The Mummy Diaries: pregnancy week 36

The Mummy Diaries: pregnancy week 36

by Emma Hargan
article from Monday 28, May, 2018

IT’S BEEN a week of ranting and raving. Definitely more ups than downs but with my pregnancy nearing the end, it’s getting tougher mentally and physically, then add a toddler into the mix and what have you got? A very tired, cranky mummy!!

It’s been a scorcher of a week. Under ‘normal’ circumstances, I would be loving the warm weather and enjoying the fact we can sit out in the sun, having picnics in the back garden, messing about in the paddling pool and soaking up a bit of a tan. 

After weeks of nagging at my husband to make the garden ‘Jamie proof’, he has spent his evenings and weekends putting up a new fence and gate so our little escapee couldn’t make a break for it. Just so James didn’t think this was one of my ‘one minute wonders’, Jamie and I have spent every waking hour out in the garden playing. Sounds good right?

All I can say is that I’m so glad Jamie isn’t seeing the nurse any time soon. Being a typical wee boy and investigating everything, he is top-to-toe in bruises, scrapes and is even sporting a lovely black eye, which he managed to do while running into the clothes pole. 

And me? Well my great ideas of chilling in the garden and watching Jamie potter about and play happily have been replaced with frantically running about after him so he doesn’t head-butt the side of the house, drown in an inch of water in his paddling pool or decide to ‘do a Superman’ off the back door step - again! 

Just generally trying to keep him alive until James gets home is my goal. All of this isn’t easy when you are 36 weeks pregnant and the only items of maternity clothes that now fit are a pair of skinny jeans which started off as having an ‘over the bump’ waistband but are now only reaching half way over and are digging in to places I never thought possible! I have to get undressed in the bathroom, as I look like a turtle that’s rolled over onto its back trying to get up again – while trying to peel off a pair of skin tight jeans – not a good look in front of anyone!

That’s the ups for the week. Now for the downs…

After a stressful day of roasting weather, feeling uncomfortable and running about after the wee man, James though it would be a good idea to put One Born Every Minute on the telly and watch the ‘miracles’ of babies being born. All I can say is the episode we watched made a Quentin Tarantino movie look like a Walt Disney production. If it’s true what they say about the baby being able to hear everything from inside the stomach, then I’m pretty sure it’s first word is going to be f##k! To say I went to bed slightly traumatised that night was an understatement. 

The following morning I got a phone call from the hospital telling me I had failed my blood glucose test. Which basically means I have a thing called Gestational Diabetes. Thankfully, it goes away after the baby is born but in the meantime, I have to now test and record my blood sugar levels seven times a day and eat a low sugar and low carb diet. Not good when my cravings include Haribo sweets and Ben and Jerry’s. After 3 hours of balling my eyes out thinking I had poisoned myself with sugar and given myself diabetes, James looked it up online and discovered it has nothing to do with diet and is hormonal. He also thought it was a good idea to make a joke and tell me, “I keep telling you pet, it’s your hormones!” Hormones and no alcohol – interact at your own risk – so naturally he spent the night in the spare room!

I made the decision to get out of the house with Jamie and head out for a bit of retail therapy. If nothing else, the shopping centre would be air conditioned and Jamie would be strapped into his pushchair so I wouldn’t have to run about after him every two seconds. That was where the perks ended. On arriving at the shopping centre, all the mother and baby car park spots were full. This would be fine, if I didn’t spot a man on his own getting out of an expensive looking Jeep as he obviously didn’t want to walk any distance to the shop! 

This meant I had to park in a regular tight space, which all you mummies will know, is a nightmare when trying to get a baby out of the back seat, into a pushchair while having a 36-week pregnant bump. Ok, first obstacle done. I arrived at the queue for the cashline and was standing in line when the women in front of me started a conversation and said, “oh wow, you can’t have long left now, you’re some size?” In my head, I had a Kill Bill movie moment where I whip kicked her in the jaw and happily watched her rolling about in agony. In reality, I just smiled and responded with “Yeah, I’m nearly there, I can’t wait now!”

After wandering around the shops and purchasing some nice new clothes for Jamie and the new baby, I was feeling less stressed and after a lovely lunch with my wee man, decided to head for the car. On returning to the car park and walking towards the car, I noticed that someone had parked so tight to mine, that I literally couldn’t walk between the two. Without a thought in my head I roared, “If I parked on the bloody moon, some total arse would park next to me!!” It was at this point I noticed there was a man sitting in the driver’s seat with the window down. Oh Jesus! I pretended I hadn’t noticed and went to walk around the other side, when he yelled, “You should of stayed in the house - mouthy cow!” and drove off. Pregnancy Tourettes kicked in again. Stress levels back up to where they were before. No alcohol, no Haribos and no ice cream.

On reflection, I’m nearly there, and I know it’ll all be worth it when I have my wee sugar baby arrived safe and sound. That’s if I don’t get beat up in any shopping centre car parks before then!

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