The Alice

27 working days left until maternity leave – 12 weeks until baby day. Wahoo!

I get tired. Not just sleepy tired but physically exhausted tired. Stairs and hills are my nemesis – I can’t handle them and I’m sure I’ve pissed off many people by struggling up them. You can’t see I’m pregnant from my behind (and this is a good thing!) so I expect I get lots of dark looks from people walking behind me.

My feet have started swelling. There’s nothing unusual here and I have asked for advice from my doctor who has assured me it’s a combination of the warm weather/end of the day/third trimester. But it’s reeeeally unattractive and makes my feet hurt. None of my shoes fit any more!

My blood pressure is going up – again nothing unusual or alarming as I have low blood pressure normally. It was about 110/68 at my last appointment which is a raise of around 5 points. I will be keeping an eye on it but I have been certified by my doctor as safe to fly to Greece on Sunday!

Speaking of our trip, whilst we’re over then I plan on reading my birthing books and putting together some sort of birth plan. After that I guess the next step will be to pack my labour bag…

Baby has turned and she is now head down with her back on the right hand side. I felt a leg (or maybe an arm?) by my belly button earlier on this week and she is constantly poking her bum out at us. It’s nice to be able to feel where her back is, I think she likes us rubbing it.

I have put on 17lbs in total and now weigh 10st 7lb. Pretty good going – I lost a lot of weight last year going from a size 14 to a 10 and weighed more than that before I dieted! I think my metabolism is pretty speedy as I’m still fitting into my maternity 10’s and normal sized 12’s…

…which is great as I am SO HUNGRY. If It’s standing still I will eat it – I can’t get enough. Ravenous is the word I’m looking for. I’m trying hard not to feel guilty for the amount I’m eating – I feel so gluttonous! I had a footlong Subway for lunch as we’re eating at ‘botanical’ restaurant Saf tonight and I was worried about not getting fed enough. Greedy guts!

Zits. On my back. I don’t want to say anything else about these.

I have another cold and I literally can’t take any more of my stuffed up nose. One of these days I will photograph myself in my Breathe Right nighttime strips and you will realise what a good man Will is – waking up next to that face can’t be pleasant for him.

I’ve been forbidden from buying any more baby clothes; all that’s left to get now is a cot mattress, the BedNest, breast pump and microwave steriliser alongside a few bottles so Will can help out with feeding.

(Sidenote: I never thought I’d see myself buying paper knickers and what looked to me like puppy training pads. I’m going to love the day I put them under our sheets in case of my water breaking at night!)

* the outfit in the photo was due to the fact I felt so crappy yesterday – it was the closest thing I could get to wearing pyjamas to work  whilst still looking vaguely presentable. Plus it’s never too early for baby to wear her very first nightclub tshirt as she has the coolest music promoter daddy in the world.

My new badge will be making its debut on a rush hour Victoria line tube tomorrow…

Does age matter when it comes to having children?

I was Skyping with Will and my sister in law a couple of days ago, when the conversation turned to M.I.L.F.S. (as my mum has always been one). SIL mentioned how crazy it was that one of her friend’s mums is coming up to her 50th birthday, which at the age of 26 to her felt strange. My immediate reaction was also one of ‘crikey, she must have been young when she gave birth’, but after discussing it further we realised she would have been 24. As in my age. As in the age I will be when Baby H arrives (should she arrive on time – if she comes 4 days or more later I will be 25).

I was surprised at how much of a shock this was to me – I hadn’t thought far in advance to how old I would be when baby ‘grows up’.

I’ve already noticed a slight age difference between myself and the other mums-to-be in the waiting room at the hospital, and I imagine that I will notice this more and more when baby arrives. I fully expect to be one of the younger mums at baby groups and the school gates, especially within the area we live in. This doesn’t bother me at all as I’ve always felt slightly wise beyond my years (hah! – others may disagree) and some of my very best friends are older than me (hi, Su!). But will it make me a better mother?

I don’t think it will. I think it may make me a different kind of mother, but not a better one. I’ve been working for 7 years now and feel accomplished with my career so I don’t feel I’ve missed out in that respect, and I’m lucky enough to work in a sector that I’ll be able to keep in touch with from home. Will and I have been a couple for 7 years so I don’t feel that we need any more time as a couple before we bring children into our little family. I’ve never travelled, but I’ve never felt the need to – I much prefer holidays, infinity pools and good restaurants to backpacks and hostels! I’m slightly regretful that we don’t own a property in London, though with prices the way they are and no desire to move outside the city, who knows when this would have happened?

I hope my age will mean I’m energetic, fun and trusting of my instincts when bringing up our children.

How old were you when you became a mum (or a dad)? Do you think it was the right age for you?

The above photo is of Su, me and Will – it was snapped on my 21st birthday (we’d just attended a ball with my mum and dad and brother) and to say we were worse for wear is an understatement!

Christmas came early today with the arrival of our brand new pram.

We chose the Bugaboo Bee + at the Baby Show back in February as it seemed to suit our needs best; we needed a pram that can be easily carted around on buses, trains and tubes, one that’s compatible with a car seat and suitable from birth. Plus, I wanted it to look good. Will was so against the ‘yummy mummy’ cliche of a Bugaboo, but I won him over in a blind pram test (clever Alice).

We decided on Khaki as I thought the black was too black, yellow too impractical and pink incompatible with baby number 2 should we have a boy. Khaki is nice and neutral, plus as a bonus it matches my new Cowshed nappy bag!

Here it is, I am officially in yummy mummy territory:

It was surprisingly difficult to assemble, coming with Ikea-esque graphic instructions (I need words!) but I got there in the end.

We both love food. A bit too much sometimes… portion control is not our forte, but we are definitely one of those families who eat for pleasure rather than just nutrition. Every meal in our house is thought about and cooked with love for maximum taste – 90% of the time we make our scrambled eggs with double cream (naughty but so good) and stacks of black pepper and they’re always served with toast made from homemade bread. Our love of food is one thing I’m really looking forward to passing onto our kids.

Naturally, eating out is one of our favourite hobbies and one we indulged in a couple of times a week B.C. (before conception). These days not so much – for one thing I’m knackered in the evenings and would rather slump in front of the TV with a plate of home made grub and for another, we stay away from restaurants in the name of money saving. However, I’ve been advised by goodness knows how many mums to eat out as much as possible before baby comes as it won’t be so easy to do afterwards.

One massively memorable meal that will stay with me for a long time is when we went to L’atelier de Joel Robuchon, I was 8 weeks pregnant. It was a Friday night, my fatigue and sickness was unreal, but we had a friend over from Denmark who wanted to treat us and hello – 3 Michelin Stars! I would have crawled there if necessary (thankfully, it wasn’t, but it was a close call at times). I’m glad I went as I got to sample some truly marvellous food; quail with the tiniest taste of fois gras, pig trotter on parmesan toast, lamb cutlets and Robuchon’s famed truffle creamed potatoes. However, my stomach did not enjoy the experience having been fed nothing richer than plain pasta for the previous three weeks, and MAN was I jealous of the boys’ wine.

Then there was Nobu on New Year’s Eve where again I had to make an effort to keep my eyes open at the dinner table (I was home and in bed by 12.30am) and spent the day Googling ‘can pregnant women eat sushi’. Yes they can! But only a very small amount of tuna (mercury can be a risk).

When I got my appetite back it was the biggest relief – not being able to enjoy food was really one of the worst things that could have happened to me. I still get a bit sore that I don’t get to sip more than one small glass of wine, but that won’t be forever. For now, I’m happy to try and sample some more restaurants.

Last week I had the big treat of dining out with the wonderfully hilarious NotesToSelf . I realised shortly before meeting her that I barely visit restaurants without Will, so I really enjoyed some girl time and pregnancy gossip.

This Saturday I visited Jamie’s Italian at Canary Wharf with my three sister-in-laws and Will. I would recommend it to anyone; I was worried it might not compare favourably to Pizza East (which I love), but the food was surprisingly very different. Rustic, as Pizza East is, but in a different way. The pasta is all made on-site (I had wild mushroom, delicious) and their crispy squid flavoured with fennel seeds is to die for. I thought their Italian meat selection was really good value (though I couldn’t eat much of it, or the lovely looking buffalo mozarella) and their risotta balls… mmmmm.

When Baby H arrives I think it’ll be a challenge for us to dine anywhere other than home (or maybe Pizza Express) for a while so we really need to make the most of London’s restaurants in the next couple of months. I’d like to try:

- Caravan, Exmouth Market – this place had had such a great reception from the food blogging community, I really need to try it.
- Saf – I want to take some veggie friends of ours to this botanical restaurant.
- Centrepoint Sushi – I LOVE this place. Love love love.
- Hix Oyster and Chop House- I’ve never eaten here but always wanted to, it’s right next door to Will’s office.
- 32 Great Queen Street – we met friends here for drinks here a couple of weeks ago and the food looks awesome. This great review from London Eater clinched it.

My mouth is watering already….

- Firstly, I am so relieved to be at the 24 week viability stage! Especially after watching a particularly emotional episode of One Born Every Minute last week (there was a 23 week old baby in the neonatal unit). I feel like a weight has been lifted.

- My sleep has gone crazy again. I’ve had a couple of very late nights worrying (I’m afraid I have to blame this book – it had me concerned that we weren’t being frugal enough) and this morning I woke for the day at 5am having had a particularly vivid dream about zombies. Weird.

- My sinuses, oh my god. On a bad day I can’t wake up when I breathe and by the end of the day the pain has spread from my nose to my forehead and feels like an elastic band tightening round my brain. I am so sick of blowing my nose and earache!

- We took a trip to the hospital early last week (first time visiting the Labour ward!) because I felt like I’d pulled a muscle in my stomach overnight, and the following day I hadn’t felt any movements from Baby H at all. Of course as soon as we sat down in the waiting room baby started kicking, but we stayed to get checked out – anyway. There was a heartstopping couple of minutes whilst the midwife found baby’s heartbeat, but it was nice and strong after that. Baby has been kicking, punching, rolling and twisting ever since.

- I have a big bump! Finally! None of the miserable commuter bastards on my train noticed yesterday morning when I was feeling particularly exhausted and desperate for a seat, but I blame their tendency to avoid eye contact for that.

- My lower back still hurts pretty much all the time. The less said about the better (though I enjoy my nightly back rubs from Will).

- I have gone up 12lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight, which feels like a lot but I know is really quite average. I’m trying not to treat my mouth like a personal dustbin (I have eaten what I want, when I want ever since I got over the initial sickness) and am on a bit of a health kick. This means cereal for breakfast, mid-morning granola and yoghurt, salads for lunch and a healthy dinner. I’m still allowed my McDonald treats after my blood tests though… and pudding. And easter eggs.

- I’ve had a lot more bad moods (sorry Will, I love you for being nice to me even when I’m mean). I blame the lack of sleep and sinus pain.

- I have less than 10 working weeks left in the office. Not that I’m counting or anything…

I am so sick.

Sick of waking up every morning at 6am because I can’t breathe through my nose and my sinuses are screaming.

Sick of constantly worrying that the baby isn’t OK, that something bad will happen and it will all go wrong.

Sick of worrying that nobody will want to hire me freelance and I will have to go back to working in an office full time.

Sick of trying so so hard to organize our finances yet 7 year old bills coming back to ruin my week and make me feel like a naughty immature bad-with-money teenager.

Sick of caring that my thighs are getting bigger and I can see the beginnings of cellulite. It shouldn’t, and doesn’t, matter.

Sick of being tired.

And very very sick that I’m not able to make everything seem better with a couple of glasses of wine.

A belated post on Mother’s Day: though not technically a mother yet the day did not go unnoticed or uncelebrated.

It began with breakfast in bed and a couple of cards:

One from Will (with a soppy message that I won’t re-print as I don’t want to threaten his hard-man persona) and one from Baby H.

We then had a great day of lounging round in our pyjamas watching crap TV, Skyping the in-laws and de-cluttering our lives on to eBay. I believe we watched 8 episodes of Come Dine With Me (my favourite) before Will decided he couldn’t take any more and we had to switch to some Sky+ goodies.

It was a very good day.

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I’d also like to say Happy Birthday to my very own Mum – next year will be her first as a Grandma! She also had a good day today (I think) at the Rugby in Cardiff with Dad. Luckily the flowers I ordered for delivery today (doh) still found their way to their house despite them not being there. Here she is with Dad (looking like a massively camp snooker player or magician) at Christmas time:

Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM, I love you very much. You’re the best Mum in the world, and will be the best Grandma, too xxxx

Today I felt like baking, so whilst Will was stuck to the TV (rugby… alll day) I made some mess in the kitchen. This was the result:

Nigella’s Chocolate Fudge Cake – delicious. Not recommended for diabetics, dieters or chocolate haters. Definitely recommended for pregnant women!

There has been more of the drama llama in the H household this week.

As I am a clumsy elephant-footed type of person, I was very careful throughout the cold winter and slowly and carefully tiptoed in the ice and snow – no accidents. Goodness knows how I managed to fall over my own feet on Tuesday night and spectacularly hit the decks in front of a group of city boys by Old Street station. Ouch.

I went home for a remedial bath and some comfort eating, after an early night I thought I’d be fine. But the next morning I was having a few stomach twinges and I was convinced baby’s movements had slowed down. I went to my local GP where the not-so-kind receptionist made me cry, and with no appointments I hopped to the Maternity unit at the hospital.

One gruelling 2 and a half hour wait later (they lost my notes. Twice.) I saw a midwife and everything was deemed OK. I was sent home for bed rest (not before treating myself to a naughty McDonalds, shhhh I’d had a hard day) and felt very sorry for myself for the rest of the afternoon.

It was such a relief to hear that baby is OK – I really went through the mill emotions-wise at the time and felt so drained afterwards. This mothering stuff is hard!

Will came home with a lovely M&S meal of fishcakes, green beans and potatoes – yum. He totally surprised me with pudding and presented me with this:

For the last week I have been craving a banana split like my Dad used to make me when I was younger, but could not for the life of me find the ‘correct’ chocolate sauce (has to be dark chocolate!). Lovely lovely Will found the ingredients for me and surprised me with that masterpiece. It was delicious, I spilled it over my lap and didn’t care.