Sorry, I know it's not the nicest subject but I need to vent.
1) It's an urban myth that it's just in the beginning of a pregnancy. I never had a trace of anything until after 12 weeks. I'm now fast approaching 30 weeks and it's beginning to get worse.
2) It also doesn't have to involve the act of being sick. It can just make you go through all the motions but with your efforts rewarded with nothing but a horrible tight-pulled-muscle feeling in your stomach and sides, watery eyes, the urge to pee and generally making you feel altogether crap. This process can vary from 30 seconds to about 10 minutes and is pretty unpleasant.
3) point 2 is only correct if you get the feeling first thing in the morning. Clearly there is nothing to ...erm... produce ... shall we say, as you haven't eaten for 12 hours. My third point is that 'morning sickness' is definitely not exclusive to mornings. It can spring up at any time, usually if there is a strong smell of anything vaguely unpleasant in the air.
Generally it's at rather inconvenient times, for instance, after a meal in a nice restaurant which results in you having to run to the ladies covering your mouth and, effectively, wasting the money you have just spent on a perfectly good lunch or dinner.
4) why do I never get 'morning sickness' at the weekends/when I get out of bed later than usual? Why is it only when I get up for work at around 7am that I am plagued with such torture. I'm pretty sure this has happened less than half a dozen times on a weekend or lie-in.
5) what is it about toothpaste that induces it?
6) I'm pretty sure a bloke invented it.
About Me
- Shortlass
- A first time mum at 39, trying not to let my son kill me off too soon. Busy juggling a new family, a new house and a tricky recording schedule I figured blogging would be less expensive than therapy and less embarrassing than shouting at rude and stupid people in the street/on trains/at the supermarket.
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
Now I know I'm old
In December I blogged about some 'sad' music facts
I might have made the point in that blog that I thought I was old. Now I know it's true. And I'm completely out of touch.
I said something about Flo Rida and assumed it was a woman - how many men do you know called Flo? Well guess what? Flo Rida is a bloke. I found out by accident watching Jessie J on Jonathan Ross at the weekend.
Oh the shame.
I might have made the point in that blog that I thought I was old. Now I know it's true. And I'm completely out of touch.
I said something about Flo Rida and assumed it was a woman - how many men do you know called Flo? Well guess what? Flo Rida is a bloke. I found out by accident watching Jessie J on Jonathan Ross at the weekend.
Oh the shame.
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
Gone too soon
I've been a bit quiet of late as it's tricky to blog about my usual trivial rants and thoughts right now.
On the 27th January, my 34 year old cousin lost her short, but brutal fight, with a rare cancer. After her doctor spent all summer telling her that her itching and bruising was an allergic reaction (although to what, he couldn't tell her), she was finally diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in early October. The tumour had wrapped and wound itself around blood vessels and arteries and was wedged in close to her liver causing her to have a more than passing resemblance to Marge Simpson. Given the type and severity, she was told it was inoperable.
Most people would have crumbled at the prospect of leaving two young children motherless but not her. She asked all the right questions and discovered that they could drain the jaundice on her liver and give her chemo that could potentially shrink the tumour (although not cure it) and give her a couple more years. To the point where she could actually go back to her job as a Deputy Headmistress. So she pulled herself up by the bootstraps and decided that was exactly what was going to happen.
She banned her two sisters and parents from being maudlin and upset about it as if she could deal with it then so could they. She spent the next couple of months bossing around doctors from various hospitals and kept telling me not to be so daft when I had to postpone my visits yet again (the news clashed with us trying to move house and then the unfortunate death of my mother-in-law resulting in weekly trips to Yorkshire). She had no intention of going anywhere soon so what's the rush?
By Christmas though it was clear things were not good. The hospital still hadn't started chemo as her liver was proving difficult. By the time I saw her, she was almost green. She was painfully thin (ironic seeing as she had spent a fortune at Weight Watchers over the years) but with swollen legs and a tummy that made her appear 7 months pregnant. Yet she was still more annoyed that I hadn't brought my baby scan photos to show her! Then regaled me with the stories of the batty old woman in the bed opposite who kept trying to give away her sister's baby. The woman thought my cousin would be a much better mother.
Less than two weeks after I saw her she moved into a hospice - for recuperation, she said. My parents saw her and my mum knew instantly that it was not for recuperation. She looked awful and could barely get in and out of bed unaided. A few days later she went home and told her parents the news we'd all been dreading. There was nothing left the hospital could do. It had taken too long to drain her liver and now chemo was no longer on the table.
Her living room was turned into a bedroom and her husband took over caring for her full time. Their two children (3 and 6) reacted very differently to mummy's illness. The younger one didn't notice any difference and continued to run to her and show her the things he had done. The older one was frightened and wouldn't go into see her. Mummy looked too strange.
Just a few days later, almost sensing that the time was close, her husband asked the children if they wanted to stay with their grandparents that night and 6 year old daughter instantly agreed. The children were sent off and my cousin and her husband spent the whole night listening to music. The District Nurse was sent for and husband was told to phone anyone who might want to see my cousin straight away as she was unlikely to last the night. The midwife was right and Liz passed away early that morning.
I've not really been the same since and I won't lie, I am dreading the funeral next week. I can barely hold it together 10 days later writing this so Lord knows what I'll be like standing at the front of the church while my father puts the photo on top of the coffin.
Whilst there is nothing good that I can say about this whole incident, an amusing story has emerged. Her sister had to tell her 4 year old son that his aunt had died and did not know how to do it. So she told him that Aunty Liz had gone to live in the sky with the stars.
- 'Oh', he replied. 'What, in a space rocket?'
- 'erm, something like that' his mother spluttered.
- 'COOOOOL!'
How can we be sad now, eh?
On the 27th January, my 34 year old cousin lost her short, but brutal fight, with a rare cancer. After her doctor spent all summer telling her that her itching and bruising was an allergic reaction (although to what, he couldn't tell her), she was finally diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in early October. The tumour had wrapped and wound itself around blood vessels and arteries and was wedged in close to her liver causing her to have a more than passing resemblance to Marge Simpson. Given the type and severity, she was told it was inoperable.
Most people would have crumbled at the prospect of leaving two young children motherless but not her. She asked all the right questions and discovered that they could drain the jaundice on her liver and give her chemo that could potentially shrink the tumour (although not cure it) and give her a couple more years. To the point where she could actually go back to her job as a Deputy Headmistress. So she pulled herself up by the bootstraps and decided that was exactly what was going to happen.
She banned her two sisters and parents from being maudlin and upset about it as if she could deal with it then so could they. She spent the next couple of months bossing around doctors from various hospitals and kept telling me not to be so daft when I had to postpone my visits yet again (the news clashed with us trying to move house and then the unfortunate death of my mother-in-law resulting in weekly trips to Yorkshire). She had no intention of going anywhere soon so what's the rush?
By Christmas though it was clear things were not good. The hospital still hadn't started chemo as her liver was proving difficult. By the time I saw her, she was almost green. She was painfully thin (ironic seeing as she had spent a fortune at Weight Watchers over the years) but with swollen legs and a tummy that made her appear 7 months pregnant. Yet she was still more annoyed that I hadn't brought my baby scan photos to show her! Then regaled me with the stories of the batty old woman in the bed opposite who kept trying to give away her sister's baby. The woman thought my cousin would be a much better mother.
Less than two weeks after I saw her she moved into a hospice - for recuperation, she said. My parents saw her and my mum knew instantly that it was not for recuperation. She looked awful and could barely get in and out of bed unaided. A few days later she went home and told her parents the news we'd all been dreading. There was nothing left the hospital could do. It had taken too long to drain her liver and now chemo was no longer on the table.
Her living room was turned into a bedroom and her husband took over caring for her full time. Their two children (3 and 6) reacted very differently to mummy's illness. The younger one didn't notice any difference and continued to run to her and show her the things he had done. The older one was frightened and wouldn't go into see her. Mummy looked too strange.
Just a few days later, almost sensing that the time was close, her husband asked the children if they wanted to stay with their grandparents that night and 6 year old daughter instantly agreed. The children were sent off and my cousin and her husband spent the whole night listening to music. The District Nurse was sent for and husband was told to phone anyone who might want to see my cousin straight away as she was unlikely to last the night. The midwife was right and Liz passed away early that morning.
I've not really been the same since and I won't lie, I am dreading the funeral next week. I can barely hold it together 10 days later writing this so Lord knows what I'll be like standing at the front of the church while my father puts the photo on top of the coffin.
Whilst there is nothing good that I can say about this whole incident, an amusing story has emerged. Her sister had to tell her 4 year old son that his aunt had died and did not know how to do it. So she told him that Aunty Liz had gone to live in the sky with the stars.
- 'Oh', he replied. 'What, in a space rocket?'
- 'erm, something like that' his mother spluttered.
- 'COOOOOL!'
How can we be sad now, eh?
Friday, 20 January 2012
Clearly I am not alone....
Moments after my previous post I found this wonderful article in The Guardian. Again, I'm sure it won't make me terribly popular as it's not a trendy opinion, but I guess that's just tough.
SOPA - behind the legislation...
SOPA - behind the legislation...
What do you get for killing Michael Jackson?
I saw this picture on Facebook and chuckled. But then I read the headline that went with it and wondered if the author had missed the point... what do you think?
I will be brutally honest, I don't know very much about the SOPA legislation - which is slightly embarrassing given my profession - but I will stand firm and say that I am very much against music piracy. In my experience it is usually carried out by the very people who moan that there is too much manufactured pop and reality shows but if you don't BUY music and therefore PAY the people creating it then there is no investment available to go 'old school' and seek out and nurture new and unique talent. But that's a whole other rant, probably best not to get me started!
Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that, okay, so you could get more time at 'Her Majesty's Pleasure' for illegally downloading music than for bumping off the related artist, but surely that doesn't mean SOPA is wrong. Surely that means that the system of justice and guidelines for convicting and sentencing people who commit violent crimes is screwed?
Anyone with me?
I will be brutally honest, I don't know very much about the SOPA legislation - which is slightly embarrassing given my profession - but I will stand firm and say that I am very much against music piracy. In my experience it is usually carried out by the very people who moan that there is too much manufactured pop and reality shows but if you don't BUY music and therefore PAY the people creating it then there is no investment available to go 'old school' and seek out and nurture new and unique talent. But that's a whole other rant, probably best not to get me started!
Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that, okay, so you could get more time at 'Her Majesty's Pleasure' for illegally downloading music than for bumping off the related artist, but surely that doesn't mean SOPA is wrong. Surely that means that the system of justice and guidelines for convicting and sentencing people who commit violent crimes is screwed?
Anyone with me?
Thursday, 12 January 2012
First Impressions
It's probably not healthy given that I am 24 weeks pregnant but I am shamelessly addicted to 'One born every minute' as is my work colleague who is 32 weeks pregnant.
The excitement in the office yesterday afternoon when we realised the episode due to aired that evening was the 'one with the girl with the birthing outfit'! We'd both been completely shocked and amused at last week's trailer showing someone who had designed her own water birthing outfit. I will be honest, we'd both thought that her and her partner were perhaps 'not our kind of people' and we'd made that snap judgement based on their look and dress style and the way they spoke. Not fair but something that happens everyday.
I know that I had smugly thought how much she would care about her bloody outfit once the pain started to rip through her body and wondered if she would be one of the infamous screamers who for some reason had no idea that this process might not be reminiscent of an aromatherapy massage in a luxury spa.
As someone who does not like to admit she is wrong [EVER!] I will swallow my pride and apologise. Heather, I apologise for misjudging you and your birthing outfit. Childbirth has never been a dignified experience but you gave probably the best demonstration of dignity that I have witnessed.
I know everyone is different and maybe you were lucky and had very little pain, or you have a high pain threshold but regardless of that, you showed what can be achieved if you channel your energies into the task at hand rather than worrying about what could be/might be/ is!
I scoffed at your remark about not going to antenatal classes as 'ignorance is bliss' but now wonder if you have a point!
Okay, so if you had been one of the unlucky ladies who did suffer with complications then it would have been a whole different ballgame but you weren't and you just went on to show that a regular uncomplicated birth can be exactly that. Well done lady. I just hope I have a similar experience to you rather than mirror some of the horror stories I've had to hear from friends!
The excitement in the office yesterday afternoon when we realised the episode due to aired that evening was the 'one with the girl with the birthing outfit'! We'd both been completely shocked and amused at last week's trailer showing someone who had designed her own water birthing outfit. I will be honest, we'd both thought that her and her partner were perhaps 'not our kind of people' and we'd made that snap judgement based on their look and dress style and the way they spoke. Not fair but something that happens everyday.
I know that I had smugly thought how much she would care about her bloody outfit once the pain started to rip through her body and wondered if she would be one of the infamous screamers who for some reason had no idea that this process might not be reminiscent of an aromatherapy massage in a luxury spa.
As someone who does not like to admit she is wrong [EVER!] I will swallow my pride and apologise. Heather, I apologise for misjudging you and your birthing outfit. Childbirth has never been a dignified experience but you gave probably the best demonstration of dignity that I have witnessed.
I know everyone is different and maybe you were lucky and had very little pain, or you have a high pain threshold but regardless of that, you showed what can be achieved if you channel your energies into the task at hand rather than worrying about what could be/might be/ is!
I scoffed at your remark about not going to antenatal classes as 'ignorance is bliss' but now wonder if you have a point!
Okay, so if you had been one of the unlucky ladies who did suffer with complications then it would have been a whole different ballgame but you weren't and you just went on to show that a regular uncomplicated birth can be exactly that. Well done lady. I just hope I have a similar experience to you rather than mirror some of the horror stories I've had to hear from friends!
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Preggy brain
Preggy brain is definitely kicking in. Brilliant.
Yesterday I tried to let myself into work using my Tfl Travelcard rather than my electronic work pass. Not a smart move. Not sure how I thought swiping a piece of cardboard on a touchpad was going to have any effect.
Then I managed to drop a really nice piece of [fresh from the oven] salmon (earmarked for my dinner) on the floor also smashing the plate it was on. Lovely.
Mother nature is cruel. At a time when you supposed to be at your most responsible and entirely in charge of a new life that is completely dependant on you, mother nature decides to take away your hand/eye co-ordination and your short term memory. Go figure.
Yesterday I tried to let myself into work using my Tfl Travelcard rather than my electronic work pass. Not a smart move. Not sure how I thought swiping a piece of cardboard on a touchpad was going to have any effect.
Then I managed to drop a really nice piece of [fresh from the oven] salmon (earmarked for my dinner) on the floor also smashing the plate it was on. Lovely.
Mother nature is cruel. At a time when you supposed to be at your most responsible and entirely in charge of a new life that is completely dependant on you, mother nature decides to take away your hand/eye co-ordination and your short term memory. Go figure.
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