky people who thinks it’s a beautiful, magical experience where you’re floating on air in your little baby-love bubble? Actually, don’t tell me, I’ll probably start plotting… something evil in response (kidding! …maybe).
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