When I was pregnant with Phoebe I worked two weeks up until my due date and was planning on doing the same with this little one. At the moment I’m just thanking my lucky stars that I have holidays in two weeks time for six weeks and that I can really rest. After that, I’ll reassess everything and may have to re-do the budget a little and finish work much earlier than I had hoped. In any case, I’m still trying to enjoy being pregnant but realise that unlike my first pregnancy, my body is already screaming out to me to slow down.
This week has been hard, like really bloody hard. My body has started to scream at me “that’s enough”. My pelvis is well and truly screwed, almost word verbatim of my Osteo (I use the term almost loosley). I spent the wee hours of Sunday morning having a cry in bed, and no, it didn’t seem to help the pain but sometimes all that’s needed is a good bloody cry!
I spent Monday and Tuesday at work, waddling around like a wounded penguin. All the while, I couldn’t get out of any chair quicker than an old lady! Tuesday night I finally met with my Osteo who was a little shocked at my rapid decline and it was decided that I would finally start wearing a support belt. Already it is helping me to move around alot freer and with much less pain, but to say I’m fixed would be a great understatement. I know that the next fourteen weeks I will be spending some time on Struggle Street.
I’m trying to stick to a routine with the washing and housework, so that when I come home from work I can slump down on my bed for an hour of so and let my sore body rest guilt free. Sorry for all the doom and gloom, I’m not normally one to focus on the negative, but hell, I’m just so sore it’s a bit too hard to ignore!