Some people are good at taking advice, using their common sense and being sensible and realistic. Others seem to learn the hard way. Sometimes I fall into the first category, but when it comes to being pregnant, I always seem to fall into the second category.
I refuse to accept that I will be slower or be able to do less.
I don’t want to accept the idea that I will be big.
I don’t want to rest more.
When I get tired or breathless I just tell myself I need to get fit and eat more carefully. I keep walking and doing the housework in a bid to get strong and I ignore when there are signs of potential trouble like swollen fingers a little too early or an inability to get up a flight of stairs without wheezing loudly.
Then I start wondering if this is right and instead of going to the Dr because I can’t get an appointment for weeks or the midwife because I don’t think she will take me seriously, I go to Dr Google and start trying to work out if there is something wrong with me.
Then when I start feeling like I am going to keel over, I can’t understand why.
After I had Darling, I was breastfeeding for about 14 months and trying really hard to lose weight, eat less, walk more throughout the same time. Eventually I saw the Doctor and explained I was extremely tired and had very sore legs despite my best efforts to get fit. He diagnosed me as deficient in Vitamin D and Iron. I had just assumed I was lazy and unfit and needed to keep pushing myself harder.
This time I am going to try really, really hard to do things differently. I am going to take a gentle stroll in my lunchtime at work. I am going to lie down for a bit after work and even elevate my feet to manage the swelling. I am going to do less housework, make everyone else do more and cook in bulk every second or third day. I’m going to stop being such a martyr and start sending hubby out to do the grocery shopping because by the time I have the shopping in I’m too tired to cook and have to really push myself – so it will have to do one or the other, but not both.
I’m also going to ask for things – something that I struggle with. At the moment that will be lots of fruit, vegetables, juice and some chocolate – the soul needs it food too. All things I usually get, but that hubby might get landed with having to find. I’m craving a particular type of carrot right now, they are organic and come in bunches with the long green tops tied together and me and Gorgeous love them, and honey melons, and Fiorelle pears which are here from South Africa right now, and those long green grapes that are sweet and slightly dry and the small crisp, bright red, sweet apples I am seeing now. Pakistani mango season is about to start too in about another month, so they will be everywhere in our neighbourhood soon. Poor hubby, his idea of getting fruit is usually picking up a couple of bowls from the £1-a-bowl stall of whatever looks ripe.
I’m not very good at taking it easy or letting go, but this time, I am really going to try and be sensible and put myself and this baby first.
I might have to start by ignoring the pile of laundry and the toothpaste Gorgeous has left smeared over half the bathroom.