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Diary of a Preggy Lady - The First Months

The first few months, when good intentions fly out of the window.

I read a great quote from Cherry Healey in Mother&Baby this week: “I promised myself that, for my second pregnancy, I’d step away from the Nutella, so there was only the essential weight gain to deal with after the birth. But this plan was thwarted when morning sickness kicked in and I’d have mugged my own mother for greasy food.”  Oh Cherry, I no longer feel alone.

The gap between my number one and two will be bigger than most, four and a half years to be exact, but even so it took me until last Christmas to finally find enough energy to hit the gym and loose the last remnants (I like to think of it has remnants, others would say chunks…) of baby-weight. And frankly, feeling slim and fit again felt wonderful.

This annoyed me a bit. In a way, I’d like to have stayed chunky-ish purely as a political statement – I deplore all that glossy mag rubbish about loosing your baby weight within weeks, yes that means you OK! Magazine – whose trite, unthinking headline, ‘Kate’s Post-Baby Weight Loss Regime’ was another subtle prod to women who ‘fail’ to get back to a bikini-ready body soon after birth. I mean, let’s be honest, most of us don’t have a bikini-ready body (whatever that means) in the first place.

Despite railing against all the media’s mamma weight-loss obsession, I can’t help feeling a bit sad that now, four-and-a-half-months gone my bottom is the same size as my bump.  It is a seemingly universal truth that, unless you’re physically sick constantly, the dreaded morning sickness makes you eat, and eat… and eat a bit more: even the slightest hunger pang left me queasy.  All I wanted was stodgy, sugary, nasty food. I went off veggies and had to employ the same underhand tactics that I use on my four-year old to trick my mouth into gulping down the broccoli.   It was all bizarrely hormonal as well, one pre-pregnancy minute I had the sophisticated, culinary tastes of a thirty-something woman, then as soon as I tested positive? Comfort food: fish and chips, cottage pie, chocolate – and stew, lots of stew. During one of the hottest Julys on record.

And then a miracle, at three months the sickness disappeared, along with the desire to eat various forms of c***p food.  I know I was lucky, I’ve heard horror stories from women who were physically sick every day for nine months, and my heart goes out to them.

Now I’m 18-weeks, and even the constant gnawing tiredness seems to be lifting – hurrah!  We had our first scan, a little handprint showed amongst the fuzz. I really was pregnant, this wasn’t some elaborate hormonal hoax.  At our next, we’ll find out the sex. Not for us, I’d rather wait, but for our four-year-old daughter who is very keen on a little sister. “If it’s a boy I’ll throw it in the bin,” she informed us. We may have our work cut out.

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