It's possible that some of my brain has come back. Well, I'm able to turn the computer on and I can remember how to type, which is a start at least. The reason for this new intelligence low? Well, it appears that I'm pregnant with #3.
It's not entirely a surprise as Alpha and I have been trying for the past nine months or so. It's just a surprise that it happened at all, what with having to see a specialist and being given pills and being told that I have low something-or-other hormone with the possibility that my ovaries are close to shutting up shop for ever, despite me still being in my thirties. But we've got two rugrats already and feel fortunate to have them -Firstborn alone took two years to conceive - so it would have been sad but not a disaster. So very lucky us.
My last pregnancy was nearly six years ago, a long time in hormone world, and I'd forgotten about what being pregnant is like. Unfortunately I'm not one of those women who wafts through it all smiling smugly and glowing with floaty linen layers skimming over their 'designer' bump. I really wish I was one of those pregnancy paragons who can honestly say that they love being pregnant (as opposed to those evil women who lay claim to uber-mommyhood in a wicked attempt to intimidate others) but sadly I turn into a greasy, frizzy-haired, spotty lump with unexplained rashes, itchy skin, huge blue veins, unhealthy food cravings and strange pigmentation blotches (the one that could pass for moustache is a particular favorite of mine). I also get tired, nauseous and hugely grumpy. In short, I'm a nightmare. For nine months. And this time doesn't look like it's going to be any different.
Alpha is scared. The kids are beyond excitement (the harsh reality of Grumpy Mummy hasn't yet hit home... give it time). I wish I could shut myself away in a dark space outfitted with a massive flatscreen TV, a well-stocked bookshelf, high speed broadband and an endless supply of Quality Street until the end of June 2010 (sob). I really would be doing the world a favour.
It's not entirely a surprise as Alpha and I have been trying for the past nine months or so. It's just a surprise that it happened at all, what with having to see a specialist and being given pills and being told that I have low something-or-other hormone with the possibility that my ovaries are close to shutting up shop for ever, despite me still being in my thirties. But we've got two rugrats already and feel fortunate to have them -Firstborn alone took two years to conceive - so it would have been sad but not a disaster. So very lucky us.
My last pregnancy was nearly six years ago, a long time in hormone world, and I'd forgotten about what being pregnant is like. Unfortunately I'm not one of those women who wafts through it all smiling smugly and glowing with floaty linen layers skimming over their 'designer' bump. I really wish I was one of those pregnancy paragons who can honestly say that they love being pregnant (as opposed to those evil women who lay claim to uber-mommyhood in a wicked attempt to intimidate others) but sadly I turn into a greasy, frizzy-haired, spotty lump with unexplained rashes, itchy skin, huge blue veins, unhealthy food cravings and strange pigmentation blotches (the one that could pass for moustache is a particular favorite of mine). I also get tired, nauseous and hugely grumpy. In short, I'm a nightmare. For nine months. And this time doesn't look like it's going to be any different.
Alpha is scared. The kids are beyond excitement (the harsh reality of Grumpy Mummy hasn't yet hit home... give it time). I wish I could shut myself away in a dark space outfitted with a massive flatscreen TV, a well-stocked bookshelf, high speed broadband and an endless supply of Quality Street until the end of June 2010 (sob). I really would be doing the world a favour.
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