For all of you mamas out there who struggled with the first trimester, please take solace in the fact that there are happier, funner, fatter and easier times ahead! At almost twenty-one weeks I feel like I have finally (kinda’ sorta’) gotten used to the […]
Month: September 2018
It has been far, far too long between posts for my liking. Far too long. Since I last posted, Pete and I have had another scan where we found out the gender of our beautiful bubba. We have made the decision to keep that information between ourselves and our families (for now, at least); I have always been one to share absolutely everything with anyone and everyone, however I have to admit that it feels really special and intimate to keep that little something just for us. Having said that, the scan went really well and we have a very healthy child and apparently, a very tall one! To celebrate the news, we went out for pizza and watched The Predator because nothing says YAY FOR THE GENDER REVEAL like carbohydrates and big-ass space creatures.
Pete and I are right in the thick of a very busy period, and we are actually handling it a lot better than I thought we would. I am definitely getting bigger and things are becoming just that little bit more difficult (things like bending down, breathing, etc.), and it has definitely forced me to slow down. I have also found that my body has become increasingly sensitive and definitely favours routine. Since falling pregnant I have really tried to have five small meals a day as opposed to a breakfast, lunch and dinner. You will find very similar advice when you begin to research morning sickness remedies. Smaller meals keep your metabolism working and will also ensure that you don’t feel bloated, and, something else I just learned, it is great to get your stomach used to smaller meals because as your bubba gets bigger, the space in your stomach (obviously) decreases. I will generally have granola or muesli and fruit for breakfast, followed by some corn thins with various toppings on it a few hours later, a small lunch, a snack after lunch and then dinner (which I try and keep as light as possible as well).
Last week at work we were in meetings all day Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I thought nothing of it, really, however by the time I got home on Friday I could definitely feel the effects of the week take their toll on my body. All day meetings are tough on the body regardless of whether one is pregnant or not – the constant sitting in the same position, breathing the stale air, the mental exhaustion of paying attention for hours on end. What I found really difficult though was the deviation from my regular eating regime. It really threw me.
My ‘thing’ with this pregnancy has been low blood pressure. With only a lunch break scheduled during the meetings last week, I felt incredibly light-headed, my heartbeat became irregular and I became extremely hot and disorientated. I made sure that I drank lots of water and, in hindsight, I am sure that if I asked to let myself out to grab something quickly, it would have been fine; but by simply not keeping my food and sugar intake regular, my body started to shut down. By Thursday afternoon, I felt wrecked. Walking to my car I felt sick and incredibly anxious. This wasn’t a state of being hangry, this was something else altogether.
Small. Meals. Are. Key. Heed my advice, ladies.
I am now pretty big and I am really having to get used to the way my body now moves. For example, we were on our way to visit Shari and Jay the other day and my phone was in my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat. It started ringing. I could not bend down and reach it in time before the ringing stopped. It is pretty cute that my belly now precludes me from doing simple things like bending over, but it is something that I forget before trying. I dropped a pen in last week’s meetings and I audibly groaned when I leaned over to pick it up. Getting up off the lounge now requires several movements as opposed to one swift motion from sitting to standing, and don’t even get me started on how attractive I look when I roll out of bed. I can’t sit comfortably in the park, on a picnic blanket for lunch with my work colleagues anymore either, so have obviously forced them to sit at a bench instead like the civilised people we are. I am definitely feeling the extra weight of my expanding belly; where morning sickness was a (sometimes not so) nice little everyday reminder that I was pregnant, the physical changes are also a constant reminder of the wonderful little human inside of me. While it has been challenging and I often find myself saying out loud, “Yep, okay, can’t do that anymore”, it has also been really amazing to figure out the new ways my body is moving and getting me around.
Not only that, but another perk of what is now Week 19 is that bubba is gaining some serious strength and the kicks are just magical/phenomenal/everything/lovely/amazing. Pete is able to feel them really clearly now which I love because it is a part of the pregnancy that I can now share with him. We were also told at the ultrasound that our baby is exceptionally active (our two hour appointment attests to that fact as they couldn’t get any clear images of bubba due to all the movement). I can also second this opinion. Since last week, bubba has not stopped moving. I am constantly getting kicked and prodded and I absolutely love it (I don’t care how often I go on about it, it is heavenly).
OH, oh oh! Another thing that I have found, now that I am showing, people feel the need to constantly say the following things at me:
- “OOOOHHHHH a FEBRUARY due date? HAVE FUN IN SUMMER *sarcastic laugh*”
- “You can have as much as you want – you’re eating for two! HA HA HA”
- “You can have as much as you want – you’re drinking for two! HA HA HA”
- “Wow, really? You’re only nineteen weeks?! You’re big aren’t you?”
- “Parenting is SO HARD”
- “CHILDBIRTH IS SO HARD”
- “Everything is so hard”
My advice? Ignore everyone and buy yourself a slurpie.
Pandy “PJ” Wallis is a renowned writer whose novels about a young woman making her way in Manhattan have spawned a series of blockbuster films. After the success of the Monica books and movies, Pandy wants to attempt something different: a historical novel based on […]
I have always loved my boobs. Always. I am very blessed and incredibly grateful for the generous chest that I have had since I was eleven (seriously). Though there are times where smaller breasts would be amazing (i.e. strapless bras, low cut tops, backless dresses, etc.), I have always been deeply thankful of my curves.
Having said that, bra shopping has never been a fantastic experience for me. So often I walk through the aisles of Myer looking at all the sexy, colourful, lace bras only to find out that they are only available up to a D-cup. To find a bra that fits and actually supports me, I have to migrate over to the beige section of the intimates department and decide which shade of nude looks best on me. The only lingerie that has ever looked and felt sexy on me, for my size, were bras from Honey Birdette (actually, Eloise Monaghan, if you are reading this can you please expand into maternity bras? Please? Preferably within the next four months. Thanks!). I felt like an absolute goddess in them, and I am sure I would still if they fit me right now. But your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill bra has never been something I have enjoyed buying.
Add four and a half months of pregnancy to my body and what we have, ladies and gentlemen, is a size 12F bust and growing.
Up until yesterday, I was still swanning around in my $8 Kmart bra – which I would strongly advised against because it hurt my back and my breasts just looked so overwhelmingly large and unsupported and wrong. I looked bigger than I actually was and really disproportionate.
I finally made the time to go to Myer and get fitted by a professional. There were some beautiful Chloe & Lola maternity bras that my fitter walked straight past until we were, once again, standing in front of a wall of beige. She pulled a few different brands and sizes off the shelf but I somehow knew that perhaps the most unattractive one was what was going to fit me best.
And it was. And I couldn’t care less what it looks like.
I bought the ‘Lace’ Triumph Maternity Wirefree Bra in nude and black. It fits perfectly, the straps over my shoulders are wide, the wirefree band around my waist doesn’t hurt at all and my boobs aren’t resting just below my chin like they have been for the past few months. My back is the happiest it has been since I fell pregnant and I look much more like myself now that my boobs aren’t spanning to my underarms. My old bra was also causing me a lot of pain and heartburn and indigestion because the underwire would dig into my belly.
My fitter was a sweet, older lady who was also incredibly informative. She was giving me a running comparison of each bra that I tried on; every bra that I tried on besides the Triumph ones were only made of one panel per cup. The ‘Lace’ Triumph Maternity Wirefree Bra is made up of fifty-six panels per cup and let me tell you, it makes for a heavenly fit. There are six rows of clasps at the back and I still have a lot more room to adjust the straps – so these two bras should see me through until the very end of my pregnancy, if not the whole way.
So sure, I may never be able to buy the prettiest bras and I may never be able to wear backless tops and dresses without a few kilometres worth of Hollywood tape, but at this stage in my life, all I care about is comfort. I’m THAT person right now. These two ginormous fifty-six panelled cups are the comfiest goddamn things to have ever adorned my breasts.
Now to find a bikini..
Lily Allen has been off the radar for a while now, but she will never stray far from my heart.
That may seem like an overly dramatic and unnecessarily poetic statement, but I absolutely adore the woman. Her song Fuck You that absolutely tore George Bush to shreds; It’s Not Fair that rather wonderfully sums up that feeling of when you like someone but they aren’t great in bed and you don’t know what to do because they are a nice person etc.; The Fear that perfectly illustrates social conditioning and consumerism and nails it in one perfect line, “Now everything is cool as long as I’m getting thinner”. But the song that probably got me all hot and bothered over Lily Allen was He Wasn’t There which is about her dad, “You might have thought you didn’t teach me much but you taught me right from wrong. And it was when you didn’t keep in touch well, it taught me to be strong.”
I am all about Lily Allen.
She has come back onto the media scene ahead of the release of her autobiography My Thoughts Exactly, which I didn’t even know was a thing but of which I am desperately excited for. Allen posted the following image on instagram the other day, revealing that while her marriage was in the process of completely breaking down, she slept with female escorts. As I mentioned already, I had no idea that she was releasing a book, and although she has come to be known for her ‘partying’ ways I also didn’t know how much she has been through, lived through and experienced.
After I read the initial article (which actually made me swoon for her even more) (also don’t judge me that it is a news.com article), I did some more reading about the book and about her and I realised how much experience and life shapes her music and her words. Without going into everything that I read about, as you can just as easily read it for yourself, I want to focus on how even just this single instagram post made me feel incredibly powerful and far less alone. I can’t empathise with the specifics of the article, having never slept with a female escort, but what I can completely identify with is the desire to unveil one’s entire truth. How powerful, if not completely hideously scary it would be to bare everything to the masses, but also how liberating. Truly. I have done things and experienced things and made decisions and made mistakes that not even the people closest to me know about, and I am sure that many – if not all of you – could say the very same thing.
Far too often we hear of only the ‘shiny’ parts of people, mainly because that is all we choose to show others, only the parts of us that are deemed acceptable. When we do hear of someone’s actions that are perhaps a bit taboo or not in line with what is ‘morally acceptable’ to us, these admissions are followed by shame and ridicule and judgement and people asking, “What is wrong with you?”. When really these so-called flaws are what we should be celebrating most. If someone has worked up the courage to share with you elements of their darker person and have let you into a space that up until then was only reserved for themselves, I feel that respect should be given (and probably a hug). The term ‘demon’ is thrown around a lot, “Oh, you know, she had her demons.” Yeah, don’t we all? Even the term has negative connotations that we should surely be aiming to abolish.
People have often asked me why I like writing, or what it is about writing that draws me to it. The answer is is that it allows me to explain. Writing allows me to allow others in. Writing gives me the gift of not only sharing the ‘what’ but also the ‘why’. I have not lived my life in all of its chaos and wonder to be ashamed of it, and I take pride in how comfortable I am in being open and vulnerable to others. Reading and learning more about Lily Allen, even if it was sparked from a instagram post and a news.com story, made me realise that I still have a lot more to unveil and a lot more fear to shed if I am to follow in her footsteps. I have always wanted to ‘write my story’ and I think that it is a very human thing to do to want to share one’s own stories – more human than we give it credit for. It isn’t often that an autobiography is released where the subject is then ridiculed for what is in it. Audiences may be shocked, sure, but on the whole, most of the time these people are applauded for being so honest. Russell Brand with My Booky Wook, Anthony Kiedis with Scar Tissue, Kirstie Alley with The Art of Men, Piper Kerman’s Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women’s Prison that has gone on to be one of the most well-known, loved and poignant TV series of our time. All of these stories, each of these lives, every single one of these people have been acknowledged for what they shared. Fuck, I was working at Angus & Robertson when Scar Tissue came out and to date it is probably the most talked about and requested book that I have experienced in its time. People went bloody mental for it; and what that was was a man owning up, unapologetically, to the decisions and experiences of his life.
What else struck me about Lily Allen and the brief details that I was able to garner from a search on the internet is that she is a woman who is prepared to talk about things that women are often stigmatised and HEINOUSLY judged for. Sexuality, substance abuse, Allen was also extremely open about the devastating effects of her miscarriage and stillbirth – something which is seldom spoken about no matter its universal reach. By simply sharing her own experiences, Lily Allen has opened up a dialogue that has previously been closed, she is starting a dialogue. With one single post she has backed up and reinforced everything that I wish to do with my writing, which is to make people feel safe in their own selves, choices, past and present.
There is so much that I want to share with you here and now as a result of Lily Allen’s ‘confession’ about female escorts, there is so much more that I wish to say and so much more gratitude that I want to bestow on her. But this is simply me starting my own dialogue, and this is only the beginning.
“When women share their stories, loudly and clearly and honestly, things begin to change – for the better.” This quote from Allen, taken from My Thoughts Exactly is everything that I stand for, everything that I, as a writer stand for, and everything that this business stands for.