I got a bit of a wake up call this week. After a visit to the GP which became an immediate call to my obstetrician and then a trip to the hypertension unit in the maternity hospital I’m finally admitting that, yes I’m heavily pregnant and might need to slow down a little.
I think it was the prospect of being kept in for observation or worse still developing preeclampsia that put the skids on me. Himself has made it his mission to ensure I relax (to the extent that he gave up a ticket to see his beloved Leinster win the semi final yesterday). It’s just, I’m just not very good at it; I prefer to keep both body and mind busy.
So I’ve borrowed some fiction books from my mum (I’d given up buying fiction myself as I just didn’t have the time) and promised to go to bed before eleven. The ole hypnobirthing programme is being dragged out and I’m determined to get beyond track 1, CD1.
At least we’re all sleeping now. The sleep plan first implemented two months ago has proved a resounding success. Crazypixie goes to bed at 7 wakes at 8 and naps for an hour during the day (fingers crossed it’ll last). Thank you Elizabeth Pantley.
But I do need some things to keep me occupied (besides looking after a wired 14 month old) so I’ve begun washing all the baby clothes and decided it’s time to pack a hospital bag. I’m pottering away at keeping the Protect Child Benefit site updated and working on developing my own site for summer launch (and bonding with Microsoft Expression in the process). And did I mention we put the house on the market last week, in the hope of moving to greener pastures?