I have written quite a bit about how terrible I am at resting, especially when I am under the weather. I am not well at the moment, I have been trying to relax and get better.
I have been drinking chamomile, lavender and vanilla tea (it is disgusting,, like a child’s perfume experiment) I have been trying to get earlier nights (difficult because I still want to have a bit of time with lovely boyfriend) I have been attempting to not care what the house looks like (can’t leave it alone, the dogs are a whirlwind of constant mess and destruction).
I keep on trying to trick myself into being better. This morning my body decided to fight back against this. Every morning I feed the baby, then go downstairs with the dogs to feed them. My youngest pup Opie (and biggest dog) eats in the garden, he gets his bowl last so I usually join him with a cup of tea. We have a lean to (runs the length of our house with a corrugated plastic roof, the tumble drier and chest freezer live there) I then get the washing and something for dinner to bring back in the house.
Today I found myself sweating, going dizzy (started to get the black and white TV fuzz in my eyes that means I am going to faint) and feeling as if my cup of tea was going to make a hasty reappearance all over the white goods.
I had to sit down and lean against the house so that the bricks could cool me down and support me from crashing all over the floor.
The strangest things went through my head. I couldn’t pass out because I had to be there for the baby. If I was seriously ill and people found me then my polka dot pyjama bottoms, checked night shirt and leopard print dressing gown might indicate to people that I was blind or that I had no idea how to coordinate (neither is true, sleepy me only cares about comfy and warm, I know that it looks stupid)
Then the massive fear. What if I was pregnant again? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Suddenly I am not worried about dying in the garden and I am having images of trying to cope with a one year old and a new born baby. How on earth would I do that?
I went back in the house. It was time to feed my tiny man a few spoonfuls of baby porridge (he is a hungry baby so we are experimenting with first tastes of food slightly earlier than some people might) I was trying to work out how I could have one in a high chair and one breastfeeding.
Then it was bath time. I would only be able to bath one if the other was asleep or lovely boyfriend was home.
My morning feed in the rocking chair in the nursery with my newly clean and yummy smelling baby was overshadowed by me wondering how I could fit a second cot into the room. ( I had dismantled the built in wardrobes, put up shelves and bought a smaller radiator before I stopped my crazy mental freak out)
I used to keep a stash of pregnancy tests in the bathroom, I used them all when I found out I was pregnant last time. I don’t have any left. I am using contraception.
I am certainly NOT pregnant.
I realised that I had wasted nearly an hour of brain space on planning for a terrifying imaginary baby.
It would seem that my head creates all sorts of crazy when what it should be doing is telling me to sit down, sod the pork chops and rest.
I am going to go to the shop later and buy a bunch of pregnancy tests so that in future I can save myself the stupid, self imposed worry.
And I will carry on drinking the disgusting tea and try to put my feet up.