Fat Kat

Had my initial midwife appointment yesterday and it did not go according to plan.
The first annoyance I encountered is that on my forms the estimated due date is completely different to the one my doctor had told me so where I thought I was 10/11 weeks gone I am actually only 8 weeks and due at the beginning of April. I know that this will change again when I have my scan and they can give a more accurate due date. My scan, however, has been booked in for the 26th September. 4 weeks away!!!!

I was preparing myself to go public with my news next week but now I have to wait another 4 weeks. I just don't think I can fake anymore reasons not to drink or have any fun!
In all honestly I really want people to know so that I can publicly moan about my morning sickness and why they shouldn't blow smoke in my face.

Anyway this was only the start of my annoyance and the disastrous visit. The second point is that, although I have been working bloody hard to lose weight through boot camp three times a week, my BMI of 33 still puts me in the category of obese. So, in the midwife's words, "you will have to see the lady we call the 'fat' midwife who takes care of the larger ladies". Great thanks for that! Then she hands me a leaflet titled "Obesity in pregnancy" which basically lists all the things that can go wrong because of my weight, it’s an upbeat piece of literature.

So moving on from this we come onto depression. I have suffered mild depression recently and was put on mild medication which did help. I gave up the medication on discovering I was pregnant at the say so of my doctor. Although I highlighted that I have been feeling fine my husband rolled his eyes and points out my erratic mood swings. Those of you who have been pregnant know very well that erratic mood swings are a very normal part of the pregnancy process and is caused from ridiculous hormones, not depression. The midwifes however do not want to take any chances and want me to see a specialist just to be sure. Great!

So with the weight, depression and my husband’s family medical history (which by the way is the same from my first pregnancy) I have been instructed that I am classed as high risk and therefore have to go on consultant led care. This means instead of visiting the midwife I have to see a consultant at the hospital on a more regular basis. In my opinion it is all very unnecessary.

So today in the cold light of day I am debating if I should just share my news anyway. It is causing me so much anxiety and doesn't seem worth it. If something goes wrong (touch wood) I would rather have the support of people I know rather than try to hide that too,
Also, I am on a strict healthy diet as of today and although I had to give up the boot camp this week (it was just too hard during pregnancy) I am going to get back on my cross trainer at least three times a week. I am determined not to feel like a frumpy fat person this time. I want to have a cute bump and lose weight on my face. I can do this, plus it would be better for the baby if I wasn't obese. God that term is really horrible isn't it, and it always conjures images of that huge lady that had to be air lifted out of her house (which is not what I look like by the way).

So I write this still pondering my final decision to share my news or not. If you are reading this on the 31st August 2011 then I decided to go public. If you are reading this on the 26th September 2011, however, I bottled out.

K
xxx

The Kat wanted a dog

A very unexpected scenario has played out over the last two days surrounding a chocolate Labrador puppy that I have not even met.
I had always wanted a dog especially since the family dog died quite a few years ago in a Marley and me fashion. It was all very sad and Abbie, my black, rather old Labrador had to be put down. As both my husband and I worked full time we thought cats would be better suited to our lifestyles. So for a birthday gift one year I was given two, very cute, black, Siamese cross bred kittens that I still have today.

About a year ago my husband landed a job where he consulted as a financial adviser and worked mainly from his home office. We quickly realised this situation meant we could in fact have a dog. It was decided that we should wait until the cats died before we did that. Our cats are now 8 and still have plenty of life left but I am getting very impatient.
Our current lives and situation is screaming out for a dog. We regularly take long walks in large woodland areas, holiday in places where dogs are allowed and have a very pet friendly home.

My daughters 4th birthday is approaching and a dog is all she asks for. Then yesterday during conversation it transpires that my friend's dog walker has two chocolate Labrador puppies that he has to home separately. She explained that obviously he would need to meet us and maybe spend some time with the family to make sure we could give him a good home. Of course the dog had to like us too!
Speaking to my husband, who is usually the impulsive one, he listed out the practicalities and pointed out that with a baby on the way this really wasn't a good time.

Overnight I seem to have really latched onto the idea. Today I tried various blackmailing techniques to persuade my husband like sending him pictures of what he probably looks like and I even put a proposal together about how we would manage and afford him.

...It didn't work. I am now admitting defeat and cannot justify getting a new pet if the whole family doesn't want one. Heartbroken doesn't even begin to cover it and my husband is banned from talking about it.

It is probably for the best but is there ever a right time for a dog?

Letting the cat out of the bag

This blog may come as a shock to some as my pregnancy is not yet common knowledge. I have had ups and downs trying to hide such an obvious secret.

It all began last month when the 2 week headache became unbearable so I decided I had to see a doctor. The day before a male friend made a remark that I was obviously pregnant. I laughed it off as it could not possibly be that. My plans were to have a second baby next year. I have a big party planned in October for my 30^th and it was going to be the party of the century. Then I was struck with a drunken memory of a few weeks previous. Yes, there definitely was a careless moment... shit!

So the test was positive, as were the second and third tests. I saw the doctor the next day and suddenly I am booked in with a midwife and it is actually happening again.

So the rule of thumb is that you shouldn’t tell anyone until after your scan at about 3 months. The theory is that the first 3 months are crucial and the risk of miscarriage is exceptionally higher. So I told family and one or two close friends. The estimate is that I am about 2 months gone but I am filling out a stupid pace. I am already struggling to fit into my work trousers. This is not good when I am trying to keep it quiet. I resign myself to the fact that people probably just think am getting fat. I am meeting the midwife next week who will give me my scan date.

I have attended seven events since finding out my news, seven events where alcohol is present and I am expected to consume large quantities. The ‘I’m on antibiotics’ did not go down well, and the ‘I have to drive’ excuse is wearing thin. People really want me to drink. I’m starting to think that maybe I am a bit dull sober!!!

There is also the smoking situation. I have quit under the guise of ‘it’s about time as I approach 30’. It is a struggle though and I am still sneaking the odd cigarette. I have been assured that this is not too bad and that stress can cause more harm to an unborn baby. I am working on it!

My 4 year old daughter also knows my big secret. As soon as I told her I did think it was a bit silly and probably wouldn’t remain a secret for long. So far she has not dropped me in it. She is so excited and refers to the bump as her brother. I hope she won’t be too disappointed if it’s a girl. She has also asked me daily if her brother is ready to pop out yet! I think this is going to be a very long 9 months!

The stress of keeping this quiet is probably much harder than the morning sickness I am suffering from. Only a few more weeks and I can finally ‘let the cat out of the bag’.