I connected with the gorgeous Selena @themumcoach when I first started blogging and she kindly let me feature on her amazing blog. She was one of the first bloggers to take a chance on me. Now after the birth of her second baby, she has written a brilliant and honest post about pregnancy. I have to say although I suffered from 90% of the below, I think I blocked it out. When I think of being pregnant I think of being a big, happy weeble. Perhaps this is what happens, we block it out so we go on to have more babies. What I stand for is honesty and this post certainly is. This is the truth about pregnancy number two by The Mum Coach. Be warned if you are reading this on the commute to work you will be laughing like a hyena by the end.
Okay, so I now have an eleven week old baby. Baby number two (number one is nearly four) I love my children. Admittedly I'm not mad keen on the threenager stage but I love them both unconditionally. What I do not love is pregnancy.
There, I said it, I hate it. For a woman with PCOS I am very blessed to have conceived within a month or two of trying, particularly as I was overweight when we started trying for our second child. I knew I wanted to write a blog on pregnancy.
An alternative to the ones we often read about blooming and blossoming women with the occasional stretch mark. I know these woman exist, and hats off to them. Well done for remaining dignified and beautiful during pregnancy....I am NOT one of those women. I found that even sharing these pregnancy woes with friends left me feeling like the only one (becoming a Mum does, at times, come with a superiority membership), while others gave me the old "thank fuck it wasn't just me"
So for those women who turn into haggard, gassy old witches during pregnancy this is for you. Pour yourself a glass of cranberry juice (great for cystitis right?) and have a belly laugh, and likely wee (pelvic floor probs), on me. This one is free.
Below are some unedited points I wrote in the note pad on my phone whilst pregnant, for reference when it came to writing this blog;
"Knotted hair" That's right folks. I let myself go during pregnancy. For me it's a right of passage, before you pass a baby through yours. Even so, finding an unplanned dreadlock was an all time low.
"Monobrow, lip and chin hair" I am half Jamaican and have very dark hair so yes, I do suffer from a bit of fluff now and then. So what? On this occasion however, I distinctly remember being both shocked an appalled to discover that I had actually developed facial hair my bearded husband would be proud of. I guess the real question is....how long had it been there for?
"Large, veined breasts. Black huge nipples. Leaking. Smell" Well, isn't this one delightful?! It kind of speaks for itself. Luckily for you, dear reader, I have not attached a picture but I am ASTOUNDED at how large my nipples have become. I am certain there is a world record with my name just waiting to be collected. As there is no monetary reward I'll leave it for some freaky porn star to claim, she will have likely worked harder for those nips than I. I do feel I should explain "smell" In addition to all the wonderful changes to my body that pregnancy brings I also get anxiety. Driving at 20mph convinced I'll be swerved off the road at any given moment (this was the same with both pregnancies) but this was a new one, thinking that my ever leaking breasts had left me smelling like a continental cheese counter. My husband assured me this was not the case....
"No belly button, black line" Pretty standard stuff but as with the ol' digestive nips the line was darker than dark. I looked like my toddler had gone at me with a Sharpie.
"Large vagina" I got fat. As my fanny and I were in this together, so did she. I am confident that the eight pounds lost in my first week dieting was directly off the old girl. She's lost her pregnancy weight. Me, not so much.
"Thrush"
Ah, this bastard plagued me throughout my pregnancy. Despite mortified reactions from the odd friend when I announced this and the alien like plasm, I am assured by medical professionals that I am not alone. It was so awful, so repulsive that I considered taking up residence at the end of the production line in a Canesten factory or living in a bath of natural yoghurt. I think "thrush" was my most used word while pregnant. Post-pregnancy the words "laxative, suppository and birthing a shit" were......
"Mr Tumnus" Yeah, I didn't shave my legs. They got so hairy I just couldn't be bothered. Sadly for me I thought that ripped maternity jeans were the best pregnancy fashion choice. So, what did I do? I shaved were the holes in my jeans were, of course! The final point came courtesy of my good friend Hayley. When I messaged her to say I was writing this blog she simply replied "don't forget the piles" I will NEVER forget the piles.
So there you have it, the trolls guide to pregnancy. Ah, I almost forgot - the title of this blog is "Strap-on" There hasn't been any bumping uglies, kinky or otherwise, but that is just the advice I wish I was given. Sort the straps. If this is your second child then sort the straps on every fucking baby holding gadget you have. I learnt this the hard way.
With a 10 day old and plagued with guilt from the lack of fun my toddler had 9 months prior we ventured shopping, to lunch and then to the farm. When we reached the farm we spent 20 minutes pissing about with the buggy straps in the car park only to later abandon the buggy for a sling. I waddled (bad back and after pains) smelling like a handful of pennies (blood loss) past the payment desk to the first bench I saw. I sat on that bench for nearly two hours while my husband and child explored, my feet swelling so much I had to adjust the buckles on my sandals. I sat on that bench alone sweating like a bitch and you know what? I couldn't do the fucking straps on the sling either!
To follow the brilliant and beautiful Selena you can at;
Okay, so I now have an eleven week old baby. Baby number two (number one is nearly four) I love my children. Admittedly I'm not mad keen on the threenager stage but I love them both unconditionally. What I do not love is pregnancy.
There, I said it, I hate it. For a woman with PCOS I am very blessed to have conceived within a month or two of trying, particularly as I was overweight when we started trying for our second child. I knew I wanted to write a blog on pregnancy.
An alternative to the ones we often read about blooming and blossoming women with the occasional stretch mark. I know these woman exist, and hats off to them. Well done for remaining dignified and beautiful during pregnancy....I am NOT one of those women. I found that even sharing these pregnancy woes with friends left me feeling like the only one (becoming a Mum does, at times, come with a superiority membership), while others gave me the old "thank fuck it wasn't just me"
So for those women who turn into haggard, gassy old witches during pregnancy this is for you. Pour yourself a glass of cranberry juice (great for cystitis right?) and have a belly laugh, and likely wee (pelvic floor probs), on me. This one is free.
Below are some unedited points I wrote in the note pad on my phone whilst pregnant, for reference when it came to writing this blog;
"Knotted hair" That's right folks. I let myself go during pregnancy. For me it's a right of passage, before you pass a baby through yours. Even so, finding an unplanned dreadlock was an all time low.
"Monobrow, lip and chin hair" I am half Jamaican and have very dark hair so yes, I do suffer from a bit of fluff now and then. So what? On this occasion however, I distinctly remember being both shocked an appalled to discover that I had actually developed facial hair my bearded husband would be proud of. I guess the real question is....how long had it been there for?
"Large, veined breasts. Black huge nipples. Leaking. Smell" Well, isn't this one delightful?! It kind of speaks for itself. Luckily for you, dear reader, I have not attached a picture but I am ASTOUNDED at how large my nipples have become. I am certain there is a world record with my name just waiting to be collected. As there is no monetary reward I'll leave it for some freaky porn star to claim, she will have likely worked harder for those nips than I. I do feel I should explain "smell" In addition to all the wonderful changes to my body that pregnancy brings I also get anxiety. Driving at 20mph convinced I'll be swerved off the road at any given moment (this was the same with both pregnancies) but this was a new one, thinking that my ever leaking breasts had left me smelling like a continental cheese counter. My husband assured me this was not the case....
"No belly button, black line" Pretty standard stuff but as with the ol' digestive nips the line was darker than dark. I looked like my toddler had gone at me with a Sharpie.
"Large vagina" I got fat. As my fanny and I were in this together, so did she. I am confident that the eight pounds lost in my first week dieting was directly off the old girl. She's lost her pregnancy weight. Me, not so much.
 |
| Selena and her gorgeous family |
"Mr Tumnus" Yeah, I didn't shave my legs. They got so hairy I just couldn't be bothered. Sadly for me I thought that ripped maternity jeans were the best pregnancy fashion choice. So, what did I do? I shaved were the holes in my jeans were, of course! The final point came courtesy of my good friend Hayley. When I messaged her to say I was writing this blog she simply replied "don't forget the piles" I will NEVER forget the piles.
So there you have it, the trolls guide to pregnancy. Ah, I almost forgot - the title of this blog is "Strap-on" There hasn't been any bumping uglies, kinky or otherwise, but that is just the advice I wish I was given. Sort the straps. If this is your second child then sort the straps on every fucking baby holding gadget you have. I learnt this the hard way.
With a 10 day old and plagued with guilt from the lack of fun my toddler had 9 months prior we ventured shopping, to lunch and then to the farm. When we reached the farm we spent 20 minutes pissing about with the buggy straps in the car park only to later abandon the buggy for a sling. I waddled (bad back and after pains) smelling like a handful of pennies (blood loss) past the payment desk to the first bench I saw. I sat on that bench for nearly two hours while my husband and child explored, my feet swelling so much I had to adjust the buckles on my sandals. I sat on that bench alone sweating like a bitch and you know what? I couldn't do the fucking straps on the sling either!
To follow the brilliant and beautiful Selena you can at;
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