Week 8 of The Pregnancy Diaries – Off to the Races

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I know I shouldn’t be wishing my life away but I really want it to be 12 weeks already. I need to know everything is fine! to hear that little heartbeat on the screen (every time I go to the loo I make a silent wish for everything to be OK).

I’ve never been particularly patient but my patience seems to be at an all-time low.

Despite my whining, Chris won’t let me spend on a private scan. I know it is ultimately money that could be spent for something else, but I still want it.

The only way to make time to go faster is to stay busy. I’m determined to not let my fatigue and heat slow me down. As a result, we had another fairly eventful week.

Date Night

I know that your priorities and time pressures will change but date night has to stay. Chris and I both work hard and it is great to have time set aside for each other. It is something we’ve kept up since the start of our relationship. It can be all too easy to slip into bad and lazy habits.

We try to go somewhere different each week. This week was Italian, yum! 🙂 I have a new love for lemon sorbet it seems. I’ve had it twice this week and have even stashed a tub in the freezer. I find it instantly refreshing, despite not experiencing the sickness nor metallic taste in my mouth like many other pregnant women.

Ascot

I have to admit that I’m really not a fan of the horses. I don’t want to go into the pros and cons of horse racing but I’m not a fan of it, particularly jump racing. It doesn’t matter how many people tell me that the horses enjoy it, I know I wouldn’t enjoy being forced to sprint along a field.

Anyway, it was another hot sunny day. The train from Clapham was particularly crowded and we were with a lot of people who weren’t aware of our situation. Luckily, everyone was so squeezed onto the train no -one noticed me flash my badge at some poor unsuspecting man and asked him to give up his seat. That little badge is definitely an upside of being a pregnant commuter.

The day was pleasant, I stuffed my face with picnic food, was so tired fell asleep on the grass and managed to make it through the day with no-one asking why I wasn’t drinking- I think boys are pretty oblivious. I don’t think next week’s wedding will be quite so easy to navigate with all the wives and girlfriends there too.

Can I Have My Crab Well Done?

In the evening, we headed back to Clapham. I really wanted Nandos, which was the agreed plan. Previously I thought Nando’s was pretty naff, basically unexciting fast food. Now I can’t get enough. However, it wasn’t to be. Nandos was full, as was the nice Italian. Consequently we ended up at the slightly more shit Italian next door.

Navigating the menu was a nightmare. All I really wanted was bland, carby food. In the end I settled on some king prawn and crab gnocchi. I asked the question can I have my crab well done, not wanting to take any chances on some half cooked crab claw ending up on my plate and having to make an excuse not to eat it. I think women with big pregnant bellies definitely have it easier in some senses. People automatically give up their seat, and I imagine to accommodate such culinary requests.

Me asking for well cooked crab seemed to rub him up the wrong way. But really him getting agitated doesn’t outweigh any potential risks to me or the baby. What was worse was I couldn’t even say anything to defend myself as we were with a friend who was clueless to the situation, and didn’t really feel like telling him at this precise moment.

At the end of the meal we were pointedly made aware of a 20% off voucher on the receipt. I made a small silent stand and left it right where my plate had been sitting, I will not be returning to this place where the food was tasteless and the manager’s arrogance outweighs their customers requests.

…and thanks for stopping by. I thought I would introduce us; myself (Jo) and my boyfriend Chris. We’ll both be uploading our innermost thoughts and musings over the next phase of our lives which we hope is a very happy one. Welcome to our world x

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