It seems that Week 13 is lost. Well, my GP, midwife and me were wrong in calculations and scan showed that I was in the middle of the 13th weeks. Numbers were never my good friends. I hate Maths, I secretly believe that I have some form of numerical dyslexia.
Anyway, there's light at the end of a tunnel. I start to feel a bit better. Less visits to toilet to throw up, hoooray!!
I regularly speak to my mum who lives in Aktobe, Kazakhstan on the phone. Lately, I have been moaning and complaining a lot. My mum's way of showing support is to tell me how difficult it was for her, she had to work and was anaemic and there's only 22 months between me and my elder sister. All is true. And annoing at the same time! it's not a competition of who is more miserable but she makes it sound that I lead an easy life with a loving and supporting husband and no need to work full time. So I'm trying to tell her that nothing is easy and I will have to cope with 2 kids under 5 on my own as my husband works away a lot!!! At times he is away for months!!!
Mum then suggests that she will give up work and come and stay with us for 6 months when the baby is born. This is unexpected. I love my mum dearly, I actually appreciate her more after my dad passed away (February 2009, 3 days before my birthday) but 6 months is a lot. So I don't say "No" and I don't say "Yes". I get away with "We'll see"
From now on, whenever I talk to mum, I don't complain. Not a moan. Everything is great. I'm coping very well. I am my usual stong self. Super woman.
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