The Happy Baby Project

A happy baby needs a happy mum


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Mo’ belly, mo’ problems

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I got 99 problems and lower back pain is definitely 1

So there I was at 30 weeks, proudly telling The Chef that my third trimester was my best, that I was feeling great, that I thought I’d “got away with it“, that pregnancy wasn’t all that bad really, actually it was fine, and maybe I could try it again after a short break.

But preggie symptoms change quickly don’t they? And when you’re least expecting them to…

….And so it came to pass that a mere two days later, there was me at 1am, on all fours, gritting my teeth as the tears flooded down my face in sheer agony and frustration at the pain shooting down my lower back and under my bump, which meant I could neither sit down nor lie down for more than a second in any one position, making sleep an impossibility. I tried a bath, the dream genii pillow and hot water bottle, and still I was only able to pace the room and try pelvic floor stretches until the wee hours, unable to get comfortable.

Two agonising, uncomfortable days later and a trip to the physio and my problem was diagnosed – my sacroiliac joint had popped out. Yup, just popped right out (its the joint between your pelvis and spine and isn’t really designed to “pop” anywhere). She said the injury was similar to those found in car crash victims.

CAR CRASH VICTIMS.

And yet when I came to work out how I’d done it, I reckon I managed to pop it out following an over-zealous hug from a friend’s toddler which, due to my new-found lack of balance, knocked me right over.

You know when you went backpacking as a teen, and tried to bend down to tie your shoelaces on a train platform, but the weight of your giant rucksack tipped you over so you ended up, beetle-like, pinned to the platform by your heavy bag, with legs in the air and unable to stand again? Well that’s about as co-ordinated as I apparently am now – the hug from a three year old is likely to pop my pelvis out of place.

But anyway the damn thing is back in now, and hopefully with some massage and TLC it will stay put. Unless, you know, I do something crazy like give someone a high five.

Which leads me to two new sources of panic:

1. If joint pain had me wailing uncontrollably, what on earth am I going to be like in labour? and

2. With all these worries, about nesting, about pregnancy back pain, about the birth, when am I actually going to have time to think about the most important thing – being a parent.

And when I think about the latter, the panic does set in a little. I’d been so distracted with ensuring my cot bumpers matched my nursery wall stickers, and that I was doing my pelvic floor exercises and hypno-birth CD, I’d forgotten to think about little things like – oh yeah – the fact that a small, crying, hungry thing is about to call me mummy for the next 18 years or so. A brief peak into what Gina Ford has to say about it all only served to scare me even more.

So in the 10 weeks I have left there’s some new things to think about – like breastfeeding, infant sickness, discipline, sleep routines, whether I would let them get a tattoo. I kind of liked it before when all I needed to think about was getting enough vitamins, and the latest offers at Mothercare.

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