I hit the dreaded number today....

The big 3-oh. Dirty thirty.

You know, when I was 15 and thought about who I'd be when I turned 30, this was not what I thought life would be like. I don't feel 30. Well, today in particular I feel 50, because this spawn of the debil (aka the future ruler of the world as we know it) growing inside of me is still giving my guts a hard time; but in general I don't feel thirty.

Like for example, I was a little bit disappointed that I was having a 'zero' birthday and couldn't get write-myself-off schnockered. I was a little disappointed that I didn't have a million and one Facebook messages from people I barely knew saying the obligatory "Happy birthday!" I felt a little inadequate, that I organised a dinner in a nice quiet restaurant, for 10 people.

I look back at photos of me in my early 20's and wish to Bacon that I'd seen how gorgeous I appear to my now 30 year old self. I think about the masses of friends I had back then and compare them to the few good friends I have now and wonder where they went. I look back to the times that I used to be able to hit the clubs until 4am but still wake up at 8am feeling like I could take on the world and wonder what the hell happened to that chick.

Then it hits me. I really AM 30.  Because none of those things really matter to me anymore. Suddenly having 'drinking buddies' became less important than having friends you could cry with over a loss of a child.  Having a quiet night in instead of a massive party where I have to clean up vomit & dread the photos being uploaded to the internet is kind of, well, a relief.

It's just funny how priorities change & you don't even see it happening really. How life goes on and it's not until you stop and go 'holy snapping duck shit, where the HELL did the last 10 years go and who am I?'

I loved that today, I got to wake up to the love of my life, who made me a quiet breakfast then we played with our dog. I loved that I didn't have to worry about being a host to a 100 people who were probably just going to get drunk and trash my house anyway. I loved that I am starting a family and my thoughts have been on buying baby things rather than alcohol.

I think the main thing I've learnt today though, is that growing older isn't a bad thing. There was a lot of bad shit that happened to me in my 20's. I wouldn't be the person I am today without it happening, but it wasn't fun to experience and you couldn't pay me enough to go back to those years & do it again. Why do we as a society (in general) fear getting older? Why was I clinging on to the fact that I'm not the person I was 10 years ago? I like who I am now. I feel like I'm a completely different person to the woman I was only a year ago.

And that's ok.

Don't get me wrong, I still wish I could have a night of party & not pay for it for 3 days afterwards, but the other stuff that comes with getting older is so much more worthwhile.

So happy 30th birthday to me. This year I genuinely feel like I am actually another year older & another year wiser.

Cheers,
Qld Nurse

So this pregnancy gig is hard....

I read a blog the other day about the lies we tell each other as women. How we say we love being pregnant, that you forget how much labour hurts, that your body will snap back etc....

.......and what a crock of horseshit it is.

I almost high-five'd the screen. Then I cried. I do that now.

I'm almost 20 weeks pregnant. Almost half way. And I can tell you right now, it's been the longest 5 months of my life. I feel shit. I'm still spewing at least once a day. When I'm not spewing, I feel like I'm going to spew at any second. I'm exhausted ALL the time. Everything hurts. EVERYTHING. Including my teeth & gums because I'm pretty sure the stomach acid is eating them both away. My boobs have a mind of their own as do my tear ducts. Any form of exercise makes my stomach turn, and yes, for those thinking it, that does include sex. Just to give you an idea, I've spent today in my pyjamas alternating from the couch to the bed, all with a vomit bag in handy reach and a box of tissues to wipe the snot streaming out my nose because I'm crying so hard. That's been my day off, and I promise you that it's not a one-off.

I don't feel radiant. I feel sweaty, fat, sick and a little bit over this whole pregnancy thing. You know the 'pregnancy glow' people talk about? Yeah, well mine is either a layer of sweat from heaving, or if you're lucky it could be a little leftover throw up. THAT'S my pregnancy glow fucker. And to add insult to injury people keep saying to me 'wow! you're not even showing yet!' which I take to mean 'gosh you were so fat before that even with the weight you've lost you just look the same now.' Cue tears. So now I'm crying as well as sweaty, fat & sick with possible vomit in my hair or forehead. Sexy right? I have no idea how my husband controls himself, I really don't. A weaker man for sure, would crumble.

It started with fertility treatment - that made me vomit, cry every day for 3 weeks, gave me abdominal cramps like period pain having period pain & all round made me feel like shit. But it worked! I got pregnant! There was a whole 3 or 4 days where I was feeling amazing. Like my husband and I were the smartest people alive & there was absolutely no one in the world who ever got pregnant before us. That the pain had been worth it, because we were now growing a human.

Then the spewing started. And get this - I was happy. HAPPY. Because it meant the baby was alive. Having suffered a miscarriage, I was pretty keen to have any notice from the parasite living within me, that it was in fact, still sucking the nutrients from my body.

That happiness lasted about a month. Hell, it was even a running joke that my feet would hit the floor in the morning & the gagging would start. We laughed, and laughed & I would throw up from laughing too hard. The cleaner at work busted me singing the song of my people one morning & it became a new way for us to bond. It was funny.

Then it stopped being so funny. "It will get better after the first trimester" they told me. "It eases, it really does" they said. Then the 1st trimester came & went. 8 FUCKING WEEKS AGO ARE YOU LISTENING BABY?!?

Then "well mine ended around the 15-16 week mark". Well see ya 16 weeks. It's now almost 20 fucking weeks. 5 months of never knowing when I may just perform a multi-colour yawn wherever I happen to be at that particular time. 5 months of not going out to dinner because I may as well just straight up flush $50 down the toilet. 5 months of getting excited when I don't spew one day only to make up for it and spew ALL day the next day.

You add into that, the fact I do 12 hour shifts & I'm a mess. I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm a god damn mess. Call it hormones, call it exhaustion, call it me being a first class whinger whatever. I'm over it.

And I feel so guilty about feeling over it. SO guilty and ungrateful. If I lost this baby I would be inconsolable for sure. I wanted to raise a kid so badly & when I thought I couldn't have kids it devastated me. That's the key though isn't it? I didn't want to be pregnant, I wanted a child. I wanted to raise a family. Pregnancy is just  (one of) the ways to do that.

So I've decided today that I'm just going to wallow for a little while & stop feeling guilty about it. Because I don't want to be pregnant, I want to have a child. I want other women who feel like shit, to be able to come right out and say "you know what, I hated being pregnant too!" I'm not going to lie to people and say that I love this. I don't. I fucking hate it. I hate being pregnant. There. It's said.

When my midwife puts this baby on my chest for the first time, I'm sure it will all be worth it. Right now though, right now I'm going to sit here, bitch & moan, and not feel guilty about it. So there baby.

Cheers,
Qld Nurse.