Mini Holiday

I’ve been in hospital for three nights now in preparation for the c section, whenever that ends up happening. And it’s been good.  I get food delivered to my room (and it’s good food), I can nap whenever I want and I have no responsibilities. I’m enjoying it while it lasts. 

Nachos! Hospital food is not bad!

I found out a few weeks ago I’d be coming in for steroid injections and monitoring as the injections can wreck havok with blood sugars. And for me it did. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 29 weeks and at 33 I had to start taking slow release insulin. Since being in hospital I’ve had to also take quick release before meals so I’m starting to feel like a bit of a pin cushion! 

First chance I’ve had to read in over two years!

It hasn’t been all great though. I’ve had blood sugar lows due to meals coming later than expected which have made me faint and nauseous. I’ve been harvesting colostrum for when the twins are born and was getting good results at home, but the steroids have slowed down production and then one of the midwives misplaced the 0.3 mls I’d managed to get which was heartbreaking as that stuff is liquid gold.

My wee man usually falls asleep before he gets here for visits but I still get sleepy cuddles

I also get daily CTG monitoring which is tiring because at least one of the twins won’t stay still during the sessions and they end up taking an hour and a half instead of 20 minutes. It’s super exciting and reassuring that they are so active, but over an hour being unable to move with my belly covered in jelly and being prodded with sensors is exhausting.

Could this be our last photo as a family of three?

I still don’t know when the twins will be born, but I’m ready. It’s a strange kind of ready, because I can’t actually fathom having two more babies let alone one, but I miss my bloke folk terribly and I’m definitely ready to not be pregnant anymore. This pregnancy has been very tough on me and as much as I am grateful for the ability to reproduce I am also grateful that I will not be doing it again. 

Hopefully my next post will be an announcement post! 

Smiles and Sunshine



I’m Not Ashamed Of My Body

It’s been a month since my son was born. By societies standards that means I should have lost all my pregnancy weight by now, or at least be well on the way to losing it.

Well I say, screw that!

For the first time in my life I can honestly say I don’t give a crap about what I look like.


I am overweight. I have massive love handles on my hips that stick out like a sore thumb and it’s hard to determine where my hips stop and my belly begins. I have dips and ridges all the way up.

My stomach is large, squishy and saggy. It hangs over my thighs so you can barely see that I’m wearing underwear. I have yet to see my c section scar, but the bandage covering it is hidden by the saggy stomach and due to the skin below my belly button still being numb I don’t like to lift it up to have a look, it just feels too weird.

I have large wriggly purple, pink and translucent stretch marks all over my belly that spread to my hips as well. My belly button has changed shape and depth and is also a lot darker in colour than it used to be.

My breasts are huge and change in size regularly due to breast feeding. Sometimes they sag, sometimes they’re firm and perky. They’re usually dramatically uneven in size especially just after my son has had a feed and despite having had several professional bra fittings I can’t find a bra that they sit right in all day.

I have more than one chin, saggy upper arms, thick thighs and chunky calves. My bum is very large, round and gravity defying. Despite my large frame it’s out of proportion with the rest of my body and makes clothing selections harder because not all pants fit over my hips and bum.

In spite of this, I love my body.

It has done amazing things. Over the course of nine months, it grew and nurtured a perfect baby boy. It changed in size and shape to accommodate him and mere days after he was born it started reverting back to it’s regular shape. Now my body is still working to nurture my baby, producing milk 24-7 so that he can grow and thrive. Plus being a Mum is exhausting, I’m exceeding my 10,000 steps a day just looking after him so it’s not like I’m not active.


Don’t get me wrong, I do intend to lose the extra weight, but not because I want to ‘look better.’ I want to be healthy and fit for my son so that I can keep up with him and take care of him in the best possible way.

I have put my body through years of torture. Drinking too much alcohol, smoking for far too many years, crash diets and years of eating nothing but junk food, not listening to it when it needed rest, extended stagnant periods and I felt hatred towards it all that time. I’ve plied it with myriads of prescription medications to combat all the years of mistreatment I gave it, which in turn gave me other complications to deal with.

I rejected my body, both mentally and physically for years, yet it stood by me, kept me alive and now has given me a son who hopefully I can teach body positivity to at a young age so that he will treat his better, but also so that he will treat everyone equally and not discriminate against size. It’s time to focus on the important things in life which is to enjoy the time I have and not spend my days worrying about the skin I’m in.

Smiles and Sunshine

Quiet Minds Radio Interview; My Pregnancy And Mental Health

Some of you who have been reading my blog for a while might remember about a year ago I did a radio interview for Quiet Minds on Plains FM about my elimination diet and blog and the positive effect they both had on my mental and physical health, the interview you can find here.

A couple of weeks before my son was born I did another interview with them, this time on my mental health during my pregnancy. Again I was nervous, especially this time since the person interviewing me was Zombie himself, but as usual I shouldn’t have worried. The interview flew by and was casual like a normal conversation. Plus we did the whole thing in one take which Zombie mentioned doesn’t happen very often.

Since our son was born we’ve done a follow up interview regarding the anxiety I felt regarding the c section and first few weeks of being a mother, which will air in a few weeks time.


In the meantime, you can find the podcast for the before birth interview here. The interview is just over 25 minutes long so make sure you’ve got time for the whole thing if you want to listen to it. I hope you enjoy it.

Smiles and Sunshine

48 Hours, 48 Emotions

Well, maybe not 48 different emotions, but the hours surrounding either side of my son’s birth were an absolute whirlwind of emotions; good, bad and some downright disturbing.  I’ve never cried so much, both happy and sad tears.  At one point I wondered if I had any tears left!

It started Tuesday morning, with annoyance when my alarm went off.  I hadn’t slept well (for months) and the reason I had to get up was one I wasn’t interested in: my next appointment with the obstetrician, plus another growth scan.  I was positive that they were going to bully me into have a caesarean.

While waiting for the scan I felt nervous.  The last scan, two weeks earlier, had shown baby was over 9 pounds.  While they were calculating the weight I felt dismayed.  At a guessed weight of 11.9 pounds I knew what had to be done.  I didn’t want to do it though.

The only way to describe the way I felt in the wait between the scan and my appointment was gutted, but by the time my name was called I was feeling defiant.  In the 40 minute wait I’d decided that I knew better and that I could still go with my planned natural birth.  But after a few minutes of being in the appointment and actually having my options explained to me and all the risks outlined, I felt defeated.  I was scared and angry, but after hearing that they might have to break my babies collarbone on the way out to avoid brain damage, it was clear to me that I needed to have the c-section.  Then when I asked when the surgery would be performed, only to be told some time the following week, I felt anxious.  What if I went into labour before then and had to have an emergency c-section?  Those are riskier and also a lot more traumatic!

I went home feeling deflated.  My world had been turned upside down.  I was petrified of having surgery, worried for my babies wellbeing and felt guilty that this was somehow my fault.  Luckily I had a scheduled visit from my peer support worker who helped me process the emotions until I was feeling ‘normal’ again.  Then I was shocked when I got a call to say that my situation had been deemed acute.  My c-section would be the following day.

I picked Zombie up from work to let him know.  He was excited, but I felt stressed, I had so many things to do before the baby came and suddenly I had less than 24 hours to do it (I was confused, I didn’t have much to do aside from pack a bag and take a pre-op blood test).  The rest of the night was spent feeling distracted.  I felt vulnerable and unprepared.  I should have been excited but I was too frightened.

I slept solidly and woke up feeling grateful for a good nights sleep.  I remember standing in the shower and feeling perplexed; I’d suddenly changed my mind from thinking we were having a girl to having a boy.  Once out of the shower, I felt rushed as the clock ticked down until Mum arrived to take us to the hospital.

On the ride to the hospital I felt numb.  It was really happening.  I remained numb until it was time to get changed then felt embarrassed.  I had to be shaved in front of several people and I was wearing a gown that didn’t have a back.

On the walk down to the theatre and I felt absolute fear.  I concentrated on my breathing, deep breath in, long breath out.  Once we were in the theatre I felt surprised that the room was so massive.  Nervousness set in the second I sat down to get the spinal block injection as that was the part I was dreading the most.  It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, the worst part was the anaesthetist pushing on my spine to feel where to put the injection.

I continued my deep breathing exercises as they helped me lie down and set everything up to begin the surgery.  I felt thankful when they put a sheet up so that I couldn’t see then alarmed and puzzled because I felt like I couldn’t breathe, yet I could hear my breaths coming out slow and steady and I was shivering even though the room was warm.  The anaesthetist assured me that it was just a side effect of the spinal block and that my stats were fine and I began to feel calm.

While I couldn’t feel any pain, I could feel my body moving around with the surgeons activity.  I was aware that I had feet and legs etc, but I couldn’t move them.  I was paralysed.  It was incredibly disconcerting.  Zombie was by my side, talking to me soothingly, telling me how well I was doing and asking if it would be alright if he could have a look.  I told him it was fine and my midwife came to sit with me while he moved round to check out my insides.  It was at this point that I felt disgust as I could smell my skin burning as they cauterized it.

Zombie came back and I felt impatient.  I was no longer upset or scared and I felt a sense of longing for my baby to arrive.  Zombie stood up again to watch our baby make their appearance and caught his first glimpse just as baby was pulled out of me.  He asked me if I wanted to know the sex and I cried tears of elation when he told me we had boy, although I maintain that he could said we had an elephant and I would have been just as happy.


I could hear our boy crying as the neo-natal team checked him over and Zombie took lots of photos.  I felt spaced out, the whole situation didn’t feel real.  Then they brought my son to me for the first time and I cried happy tears again. I was disappointed when they told me that I wouldn’t be able to have skin to skin with him as he was too heavy and I would struggle to breathe. I was still crying happy tears when they moved me onto another bed and on my side and wheeled me into the recovery room.

They then helped me feed my son for the first time and I was relieved when he latched on immediately.  I was able to have skin to skin with him at this point as well but I felt a little deflated by it as I couldn’t feel my body to enjoy it.  I was only allowed one visitor at a time in the recovery room so Zombie went back to the waiting area and let Mum come in to visit.  As she walked in I asked if she wanted to meet her Grandson and her face just lit up with surprise;  She also thought he was going to be a girl.  I took some photos of Mum holding our boy before she left for Zombie to come back.

I was monitored for a while and felt proud that my stats were fine and that I was quickly regaining feeling in my legs.  It wasn’t long before I was wheeled up to my room and I suddenly realised just how hungry I was and felt disappointed when I realised I’d missed lunch.  Then I felt regret that I was more focused on myself than my son.  The rest of the day is a bit of a blur, Mum and Zombie took turns to cuddle my newborn, midwives came in and out to check on us and I felt comforted when both of our checks were always clear.  I cried a lot of happy tears regularly for the rest of the day watching how beautiful Zombie and my boy were together.


I felt self-concious when the hospital aides got me up for a shower, but only because the shower seat gave way beneath me while I was sitting on it and my first thought was ‘I didn’t realise I was so heavy!’ Luckily I wasn’t hurt, the aide heard the seat falling and grabbed me before I could hit the ground and I was able to laugh about it right away.

After Mum and Zombie left, despite the fact that I had help at the touch of a button, I felt vulnerable.  l lay on the bed, staring through the clear bassinet at this tiny human who was completely dependent on me and felt paranoid that I hadn’t bonded with him and concerned that I was going to do a terrible job.  I was also starving, but they wouldn’t let me eat because I hadn’t been able to keep anything down after dinner.  I wanted to sleep, but I was uneasy that he would stop breathing if I did.

After a while I nodded off but I slept so lightly that I woke up to every single noise he made.  I was filled with awe at the how cute they were, but then I realised that he was choking.  Absolute panic set in as I tried to move him onto his side, but I couldn’t move well and he was swaddled so tightly that I couldn’t move him either.  I had a brief moment of clarity when I realised I needed to hit the panic button and almost instantly a bunch of midwives came rushing into the room.  I sputtered out that he was choking and they quickly sorted him out, but I was so upset that I burst into the first lot of tears that wasn’t happy tears that day.  I had been convinced that he was dying, but as it turned out it was just mucous in his lungs which c-section babies don’t get pushed out of them during the birthing process.

At this stage I was relieved again, because I realised how terrified I had been of losing him, that it absolutely meant that even if I hadn’t bonded with him yet, that I had fallen in love with him cared about him deeply and that was what was important.  I didn’t sleep again that night, worried that he would end up vomiting again, but he didn’t until the next morning when Zombie was changing him and I found that I was a lot more level-headed the second time around.


In the last two weeks since the birth of my son, the rollercoaster of emotions has shown no sign of slowing down and I don’t expect it to any time soon, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.  I have my little family and I couldn’t be happier.

Smiles and Sunshine


Minor Complications, Major Stress

Today I did practically nothing.  It was a low day.  I made a few jokes on Facebook to try and make myself feel better, but the stress of the last two weeks since finishing up at work hit me emotionally like a tonne of bricks and left me feeling drained. I felt like the best thing for me was to just sit, nap, rest, just do nothing.  So I did. I didn’t even put pants on until around 2pm and only because I was cold.  It was nice.  It was also the first day since going on maternity leave that I haven’t had a million things to do.

Maybe it’s just Murphy’s Law, but I’m at the pointy end of the pregnancy now, it’s time to be sitting around waiting, but I haven’t had much chance to.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done a lot of sitting around, I don’t have a choice, some mornings a shower tires me out.  I’m carrying a lot of extra weight (as you can see from my awesome maternity shoot photo below) and definitely need to take lots of breaks.  So I do.  But I’ve also had a lot of unexpected issues since leaving work which has meant less quality time with the couch than I’ve wanted.

I got jerked around with the car seat which took a couple of days and extra stress to sort out.  I’ve had to rush around gathering the last minute things I need before baby arrives and for some reason I’ve gotten fussier about what I’ll settle for which is unnecessary stress I’ve been putting on myself.  I’ve been freaking out about how tidy the house is (even though it doesn’t matter) and I’ve had some last minute minor complications with the pregnancy that both Anxiety and medical professionals have blown out of proportion. I’m finding it much more difficult than usual to remain positive and upbeat. I haven’t given up though and that’s what’s important.

I’ve had to go for last minute scans and blood tests, a last minute glucose tolerance test and even an appointment with an obstetrician since leaving work and I’ll have another one next week.  At 38 weeks I was diagnosed with Polyhydramnios, which means that I have excess amniotic fluid.  There are many different reasons why this happens, the most common seems to be larger babies or gestational diabetes.  Based on the scan and blood tests, I have a large baby (not unsurprising as Zombie and I were both very large babies) and I do not have gestational diabetes.

I freaked out when my midwife told me about the Polyhydramnios.  I had a friend who had the same condition in her pregnancy and she had quite a difficult time at the birth.  Of course she had other complications as well which were more of a contributing factor, but as soon as my midwife said excess fluid, Anxiety took over and wouldn’t let me think clearly for a while.  All I could think was ‘I’ve had a textbook pregnancy, no issues aside from low iron and it’s turned to shit at the end.’

My midwife came around the next day and explained to me that I was only borderline with my excess fluid.  1cm to be exact.  If I lived in another country, I would even be considered 3cm under.  We are just a little more cautious here.  We discussed everything, she answered all my questions and I felt better.  I can no longer go to the hospital I wanted to for the birth anymore, but I’ll be in good hands, so it’s not the end of the world.  I also spoke to my friend about it, who reminded me that she had so many  other complications as well and I was able to get a handle over Anxiety after that.

She referred me to an obstetrician just to be on the safe side, but said that it was just a precaution.  At the last minute they decided they wanted another glucose tolerance test done, so on Monday morning I was rushed off for another one, with good results.  No gestational diabetes.  The following day I went to the obstetrician appointment in good spirits, thinking that everything was fine.

I have to say that was the weirdest medical appointment I’ve ever been to, even weirder than the eczema appointment I went to years ago where the doctor spent most of the appointment rushing back and forth between the room and his car which was illegally parked.  I was sitting right next to the obstetrician and yet I could barely hear her she was so softly spoken.  She spent 2o minutes telling me about gestational diabetes and then told me that because I didn’t have it that I had nothing to worry about and they would be sending me on my way.  She did a brief feel of my belly and then said she was going to talk to her boss.  I was left alone for ten minutes while she did this, wondering why I’d even needed to leave the house that day.

When she returned, she asked me if I drank fizzy drink at all.  I told her that in the last couple of months I have drank some each day, but not in ridiculous amounts.  I wouldn’t go as far as saying it’s been a craving, but it has been a lot more appealing than water for the last little while.  She then told me that I might still have gestational diabetes because of that and that I needed a blood test and to come back in a weeks time to discuss c-sections.


That was an extreme bounce from, you’re fine, we’ll leave you to it, to all of a sudden I was probably going to have to have a c-section, all without any tests done and just what seemed like an in passing question about soft drink.  I was confused, stunned and instantly started freaking out.  That was the end of the appointment, so I went to get my blood test and then sat in the car and cried.  A lot.  I had no idea what was going on and I was freaking out on a major scale.  I was also so confused because if I suddenly really did need a c-section then why were they being so vague and treating it with a lack of urgency?  I was so upset I ended up driving straight to MHAPs and managed to squeeze in an emergency peer support session.  Luckily it was with a woman who had had two c-sections in the past, which helped immensely.

After I’d calmed down I spoke to my midwife.  She was confused too, especially since the blood test they ordered was one she had done on me several times throughout the pregnancy, the last one being two weeks ago.  She promised to get to the bottom of it, which proved quite a difficult task.  She just couldn’t seem to get anyone to return her calls even though as the person who had referred me she should have been sent the notes after the appointment anyway.  It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember the obstetricians name.

Today I got an urgent courier sent to me, with another ultrasound appointment notification.  Nobody had told me this would happen, so I called my midwife and let her know.  Luckily the letter had the doctors name on it, so she was finally able to get some information.  She still isn’t sure why they are redoing all the tests she has already done, but once they have all the information they are going to sit down with me and discuss my options for the birth.  I may be induced early, they might recommend a c-section as an option, or they might let things pan out naturally anyway.  My midwife has agreed to come with me so that they don’t try to confuse me again and has told me that unless it is in the best interests of myself and the baby that I do not have to agree to a c-section if I don’t want to and she will be there to help me make any decisions.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not against c-sections in any way.  I know that they can be life saving and that in many circumstances the best option for everyone involved, I just personally only want to have one if it is for one of these reasons instead of just as a precaution.  I also feel like the whole situation could have been handled better instead of putting a heavily pregnant woman who is already emotionally unstable due to the hormones and her mental state under unnecessary stress by being so vague about the situation.  I am just so grateful to my midwife who I trust and has both mine and the babies best interests at heart.


The appointment is next Tuesday, which feels like a lifetime away, but I’m no longer nervous about it.  I’m still hoping for a natural birth, I’m really hoping for it to be any day now (so is Zombie, he is even more excited than me about our impending arrival), because I just want to meet my little one and begin my journey as a mother.  I definitely could have done without these last minute issues, but at the same time I’ve been incredibly lucky throughout the rest of my pregnancy having had little to no issues at all.  But, hopefully next time I blog it will be to announce that I have a son or a daughter and that everything went well.

Smiles and Sunshine


Pregnancy Woes: The Public Toilet

Ugh.  Public toilets.  I’m not a fan and never have been.  They smell, you never know what state you will find them in and just the thought of how many people have sat on the seat between cleaning is enough to make me feel icky inside.  I genuinely would rather pop a squat somewhere than use a public toilet.  And I have (well hidden of course and only for number ones).

Luckily, for most of my life I’ve had a bladder of steel and managed to avoid using them much.  There was the occasional time I had no choice (especially when out drinking although I didn’t seem to mind them as much whilst under the influence), but I could usually rely on my bladder to get me home without having to even think about using a public toilet.

Then along came pregnancy.  Yes, I wanted to be pregnant, but the constant need to pee wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

My bladder went from strong to weak within moments of discovering I was pregnant.  Not exaggerating.  Gone were the days when a pit stop on my lunch break at work would suffice, suddenly it was every time I stood up, every time I looked at water, sometimes even every time I shut the bathroom door after using it was enough to trigger the need to go again.  The only time I didn’t need to go was when I was asleep, but for most of the first trimester I felt like I was spending at least a third of my day on the toilet.  It let up a little during the second trimester, but came back in full force once I hit the third.

Public toilets are necessary.  We’ve all got to go sometimes and when we’re out and about it’s nice to know that most places offer us a place to relieve ourselves.  They’re usually far enough away from the action of the mall or wherever we may be that the people who aren’t using them don’t have to be bothered by them either and I’m sure everyone can agree that it’s much better than business being attended to on the side of the road in broad daylight for everyone to see.

But they’re disgusting!

It’s actually ridiculous.  I’m over 39 weeks pregnant and can still make it through most nights without needing to get up for the bathroom (no idea how), yet as soon as we leave the house, BAM!  I need to go.  Even if I’ve just been.  It’s like my bladder has developed some sort of vendetta against me and knows exactly when I’ll have no option but to use public facilities.  I imagine it sitting there laughing at me while I try not to think about what I have to do.  I wasn’t happy about it, but I figured that I’d gotten myself into the situation so it was in my best interests to suck it up and just deal with it.

But I had no idea how difficult it would be.

Let’s start with the smell.  Pregnancy heightens the sense of smell.  I can smell chocolate and other noms a mile away these days, but, I can also smell yuck from a great distance.  This makes approaching the toilets the first challenge in a line of many.  Some are worse than others, but they’re all bad no matter how recently they’ve been cleaned.  It’s a mixture of human waste, sweat, bleach, perfume and air freshener type fragrances mixed together on a grand scale unleashing the biggest oxymoron of an assault on the nostrils.  Seriously, putrid and overly sweet at the same time is not a good mix.

Then there’s the fact that you don’t know what state you are going to find the cubicle in.  I avoid cubicles with closed lids at all costs.  I’ll wait longer if I have to.  In my experience, those are unflushed or have skid marks a boy racer would be proud to make with his car.  I don’t want to see other peoples business, I’ve a delicate stomach since becoming pregnant and if the smell hasn’t made me gag then an unflushed toilet will.  Unfortunately the open lid toilets often aren’t any better, but at least I don’t have to touch them to find out.

The floors are always wet.  I don’t know if this is from women who can’t aim (not even sure if that’s a thing), from the over zealous toilets that spurt water far and wide when they flush, or just from bad wiping etiquette.  They’re just never dry and it’s not right.  Add dropped toilet paper that people have munched into a pulp as they’ve walked across into that mix and you have quite the eyeful of disgusting to be contending with.  And this is in public toilets that get a high level of cleaner attention.  Although that is because they get a high level of public use.

I’ve learned to live with these things.  There is nothing I can do about it, complaining about it won’t change anything (although I am enjoying this rant). I just need to go in, wipe the seat if necessary do my business and get out as quickly as possible.

But my biggest issue with public toilets is that that so many of them are just not designed to accommodate the bump!  So many of them have a tiny gap between the edge of the door and the toilet seat during the closing process.  So small that I’ve had to contort my body whilst gripping the door for stability and still putting enough pressure on it to get it closed at times.  Pregnant women do not have the strength for this, it’s hard enough for us to get up off the couch let alone limbo our way over a public toilet seat just to garner some privacy.  The process is exhausting and results in a much needed rest period before the relief process can begin, all the while trying not to throw up from the smell and the state of the facility.

The sinks are usually tolerable, water everywhere but most of them have touchless taps these days which I must give high praise to whoever came up with that idea, they are just wonderful, so I can quickly wash my hands and get on to the only part of the experience that I enjoy, the time to GTFO!


I’ve heard that this bladder weakness will be with me for life now but even if it’s not, I’m pretty certain that I’ll have a toddler who will need to use a public toilet the second we arrive anywhere and then again just before we leave for good measure.  I’ve accepted that public toilets are now an inevitable part of my life.  I just don’t have to like it.

Smiles and Sunshine


The Final Stretch

So it’s been over two weeks since I last wrote a post, which is very unlike me.  I’ve barely written at all which is not ideal especially with the course I’m doing.  I’ve just had so much on both mentally and physically that it’s just been easier to completely blob when I do get a chance to sit down, which is what I should be doing at nearly 39 weeks pregnant anyway.

I’ve finished up at work now.  It was the strangest feeling to leave work last Friday, knowing that I wouldn’t be going back until much later in the year.  I managed to get through the last two weeks after my freak out week really well, but I have to admit it got harder each day just due to my tiredness.  My boss was really cool and set me up with a spare computer in an office by myself so all I really had to do was potter around with a couple of small projects and take any calls from the new guy if he needed help, instead of being amongst the action and getting myself overwhelmed again.

I’m only three days into my maternity leave and I’d like to say that I’ve been relaxing, but unfortunately I can’t, unless you count sleeping in, which I kinda don’t since I don’t really sleep much at night anymore!  My plan was to get everything that still had to be done finished on Monday, which was the car seat installation and the finishing touches on the babies area, but of course it didn’t happen.  The place I was told would sort the car seat didn’t tell me that they closed at 1.30 on Mondays and I ended up spending the afternoon selling my old car and catching up with a friend instead of sorting the babies things.  Having said that, it’s good to finally be rid of the old car and seeing my friend forced me to sit down for a few hours which was really nice.

So Tuesday became the get things finished day, except of course that didn’t eventuate either.  The place that was supposed to do the car seat installation apparently doesn’t do the installation part, just checks it’s installed properly, despite telling me they would install it when I rang them.  They weren’t rude, but they were incredibly unhelpful, told me it was going to cost around $200 and that I’d have to sort it myself with a mechanic.  Luckily I have friends in the car industry who pointed me in the right direction and I managed to get the car seat ready to go today, for only $50, by a seatbelt company that I would absolutely recommend to anyone.  They were very friendly both on the phone and in the shop, incredibly helpful and even gave me a discount because apparently I had an easy seat and an easy car to deal with.  I felt bad and wanted to pay the extra $10 but they wouldn’t hear of it!

As well as getting the car seat sorted today, I also had a growth scan as at my last midwife visit she was a little surprised at how much the little one had grown in the six days since my previous appointment.  The really cool part about this was I got to see my babies face for the first time!  It is so cute and I am absolutely in love (like I wasn’t already).  Baby wouldn’t stop moving the entire time which made the scan difficult, the complete opposite issue of the 20 week scan, but it’s so reassuring to have such an active baby that I don’t mind at all.  Based on the scan they are saying that baby is already 9.5 pound and I still have over a week until my due date, however a lot of people have said that the scans aren’t always accurate.  I’m not too worried anyway, it’s gotta come out somehow and I just can’t wait to meet the little one!


I’d like to say that I’ll be resting up tomorrow, but no, I still have to put babies things away and tidy the house a little (this nesting thing makes me feel like I have to spend every second I’m at home cleaning which I am not a fan of!)  I’ve got a pregnancy photo shoot and I’m also doing another radio interview like the one I did last year on mental health, this year on mental illness and pregnancy.  But Friday is clear plus Zombie is not working that day so I’m sure he will force me to spend the day on the couch.  I have no plans to object!

Smiles and Sunshine