14 weeks and counting

It's been a couple of weeks since I started sharing our news with friends and family - so many I wanted to tell personally led my husband to comment "have you called the Daily Telegraph and the Herald yet?".

He's well known for being a smart arse.

Still it seems some people are finding out through osmosis or the gossip (really!!?? I didn't think I was important enough to gossip about!), but yet others who I thought would have known are still in the dark.

Take yesterday for example.

I hosted an afternoon for some of my friends with small children and had invited a consultant from Total Learning to come along and show us the range of educational books and CD Roms from her latest catalogue. Not everyone knew each other so we went around the room introducing ourselves and talking about the ages of the kids in our lives. When it got to me I said I had Master 2 and another one due in January (assuming common knowledge). At least 2 of my friends shrieked "Oh my goodness, congratulations". Obviously the gossip hadn't reached them!

I'm not sleeping as well as I did PP (pre-pregnancy) but this is not yet due to increased pressure on my bladder (I have that all to look forward to, hopefully later rather than sooner). I'm sleeping much more lightly and having the most incredibly realistic dreams. The dreams feature relatives, friends colleagues and complete strangers and are commonly nightmarish. Much to my dismay and hubby's they often are so realistic that I wake up mumbling, talking or groaning (less often laughing) in my sleep.

I sort of remember this from my first pregnancy, but not really. It's not really mentioned in any of the pregnancy books.

The other problem that my light sleeping has made more apparent is my dear husband's issue with snoring. He calls it breathing loudly but as friends he recently babysat for (they returned home to find him "breathing loudly" on the couch) can attest - it's a real problem. We've tried everything non surgical, the "silence" spray, the band aid type things that stick on top of his nose, and recently a plastic contraption that goes inside his nose and spreads his nostrils. PP they seemed to be mostly effective. Now I'm sleeping more lightly, not so much.

His novel solution? I should go and see a hypnotist so that I can learn to sleep through it.

One of my friends lent me a newly published book on pregnancy - in the same school as Kaz Cooke's "Up the Duff". It's called "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Hormones - Your One-Stop Survival Guide to Staying Sane During Pregnancy" - by Emma Tom. It's fantastic! I started reading it yesterday and because it's a week-by-week guide and I'm already 14 weeks I couldn't put it down until I got up to date. To put it in perspective I read 176 pages yesterday and when I looked up last night at my clock radio to find out the time before I finally went to sleep it read 12.20am. Yes, a book that keeps a pregnant woman up until after midnight, it must be good! I actually laughed out loud at a number of points and would highly recommend it to anyone going through pregnancy.

The other problem that I've encountered this week is low blood pressure - the "oh my God, I'm about to pass out" sort of low blood pressure. It began in earnest on Wednesday when I was trying to bake some cupcakes. I had to lie myself down on the kitchen floor at least 3 times while preparing the mixture. Add to that, Master 2 seems to believe anytime I'm horizontal it's time for him to 'rumble' made for an interesting morning. I had similar problems the rest of the week, so I'm trying to move more slowly. This is frustrating I know for fellow commuters who can't understand why a seemingly healthy woman takes so bloody long to climb the stairs at the station. Believe me, slow and steady is better than the reverse dominoes that would occur if I walked at my usual pace and passed out halfway up the stairs! My colleague suggested using the lift, but I'm a bit embarrassed.

This week as well I've discovered that I already have a little preggy belly - at 14 weeks! Those in the know tell me it's because my body has done this before it knows what to do and that it's not unusual. The trick is deciding if I want to look pregnant or not. When I have to fight for a seat on a peak hour bus it's definitely useful (though this week despite definitely looking pregnant I got the Sydney response - nuthin!). But jeans and a hoodie mean I can still get away with looking like nothing much has changed.

It's time to button down for another big week. I have a paid mat leave celebration tomorrow night at the office of the Sex Discrimination Commissioner, Liz Broderick that promises to be fun (even if I can't share a glass of bubbly). Tuesday night looks less like fun and more like hard work as I put my activist hat on and do my representative duty on a peak body. It's made up of people whose mean age (I kid you not) is 82 and whose politics are unfortunately so far from mine that I often feel like I'm banging my head against a brick wall. But you do what you can - right?