water frequently.
Get more sleep and rest.
Cut out coffee and alcohol.
Only turn left, except on Wednesdays when there is a full moon (no, not that one).
Smell fresh mint.
Get as much fresh air as possible.
Press your pressure points: 11/2 inches from your wrist on the underneath of your forearm, in the centre. Try it—it just might work!
Take extra vitamin B6, or eat more nuts, bananas, avocados and whole grains, which contain it.
Try yeasty foods, such as Marmite, bagels, dry fruits and beer (sparingly!).
Eat more iron-rich foods, such as beef, sardines, eggs and leafy greens.
I tried all of these to almost no avail. The things which made me feel a little better were brushing my teeth about fifteen times a day, smelling fresh coffee and drinking diet lemonade.
Sonia, mother of Freya, two, and Louis, eight months
It sounds mad, but I had to drink a can of ice-cold Coke the minute I woke up, and I was absolutely fine all day after that. After about eight weeks all the symptoms disappeared, but I still have my morning fix!
I’ve recently discovered all kinds of ‘natural’ remedies available on the Web, which all have glowing reports from absolutely-not-nauseous at-all-any-more mothers. These include naturally coloured lollipops, glamorously named ‘Preggy Pops’ (wouldn’t you just love to have sat in on that meeting?), wristbands that apply pressure to your wrists and apparently relieve nausea that way, and even specially compiled recordings of soothing sea noises for pregnant ears. This last idea seems somewhat insulting to our intelligence: pregnancy may leave you a bit befuddled for a while, but surely it doesn’t render you gullible enough to shell out a tenner for some whale songs and wave noises in the belief that they will ease the queasiness? I suppose if the nausea gets completely unbearable then you will probably be ready to try almost anything. Even whale songs will seem worth a try. Do not, however, take any anti-sickness pills without asking your doctor. There are many available, and not all are suitable during pregnancy.
One final thing you should be prepared for, as I wasn’t the first time, is that it doesn’t last for 12 weeks and then stop. Or, at least, it might, but it almost certainly won’t. Everyone I have talked to has had a different experience. Things always settled down for me at around this time, but for every textbook case there’s one lucky lady who never gets sick at all, and another one who throws up three times a day for nine months. C’est la vie!
Oh, and it does tend to get a little bit worse with multiple babies and with each successive pregnancy, so count yourself lucky you’re not on baby number six yet!
More Worries
More? How much can one woman worry about?
I’m afraid sections dealing with worries, concerns, fears and feelings of utter doom and gloom will crop up time and time again throughout this book. This is not because I am the world’s greatest pessimist, or because I am trying to wind you up into a panic, but because you will experience many of these worries over the course of becoming a Yummy Mummy, and I couldn’t possibly fit them all into one part. Anyway, if I did manage, you would take one look at it and run to the nearest department store for some cosmetics or footwear-related escapism, never to emerge. Fun, but very expensive, and anyway, denial is not very helpful at all, no matter how high its heels are. Better to tackle the issues head-on, and be prepared.
Most of my worries in the early months of my pregnancies focused on all the evils I had done to my body in the past, rather than what awaited it in the immediate future. Could a baby grow inside a body which was previously best known for its pint-downing ability? What about that magic mushroom I was offered in Indonesia ten years ago? Maybe just being in the same tent had an effect on my brain, which would surely be passed on. And what about the genes from the rest of my unsuitable family? Mum used to smoke, my dad’s great-great-great-grandmother had a heart attack, my husband used to live next to an asbestos factory, there’s a phone mast at the end of our road, and I don’t drink green tea. Oh God, oh God! This baby is doomed to grow into a hallucinating piss-head, with heart trouble and a carcinogen-filled brain. What have I done? As far as I can make out from other Yummy Mummies, this sort of irrational panicking is perfectly normal.
Heather, mother of Alex, three, and Katie, six months
We went to a wedding when I was eight weeks pregnant, although I didn’t know at the time. I got hammered, and I put all the throwing up down to the ten glasses of champagne I had quaffed during the reception. When it turned out I was pregnant, I was convinced my baby would be a pickled onion rather than the healthy child she was. It was worrying, though.
Cheering Yourself Up
If you are feeling worried and scared about what is happening to you, and about the whole ‘becoming a parent’ thing, then read this bit as many times as you need to over the next nine months:
Becoming a mother is the best thing you will ever do. (Read that bit again a few more times now, if you like.)
Becoming a mother changes the way you feel about everything, and if you are not sure about it now, you will be absolutely sure about it, and know you have done the right thing, when the baby comes. You will manage just fine.
You will get your figure back, and you will look wonderful and sexy again.
Being a Yummy Mummy does not mean you change who you are, and you will still be able to go out, have a job, go shopping, travel and see your friends. A little less than before, but you can still do it.
You will get Mothers’ Day treats (yippee!).
You will be able to board flights first.
You get balloons when you go to restaurants with your baby.
Yummy Mummies are the luckiest people alive today, because being somebody’s mother is the happiest feeling in the world, and we still get to look fab and have a job. How good is that?
And,