Thursday, 31 May 2012

34 weeks


Or: Holy Crap it's getting close!

My midwife came to see us at home on Tuesday to discuss "THE BIRTH" and also to squeal at a bundle of fluffy animal print nappies, our (fac,eb.ook) wedding photos, our rings, my dress.

We discussed all sorts of scary scenarios. Including the one where my waters break while Marmaduke is transverse. Including my bum-in-the-air-on-all-fours position until the ambulance arrives; my bum-in-the-air-on-all-fours transfer to hospital position (oh. my. god.) and poor Ray visibly paled when told that if the cord had come out HE had to "cup it gently' to keep it warm. The cord prolapsed when we lost George. It bought back some memories.

However. When examining my bump and prodding around A LOT. She decided that Marmaduke was head down (hooray!). Unfortunately he is still moving about quite a bit but it's nice to know that he is capable of finding his own way to the exit.

The birth pool is closed and has been turned into an emergency OR (boo) but I will be able to labour in a bath if appropriate (hooray). Apparently they have "amazing" birthing beds which can be contorted into all sorts of positions as well as yoga balls, mats and bean bags.

All sorts of lovely drugs are available, if I want them. Although they try to discourage epidurals because mobility and gravity help. I have NO idea how I will cope with the pain so I'm open to almost anything!

If I go into labour naturally (and we discussed various methods for getting it going at 37+ weeks to avoid induction) a midwife will come out to assess me and if all is normal I can stay at home for a while or go to hospital. I like choices.

Do I have a birth plan?

A living breathing baby. Does that count?

My blood pressure was "perfect". No sign of protein or infection in pee. Baby's heart beat was perfect. It's all surreal. I'm still expecting things to go wrong. Even with all the (I love fleabay) baby clothes drying all over the place. Even with the pram. Even with the small mountain of cloth nappies. Even with the huge belly and brutal kicking. It all seems so abstract.

He is coming isn't he?

He is real?

:::

I was talking with my Mum on the phone on Tuesday evening - she'd had a bad day with my Dad and a new carer stinking of pee (her own - long story) and at one point I said loudly, "OH MY GOD". Ray, in the living room not realising I was on the phone, came running in, "WHAT'S WRONG?????!!!!". Poor love had a bad night of nightmares that night - blame the midwife - blame my phone conversation with my Mum. Poor Ray!

:::

Swimming Floating yesterday was soooo nice. Virtually weightless lump of me and him bobbing around = bliss. Getting out of the pool was not nice at all. With each step out of the pool I felt heavier and heavier and heavier and heavier. Ugh!

:::

Thank you for the hospital bag suggestions. In the UK virtually nothing is provided. (As wonderful as a free NHS is: they have to save money). I will take baby clothes, swaddling muslins. nappies, cotton wool and towels. For myself: A couple of cheap (throwaway) nightshirts to labour in (nicer than hospital robes), pyjamas for afterwards/going home clothes, maternity pads (oh how I came to despise them after losing George), nursing bra, breast pads, slippers and towels. Cameras, ipod, phones (internet enabled - don't worry Danielle; I will let you know!), ereader if induced and it takes time and I can be bothered, snack food just in case he's born late and we're starving!

:::

Am I ready?

Ummm....




Thursday, 24 May 2012

33 weeks

We had another growth scan on Wednesday and Marmaduke is doing so well. He is measuring a little ahead and growth is steady and normal. Normal normal normal. How I love that word.

We have no scan photo this time. He was transverse with his back up and head and legs curled under playing poke-the-cervix. His face was hidden but we had a truly awesome view of his buttocks, penis and testicles. The lovely sonographer giggled throughout.

The consultant wouldn't book us in for induction while Marmaduke refuses to head in the right direction, at least on scan day. She mentioned exterior cephalic version and vaguely hinted at caesarean. I, on the other hand went off to spinning babies to do some research when we got home. I'm not worried, not yet: he still turns a lot. There is time. I have a month until the next scan.

I'm not doing quite as well as Marmaduke. I'm often stupidly sore from the tiny, I said tiny fibroid spot near my belly button. A now-non-growing evilfibroid, less than 2cm has at times reduced me to tears. At the end of the day it's sore. Standing for too long makes it sore. Sitting for too long makes it sore. When he moves underneath it feels as if something is ripping. It isn't. There's nothing terrible going on there. It's just an area that doesn't like stretching. Still, I'll gladly take this pain if it means he gets to come home, thank you very much. And it's a good excuse (as if I need one) for wallowing in the bath nearly every night.

We bought a car seat today. It's getting easier to buy stuff now even though it still feels a bit abstract. I'm looking at the car seat now trying to imagine that new and unique mix of him and me sitting in it and almost getting there.

We are so close now.

Thank you for the name suggestions, a couple were already on my list and I'm adding to it almost daily. 



We've been married for five whole days now and it's as lovely as it was before we were married apart from getting to call him hubbywubbywoo and being called wifeywibbywoo. Yes indeed we are that silly. He wakes up and says "Good morning Mrs Brown". I'm waiting for a dvd of the wedding photos before I post about it but it was such a fun day!

Ray's friend (with 2 small children) told him that he thought I had about two weeks left and Ray has been fussing about hospital bags ever since. I have a small tube of toothpaste and a dressing gown. What should I take?





Thursday, 10 May 2012

31 weeks


There are only 9 days until we get married.

Marmaduke is kicking the laptop as I type. He has been belting the hell out of my internal ladyparts the last few days and making me squeak. I swear he hit the chair under me last night. Hopefully he won't make me squeak and clutch my pubic area during the ceremony.

Ray showed me a speech he had written for our wedding.  He wasn't going to make a speech; my Dad can't make a speech and Ray's best man would probably run a mile if he even knew he was best man and not just Ray's "witness" so we had delegated that honour to his step-dad, a natural born speech-maker. I think taking the pressure off has made it easier for Ray and he decided he would write one.

He wrote it while I was wallowing at the swimming pool (bliss) and handed it to me after he bought me home. I read it and burst into tears. "Why did you give me this when I'm a hormonal tired wreck waaaaa". He wrote some lovely things. I will probably blog it as I bore you to death with our wedding photos.

I burst into tears the other day too. Because I was breathless, sore and aching and just couldn't get comfortable and I SO very much needed an afternoon nap.

Nobody mentions that hugswithabump are a bit awkward.

I almost did it again when one of Ray's family gave us some hand knitted jackets and a hooded towel.

I think our wedding might get a bit emotional and I'm not sure that my mascara is waterproof.






Thursday, 3 May 2012

30 weeks


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?!





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