Pregnancy Diary | Week 26
It’s been another one of those weeks where, every time someone’s asked me how far along I am, I’ve had to stop for a few seconds and think about it, before going, “Oh yeah – 26 weeks!” Or six months, if you prefer, which is just… WOW.
I’ve been pregnant now for half a year: it simultaneously feels much, much longer than that (When I think back to those first few weeks, it feels like a whole different lifetime), and a whole lot shorter, too. Similarly, I feel like the time remaining before he’s finally here is both absolutely endless, and no time at all. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?
So, week 26 has been a pretty hectic one: Terry’s mum is still in hospital (Although doing much better than she was this time last week, thankfully), and Terry and I have both had a lot of work stuff to deal with, as well as all of the baby-planning. People tell such dire stories about life with a newborn, though, that I basically feel like once the baby is here, we’re more or less going to just slip into a weird kind of coma state, which we won’t emerge from for at least six months – or possibly not ever, if the worst of the stories are to be believed – so I’ve been doing my best to cram in as much as possible before that happens.
Here’s what we’ve been getting up to this week:
Week 26 Pregnancy Highlights
Not strictly pregnancy-related, but this week Terry and I headed into Edinburgh for our friend Gillan’s birthday party. Between Terry’s mum’s illness, plus all of the pregnancy and work-related stuff we’ve had on our plates recently, this was actually the first time we’d managed to catch up with some of our friends since announcing the pregnancy, so it was really great to see them all. I took the opportunity to ask a ton of questions, and it seems that very few of my friends’ feet changed size after pregnancy, and no one went bald, so PHEW, THAT’S A RELIEF.
(There’s always one in every group, though, isn’t there, and whaddya want to bet that I will be that one? That bald, big-footed one? GOD…)
Week 26 Pregnancy Symptoms
I think the only real thing of note here is the fact that my bump has reached a stage where it’s
absolutely huge starting to get a little bit… let’s just go with unwieldy here, shall we? Once I’m actually on my feet, I’m fine, and don’t really feel any different, but getting in and out of bed (or up and down from squishy sofas) has started to make me feel a bit like I’m starring in some kind of slapstick comedy, and things like tying my shoelaces (slip-on shoes are my BBFs right now, seriously…), shaving my legs or putting on things like leggings or tights is just a bit… I’ll just leave that to your imagination, actually: it’s better that way.
Oh, and I gave up on painting my toenails a few weeks ago: I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually quite glad it’s autumn now, and no one ever has to see them!
Week 26 Pregnancy Purchases / Planning
It’s been another big week on the baby planning front, so I’m just going to dive right in, and separate this one into sections again, starting with…
THINGS MY PARENTS BOUGHT:
Now that the ban has been lifted, my parents are shopping with gay abandon. There are more muslin squares. (Seriously, if you’ve been trying to buy muslin squares, but can’t find any, it’s because my mum already bought them all, soz…) There are teeny-tiny socks. There is a cloth thing for swaddling:
Also pictured: TOBY – who was released from my mum’s custody for just long enough for me to take this photo, before being whisked away again, because I’m pretty sure my mum thinks I’ll just keep him for myself. And I’m pretty sure she’s right, too.
There is this item of complete and utter cuteness:
It’s baby’s first romper suit! Or dungarees! Or whatever it is you call these things, don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about babies, other than that they’re a great excuse to buy cute things! (I know someone’s going to want to gleefully inform me that, “he’ll just throw up on it!” Or that, “babies should only wear onesies!” but… please don’t be That person…) Speaking of which:
There is Fin, the Sheep Night Light! Who is a nightlight, but also a sheep! And, OK, in fairness, my parents didn’t just randomly go out and buy a sheep nightlight (even although that’s totally the kind of thing they would do): I came across him online, instantly wanted him, and then, because my parents are awesome, the next thing I knew, there he was, sitting on my coffee table like it ain’t no thang.
Oh, and when I was speaking to my mum on the phone yesterday, I heard her say to my dad, “There’s another bag in the car: it’s the one with the pram blanket in it!” so either they’ve ALSO bought a pram blanket, or there’s something else going on there that’s just too weird to even think about. I’m guessing it’s the pram blanket, though.
THINGS AMBER AND TERRY BOUGHT:
As for Terry and I, meanwhile, we’ve been doing a bit of shopping, too, which has included:
A tiny little rocking chair! It’s a mini version of the larger rocking chair you can see behind it (We got both of them on eBay), and, OK, we DO realise the baby won’t be sitting in a rocking chair for quite some time, but … we just couldn’t resist it, and if you could, well, you’re a better person than me, and that’s a fact.
We also bought:
A large amount of wood, yay!
This is to allow us to re-fit both the closet in the nursery and the linen cupboard, so while it’s a boring-ass photo, I’m actually quite excited about it, because, well, I have an entire Pinboard dedicated mostly to the interiors of closets, and I just can’t wait to add my own to it. To move us further towards this goal, this week we sold the existing nursery closet doors on Gumtree (Because you can sell ANYTHING on Gumtree, seriously. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if one day Terry lists ME there…): they were sliding mirrored doors, and I hated them with a fiery passion, so we’re replacing them with non-sliding wooden ones, which will allow us better access to the space. When the people came to collect them, they all wished me “good luck” on the way out, and I’m honestly not sure if they meant, “good luck with the rest of the pregnancy,” or just, “good luck sorting out that absolute disaster of a room you’ve got there”.
This is the room in question, as it is right now:
It’s, er, one of those, “It has to get worse before it can get better,” situations. Apparently.
SHED MAN UPDATE:
I’m just going to sum up the current “shed man” situation with this handy gif:
So, that’s how I feel about THAT. Yes.
Week 26 Pregnancy Fears:
Again, it’ll come as no surprise to anyone to know that, the more time goes on, the more worried I get about the whole “pushing an entire person out of my body – or, alternatively, having him CUT out,” scenario. It’s … not good, folks. Basically, over the past couple of weeks, I’ve become convinced – like, absolutely 100% convinced – that, no matter which option I go for, I’m going to die in childbirth. I am so sure about this that while half of me has been really enjoying the process of getting everything ready, the other half is just all, “I hope everyone enjoys using that sheep night light and all, because I sure won’t be here to see it!” And I really, truly, think that, too: mostly around 20 minutes after I get into bed, at which point I start panicking about it all, and can’t sleep. It’s a bit of a bummer, really.
As sure as I am that I’m going to die, though (I know, I know: this post started off with cute baby clothes and a sheep-that-is-also-a-light, and now it’s ending with the literal fear of death: sorry…), there’s also a small part of my brain which is still managing to pre-occupy itself with hospital-related fears, so that’s been fun too, obviously. I know I’ve talked this to death, but a large part of my health anxiety is hospital-related, and, as I mentioned last week, my mother-in-law’s current hospitalisation has only served to confirm my worst suspicions about the place.
Right now she’s still in that communal ward, which has six beds, all crammed together, with zero privacy, and one toilet/shower between them all. It still just seems so archaic to me, and I know the maternity unit has the same set-up, so I’m getting gradually more and more freaked out by it. People keep on telling me I won’t care when the time comes, but, even if that’s true, it doesn’t really help me NOW, when there are just SO many health anxiety triggers, and I’m really scared about how I’ll cope being left alone with a new baby and absolutely no privacy. “Not very well,” is my guess (and also Terry’s guess), so that continues to be a source of anxiety, but it’s one I’m going to try to stop talking about now, because I’m even boring myself. GAH.
In an attempt to end this post on a slightly happier note, then, here’s another photo of the tiny chair: you’re welcome!