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Tuesday, 28 December 2004

gonna be a long two months



I've entered the phase of pregnancy most commonly referred to as "Okay, I've Had Enough Now". While I still maintain that I love my bump and feeling all the squirms and prods, great discomfort is now my constant companion. Backache, shoulder/neck/rib ache, pulled belly muscles when I sneeze, heartburn (back like a motherfecker), fatigue, shortness of breath, leg cramps, nausea, and endless other aches and pains plague me throughout the day and night. Most of it doesn't bother me too much, but I absolutely hate being this fatigued. It feels like I'm always on the brink of a flu and I have no energy at all. I can do a few tasks, but then I've got to sit and catch my breath. Even in my smoking days, I wasn't this feeble. Thankfully I can manage to get a relatively decent night's sleep (I can go to the loo a few times a night without actually waking up, I think) but I still need to take a nap during the day.



I had a dream the other night in which I had given birth. I remember thinking to myself that it really wasn't all that bad, but the best part is, I now don't have any pregnancy discomforts. Hurrah! Then I suddenly realised that I was at home but didn't have the baby with me, and that I must have left him at the hospital. Oopsie.



Pip got a couple of Christmas presents already, lucky little guy. His Nanna (Paul's Mum) knit him a colourful clown doll, got him a Tweety bird toy, and a collection of Winnie the Pooh books. His Uncle Russell and Auntie Debbie gave him a kit to make a plaster cast of his tiny toes. Lots of our Christmas cards were written out to me, Paul, and Pip. Everyone has advised us to enjoy our last quiet Christmas, but to be honest, I cannot wait until Pip gets old enough to really enjoy it. I am so looking forwards to leaving out snacks for Santa and seeing his face when he tears into his presents on Christmas morning. I know we have at least two more Christmases to go before he gets to that stage, but I'm already eagerly anticipating it.



Eight more weeks to go, give or take. We have another midwife visit tomorrow and our NTC antenatal classes start a week tomorrow. Three and a half more weeks of work when we return in January, then we wait for the big day. Just please don't make me endure eight more weeks of heartburn.

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