I think it’s fair to say that I am starting to get over it.
And, when you’re pregnant and so many things are out of bounds (like wine, champagne, blue cheese, easy sex, the ability to lift things, the ability to roll over in bed without yelping in pain, the ability to do a big sweaty endorphin-busting workout, gravlax, Aburi salmon sushi, the ability to maintain some kind of vague perspective etc etc), you start to really care and rely on a few key items to keep you comfortable and on the level, mentally speaking. Here are mine, in no particular order. (And no, this post is not sponsored.)
Heat pack. This bad boy is never very far from my side. It has saved agonisingly tender hips, lower back pain, upper back pain, bump ache, neck ache, sciatica and yes, even hoo-ha twinges from the increasingly regular muffin punch.
Hooded poncho. This isn’t mine, but it’s similar. In it, I look like a giant, pot-bellied Nepalese sherpa who couldn’t lift a backpack if her livelihood depended on it, but in downtown Newtown no one would care if you ventured out in a crotchless giraffe onesie so I think I’m good. Poncho cost: $39.95 from a sales rack in a homewares store. Not fashionable, but keeps me warm and happy and when you’re in the last stages of pregnancy, warm and happy is as good as it gets.
Target maternity tights. So incredibly comfy and makes you feel like you’re in a semi-normal outfit if you team them with high boots and a long top or singlet to hide any potential camel toe (trust me, pregnancy and camel toe go hand in hand). I should’ve bought 3 pairs, I was an idiot.
Cheese and bikkies snack pack. Snacks must be carried when pregnant. I learned that lesson the hard way. A single pack of these cheese and crackers can keep pregnancy rage at bay in time for me to find and shove a proper meal in my gob and that, my friends, is $3 well spent. Best of all, you can find them in supermarkets, 711’s, dodgy corner stores. Runner up: Carmen’s natural museli bars.
My husband. Last, but absolutely not least is Mr Chick. He’s not perfect and there have been times in the past nine months when I wanted to rip his head off, but those times (confusingly) are slotted in between many, many MORE times when I am actually teary with love for him and have no idea what I would do without him. It’s weird, the love/hate thing that goes on in a pregnant girl’s brain. Plus, he has fed and watered me, gotten me a heat pack at 3am, done my hair for 2 hours many nights on end, given foot rubs, dealt with irrational crying, and partaken in more conversations about childbirth and perineal trauma than I’m sure he ever expected or wanted to. In a word, trooper.
That’s pretty much it, actually. My pregnancy survival kit is made up of a heat pack, poncho, body pillow, maternity tights, husband and a cheese’n’bikkies snack pack. People, you heard it here first.