It’s funny, the further along the pregnancy I get, the less I have to write about. It almost seems like I’ve reached a plateau situation. Maybe that’s just because I’m not vomiting, maybe it’s because I’m getting used to all the gripes that come with pregnancy.
How it all began: Peeing on a stick
This week’s gripe is my size. All day yesterday I found getting out of my chair difficult, and all of a sudden I’m regretting purchasing such a lovely, deep, low couch. Your Dad has to push me out of it every time I need to pee … which is a lot!
Yes, unless I’m mistaken, we’ll definitely have put on weight when we visit the doctor this week. I’ve been eating ice cream nearly daily (one of the only sweets approved by the dietician) and last weekend I took some risks on my blood sugar levels and indulged in some sweets. The levels were 0.1 over, and it was totally worth it! Hope you enjoyed it. You poor little thing, most of what you’re eating at the moment is grains, nuts, rice, beans and fruit. Not exactly fun, is it? If you’ve got any of your Gran’s side’s blood in you at all I’m sure you’ll more than make up for it later in life.
In other news, your Dad went shopping for you yesterday, completely unprompted. He came home with four little adorable dresses for you to wear. He’s clearly already besotted, or as someone put it, wrapping himself around your little finger already. It’s very sweet though. I don’t know many men who actively shop for their child without being asked to, and I think it’s lovely that your Dad does that, really lovely. Plus, he has good taste! I don’t think your Dad would make the same mistakes as mine. One day, my Dad came home very excited about a pair of shoes he bought me. They were square and I hated them. I’m not sure he’s bought me anything since!
So, it’s fewer than eight weeks now until you arrive, which is a little scary. I was looking at your Dad sleeping this morning, and wondering how our lives are going to change. For nearly 10 years it has just been the two of us, so it’s interesting to think that in two months there will be a third person in our house, demanding our attention and love. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m also nervous. I hope you’re not offended by that. I think that’s normal though – except perhaps for those people who live their lives through and for their children, but I’m just not cut out to be that kind of person, and I suspect you’ll always be grateful that I’m not.
I’m going to leave it at that today. I’m off to your cousin’s third birthday at a play centre – a preview of what my life is soon to be like I guess. Keep well, my little girl.
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