Yawn

I have, again, been very absent from the blogging scene of late. This is mainly due to a couple of reasons. Firstly, not long after my last blog, I found out that I was pregnant (woohoo!) and did not want to jinx it in any way by shouting the news to the world before the little one was well and truly settled in its temporary home. Secondly, and probably due in no small part to the first reason, I've been exhausted. Totally, utterly, drop down can't move, can't keep my eyes open knackered.
I keep reading that this exhaustion disappears in the second trimester and you spent those three months (or so) feeling wonderful and full of energy and much, much better than you did in the first trimester. I have 5 1/2 weeks to go before I reach the third trimester (which is a scary thought in itself...) and have as yet seen no sign of this debilitating tiredness leaving me.
My husband has been wonderful. He makes me tea when I get home from work, he makes me put my feet up (especially after the incident with the swollen ankles - eek!) and he makes me go to bed early so that I get enough sleep. And I really do mean early. It's not been unknown for me to collapse in my bed at 8pm. Weekends are a time for resting. I do pregnancy yoga on a Saturday morning while he does the housework and after a week at work, that just about wipes me out for the rest of the day.
Given that we're also heading into summer (it's technically only spring and it was 34 degrees today) the chances of me having the energy to do anything for the next few months are rather slim.

Heaven only knows how I'm going to cope once I actually have a baby to look after! I'm hoping that this will get better but with sleep deprivation and the such that comes with a little one, I'm not counting on it.
Still, there are joys to being pregnant that I am discovering, feeling my baby kick and roll about is something that I just can't describe. I did think I was about to launch into a scene from Alien though the first time that I saw my stomach actually move when the baby kicked. That is just plain weird.
Anyway, to stall the inevitable questions, yes it is possible to tell what we're having and the answer is...a baby. What sex said baby is is a mystery that will just have to wait another 4 months to be resolved :)
I will try and do better with the blog. Am not making any promises though...zzzz

hmmm

Feel dizzy, lightheaded. I've taken to keeping a bag of sweets or a bar of chocolate near me to stop me shaking. Had fun yesterday when I tried to go for a blood test. Found out that the only way they could eventually get blood to flow from my arm (after trying to warm me up with blankets and a heat pack) was to lie me down and dangle my arm off the edge of the bed and hope that gravity did all the work. Fun? Not really.

Also feel just one step away from tears. Constantly, they're always there and I know that if someone just looks at me the wrong way at the wrong time they're going to just flow out of me. Sometimes they do anyway (and the double episode of How I Met Your Mother dealing with pregnancy tests, fertility issues and then the sudden loss of one character's father did not help in the slightest).

Need to call doctor next week and be reassured even though I think that these are fairly common symptoms of my medication. Still, in the meantime I did what any normal person would do and googled the facts and side effects of my medication. Of course.

Found something that amused me greatly. On a page headed 'Clomid facts and comparisons' I found the following under the warnings:

"Avoid becoming pregnant while you are taking it"

For those of you who don't know, Clomid is given to those women who are having trouble conceiving. It's supposed to boost your system to help you get pregnant. Somehow, this isn't really reassuring me.

Houses

I am obsessed with househunting. My husband can't understand why I go through the real estate part of the weekend paper. Every weekend. I'm not at the point where I go to open houses (unless, of course, it's the neighbour's place...) just for fun but sometimes, just sometimes, I'm very very tempted.

It's normally just an idle curiousity that drives me. A 'what kind of place would we buy if we could afford to' sort of thing. It drives me crazy, however, when I'm looking at the price range that we could buy in and finding houses that look really good and could be absolute bargains for us but know that we can't put in any offers or do anything until this place is fixed and we can sell it. So, at present, I'm a bit cranky with slow insurance companies. And the body corporate.

There are some sorts of houses from some areas that I would just love to live in and I think that's what I keep looking for. If I was in Britain, it would be an older house, possibly full of little corridors and rooms that surprise you when you walk round the corner because you really didn't there would be a room there. One with character, anyway (and, for the record, that doesn't necessarily mean beams and tiny rooms). Oh, and a big fireplace.

If I was in Melbourne, it would definitely be a house similar to the one my sister lives in. A single story wooden slatted house, with a veranda and wrought iron decorations. There are suburbs of Melbourne and Sydney that have houses just like that on wide, tree lined street. Street after street of them.

Here, in the tropics, it would be a Queenslander. For those not from around here, it's quite simple. This is a hot, wet climate. Prone (in case you hadn't noticed) to flooding. The original people who settled here knew this and they designed a house to cope with it. Also, crocodiles can't climb. So, a typical Queenslander is a single story house on stilts. Usually the floor of the house is high enough that you can walk under it. They are usually designed around some central rooms with a wide veranda that goes around the entire house. Sometimes this is enclosed, or at least partially, with old fashioned casement windows from wall to wall so you can open up any part of the house to let the breeze flow through. They are open, airy houses perfectly suited for the tropics.

I love houses. One day...

Lucky really

The last few days have been...different...to say the least. We shut down the office at work on Tuesday lunchtime. We spent the next 24 hours packing up stuff because we live at a beach suburb and were hearing at that point stories of 6m storm surges. That would have come at least through the ground floor of our house. Yay. We moved to my parents' in law's house in a different suburb (more importantly, a higher suburb).

Anyway, by Wednesday lunchtime Yasi had headed further south than previously forecast and we decided that home was where we wanted to be so we left my car, full of all our electrical stuff at Kewarra Beach and headed home.

I must admit of all the things I thought I would be doing Wednesday night, sleeping was not one of them. However, I was exhausted and fell asleep on the sofa. Occasionally I woke up as lots of flying leafs, twigs and probably the occasional branch hit our garage and roof and my fish tried to escape from the tank. My husband reported that the upstairs windows were bending and shaking under the force of the wind. We lost power fairly early that night.

Thursday morning came as a relief and whilst walking down Yorkeys (I live at Yorkeys Knob, go on, chuckle, you know you want to...) main street, there were trees down and debris just everywhere. The 50k signpost was still upright, but the actual sign was at the bottom of the pole and facing the wrong way. The sea was just incredible. We never get surf up here and it was pounding up the beach. Or, at least, what was left of it.

Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come for us. The ensuing thunderstorm that parked above us for Thursday afternoon and night was incredible. 10.5 inches of rain in 24 hours, most of which fell in a 6 hour period. We had most of our neighbours out helping us in the pouring rain with the wheely bins trying to move the water on that was threatening to flood our house.

It was ironic really, that as we were trying to save the ground floor from flooding, that the roof decided that it couldn't cope and I went upstairs to discover a small river pouring from our lightfittings in the spare room. Onto the spare bed. Onto the carpet. And, as it turns out, through the roof, through the walls, through the built-in wardrobe, through the window casement and through our downstairs ceiling. Bugger.

Now we just sit and wait for the insurance assessors, the electrician to tell us that we can turn our lights and fans back on and use our upstairs power points, the builder to tell us what needs to be done to fix our rapidly mouldy house.

I will say one thing. We were really bloody lucky. We have a roof, we have walls, we have a house (albeit rapidly mouldy one). If cyclone Yasi had come where it was intially forecast we most likely would not have anything right now. I'm so glad that we do, and I feel so desperately sorry for those so near to us that now have nothing.