Bun in oven

PITA, literally

I try not to whinge about anything pregnancy-related because, come on, after that year of sticking needles into myself and getting high (NOT) on hormones, I’m just pretty grateful to be pregnant AT ALL.

But this one, oh bother, this pain is just frustrating me to no end. Remember that “pop pop!” in my ass that I mentioned previously? It seems to have gotten worse. And it has a name. Read it out loud and let it strike the deepest, darkest terror into your heart: PELVIC GIRDLE PAIN.

Or so I think it is. PhD in Googling, remember?

Basically, it’s a pain in the ass for me. Like, LITERALLY. Every morning, I have to climb the overhead bridge to get to school from the bus stop. While I used to revel in the fact that I can bounce up those steps without as much as a huff or a puff even with child, these days, I courteously move to the side and ascend the steps one by one SLOWLY. And when I am travelling between classes, I stroll. My walk no longer has that defined purpose to it. And I am someone who walks really fast.

Because it hurts. The pain is concentrated on my left butt at the tailbone and it can be sharp and shooting. It comes and it goes and the only relief I get is by applying a heat pad to it. I don’t know what else I can do because some of the advice given by Dr Google are things that I have been watching out for.

My initial grand plan was to work till the kid is ready to vacate his watery villa but with this darn pain hanging out with us, I am having second thoughts. Thankfully, we will be seeing Dr Y next week and I just might ask if he could put me on medical leave when I hit full term.

In three weeks’ time. (cue hysterical screams)