On being pregnant at Christmas

I'm only writing this because I was surprised to learn that Christmas is different when you're pregnant!

Christmas Food

I didn't think this would change that drastically for me (I don't eat ham), but eating on Christmas was still trickier than I thought it would be.  My Christmas lunch consisted of green salad, snow peas (which I love) and boiled potatoes followed by fruit and jelly.  Being predominantly vego and gluten free always limits what I can eat, but what I hadn't taken into account was the whole dressings and other cold meats factor.  These days I do eat a little white meat (cravings following breaking ankle) but being knocked up, can't eat it cold.  And being polite, I didn't want to ask for a microwave just to eat something that I didn't need to.  After having the mayo speech given to me a bazillion times I was afraid of all salads (except those that were nude, or dressed by my mum) which limited my limited fare even further.

Dinner was easier as our family are slightly allergy-centric (there were gluten free Christmas mince tarts).  I made a dessert and main for this meal (an AMAZING nut loaf which I will be making annually henceforth), so knew I'd have food regardless.  I had plenty of options, all vegetarian.  But as a lapsed long term 'proper' vegetarian, this suited me just fine.

The best thing about restricted eating, is I didn't get the dreaded Christmas Bloat.  On the way home, Murray was complaining about 'Food Sweats' -  I suffered from no such ailment.  Following Christmas dinner I felt full and happy and still-able-to-breath-cos-stomach-not-compressing-lungs.  

Christmas Presents

Again, I never thought this would alter with only being 17 weeks pregnant at Christmas, but I was wrong.  I was spoilt.  There were a few extra little gifts from 'Santa' including a notebook to help my baby brain and an AWESOME t-shirt with 'Private Property Please Don't Touch' on it (Auntie Santa's rule).  And the foetus got some very thoughtful presents too!  I felt so loved by my family.

And although we didn't get unwrappable presents from Murray's family, what we got was just as awesome.  Great chats with his cousin and cousin's wife on things pregnancy (and not TMI with opinions), and a big offer to lend us some essential (and expensive) baby things.  Which means that we hardly have to buy anything now to prepare for the arrival of this kid.  Which means so much less to stress about.

I had feared that my interactions and gifts would take a slant toward motherhood, and was so grateful that on the whole they didn't - my immediate family treated me exactly like normal and bought thoughtful things for me.  Many things around pregnancy make you feel less like an individual and more like a vessel.  Not just in terms of your body, and the obvious life-style changes required (because you do become a vessel), but in terms of how people perceive you, how your stomach (it seems) becomes public property and how your way of thinking is questioned.  Some normalcy, especially in a time where you are dealing with many people who unintentionally challenge your right to be an individual, is probably the best gift I got this Christmas.  

Christmas Crash

Despite the fact that recent Christmas's are simpler logistically than they've ever been, at the end of our two day Christmas blitz I was suffering.  On Christmas we only had to go to two houses.  I didn't have to cook full meals, and we were home by 10pm Christmas night. 

By Boxing Day I was screwed.  Boxing Day is when we traditionally spend time with Murray's mum's family.  We were home from brunch by 2pm (after a quick Boxing Day shopping errand).  I almost fainted during the errand, holding onto my purchase as a means of propping myself up.  On arriving home I napped for as long as possible before heading over to Murray's parents to Skype his brother in Canberra (first Christmas away from home) and exchange gifts.  We couldn't even stay until 9pm when catch up was to begin, so we missed talking to Alan which was sad.

Christmas Future

The scariest thing about Christmas was the realisation that in choosing to become parents, we are now naturally a part of a different social group within our families.  That in itself isn't that scary.  The scary part is realising that this means, like all the other parents in our generation, that we need to consider all the other children in the family (our 'child's' peers) at Christmas.

Within our families, that's a huge realisation.

I've never thought about how much time, money and effort our cousins have put into thinking about all the kids at Christmas time, and this realisation has given me so much more appreciation of them.  Within my extended family, we have thirteen children in the next generation.  In Murray's family, there are another eight.  If we spent just $10 on each child next Christmas, that's an extra $220 to budget for next year, and an extra twenty two little (or not so little) people to think about.  It's a big deal.

It's a big deal because not only do you need to think about Christmas time, but also birthdays.  Birthday's mean not only buying presents for each child through the year (doubling extra spending to $440 PA on a tight budget), but also REMEMBERING each birthday.  This is yet another excuse to create an Excel workbook - I'm going to have to spreadsheet this stuff otherwise we'll be totally screwed.

I'm not even a parent yet and already working out there is WAY more to this parenting thing than I ever thought about before.  I am grateful for this Christmas realisation now, when I have time to budget (and spreadsheet).

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So that was my Christmas - over all, pretty awesome.  I am so grateful for our family, and the little traditions we have.  And although some aspects of next Christmas will be different, I'm sure most things will be much the same, and that's a relief.

On Being Knocked Up

I know being pregnant is supposed to be natural part of life (duh), but my first instincts on pregnancy:  it being unnatural, and terrifying, were right all along.  I'm sure for some women it is a magical time that they treasure forever, but I am not one of those women.  Don’t get me wrong, I'm looking forward to getting the baby at the end, but I am really not enjoying being pregnant.

Here are the top five reasons why I think pregnancy sucks:

1)      I am completely brain-dead.  And in our household, this is a measureable fact.  Murray and I play a LOT of board games.  One of these games, (Dominion) we keep a tally of.  Since falling pregnant, my ability to beat Murray at Dominion (or any other game for that matter) has fallen dramatically.  It was lovely keeping a tally as we usually win equally as many games as each other.  It’s not any more.  Instead of winning around 50% of the time, I now win closer to 25% of the time.  This is depressing.  I like being an intelligent human being capable of equalling or besting my intelligent significant other.  What’s more depressing is we can’t even PLAY most of the time because my brain can’t focus enough to allow it.  It’s like ‘the dumbening’ Lisa Simpson discovered on that episode of The Simpsons, only it’s real.  And it’s going to be like this for the next nine months.  Probably even longer.

And because my brain doesn’t work properly, I can’t do most of the things I enjoy without frustration.  I can’t write well, I can’t spell or type properly, I can’t play games good (or format sentences correctly), I can’t focus on work or conversations with others for long periods of time.  All I am good at is watching TV and reading The Daily Mail.  Baby brain is real, and it really, really sucks.  I want my brain back.

2)      I'm exhausted.  I only work around 30 hours a week, and even this is hard.  I honestly don’t know how grown up women with ‘real’ jobs cope.  And I find it even harder to understand how women who already have children manage to do all that needs doing and not fall down.  These women are super women and I have the utmost respect for them.  I have to put caveats around my social schedule as I cannot do nearly most of the things I normally would and still cope with work.  This is kinda good as I cannot remember most of the things I'm supposed to do anyway, and am likely to go to the wrong place at the wrong time to see the wrong people.

And what aids and abets my exhaustion is that I've developed insomnia.  This is another ‘normal’ part of pregnancy which seems completely unnatural.  If you’re tired, surely you should rest to help grow the tiny human inside you?  Why won’t my non-functional brain shut down when it’s doing nothing useful anyway?  Is it trying to make up for its dysfunction by just staying on longer?  It’s dumb.  I'm over it.  And you can’t take meds or alcohol to help -  although I have occasionally been cheating and taking Phenergan (harmless antihistamine) as it helps knock me out.

3)      There are lots of other gross things that happen to some women’s bodies that people don’t tell you about.  I am glad I watched What To Expect When You’re Expecting – it’s made me feel normal (I’m the blonde lady at the beginning of the trailer)   People tell you about the morning sickness and exhaustion, they don’t tell you about the other stuff.  They don’t tell you about the constipation and gas and extreme vaginal discharge that you may experience, or the bleeding gums (no-one believes me, but this really is a pregnancy thing and not just poor dental health.) And although everyone knows your boobs get sore, I don’t think you realise quite how sore until you experience it.  And they get big, which means it’s easier for your significant other to accidentally smack them, or roll over onto them when you are sleeping, which is a bad thing, and can cause disharmony in your relationship.

     Pregnancy just makes me feel gross.  I do not feel like an ‘earth mother’, I feel like a murderous ball of gas and gross and foetus that people should be wary of.  It goes without saying that I have zero libido because all I can think about is work and how gross and tired I am.  I think that whole pregnancy hormone randiness theory is a myth designed to con men into wanting to knock up their ladies.  Because if they knew what actually happened when they knocked them up, there’s no way any sane man would do it.  And the human race would fail to exist.

And I’m one of the lucky people who didn’t get bad morning sickness.  Imagine how grumpy and gross and not sexy those very sick pregnant ladies feel?  Imagine how their partners feel? 

4)       Once you tell people you are pregnant, THE ENTIRE WORLD knows you are pregnant.  This has already caused a terrifying encounter for me, also known as Murray’s Work Christmas Do.  EVERYONE at his work knows I’m pregnant (he only told three people), which meant PEOPLE I DON’T KNOW hugged me and touched my stomach (weird and inappropriate).  I had to do my utmost not to punch someone or burst into tears – both being things I know to be inappropriate to do.  It is strange enough when it is people you know, but so much worse when it is people you don’t know.

And as a linked aside, I realised as we saw each other across a crowded room, that one of his workmates is one of my old workmates.  She also just happens to be the owner of the very pregnant belly I saw twelve years ago that was what put me off having children.  We were in a meeting when she was about eight months gone.  And her baby was kicking, so she lifted up her shirt to show us, and I honestly saw its foot.  That was the moment I realised that growing a baby is housing a parasite.  And it reminded me of Sigourney Weaver in Aliens.  And I never, ever wanted to be Sigourney Weaver in Aliens. 

So there was also that.  And the food was bad.  (On another, happier aside, Murray’s boss feels EXACTLY the same way as me about babies/parasites/Aliens, which has reassured us that I can feel that way, and still be an awesome parent, and survive this pregnancy thing.)

I am also not one of those really-excited-oh-my-God-this-is-amazing-and-the-only-thing-important-in-my-life kinda people.  I am not clucky.  I am doing this because this is necessary for us to be parents, and I think we’d be good parents.  When people go all gooey, or talk to me differently because I’m pregnant, it makes me want to puke.  I’m pregnant.  I’m housing a parasite until it’s big enough to make it on its own and comes out as an independent little person.  This is not cute.  This is necessary.  I am glad that you are glad I am pregnant but the foetus doesn’t care if you are baby talk at my stomach.  The foetus would care more if you didn’t cause my adrenals to go haywire and speed up its heart rate by weirding me out.  And it might care if you gave me a strawberry.  Or some chocolate.  Or maybe a foot rub.

I am grateful that all my close friends and family are aware that I will feel this way and although they are definitely excited, they are not acting like freaky weirdos.  Thank you awesome people. 

5)      Once everyone knows you are pregnant, they have opinions, advice and ideas.  Sometimes this is helpful, sometimes it isn’t and sometimes it is just overwhelming.  Becoming pregnant when you are not someone who’s into babies, means stepping into a foreign and scary world of learning, which is especially hard when your brain isn’t working. 

There are so many things to think about, and many things you have NEVER thought about.  All these pregnancy classes available: yoga, massage, acupuncture, antenatal and other stuff I’m sure, and all these things cost money which wasn’t budgeted for because I didn't know I needed to.  Is any of it necessary (besides antenatal classes)?  I honestly don’t know.  I am terrified of the labour part and want my body to be as prepped as possible – but who has time, money and brains for these things?  I also know I’m going to go to one of these classes and it will be full of more people I barely know who will share opinions and advice which will fill my brain with even more stuff.  And then my head will explode and the foetus will die.   

And if the people are being open, and not sharing their opinions yet, they’ll ask you about yours. Sometimes it’s about a topic that you didn’t know existed and you’re only answer is ‘ah, we’re still deciding’ because really, what you mean is ‘I’m going to Google that when I get home’.  Then other times you do have an opinion, but you know it’s not going to go down favourably with this person-of-a-different-generation and you just don’t have energy for debate (cos no brain and exhausted) so you do your best to nod and smile and say nothing when really you want to say SO many things.  I knew this would happen, as I’ve seen it happen to other people, but it’s much more real when it's actually happening to you.

And that’s this blog/rant done.  I am truly sorry.  I know some sentences are ridiculously long.  I know this needs more editing.  I have a feeling though that this may be the format my blog posts take over the next 6+ months because bad rant is currently my only volume.  I will try my best to write about non-preggo things, and not rant, but I can see me failing at this.  Please bear with me.  One day I’ll be normal again.  I hope.