The other day we went to visit the hospital where I will be giving birth, for a little tour. Even if it’s a different place than last time, it brought back some memories. Oh the pain, oh the emotions, oh what day is it? Oh wow, did that thing live inside of me..?
The thoughts of never being this tired in my entire life. Understanding why no sleep should be counted as a form of torture.
“Isn’t she the cutest thing anyone has ever seen? Has the world seen an amazing creature like this before?” When I’m looking back at those pictures today, I realize she was very wrinkly and blue and actually not THAT cute (But a few weeks later she was).
Walking from the bed in to the shower was the longest walk of my life (3-4 meters). I told the midwife I needed a glass of water with me in to the shower or I would faint.. And she gave it to me without looking at me like I was an idiot. Wondering why nobody ever told me about the pain of a shrinking uterus while breastfeeding.
Loosing count of how many times someone would come in to my room and grab my boobs and say “Time to breastfeed. Think Hamburger grip”, like I was some kind of menu. How I wanted to do the exact same thing to the all the different nurses coming in to me and see how they would feel about it. But I was too tired to squeeze anyone’s boobs or to tell anyone to fuck off. In the end I was used to boob grabbing. And hamburger grip. And being treated like my body wasn’t mine. I later realized that my body hadn’t been mine for a long time and for now, it belonged to a little person. Not crazy grabbing nurses. And it was totally ok.
Tough but ok.
When we left the hospital tour it felt like the countdown started. Tick tock… We are doing it all again.
Pain is love as Ja Rule raps.
I’m pretty sure that my unborn child will have a slight smell of buttery popcorn when he comes out.
This is what my desk at work looks like every afternoon. The days I forget to bring popcorn, my colleagues does it for me. I’m surrounded by feeders.
There seem to be a trend on Facebook and Instagram to put two really hot pictures of yourself from today versus ten years ago and then have people act surprised how you didn’t change AT ALL even though you don’t look like that picture and never did.
I took on the challenge anyway. I’m sure this works with balls as well, guys. Just saying. Don’t go all “uh, boobs and breastfeeding” on me. Yeah, those balls are stretched as well! And it’s because you keep on scratching them all the time.
I have a new addiction and it’s sparkling water. I’m the worst when it comes to drinking water in general. I’m always dehydrated apparently, without knowing it. If I have a facial I get told “your skin is dehydrated”, if I go to the midwife she says “your body is dehydrated”, when I walk passed the water dispenser it says “you haven’t been here for a while”. But since I started choosing the bubbly version I consume more. I guess it’s my body missing sparkling wine or champagne. Oh wine… can’t wait to have a new born and fall asleep after a sip of wine at 734 pm.
One thing that crossed my mind though is my dear little baby in the belly. Can I drink too much sparkling water? At one point will he feel like he is in a constant jacuzzi? Is it a Spa kind of feeling or more like a washing machine?
Guess I’ll just have to ask him when he comes out.
Also I can only wear tops one day at the time as the belly is now big and catches everything I spill. Which I pretty much everything I eat.
Above is a current picture of myself. Apparently. Because I am pretty sure that rubbing my belly means good luck. My belly must be so irresistible as everyone keeps on touching me. I don’t mind. Come rub me. It’s itching. Do my back also while you are at it.
I wanted to share some interesting conversations I had this week. Please feel free to share yours in the comment section.
– saying “no, you can’t climb in the fridge” to my toddler about three times a day. I mean thirty.
– Our lifesaver and babysitter told me that her brother is now a sister and he is happy to take the unopened makeup I have.
– Discussion over the dinner table with my husband that shitting your pants is more common than one would think. I told that when you are pregnant a fart isn’t always a fart. He nodded and said, same when you are guy, but just always. I like that we can talk about everything.
I’ll finish off with some marriage advice from a younger generation:
I’m hoping that this post will generate several positive comments from parents of more than one child saying “Oh, it’s a blast! So easy and refreshing. You won’t even notice that there is one more.”
Do you guys have anything that you feel that you need to stop doing?
I guess we all do ..
For example, I need to stop forgetting things upstairs that needs to be taken downstairs. Especially since it takes me approximately 50 years to go down the stairs with a toodler.
She takes two steps then watches the view (the wall), sit down for a break (need a breather), stops just to laugh at something or to scream at something or just stops to turn around and walk upstairs again (yeay, let’s start over from the beginning you little …….)
Second thing is put oil all over myself and then go to pee. I can explain.
When you are pregnant and getting ready to get yourself in to an elephant state you pretend that oil will save your skin from stretchmarks and looking like one of the characters in The Expendables.
Sure, it’s probably a trick from retail again to ensure we spend our money on unnecessary things in cute bottles that smells good but it feels good to be shiny and slippery. So I have this routine that I came up with when I expected my first and every night I pretty much drown myself in oil and THEN add the fattest Nivea body lotion I can find. After the process of rubbing it in, I have more layers of protection than a polar bear and would be able to withstand a winter in the North Pole. BUT!
Its at this point I always realise I need to pee.. and people, the damn toilet seat is not meant for a slippery butt. I feel that I should report myself as a “new miss” (if my house had an HSE department) every night.
Occasionally other butts have been hurt in this process. But this butt is hairier and doesn’t slip as easy though.