Alright, I apologise for the terrible pun, but my word my body seems to be falling apart at the moment.
There are loads of things that pregnancy books don’t tell you about that seem to be happening to me right now. I was fully prepared for the exhaustion and the mind-numbness that seems to have come about due to my ‘condition’ (although my brain is weird at the moment, I refuse to read ’50 Shades of Grey’ as suggested by one of my husband’s aunts. Ugh.), there are a few weird things that are afflicting me. Namely:
- Eczema. I was convinced that this wouldn’t be an issue, due to not having anything break out for a couple of years, but alas, I was wrong. Apparently, something like half of eczema sufferers say that it gets worse when pregnant, due to all those crazy hormones (the ones that, apparently, may mean I like ’50 Shades’…) I’ve suffered with atopic eczema since I was a baby, but always on the back of my knees or around my mouth, never on my eyes. It’s really annoying, as it is painful but more importantly I CAN’T WEAR EYELINER. This, as I’m sure you understand, is very important to me. However, someone said that the pink hue that it causes once it’s under some kind of control (with enough cream to cover a small child from head to toe) “looks like eyeshadow.” Thanks. I think.
- Fuzzy fingers. The last two fingers on my left hand are all sort of… furry feeling. At first, I thought something was really wrong (oh, hi, WebMD!), until I learnt that it’s sort of like carpal tunnel but not. It’s supposedly caused by water retention on the wrist and will go away. But it sucks. At least I get to wear a really flattering wrist support.
- Nightmares. Oh, god. This is horrible. I’m either veering between no sleep at all as my brain tries to compute the massiveness of the change that’s going to happen, or I’m having horrendous nightmares that I can’t wake up from. Last night, I dreamt that I was in prison. It wasn’t like prison in ‘Chicago’ either (and I didn’t, unfortunately, look like Catherine Zeta Jones), but a weird prison that was all bathed in red light. On a bus. And I couldn’t wake up from it until my alarm went off. It was strange and awful and there are plenty of other odd dreams. I’d be a psychiatrist’s dream at the moment.
All I can say is- bring it on, pregnancy. Bring. It. On.