SPD and 9 weeks to go. (A rant from an angry pregnant woman) 

9 weeks. 

That’s all I have left of this pregnancy. Or 10 or 11 weeks. But not long, anyway. 

I’m going to need reminding of this fact constantly. 

Despite dreading the childbirth part so much it makes me come out in a cold sweat, I need this over with. I can’t deal with this pain anymore. 


Apparently now crutches are my only option. 

How exactly do you look after a toddler on crutches? How? 

You don’t. You can’t. It just isn’t possible. And I can’t just ‘leave the housework’. Don’t even say it. Who do you suggest does it instead? Trevor works about 648476363537 hours a week and has no choice. My family are miles away. They work too. Yes, I can ignore the dishes for a bit, but what happens when I run out of clean spoons and Iris demands a yoghurt? What happens when the dog hair has formed a kind of matted rug and you can’t see the floor anymore? 

How do you deal with toddler tantrums? Getting down to her level HURTS. Picking her up hurts too. Not doing these things hurts my heart. She needs me because she’s just a baby. Being a toddler is hard too. 

I’ve tried staying home and parenting from the sofa. It doesn’t work. Staying still hurts as much as moving. Iris gets cranky and the tantrums get worse. 

I’ve tried the painkillers I was prescribed. They make me so drowsy I don’t feel I can be responsible for a small human. The support belt doesn’t help. The exercises don’t help. The physiotheray appointment I had was a waste of space. 

So how on earth do I survive the next 9 weeks or so? 

The next person to suggest I’m depressed gets a punch in the face. I’m not depressed. I’m really SORE. 


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