Brain fog

I’ve started to become a bad employee. I’m not saying that now I’m pregnant, nothing else in the world exists or matters, and that insignificant things like a career are no longer of any interest…..but one way or another I find myself really struggling to place the same emphasis on monthly reports, spending figures and the difference between a dot and a comma. It’s as if the activities that I found mildly boring before have developed a dullness of galactic proportions and, not only can I just not bring myself to check the facts and figures twice, but I almost don’t care whether or not they’re correct. Sounds awful doesn’t it? I honestly don’t think it’s arrogance – like Christina Applegate and her “I’m making a person; what’s your freakin super-power?” t-shirt. It just seems like my brain doesn’t want to function like it used to and a few hundred thousand euros difference here and there in the end of month invoicing report is nothing in comparison with episiotomies, rectal swabs and incontinence. These are just 3 of the potential future delights that I’ve been introduced to in recent weeks – and I thought all I had to do was grow and then push a small person out of me!
I am well aware that this is the job which will keep me in (initially 80%, then 30% of) the lifestyle that I’m accustomed to, months after I’ve forgotten how to update an Access database, and I’m well aware that I should appreciate it, give it my all, prove the chauvinists wrong, and charge through these final months before mat leave with even more determination than before, leaving my substitute with some very big shoes to fill….. In reality all I want to do is take a nap. No, actually that’s not quite true. Maybe a big part of my new-found ‘laziness’ (for want of a better word) is to do with the fact that I desperately want and need a lifestyle change. I can’t and won’t be one of those mothers who leaves their 9 month old at the all-day nursery, from 8am to 6pm, and learns about their growth and progress from strangers. Not to mention the 600/700 euro per month cost… I’ve been saying it for a while now, but this multi-national / corporate / commuter Milan deal is just not Long Term Me. I don’t get enthused about breaking deals, I’m not ecstatic when a new contract is signed and I don’t thrive on the 5 countries in 5 days sort of business travel that many of my colleagues seem to treat as oxygen. It was fine for a while – maybe even for less time than I’ve actually done it, but now that my life is slowly changing, I feel that my physical capability in this world has a use-by date, and it’s getting closer and closer by the day.
So, what to do? This is not the land of opportunity, by any means. Here, if you have a permanent contract, above-average salary and company car, you’re insane to turn your back on it unless you win the national lottery. So maybe I’m crazy…. Or maybe it’s the hormones… Or maybe it’s just time to re-evaluate. All I know is, I really need to get my act together, stop falling asleep at my desk and maybe put a little more enthusiasm into it. I was determined never to hear a colleague or client say “now she’s pregnant she no longer makes an effort” and had intended to work my butt off til the end of the year (insert butt size joke here), but somehow I’m losing my grip. I almost feel like I can’t be bothered to go home, lie on the sofa and watch X-factor. I almost can’t be bothered to keep writing this post….
No, seriously, my mind has gone blank. I have nothing more to say. I’m sure I was meant to do something / send someone something / finish something before leaving the office but it’s completely gone. Oh well, I doubt it was anything important anyway….

Your money or your life!

I’m not very lucky when it comes to the public health system. The morning after I found out I was pregnant, my (former, rude, unprofessional) doctor went on holiday for 2 weeks, and I was left searching the countryside for a substitute doctor who turned out to be a smelly old man in a dirty, fly-invested office. Having changed doctors (go me for being proactive and not putting up with the stronza!), I called my new one to book an appointment so that I can pick up the referrals I need from my gynecologist and go get my 16-week blood work done at the lab (it’s actually more complicated than it sounds, believe it or not!) and what did I find? She was literally just leaving in the car for a 2-week holiday! Over a bad connection she gave me the name of a substitute but I didn’t recognize the name of the village he’s meant to be in, nor did I find it on Google maps! As I said, I’m not very lucky with these things…
Having procrastinated over what to do for the best part of a week, I started to worry that my scary gyno might yell at me for not getting the tests done right away, so I went to the blood lab to see whether I could get them done anyway (in my experience when it comes to the referral, you’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t – as in you pay either way!). I was told that with the referral I would pay 37 euros, and without it 39. Not surprising given the way things are run around here, but to be honest there seems to be no consistency WHATSOEVER in what you pay for, when and why.
Originally I was under the impression that pregnant women in Italy were exempt from all payments, with the exception of certain tests, and in fact the guy at the blood lab sort of confirmed this for me – HOWEVER, you still pay for each individual referral (“ticket”), and the costs depends partly on which region you are in, and partly what the ticket is for. I was under the impression that the ticket had a standard price of 17 euros, or thereabouts. In fact, for my last round I had 5 tickets at a cost of 100 euros, as I had to do a number of different tests and apparently there is a limit of 8 tests on a single ticket. This time around I had no ticket, but had I made it that far, the cost would have been 37. With only 6 tests, this should have been one single ticket, so how come so much? Confused?? Me too!
I hear that women in other parts of Italy pay anything from nothing to 20 euros per round of tests, whereas most people I know in this part of the world (Lombardia) tend to pay up to 100 euros, like me. Is this a geographical lottery or is it yet another example of Italy being so disorganized that no one really understands the system and so each local authority implements it own version of the truth in the hope that nobody notices? It’s true that I have chosen a fairly pricey private gyno (although taking into account the fact that the waiting lists for check-ups in the public system are so long, my kid would be starting school before I get to the second ultrasound…) but for the rest of it, I seem to be paying out even in the supposedly “subsidized” part of the process. I consider myself fairly well-informed, am totally integrated and fluent in the language, so am not a victim of the lack of cultural understanding. There just doesn’t seem to be a way around it. Medical expenses so far (including the standard gyno appointments) have set me back over 500 euros, and I’m in week 17! It feels like I have a long and costly road ahead of me!!!

The weighting game

When talking about pregnancy with English friends, and the topic of food comes up, the general tone is something along these lines: “Oh, isn’t it great that you now have an excuse to eat what you like?!” and “Make the most of it – you can lose the weight when the baby is born….”. Take that conversation to Italy and you’re more likely to hear “How’s your weight going? Are you managing to keep it low? No pastries for you now!!”
Pregnant Italians are weight obsessed. Their friends are obsessed on their behalf. Worst of all, your average (already slightly intimidating) gynecologist turns into a fully paid up member of the Nazi party when it comes to diet and nutrition; and when you already weighed 5 kilos over your ideal before the pregnancy….. well, you can imagine.
Don’t get me wrong – I am a strong believer in healthy eating and always have been. I completely understand the importance of good nutrition for your unborn child and I am well aware of the complications brought about by rapid weight gain in pregnancy (pre-eclampsia and diabetes being the big scary ones) but sometimes I can’t help wishing I wasn’t up there in Northern Europe where a pregnant lady eating a mars bar isn’t considered an obscene act in a public place, and the occasional treat (“it’s not for me, it’s for baby”) is perfectly normal, everyday behavior.
My gyno is great – very well qualified, very thorough, very professional. However, she also has that Italian way which makes you think that she might well go home and stick pins in a voodoo doll of you if you don’t do exactly what she says. Her latest offering to me was “If you don’t regulate your own food, I’ll put you on a diet and complicate your life in a way you can only imagine”. My protestations that I’m actually eating really well and being careful already were brushed aside. “Well, if you don’t take my advice you’ll become a diabetic and then you’ll be sorry”. Hoooooly!!! “Eat only fish, meat, steamed vegetables and fruit at meals” was her next piece of advice. “Avoid carbohydrates, sugar, fat, and too many dairy products”.
Hang on a second. I’m 170 cms tall (5’6’’ )and weighed 67 kilos pre-pregnancy (147lbs or 10.7 stone). I am now 72 kilos at four months of pregnancy ( 158lbs or 11.4 stone) weight. I’m no sugarplum fairy, but I’m not obese either. My usual dress size is 14-16 UK (the national average) and I have a generally healthy diet. I put on weight at the start of my pregnancy because the only things I could keep down were crisps and cheese, but we’re well passed that now.. I am actually keeping a food diary of everything that passes my lips, which reads like an anorexic’s shopping list: 11am – ½ a banana. 1pm – small pack of soia crackers. 3pm – 1 pear. And here I was thinking I would be eating for two!!
So, there we are. All is well so far – baby growing nicely, blood tests regular, diet boring. Assuming all goes well (facciamo sempre le corna)…. in 5 months from now I will mostly be drinking tea and eating donuts – just because nobody will be able to stop me!

Outed!!!

If you've come over from Life, Lavoro and Luca..... Welcome!!!
If you've come from somewhere else, I'd like to know how the heck you found me....

Will be updating soon when I can get the pregnancy brain back in gear. In the meantime here's a pic of the little one (very little at 6 cm!!)

A presto!