Recently A lovely blogger (Honest Mum) pointed to my attention, after an angry tweet I made about ”bump” comments, a post she had written on ”Bump Feelers and Baby Holders”

Last pregnancy I was posting every little detail on my Facebook page, from 14 weeks, after our first scan it was ”baby baby baby” this time I can’t help but feel overly protective over my little unborn bubs, probably to the benefit of many of my Facebook followers, they already have to hear every little thing i get excited about concerning my 14 month old. Im probably unfollowed on the news feed by all without children for posting such mundane comments about how well my little man has eaten, or slept or behaved. Poor friends. I would apologise but its doubtful if in the same situation they’d present themselves any differently- overly excited about their kids. 

I have posted bump pics on my instagram and twitter, where i feel is a less invasive crowd. 

But less about what I have posted/not posted/kept secret. eg. no scan pictures have been shared.  And more about what people expect you to share?

When did pregnancy become such an open forum for people to air their views, demand to know details and touch you whenever they feel it’s appropriate. (THE ANSWER IS IT NEVER IS. GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF).

There’s no need for me to be polite about it, I don’t want touched, pregnancy doesn’t make me glow, or beam or be joyous 24/7 it just makes me even more crazy than I already am with  a regular dose of female hormones. 

Now there’s a need to know when your scans are, when you’ll be sharing pictures of it, when you’ll be telling people the sex, what names you want to call him/her, what you’re doing about feeding, what you’re doing about birthing and pain relief—–> (for me the answer is always going to be a c-section and I don’t care if you think its wrong, i’m not at liberty to cause myself unnecessary pain when I have a choice not to push something (————————) that big out of something (-) natural or wonderful as it may be. Not for me) 

Anyway, a friend of mine has found herself in a position where her mother in law, whom she doesn’t particularly LOVE, or relate to, or do anything other than what she has to with, wants to be in the delivery room, she wants to watch the birth, and give the baby its first bath. Your own mother you can say look f**k off and leave me be, it’s my baby, but someone else’s mother firstly you don’t want to look at your innermost private parts, nor do you want them to see you in such a compromised position, nor do you want to be invaded and have such a wonderful time imposed upon by relatives who deem themselves essential in the birth. Well here is the truth, you are not an essential part, its mum, dad and baby who are important, you are an afterthought, suck it up. If you are lucky enough to be such an integral part of the family as a grandparent then you are blessed to witness such a thing, but you certainly can’t invite yourself. And you certainly can’t upset a pregnant lady ever, its a law. an unbreakable one. 

For me, i’m preferring people to get off my bump, in fact there’s not even any need to comment on its size. I won’t be happy when you tell me how big I am, i will be picturing your head in a giant roasting oven. No body wants to hear how big they’re getting, in fact i might mention the next time you have one big mac too many see how you feel.

I am also keeping the name secret, at my own perogative, this time we want it all under wraps. I want to shelter my little bubs and not imagine it’s here yet and the names a bore by the time it comes around, no I want it all exciting and new just like the baby itself.

We have even decided that no one, not even grandparents will be aware of the delivery date. Luckily with a c-section a preplanned date and time are arranged, but this is a luxury, we’d rather not be bombarded with wonders about where the baby is and how is is, we’ll let people know when we have done enjoying those first precious few moments. The only person will be my childcare arrangements, my auntie, until the baby is here. 

And the most horrifying detail, is that I won’t be allowing a single hospital visitor except my son. I’m determined to be in one night only, (last time had two) If anyone is so impatient they can’t wait one day until we’re home then they’re being silly. 

So for all the pregnant women out there, i’m doing it, i’m taking back control and i am in charge! My way or the highway. Privacy all the way. and its about time.


33 weeks: Third trimester drag

33 weeks in, and until now, with having another baby at home, (13 months) it has seemingly flown by! First time around it was so slow! I remember waiting and waiting and now I can’t believe that thanks to a pre-planned c-section that we have 6 weeks to go!

In the interval between pregnancies as well as throughout my first pregnancy I have suffered with Iron Deficiency Anaemia. With seriously critical levels of both Haemoglobin and Ferritin, last time round i managed to take the ferrous sulphate tablets but this pregnancy nothing is that simple. After trying all of the oral formulas, ( tablet and liquid ) and failing—–> seriously debilitating side effects. The doc decided I could have the iron done intravenously, BEST THING EVER. I felt instantly replenished, despite the lengthy process of finding a viable vein, the feint attack from low blood pressure and the long wait. I recommend it to anyone having difficulty taking the oral forms of the medicine.

Thought i’d do a quick database of this week in the third trimester, home stretch!

How far along? 33 Weeks and 3 days

Weight Gain: 45 POUNDS!!!!!! 3 stone and 3 pounds.

Wardrobe: Leggings all the time!!! No maternity clothes here though! Refusing to buy any based on odd pride.

Food Cravings: Ice lollies, and ice cubes and soda and REESES PEANUT BUTTER CUPS.

Gender of little fetus: Another boy

Labour Signs: Plenty of braxton hicks, not that i’m at all keen to start yet!

Stretch Marks: NONE !!!!

Here’s something funny about the third trimester i found on a baby center blog! I am re-blogging.



The third trimester is a whole new game. Just when I mastered this whole pregnancy thing I was hit with the third trimester, and everything went down a big dark hole. There are hundreds of reasons why you know you’re pregnant, but what about the crazy changes of the 3rd trimester? I feel like they deserve their own post…

You know you’re in the 3rd trimester when

  • Picking up a sock off the ground requires preparation and thought.
  • There are crumbs on your belly that you don’t notice until you stand up.
  • There are crumbs in your cleavage that you don’t notice until you change.
  • You’re afraid to laugh or sneeze too hard (you know why…)
  • People look at your belly before your face.
  • You buy new big-girl panties.
  • You get mad that Nordstrom is at the other end of the mall from Macy’s.
  • You consider getting into the car to drive from Nordstrom to Macy’s.
  • Heartburn visits you before, during, and after every meal, regardless of what you eat.
  • You’re full in 10 bites or less.
  • Maneuvering a mirror around your belly to see if you have any stretch marks becomes a daily pastime.
  • You break a sweat walking from the car to the door.
  • You wish someone would offer you a ride from the car to the door.
  • Exercise equals getting up from the couch to fill up your water glass.
  • After picking up a few socks you decide that from now on you’ll leave anything that falls to the floor exactly in its place until your husband comes home to pick it up for you.
  • You select your shoes based on which would be the easiest to put on.
  • You stop wearing your rings in fear of the swelling you know is soon to come.
  • Rolling over in bed is a task that requires counting out loud. 1,2,3 GO!
  • You stare at the cute baby clothes in the nursery at least 5 times a day.
  • You panic about not having the nursery completely ready.
  • You forget what life was like before you fell in love with the baby in your belly.

🙂 Thats all for now!