I am thankfully writing this in retrospect. I didn’t realise how difficult the second pregnancy would be. Looking after a toddler, juggling home and work, and generally being a few years older took its toll. I had few symptoms in my first pregnancy (apart from the first trimester fatigue and nausea) but seemed to cop the lot this time – especially crippling back and pelvic pain. Fatigue dogged me every day, and my fitness level plummeted as I could barely manage to walk once a week. I ran a few times but gave this up at 23 weeks. I had nosebleeds and haemorrhoids. I couldn’t sleep at night.
I also started to grieve the loss of our cosy threesome, especially my one-on-one relationship with Star. My “last day” alone with her was bittersweet. I didn’t anticipate how much this would affect me.
Looking back, I regret not making an effort to have more time to myself. I worked extremely hard, trying to get everything wrapped up for maternity leave. I even took on an extra shift at the clinic. I should have taken a day to myself, once a week, to go for a walk or swim, go to yoga, have a nap.
Happily, at 38 and a half weeks, pregnancy came to an end with a relaxed elective Caesarian section, and our son (I’ll call him Owl) was born. More on that to come.
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