13 Unexpected Things That Happened In My First Trimester


First up, if babies and pregnancy bore you to the point where you want to pick your own brain out through your ears with hair grips, then big apologies.

Not every post from here on out is going to be all shouty BABY BABY BABY, but you’ll have to forgive the fact that keeping it secret for so long has been eating me up and now I’ve got to just word vomit all my thoughts out onto the internet.


So yeah, here’s the weird and wonderful things that happened in the first twelve weeks of pregnancy…



I’ve always prided myself on my super strong bladder (some people are proud of their sporting ability or their loyalty to their friends, and I’m proud of the fact I can go a 20-hour road trip with just two wee breaks), BUT OH GOD MY BLADDER DOES NOT LIKE THE BABY.

I mean, in my defense, this gal’s bladder still doesn’t wake her up in the night but lordy, when it wakes me up at around 7am I am in agony. It feels like my bladder is seconds away from exploding. So that’s always a chipper start to the day.



I’ve read somewhere that a stuffy nose is a common symptom of pregnancy (something to do with blood flow through the ol’ nose), but what I didn’t expect was the sudden constant supply of bogies. Is this too much information or nah? Anyway yeah, I suddenly have very sizeable bogies just hanging out in my nose all day every day. It’s OK, I fancy me too.



Chris’s mum asked me on the phone the other day if I could try my hardest not to kill her son and I told her I couldn’t make any promises. I hate everyone, you are all so annoying (don’t take it personally, it’s not you, it’s me).

Whilst I haven’t been particularly teary or overly emotional, my pregnancy hormones have given me extreme rage. I’m hideously short-tempered and I have no patience. I also think the world revolves around me, so as you can imagine, I am a sweet, sweet joy to be around at the moment. My current pet hate? People chewing gum. Just kill me.



My earliest weeks of pregnancy were mostly punctuated with a frantic Googling of miscarriage stats and being convinced that every (sorry, gross word coming up) moistness I felt down below was blood.

I mean, I did start off going to the loo to check my pants, but by the 17th time I was basically out of energy and would just y’know check from the sofa. Can confirm that a) I’ve washed my hands a lot since and b) I’ve used a lot of anti-bac in the house since, so we’re good. Someone please tell me this wasn’t just me? PLEASE!



I think I found the first few weeks of pregnancy the hardest because not only were the food aversions and first whispers of nausea creeping in, but I had some serious caffeine withdrawals going on.

Before I felt really ill, I was utterly miserable at the fact I had to wake up every morning and decide whether to allocate my caffeine for the day to either a big, sexy, GO GET EM’ TIGER coffee from Starbucks, or a cool, crisp, sassy can of Diet Coke.

And then well, morning sickness happened and GUYS, I WENT OFF DIET COKE, TEA AND COFFEE and it was sheer freaking hell. (Back on the tea AND I’ve had one iced coffee but I have no emotions towards Diet Coke at the moment and I’m v upset about it. I miss my gal).



I would say my favourite part of the pregnancy sickness wasn’t so much the dry heaving over the toilet, nor even the time I vomited into an airplane sickness bag like some sort of  sad little weakling, but the constant rash on my face.

Y’see, my face apparently isn’t so great at dealing with constant retching, and broken capillaries – especially around my eyes – became the norm for me. They’re basically just loads of really small red dots on the skin. And lemme tell you, those badgers need a lot of concealer to properly cover up. I also had a constantly blotchy skin tone, which doesn’t make for such a great pregnancy glow.


I’m pretty sure my amniotic fluid is actually some sort of delicious combo of peach and apple squash at the moment, because not only am I completely and utterly addicted but I am going through pints and pints a day. I am seemingly incapable of leaving the house, even for 20 minutes without stopping to buy a drink because MY MOUTH IS SO DRY AM I IN A DESERT.

If I’m venturing out the house for anything more than about an hour, I’m sensible enough to bring a water bottle with me (I’m attempting not to destroy the world with my plastic bottle usage) but cripes, I keep getting caught off guard and it’s heinous.


Whilst these creeped me out a bit in the early days, I almost kinda like them now because it’s like a constant reminder that there’s actually a baby in my belly. It’s weird to describe them, but they’re like little twinges and pulls just around my knicker line and apparently they’re completely normal – just your body growing because y’know, baby and what not.

Sometimes when I sneeze or get up too quickly they take me by surprise and I’ll yelp really loudly and Chris will be like WHAT’S WRONG? All panicked like the good baby daddy he is and I’ll be like nowt pal, just my womb being a bad ass bitch.


I pray that no-one ever has to look through my recent search history because it’ll for sure make me look like the craziest woman in this solar system. A few of my personal faves include ‘can you put a baby boy in coral?’ (I thought the Zara cardigan I was buying was red) and ‘which is more dominant, green or blue eyes?’ (green, in case anyone else was wondering).

Google search is every pregnant woman’s best friend and worst nightmare. They mostly tend to lead me into a rabbit hole of Mumsnet threads, of which I’ve read approx 74856, mostly in the middle of the night.


Hearing about how tired someone is, is probably on par with hearing about someone else’s dreams. Go away and come back when you’ve got a decent topic of conversation plz pal. But OMG THE TIREDNESS. IT NEVER ENDS. IT’S CONSTANT. IT’S SOUL-DESTROYING.

There have been times when I’ve fallen asleep in the car and have apparently let out a few really attractive snores (spoiler: I wasn’t driving) and times when I’ve had to hold Chris’s hand whilst we walk around the supermarket because I cannot keep my eyes open and am scared I’ll walk into something.

You can get 12 hours sleep a night, you can nap every day, you still feel like some broken zombie.


I heard all these tremendous stories about how you don’t even miss alcohol when you’re pregnant, and was like WAYOO. Turns out nope, not for me. I miss the stuff terribly (probably because I haven’t gone longer than a month without a drop for the past 15 years). I make Chris let me smell his glass of red wine when we go out for dinner, and spent a long time pining over cocktail menus whilst we were away in the States.

I’ve also had overwhelming cravings for all the things I’m not supposed to eat – I’ve always been the kind to want something more the minute I’m told I can’t have it. I would probably cut off a toe for a bit of buttery toast laden with pâté tbh.


Apparently you’re just constantly hotter than everyone else when you’re pregnant (and not in the cor, you one sexy gal kinda way) and I tell you what, in the current heatwave it’s about as fun as having a dog lick your face.

I mostly sit in front of the fan and try not to scream and pull my own skin off. I’ve been having to sleep downstairs too because I cannot deal with the heat upstairs, and the idea of actually sleeping next to Chris makes me feel incredibly suffocated and claustrophobic. Where my super king size bed and Dyson fan at?


People always talk about loss of identity when you have a baby and I always assumed that was something that happened once you’d actually had the baby and y’know were an actual fully-fledged mum. But no.

I really struggled with my sense of self in the early days, mostly because I was so tired and lethargic and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything that old Hannah would do. I couldn’t work at my usual capacity and it was hard to watch myself slip away into some lazy little sofa ogre, when all I wanted to do was take on the world.

My ‘sparkle’ has thankfully returned a bit now that I’m in my second trimester and I’m feeling a lot more like myself, but it’s still hard admitting you can no longer be the exact person you’ve been up until this point.

What other changes did you guys notice in your first trimester?

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