i realise that i’ve been letting myself do a lot of “wrong” things for this pregnancy. i’m not sure whether it’s subconscious, or whether there could actually be a rebellious, defiant streak running through my hormones this time round.
now let me count the ways:
1) a weakness for – tea! top of the list being iced lemon tea. or plain ol’ hot tea, with or without milk, depending on where i’m having it. i know know know that caffeine is bad, evil, wicked, etc, especially during pregnancy. and when other (bad, evil, wicked, etc) people tell me that it’s ok to have just one cup a day, i take their word for it. this hardly happened the last time. i was religious with my daily HL milk, soya bean and watermelon juice, all that good stuff. i do try too now as well, but for a good number of months, my tastebuds refused to cooperate and those just weren’t my cuppa tea (so to speak).
2) highlighted my hair. ok, ok, so it was more like highlights and colour. but i DID tell the hairdresser to keep AWAY from my roots and scalp, AND he used foil, if that’s any consolation. and i tried not to inhale the peroxide fumes too much (which, by the way, is doable enough coz these new hair dyes hardly smell at all). i know that doctors would say hair dye is not harmful to the baby, and scientists would say the risk is negligible (i was already well into my second trimester after all, and in serious need of a pick-me-up, having just turned thirty and all), but two years ago, it’d be unthinkable for me to mess around with chemicals while carrying another human being in my body. “how irresponsible!”, i would say. but now, i guess, erm, perspectives… change?
3) *achtung: bimbo alert* – slacked on mascara application. (go ahead, LOL or roll your eyes, or do both now!) see, i have this theory that my daily mascara use during the first pregnancy was the ONLY reason why my firstborn came to have such long, luscious, curled-up lashes where his parents seriously lack in that department. i mean, we couldn’t have skipped a generation of blessed eyelash genes, could we? in any case, i don’t have the time to primp my lashes these days, and i can’t seem to find the right mascara anymore. (although i must say, i DO have an inexplicable obsession with eyeshadow this time round… hmm, what does this mean…?)
4) “forget” to take the daily cocktail mix of folicacid-obimin-calcium-DHA-etc on some days. oh well. let’s blame it on those “forgetful” pregnant women hormones, shall we?
5) did more unthinkable – became another kind of drug junkie. ingested various cough syrups, popped flu pills, begged for antibiotics… and this coming from someone who can barely stand panadol (being allergic to painkillers) and who avoids drugs, refusing to depend on pfizer et al whenever possible. but my immune system seems to be shot to hell this time round, getting sick more often than usual, and i just want it to go away quickly so i could deal with the more pressing issue of getting myself comfortable with this growing uterus and all, thus the non-resistance to drugs and drug-induced wooziness (which i really, really hate).
6) have negative thoughts. this i can’t elaborate much, but they just seem to sneak up and threaten to devour me like hungry, vicious, venomous serpents… ok, that was a tad overdramatic! i think perhaps i haven’t been as mentally prepared to have another little person in my life as i thought i would be. different from the first pregnancy, when i was more active, had more energy and higher spirits, more independence and freedom. though not to say that i’m not thankful for being blessed with a girl to complete the yin to my yang, of course! (yes, note to self: must keep up with similarly positive thoughts. ohmmm…)
7) neglect eating properly. well yeah, i’ve always had a problem with this, pregnant or otherwise, but things are a little screwy on the actual act of eating itself – i’m just too lazy to look for food! sure, i can eat rice just fine this time (nasi padang is comforting, for the strangest reason), where during the previous pregnancy, the smell of rice turned me off big time. and where i had my fix of fries almost daily the last time, some fries taste like cardboard to me now. see, told you it’s all screwy. food. bah! i givap!
8 ) raided the husband’s wardrobe and pilfered his drabbest tshirts and shorts to sleep in. ok, so this is not “wrong” per se – just very unglam and unsexy. unthinkable indeed! but all my sleepwear are deemed hopelessly uncomfortable at this point, and i’m too cheapskate to buy new ones, so thank god for husbands and their big tshirts and shorts.
9) have not bought or prepared anything for the impending bundle of joy, and we have only two more months left. well, except for those three pairs of baby tights. how essential, right? ha ha.
10) totally forsaken cocoa butter and other forms of stretchmark-prevention. yup, i’ve lost it. my body is no longer a sacred temple. i care not for the threatening silvery lines about to be forever etched onto my skin, just like a tattoo… i’ll always have you – eh wait, isn’t that a song…? anyway, i figure, who cares? we SHOULD be proud of our stretchmarks, dammit! they’re real battle scars, ok! even the bravest warriors and gladiators never held such honour of being pregnant and going through labour, alright!
so there. i can’t believe i came up with ten things. i thought maybe five, six at most. i am now officially a depraved mother.
the good news though: my hair and skin are very well-behaved. so those rebellious, defiant hormones must be doing some good after all.
***
ok, this picture is totally unrelated, but i just like it very muchly, so i’m putting it here because i HAVE to put at least one picture to balance off an unnecessarily verbose post such as the one above. (and as a reminder that perhaps there is hope after all in my rocky world of motherhood.)
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