I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but I was a little naughty and missed a couple of blog posts last week. The reason for such bad behaviour? I was too frickin' sleepy!
I love sleep. Sleep has always been my friend. I can sleep anytime, anywhere on anything. It's a gift! I'm not great at going to bed at sensible times, but once I am there, I am out for the count and can clock up the recommended 8 hours of shut eye without a moment's hesitation. Especially since being pregnant, 10 hours can be managed easily on a good night!
This past week however (I literally just yawned whilst typing this!!) I have been struggling to have the good quality zzzzzz's that I am used to. Factor in a cocktail of hormones, heartburn, lower back pain and a little baby who likes to do the conga around my womb at night time (I read somewhere that apparently I rock him to sleep during the day when I'm up and about..... ahhhhhhhh, how sweet...) and there you have it: A night of disturbed sleep with the result of one sleepy, yawning hairdresser who is fast representing the physicality of a Moomin (see below for picture reference).
|A Moomin... aka.... Me|
So, what with the lack of sleep and the grumpy mood, and the ever increasing waistline (where a waistline once was....).... it is pretty safe to say that I have not been feeling so hot about myself this week - in the physical sense I mean. I am aware that this shall pass and that nothing is ever permanent or as bad as it appears. But when you are moving up a dress size or two, walking like a geriatric, have hair growing in places you never new it could, are peeing yourself after you sneeze (yup... SO fun!) and your boobs resemble tommy tippees that are on SALE..... it is hard to feel like you still have 'it'. I look at my lingerie drawer and feel nostalgic! The knickers I wear now come in plastic packaging with 100% cotton written on them! My shopping list consisted of tena pads and haemorrhoid cream this week?!
But, after it all came to a head and I had a good huff at Paulibear (god bless the man's patience!) and a snotty nosed cry at how unfair it all is and how I have lost my 'sexiness', I realised just how selfish and silly I am being. How many people would trade their left eye ball for a chance to have this miracle happen? How much will I miss having a bump once he is here? How important is any of the shallow nonsense that is body image in the grand old scheme of giving birth to a new life? Paulibear has reminded me of this many a time this past week, and finally I am beginning to see sense. I am going to get a beautiful baby boy out of this body of mine, a body Paulibear reassures me that he still loves and admires the same as always... even when it is cocooned in cotton briefs. And that is the thought that maintains my perspective and self worth, and stops me from being such a grumpy Moomin.
BUMP PIC: WEEK 23
|Both cats joined me for the pic this week.... making up for last week's absence!|
Added extra information of how sleep deprivation affected me this week:
- I ranted. A lot. At EVERYBODY.
- I tripped up an estimated 20 times.... on curbs, paving slabs.... over my own feet?!
- I put my friend's little boy's tshirt on back to front. And didn't even notice.
- I burnt 4 slices of toast.
- I stabbed myself in the hand with my pintail comb. Really hurt!
- I cried. A lot.