The past week has been an odd one.
My week started off as exciting when I participated in an antenatal class about labour and birth. The midwife spoke about topics such as the different stages of birth (from the start, all the way to the birth of the placenta), the different types of pain relief available and what to do if your birth plan doesn’t go the way you planned.
I reached a point in the class where I thought to myself “oh my god is it too late to turn back?” when the midwife showed a diagram of the ‘stages of dilation.’ She compared 10cm of dilation to be the same size as a bagel. Think happy thoughts, Annest.
Although I haven’t started my birth plan yet, I’m pretty sure I know what I’d prefer, but I’ll obviously keep an open mind towards the whole thing as the little man will arrive into the world however he feels most comfortable.
On Saturday, I woke up in a slight mood, and if you follow me on Instagram, you’ll already know this by now.
I went about my day as normal. I cleaned the house, put clothes in the wash and hung them on the line for the first time this year (it was quite tragic how happy this made me). I then went to sit down, and I don’t know whether it was the hormones working tenfold, the loneliness of this lockdown or just how frustrating it is that I can’t do half as many things I could pre-pregnancy, but I broke down.
Whilst I was having this little moment, it was as if the little man knew that his mam was upset, so he started kicking and punching in a way to say “mam, I’m here, don’t get upset.” He already brightens up my days.
By Sunday, I felt stale and needed some fresh air, so I took Celyn for a walk (Mali sulked all day because I left her at home – bad mam). After the half-hour walk, my body genuinely felt like I’d walked up and down Snowdon. My legs burned, my heart rate was sky-high and I was absolutely shattered! Not to mention the fact I was desperate for a wee within a minute of walking out of the house (nightmare!). But it’s true what they say, fresh air really does make a world of difference.
I took part in another class yesterday, about breastfeeding this time. I found the class a bit overwhelming as the midwife talked about all the positive points of breastfeeding and the importance of feeding your baby naturally, whilst barely mentioning bottle feeding. Yes, it is important, but it’s also so important for the mother to feel comfortable whilst feeding her child. Myself and my brothers were bottle-fed from the get-go so I don’t have as much pressure on my shoulders to be able to follow in my mam’s footsteps to breastfeed, but other girls could come from that class and feel immense pressure to ensure that their children get breastfed and nothing else. In my eyes, it doesn’t matter how a baby is fed – FED IS BEST.
I’m down to my final week in work, and my body’s practically screaming at me to finish. A week to go until I have freedom to sleep in the day, or be able to lounge about in my jim jams. Saying that, the nesting period has hit me so my reality will probably be scrubbing skirtings and washing the little one’s clothes over and over again!
To-do list for this week:
- Celebrate Danny’s 30th birthday!!
- Survive my final week in work
- Aim for at least two exercise sessions
- STOP EATING EVERYTHING IN THE CUPBOARD