Thursday, 3 May 2012
I'm trying not to let these posts become a constant repetition of "Wow! I'm ** weeks, can you believe it?!?!?!?". But it's entirely how I feel. I am constantly amazed. I look myself in the eye in the mirror and a surprised and soppy grin covers my face. I'm still pregnant. This baby is real. He moves. He shifts, wobbles my belly and kicks my bladder.
Ray says that we might as well start throwing money out of the window now just to get used to it. He says he only has 10 weeks left to play his computer games and when I point out that it's probably only 9 weeks he sighs dramatically (this is all in jest you understand). He is starting to believe more and more. So am I. Mostly. He tells me to stop poking the boy, who is going to come out tired if I'm not careful. I don't mind if he comes out tired, cross and furious as hell as long as he comes out alive. We can love the happy back into him.
George is on my mind. When Marmaduke arrives, will he look like George?
Will I smother him with all of the stored-up love squashed and bound into my battered heart? No wonder it beats so fast.
I want both of my sons. I wonder who Little Poppet was and I want all three.
I bought some cloth nappies on fleabay. Apart from the pram (which is now folded up and as hidden away as it can be), in the drawer under the bed we have; two sleeping bags, a pile of muslins, a cloth baby carrier and two swaddling sheets. I can not buy clothes however (the sleeping bags don't seem to count). Clothes are too real, too ready to be filled. Not yet. I need a few more weeks.
Since the consultant poked the moderately sore spot on my belly and told me it was an evilfibroid and not happy about being stretched, I have been having some horribly sore evilfibroid pain that has seriously limited my activities for the last week or so (psychosomatic?). I wake up without pain there (it lives in my hips overnight) and I work on my dress for a little while or we go out and do something for an hour or so and then the rest of the day I am progressively more doubled up. A bath takes it away for as long as I'm in the bath and oh my but the swimming pool was heavenly today but if I do too much (which isn't much at all) I'm wrecked and then it takes 5 minutes of lowering myself delicately into bed. Dammit I have things to do and I don't much care for the thought of being in pain on our wedding day!
But I can deal with any pain as long as he is ok.
I am lost when it comes to names. Ray isn't ready to begin choosing but there are some that I like and I'm making a list for him to trash and add to when he's ready.
But maybe some help?
When you look at us can you imagine what our new son will be called? (I'm not necessarily looking for traditional names and it doesn't have to "go" with George.) Something cool for a little hipster?!