The Morning After

So, it's The Morning After the stupid argument, and I have had virtually no sleep. Not least because when I did start to drift off I started having a very bizarre dream about Diana Ross. Not as she is now, but as she used to be in the '60's. This began to disturb me, especially when she was singing in a high pitched voice something along the lines of 'You need to take care of your heart'. Now whether she meant Heart as in your 'body where all the talent is' (another line from the weird song - sorry), or 'Heart where all the love is', I haven't got a clue, but I do know that all the weird psychedelic '60's swirls and colours were freaking me out, so I woke up. I looked over at my husbands clock and saw I had only been asleep for 20 minutes.

I continued to read then, and I managed to finish two books.

It's just that I felt so bloody stupid, and my stomach was hurting as well, it kept me awake. I would normally just go to the toilet if I have stomach ache, but the thing is at the moment I can't. The Doctor told me last week when I went about the urine infection that there are certain things I can not do, because they can lead to miscarriage, apparently, and because I've had two, then I'm classed as high risk and so definitely have to stay away from doing certain things until I'm between 16 and 18 weeks;
The first one is just plain common sense - I can not lift anything too heavy. That's a given, but from thereon in, they get a bit difficult.
I can't push my daughters pram up hill. OK, you're thinking, not too bad. It is when I live in the middle of the bloody Penines though, and our flat is at the bottom of several rather steep hills.
I am not allowed to vac up. Again, you're thinking great, get the hubby to do it. But the problem is, I have to nag him to vac up once a week as it is. I would ideally like the carpet to be vacced every other day.
I am not allowed to get constipated. How the hell can I NOT get constipated. I eat fruit and veg, but sometimes... you know... And it's not as though I can take anything to STOP me from getting constipated, with being bloody pregnant. And that's why my stomach is hurting so much this morning, because I am terrified of bloody pushing!
And the big one now, I am not allowed to have sex. Apparently the strain on my stomach would be too much.

Don't get me wrong, I respect my Doctor, even if she is slightly crazy, and totally computer fearing (she always seems to loose my page when I go, and she can never print out the prescriptions). I think she might be Hindu because she has a bind hi on her forehead, but last time I went she shouted a very Christian swear word at the computer just as she lost my page. It made me laugh to be honest.

So not only is my poor husband having to cope with the outrageous bursts of hormones, but he is also having to do housework and have no sex. Do you see why I am beginning to feel so sorry for him?

I finally have my midwife appointment, next Wednesday at noon. My boss is going to love me for that, but it's tough I suppose. He's got to get on with it, and realise that my baby comes first. Not work.

Ha! Hormones!!

To be perfectly honest, I've started this Blog with a bit of a lie. It isn't my second pregnancy, it's my definite third and possible forth. I had a miscarriage a few years ago, and a possible one in April this year, and I have a beautiful 19 month old daughter, but more of that later.

Every one always tells me that it will be easier now that I have a child already, and that I will know when there's something wrong with the pregnancy, or even when I'm being irrational, but to be perfectly honest I don't.

I've just had an awful argument with my husband all because he left me asleep on the sofa while he watched the England match, and didn't wake me up. I think I was annoyed because of having a bad back, and he knows full well that it makes it worse when I sleep on the sofa, but it still didn't mean that I should have shouted at him like I did. I was also in a bad mood because I had been at my mums all day. I'm signed off work for a pregnancy related infection, and my little girl can be very hard work, so I went to mums for a bit of support. Not that I got any. I ended up running around after her and my daughter the whole time. And then I find an email that she sent to her friend in America berating me for her apparently waiting on me hand and foot and treating the pregnancy like an illness.

That annoyed me just ever so slightly.

Let me explain. The pregnancy I had with my daughter was very difficult, and painful, and very nearly tragic. I bled early on on several occasions, I couldn't pee for a month, and the Braxton hicks!!! Well, I was threatening to sue all the magazines that said they weren't painful because they bloody well are!! She was born a month early, by emergency C-Section because her heart kept stopping, she only weighed 4lbs, and was whisked off to the Special Care Baby Unit, so I didn't even get to hold her. I was also a pre-aclampsia risk. I won't harp on about it, but it was not an enjoyable pregnancy.

Neither is this one so far. I have already got a bloody water infection, which incidentally, is not only causing me to pee every five minutes or so, but is also bloody painful. I don't even know how far gone I am yet, or the due date, but I have already got a bump and have already had to start wearing maternity jeans because my normal Levi's are digging in painfully. So when I saw that email my mum had sent, I just thought, 'right, no more bloody prisoners. I have had enough.' Hence the row with my husband this evening for leaving me on the sofa.

I've been sat up all night reading as a result, with my husband lying at the side of me looking like a wounded war hound. The only sounds I could hear was the sound of himself and my daughter snoring. I think that's why I decided to up sticks and start typing. After crying for about half an hour at the side of my daughters cot. It's ridiculous. The row didn't even mean anything, but now I'm questioning am I really happy? Is this what I really want? To live in a ramshackle flat with extortionate rent and cope on little money (my husband and I although we both work full time, and have College Educations have got Crap Jobs)?

I think it's just the hormones. I hope it's just the hormones. I hate the bloody hormones.

Last time I was pregnant, I went through stages of being apoletic either with rage, histerics or immense sadness. It could only be eased by eating hundreds of Chocolate mini rolls. Needless to say I put on tons of weight. I hope to all the Gods that people have ever believed in that it doesn't happen this time, although to be honest, it already looks too late.

I feel so sorry for my husband...