Women are incredible.
I think there’s a slight truth in the old myth that we can choose what we want to remember, and forget, about pregnancy and childbirth. Let’s be honest. If we couldn’t selectively block out things, there’s a good chance we’d all refuse to ever go through it again and we’d eventually run out of tiny humans on our messed up little planet. 🙂
Last night, I was reminded of one of the things about being pregnant that I have obviously blocked out, when my good friend who is expecting told me she’s off work with Pelvic Girdle Pain…
At the mention of it, I crossed my legs and stopped short of kicking The Him out of the bed and into the spare room, or dog box… or wherever!
Jeeeeeeeeeesus, even the thought of it as I type has my ovaries tying themselves in knots…
I remember the first day my Pelvic pain kicked in on my first pregnancy. The Him and I had gone to Belfast to the Christmas Markets. I was walking through the stands when I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t physically move.
There and then, I was certain that had I taken one more step, my ladybits were going to end up on the ground. I felt like someone was sticking a burning hot poker into my pelvis. I was convinced that my entrails were about to be outtrails.
I scared the bejaysus out of Himself. I don’t really remember how, but he got me shuffled to the nearest taxi and back to the hotel. After a terrified phone call to my Midwife-on-call (or Aunty! I’m not THAT special. haha!), she calmed me down and prescribed a long sleep and a trip to the physio the next day.
Panic over and insides still inside, I did indeed relax, but did the pain go away? Did it feck! I got an appointment with a physio next day and she gave me the most fablis, sexiful and incredible invention ever… a girdle belt.
It saved my ass. Literally. I wore it religiously, took smaller steps when walking and generally behaved my pregnant self, sleeping with a mahoosive pillow between my legs and following the physio’s advice. Thankfully, it didn’t get any worse. Apparently it CAN get worse, a LOT worse. I want to puke even imagining how it could have been worse if I’m honest. It was bad enough as it was!
It was horrific. The pain was shocking. The whole experience was enough to put me off ever wanting to experience anything like it ever again!
So yes, even typing this has my Ladybits throbbing in terror. I want to fly to England and give my buddy a hug. Instead however, I’ll send her a virtual hug and remind her that it’ll all be worth it in a few months when she holds her wee munchkin in her arms.
I’ll also remind her that she’ll soon not even remember the pain she’s in right now…until someone reminds her of it in the future.
And that someone will NOT be me!
Now, it might be time to hit those Christmas Markets in Belfast again? And maybe this time I’ll get past the gate!
The S-Mum 