Things can only get better….surely!

So with excitement and trepidation we hit the 12 week mark. Second trimester means feeling better, more energy and less sickness….doesn’t it. Well yes and no. For me it wasn’t until 14/15 weeks that the daily vomiting phenomenon wore off.

I think feeling crappy was definitely made better by our 12 week scan. Finally you can see you little peanut 😁. They are really in there! I felt a sudden need to protect wash over me along with the realisation that I was going to be a mum. Your hormones certainly contribute to a fair amount of emotional outbursts but so does relief, worry and realisation.

When the vomiting finally subsided I have to admit I was relieved. I could finally eat again and boy did I! When I had to buy maternity jeans it may have been half for the little bump I was sprouting and half for the appetite I was sporting.

My partner and I decided like many couples to find out the gender of our little peanut. I’ve never been so nervous in my life, yet more excited than all my Christmases at once. ‘And it’s a girl’, the words that will stay with me forever. I was going to be the mum of a daughter.

From the exhausted mum and her eye bags 🙂

More sick than a choppy sea crossing.

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From the title you may have already guessed that my journey into motherhood certainly made itself known. At 5 weeks pregnant I had to announce my delightful news to my colleagues and boss (mainly due to the constant running back and forth to the staff room and toilet). The morning (all day) sickness was relentless. My body no longer liked food or water or the shower or the smell of whatever downstairs was cooking (always onions, all the time, even in the middle of the bloody night). The worst part had to be, having felt a little better and wanting to eat, tucking into a longed for full breakfast to moments after finishing (like literally less that 2 minutes) hurling the whole lot up. On this occasion I was then hungry and had to make myself something else to eat (almost always toast with mature cheddar to the rescue).

It’s safe to say I was feeling pretty run down and generally rubbish. Pregnancy thus far had not turned out to be glowy And I definitely didn’t feel like I was floating around all consumed by happiness and excitement. On a good day I felt like I’d at least be ran over by a bus. Of course I was excited about the impending addition of a tiny little person, half me and half the love of my life. I hoped for them to be more like him than me but I suppose he hoped the same (I have much better feet 😂).

At this point I wondered if I would ever feel ‘normal’ again. I mean I didn’t look pregnant, our tiny little person was no bigger than a pea or a peanut. Unfortunately for our now 9 week old while in the womb we just didn’t feel right referring to them as ‘it’ or ‘them’ so the week they reached the size of a peanut well it stuck. From this point forward they were peanut. Our little peanut. Well still call them peanut and probably forever will.

From the exhausted mummy and her eye bags 🙂