Blog From A Broad

same old, same old

I went to see the reflexologist yesterday afternoon and I'm pretty sure I started to fall asleep a few times. I kept startling myself with involuntary snoring noises, so I can only assume that was from nodding off. I came home and slept off and on for a couple of hours, feeling slightly more human than in previous days. I was even able to have a decent sized dinner as the nausea had disappeared and I was ravenously hungry.

Oh, big mistake.

I woke up at 4am with hideous, hideous heartburn and reflux. The heartburn tablets did nothing and I couldn't recline without feeling ill. I had to prop myself up with my small fort of pillows, but I couldn't get comfortable because it put pressure on the haematoma. Can't lie down or I'll hurl, can't sit up or my bum will hurt. Yay. I spent the early morning trying not to throw up and my stomach is still not right.

So, it's the toddler diet for me: eat a tiny nibble of food, get distracted and leave the table, come back to my plate and take another tiny nibble, and repeat until the meal is finished two hours later. Throw my cup and cutlery on the floor just for fun. Perhaps stick a Cheerio up my nose (note: Jack actually did this the other day - thankfully, it had gone soggy from the milk.) I can't eat much and it can't be anything too exciting, so thank the gods that I made a large batch of chicken stock two days ago. If homemade chicken soup can't make you feel better, nothing will.

On a different, slightly more humorous tangent (but you may not want to read this while you're eating), I was chatting to Dina via email yesterday about pushing during birth. She likened it to taking a huge poop, which is exactly what my midwife was telling me earlier that day. My midwife and I were talking about women who have a fear of defecating during birth, and she said "Midwives get really excited when we see poo - it means the mother is pushing properly!" Ladies, don't fear the caca.

I cannot wait to see the Google hits this site will get now.