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.
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 don’t intend to become a food blogger any time soon but if I would, I would make meringue looking like small bird shits.
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:
When you haven’t figured out your best selfie angle yet
Any football fans out there? (Americans: please read Soccer, or whatever you call it). I am obviously watching the World Cup because what else is there to do. Life right..
I am very fortunate with my employer that decided to do a Google and put up major screens and bean bags in the office so we could all stay forever and work AND watch the game. Win – Win I guess.
Considering I don’t live in my home country I turn very Swedish during these Events. The flag is out and I try to brainwash as many of my colleagues as possible about meatballs and The Northern Light. I also tried to recruit an audience for the game yesterday.
As you can see the game was extremely popular. Hard to hear anything from all the noice.
Hard to keep track of these Swedish hooligans.
Whats up bloggerz? Are you enjoying the summer?
Summer in Dubai means one thing – try your best to get out of here as fast and as long as possible. This is obviously just possible if you are not working so the rest of us have to enjoy a little vacation instead and the rest of the time you get to know the inside play areas really well. Yesterday I went on one of the slides in our favorite play place so many times that my pants ripped. Not that I noticed it anyway. Well, not until a few hours later when I had been walking around flaunting my left butt cheek in the worlds biggest shopping mall, during peak time of course. Good thing I got a hell of a butt.
My husband had his birthday this weekend. He was happy that I arranged a surprise but not so happy that he realize that he actually was turning 35 and not 34. He is determined he lost a year somewhere. I said yes, it’s called getting a child.
He was also determined that I am plotting his murder after he saw his cake that I ordered . No, the guy is not dead. He is just drunk! My husband is English, come on.
Sometimes it happens.
Nobody is really prepared for it or expect it.
We can sense something recognizable but we have forgotten what it really felt like.
What is it?
Is that a shadow on the ground?
Is this the chosen day?
Yes, this is the chosen day.
These are clouds.
Aaah, that’s what they are called… it’s been a while oh, fluffy white balls.
Always sunny and blue skies – Dubai