I had my flu jab shortly after finding out I was pregnant. Now, I may be mistaken, but this manky thing I have is feeling distinctly like flu. Is that even possible? I hurt when I lie down so I get up, I hurt sitting up and so I go back to bed again. I must have sneezed fifty times in succession this morning and I've held down some rice cakes and noodles since Thursday lunch.
I don't want to write about how crap I feel. In fact, I was really hoping that I would write this week about how good I have been feeling. At the start of the week I was eating healthy, feeling totally human, wasn't so tired. It was all good. I wasn't quite there, but I had a sense that a 'glow' might actually be possible - I just didn't realise that within a few days it would be the end of my nose to my top lip glowing crimson. Pregnancy is just hilarious quite frankly. I spent seven to eight weeks with constant nausea and never once was I physically sick. Then a common cold has me losing my lunch. And let me tell you, being sick with no nausea is truly the strangest sensation in the world. I thought I was a hungry pregnant person before I got sick but now I'm positively ravenous! Speaking of, could really go a bacon roll. Hmm, bacon rolls.
Anyway, before I start salivating or go hunting for food in my unwashed grisly bear mode, I will tell you about a positive step this week. I went along to my first aquanatal class. After two months of relative inactivity as we sat tight and prayed my body would behave itself and stop having a strop over the appearance of a baby in my uterus, I was super keen to get back into exercising. The only activity I've seen since October has been the walk from my old office to the bus stop. For anyone who knows Edinburgh that hike is from the bottom end of Dundas Street to George Street. Not that I'd call it a workout when you're moving at the pace of a tortoise walking on eggshells.
Now, in my mind when I hear of aqua aerobics I picture OAPs at 10am on a Wednesday morning with their blue rinse 'dos' bobbing up and down to 'Sisters are doing it for themselves' or some other tune you'd only otherwise encounter on a Rosemary Connelly fitness DVD. Scary that I am acquainted with such things at my tender age, I know. However, it's not like I can mash the belly into a harness and go climbing so I thought I'd give it a shot. Let me tell you, this aqua fitness malarky is actually not quite as woose-tastic as it first sounds. I was particularly taken aback when the instructor shouted at us dozen or so out of breath belly laden people (and several bellies present there were within a week of their due to pop dates!) that it was 'Time to throw in the dumbbells!' What!!! Yes people, dumbbell shaped floatation devices that you force under the surface of the water and then manhandle in various directions under you. When we finally got a break I couldn't get my fingers to release from the damn handles. I had been squeezing with such force.
For all my horror at the necessary exertion though it was great to get some endorphins going. Even if I did eat and fall asleep pretty much immediately on getting home. It was an eye opener being around so many other pregnant ladies too. I couldn't help thinking 'man I'll never stretch that big, it's not possible'. I guess it probably is, but it's still mind boggling. I had high hopes of making it back to bendy stretchy this week but I didn't anticipate how difficult it would be to get a place in a belly-friendly yoga class! How many pregnant people are there in Edinburgh at any one time? I am on several waiting lists but finally was able to get a place to trial a class at Palmerston Place on Monday straight after work.
In my current chip I may not make it for this Monday, which will be a shame. Even if I can get back to the office, I wouldn't risk making other pregnant people sick. But it's going to be OK. For one thing, MC has kindly run out and provided me with non-sandpaper tissues to appease my poor nose. For another, I know I'm on my way to a glowing phase and getting my fitness back will be a part of it.
In the meantime I'm going to hide under the duvet until my face gets the message that Christmas is over.
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