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.
I took the picture from a distance pretending she didn’t belong to me but the next second she was up and running around and laughing again. I just assume toddlers are psychopaths.
So we had a really nicely decorated Christmas tree. A normal one that had these little colorful balls ALL over it. Meaning from bottom to the top.
But it seems that this year, the little person in my life decided that decorations are overrated. At least the ones within an arm length reach. Therefore everything keeps on moving upwards in the tree. I’m pretty sure that the tree will soon end up being “naked”. No decorations for safety precautions. So far I have found ornaments in the toilet, in the fridge and even outside (!).
For now our tree will look like this. It’s a crop-top kind of way of decorating. Next year we have to get a taller one.
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 don’t intend to become a food blogger any time soon but if I would, I would make meringue looking like small bird shits.
Did you all have a nice Halloween (the ones that celebrates)? When I moved from Sweden a few years ago Halloween still wasn’t that big of a thing but I think it has changed the last years. In Dubai it’s a different story and in the area where we live most families went all in with house decorations and dress ups for the kids as well as themselves.
We didn’t decorate our house but I surely made sure that I would get some candy with minimal effort. I used child labor and a pumpkin outfit and told her not to come back until the bucket was full of candy. The other kids had a small little pumpkin bucket. My child had a big bucket we use for the beach which was probably three times the size of everyone else’s. Don’t want to risk running out of space.
Whilst my daughter managed to come back with a full bucket for her mum (she is not eating any sugar yet mmmmhahah) I excused myself from sharing anything. Because that’s just who I am. Hungry and sneaky.