While I’ve spared you some of the most bizarre, pregnancy-related lady garden weirdness, I can’t keep quiet any longer about my ridiculous bladder.
One day last week I went nearly 22 times. I counted, because it was so ludicrous.
I can be standing in a shop feeling fine, only for the chicklet to think it would be really funny to bunji-jump directly onto mama’s bladder. And suddenly, the pain of needing to go is immense. You MUST find a loo at any cost, and when you do, nothing comes out. Well, if you’re lucky, enough to fill a teaspoon.
HA HA HA HA FUNNY JOKE BABY. VERY FUNNY NOT.
He does it to me all the time and sometimes if I’m at home I can bend over a table and rock around and move him off my bladder, but bending over bus stop seats or park benches or cafe tables is really not the done thing in public. We pregnant ladies can get away with a lot, but performing impromptu half-arsed downward dogs in the hope you can avoid a teaspoon toilet stop are not part of the deal.
So you end up finding a loo and nothing happening and washing your hands and exiting the loo only to feel like you DESPERATELY NEED TO GO AGAIN as soon as you leave the ladies.
Don’t get me started on nighttime. It’s really super fun going every hour on the hour, especially when you don’t actually need to go, it’s just your cheeky unborn baby playing silly buggers with your bladder. Oh lookit, Mama’s asleep again! Now would be a really great time for me to press my foot/head/butt/entire body into her bladder. And maybe jiggle it around for ten minutes.
From what I hear, all this toilet nonsense – particularly the nighttime toilet nonsense – is Mother Nature’s way of giving you a head’s up on what life will be like in ten weeks, and getting you used to getting up and down at all hours of the day and night to breastfeed, soothe, cuddle, pat, read to, check on, play with and sing to what may be a very sleep-challenged bubba. Which is great and all, but chicklet? Be a good boy and let your mama sleep while she still can.