The amazing (disgusting) pregnant body

4 Nov

Anyone heard of pregnancy diarrhoea? Anyone? Because it appears that I have just that, from the hours of midnight to 6am. Alongside the more common nausea, of course, because it’s always more fun to be kept guessing as to which end you need to hover over the toilet bowl.

I’m almost seven weeks now, a week past the ultrasound where we finally got to see the little Pork Chop and his/her fluttering heartbeat. While I was looking forward to an eight week scan to put my mind at ease, The Boy has cut me off from all extra ultrasounds unless it looks like something is going wrong. He’s right, of course – I can’t go on scanning for this and that every time I feel a twinge. I know it’s only going to create a bad habit but I honestly don’t know how I’m going to last another five weeks before finding out if the little dude is still OK. Especially when I feel so utterly disgusting and unwell. Surely something horrible is happening and I don’t even know it.

Anyway, so far I’ve discovered that being pregnant is actually kinda gross. Some of the more disgusting things I’ve encountered include:

  • Mucous. Anything to do with it. Even the word sounds like it crawled out of some sewer, spewed forth something foaming and green, and died.
  • Discharge. Enough said. When combined with mucous in a sentence, you definitely know you’re pregnant.
  • Coldsores, a runny nose, some extra special rashes and lately, a lot of drool. I’m like a walking sack of leaking fluid. It’s not pretty.
  • Massive veins. I look like I’m pumping some serious ‘roids over here. I’ve got veins Arny would be proud of. When I flex it’s more than just a tad creepy.
  • The ongoing nausea, cramps, extreme anxiety, general overall hotness and now, of course, diarrhoea. Oh and the sore boobs which means I am forced to sleep on my back at constant threat of drowning in all that extra mucous and drool.

Clearly, I’m not one of those women that looks good pregnant. In fact, I think I’ve missed that whole excited-glowing-generally awesome stage and moved straight to frazzled-mum look. Minus the sticky handprints and screaming toddler. And the worst thing is that now, the only thing I can think about, is being pregnant. It’s awful. I need a distraction or I’m at serious risk of becoming one of those mum’s that just wants to talk about how Junior managed to do three solid poo’s today. Three!

On the topic of distractions, The Boy and I have the weekend together which is going to be lovely. I plan on spending some of his hard earned wages on finally tidying up our garden in what I know is a vain attempt to keep something alive for more than a couple of weeks. I also plan on getting Milo neutered as his relations with Pink Bunny are now only suitable for the after 9:30pm time slot. And finally, I plan on finishing a baby quilt for my friend Sarah, who has been an absolute lifesaver the past few weeks by assuring me that I am, actually, perfectly normal, and who is due to pop out her baby any day now. Oh, and one last thing – sleep. I’m planning on getting a good deal of sleep because now I have an excuse to be super lazy I figure I should enjoy it while it lasts.


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