Guilt

First guilt trip, I had a complete paddy today. Full on she's lost her mind tantrum. Oops. It was in reaction to an overreaction of something so utterly trivial combined with complete lack of sympathy to my pain. I shrieked, I cried, I slammed. I made my children cry at my noise. I am ashamed.

Second guilt trip. I am a bad advocate for mothering. I have twice commented on a blog this last week to a new mother. First to profess the joys of caesarean birth - not scary, not bed riding for a fortnight - and today to encourage the use of formula.

Really, I should be shot. My opinion, yay, but probably best not shared as it doesn't toe the natural party line.

To be fair on myself, my stance on both issues are not "they are better" but more "do not beat yourself up if they happen".

Purchases arrived today: 2 pairs of maternity pyjamas and a maternity vest top. Maternity wear makes the bump look much more advanced than oversized wear which drapes. Maternity wear clings. Comfy though and there's no exposed udders.

Pain level lessened by not leaving the house and so not walking more than the length of the hall. On most days this is not a practicable solution but on a day off it's a relief. If immensely frustrating. One of the most painful things I have done today, which I have needed to do approximately once an hour, is go to the toilet. It's not the going that hurts - thankfully - it's the sitting down on, and getting up from, the toilet that's tricky. Hence the bad mood.

It has cooled down again which means two things: I can shut the window and the tools haven't been drinking in the sun all day. So a peaceful night may ensue.

And as if by magic, a car alarm starts...