Tuesday, 20 November 2012
The impossible dream
Can we talk about pregnancy fitness for a moment? (she asks while heating up three (yes, three) butter croissants in the oven)
Before I fell pregnant (a term I love as it was like falling sick) I declared, more than once, I would be a fit preggo woman. I was determined to stay in my jeans and just use those button extenders/belly band things. I would keep running and doing yoga and this would make the unimaginable pain of labour a bit easier (all things being relative, so I hear) and we would have a healthy kid before it was even born. I would have to give up the half-marathon but, who are we kidding, I wasn't that into it anyway.
I just spit part of my croissant across the room laughing at myself.
As I said, this was before I fell pregnant and was immediately leveled by mourning sickness and incredible bloating. I naively assumed the body gently worked its way into pregnancy and I had time to get used to the idea of being inhabited by something eventually the size of a watermelon.
Almost immediately after those lines showed up on those sticks (because I took more than one test, just to be sure, who doesn't?) I was sick and bloaty. Now sure, I have in the past made myself sick purely through mental stress and anxiety (hello, PhD viva and almost any job interview) but I have never made myself, or even heard of, bloating caused by mental anxiety. This was unbearable. Only six, maybe seven, weeks gone and I can't fit into 90% of my trousers and jeans!!!!!
Needless to say, I wasn't running anymore. If I could make it out of bed it was a good day and if I only had one conference call with the toilet it was a great day!
Cue everyone telling me to get some fresh air and take a walk. It took all I had to not throw the nearest toilet roll at them.
I'm now 17 weeks gone and the sickness is gone and yoga is regular once again but those jeans aren't seeing the light of day again for a long, long time. I can't torture myself, it's just too mean. I've only 'gained' a few pounds but all the muscle in my thighs and bum is gone and the cellulite has returned. So much for being a fit preggo lady.
Two nights ago I dreamt about a midwife/scan appointment. It was drawn out and a lot was going on but the one 'test' I remember watching them perform was to suddenly poke a pregnant woman's bladder (from outside, just a short jab to the belly, you know, nothing invasive) and measure how much urine she released. Of course, they gave no warning of this test and I watched two women flood the floor before I woke up.
My fitness goal now is to not pee my pants when I sneeze. Pie in the sky, I know, but it's all relative.
Pelvic Floor Muscles: 5 Sneeze: 2
Not too shabby but definite room for improvement.