Saturday, 6 October 2012

Down to earth with a bump (10) - IS PREGNANCY DIFFICULT? (II)


My lack of maternal instinct worried me. I only hoped that giving up work in a few weeks would make all the difference. It would certainly help with the blatant tiredness.

This morning was a struggle after waking several times through the night. I first woke to pee, but couldn’t get out of bed to do so. Presumably the baby's position and my very full bladder were to blame. But when I went to get up, I simply couldn't. Instead I yelped with pain. 

Poor Simon, his night is also interrupted many times and I wonder how long it will be before we are in separate rooms? Then again, he does love feeling the baby kick him in the back as we fall asleep spooning.

Anyway, my needing to pee... He offered to hoist me up and out but in the time that would have taken I knew I would have already wet the bed. So I found myself in the strangest position where being on all fours featured heavily. Very heavily. When I did wee, ah, relief was mine – and maybe the baby’s too, for it shot out in several different directions. And while I am on the subject… how difficult is it to wipe these days?

Several other disturbances all eventually came to a head at 4am when I lay wide-awake feeling baby wriggle and stretch. It struck me how baby must be getting longer for it seemed to find pockets of space in my womb that had previously lain untouched. Like a pita bread which gently unsticks and opens up, a foot or a hand would make its way in to new territory. This particular time it felt like an arm was curling right around my waist.

Eventually at 6am when Simon left for work, I fell in to a deep sleep. He rang at 7.30 and was pleased that I’d managed to drop off again. I was far too groggy to agree. And then I realised I was against the clock. A quick shower, food and clothes, and yey, I was almost out the door. I had to leave now if I was to make my train. Coat on. Door open. I sneezed. I shouted. Too late, my knickers were already wet.

I do my kegal's. My pelvic floor isn’t that bad? Is it? I felt utterly hopeless and not for the first time I thought to myself, wouldn't it be nice to own MY body again.

Meanwhile, I changed my underwear and rushed (sort of) to the station. Red faced, panting and looking as if I was in labour, I studied the arrival/departure board only to see that my train had been cancelled. I waited, sat sturdy on the now very busy platform, thinking about how utterly unfair life could be at times. Get over it Emma. I started to think about the parentcraft class Simon and I would attend that evening. What on earth would that bring? 

Hopefully, other like-minded fat women, who pissed in their pants when they sneezed.