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Saturday, 11 August 2012

little one: 23 weeks

Life has been speeding along, and with the relocation less than 2 weeks away, I know it probably won't slow down until we're in the new house. Even when we aren't packing or sorting out logistics for the move, the 'to do' list is constantly in the back of my mind. That's the part that I find so draining. It's the limbo of knowing things will change, but having to wait for it all to kick off.

That said, the pregnancy has been going well. So well that I tend to forget I'm pregnant. I suppose with this being my 2nd pregnancy and everything else being so busy I don't get chance to sit and daydream. It's usually when I feel the kicks or start to feel tired that I remember I'm carrying a little one with me.

That's why I'm blessed to have gotten an extra scan this week. When I see the little one moving around on screen I definitely feel connected and bonded. It's a justified reason to step away from all the hectic preparations and just sit staring at our tiny gift.

I'd had a scan at 20 weeks and baby was being awkward. They managed to do a lot of the necessary checks (enough that they assured me everything looked ok...phew), but they wanted me to come back to see if they could check off everything before I moved. I had to go to the 20 week scan solo because Hubby was working, so I think the sonogrammer wanted to give us an excuse to be together when we found out for definite if I'm carrying a boy or girl (she was pretty sure she knew, but said it would be more convincing if I came back and her colleague gave her opinion without knowing what was said previously).

And with that said, at the last scan the technician was convinced (and therefore confirmed) that we were having a....

After 5 grandsons my Mother-in-law was definitely hoping for a 'wee change', so she was delighted. It's not that we were hoping either way, I just preferred to know. There's always a remote chance that the technicians got it wrong and we end up with a huge surprise in December, but we'll be over the moon either way.

So now starts the fun part of imagining what our little girl will be like. We'll try to decide on names, and friends have already started to put aside hand-me-downs for her arrival.

It's all good fun, and I'm hoping to get chance to daydream about it all very soon.

Monday, 9 July 2012

little one: 17 weeks

I feel like this post could have been titled 'bacon & bath tubs!'.

I love me some bacon
I guess you could call it a craving, although I don't wake up thinking about it (not yet anyway), but whatever you call it I have definitely been loving the salty crunch of this particular cured meat. Only side affect is it always brings on heartburn. But chugging a bit of antacid is a small price to pay in my opinion. I'm just happy that the sickness has stayed away and I'm gaining back a bit of my appetite. 

Check up with midwife
I had my check up with my midwife on Tuesday. Everything is ticking along nicely. I heard the baby's heartbeat, strong and steady. So all the nerves about not feeling the baby move recently disappeared. 
Baby bump
Missing the bubbles
Total cliché, but I really miss having a bath. Our rental property only has a shower (albeit a fancy one) and so I can't soak in the tub like I did during my last pregnancy. I have fond memories of regularly reading, listening to music and completely unwinding in the water before bed. It soothed my backache and gave me time to relax and day dream about the baby I was carrying.

That doesn't really happen at the moment. I sit on the sofa or lie in bed, but it's not the same. I'm not able to recreate the haven that my ol' bathroom used to be. If I get really desperate I can always go to my in-laws place for a soak, but it's not the same. 

I guess life is pretty good when the only thing I can complain about it missing having an indulgent soak in the tub. Better believe that wherever we end up in Preston, it will have a bath! And after scrubbing it to death, I'm going to be spending a lot of time in that tub. 

Monday, 2 July 2012

the land of odd

I don't usually remember my dreams. The details tend to disappear as I wake up, and the 'feeling' of the dream fades quickly too. But recently my dreams have been vivid and emotional.
A sleepy pic of Bubba, as I can't get a pic of me :)
For example, a few nights ago, I dreamt I was in our old house (it wasn't exactly the same but I recognised it) and there had been a flood downstairs. I went to what was supposed to be my room on the ground floor and was happy that I'd obviously emptied everything out to avoid stuff getting damaged. But then I opened a huge wardrobe and at the very bottom were all my Mom's belongings. Her sewing machines, the photos, her jewellery. Everything was ruined, and I couldn't understand how I'd saved all the replaceable stuff, but forgotten to save those precious things. Needless to say I was gutted.

I guess it was a mixture of seeing the recent flash floods all over the news, thinking about packing up the house for our relocation, and then the fear of forgetting my Mom. Or maybe there's another, less obvious explanation? Either way it was not a pleasant dream.

Then the night before last, I had a dream I was babysitting for our best friends, and their oldest son was beginning to get on my nerves (strange as he's a sweetheart in real life). So we (oh yeah my husband just appeared in the room) end up having a huge argument with our friends and they say they don't want to see us ever again. Argh! Gutted again.

This one is a little trickier as nothing remotely confrontational has happened recently. I've found child minding draining since the hormones and sickness started, but I've also done my best to remain patience even when I felt rubbish. As for falling out with our closest friends? I have no idea. I've had a few dreams where they move away and I feel distraught, but maybe this was linked to my deep worry that we'll lose their friendship when we move so far away from them?

I can't remember last night's dream (maybe that's a blessing), but yesterday was spent doing lovely, restful things, so there was no real opportunity for stress to creep in.

I'll need to wait and see if my dreams go haywire again as we get closer to the relocation in August. I'm hoping I got it all out of my system, but pregnancy hormones mixed with the stress of moving away from the ones we love is bound to trigger some reaction.

For now I'll try to stay relaxed and calm, and if the land of nod becomes my therapy retreat again, I'll try to count my blessings that I'm working out my emotional shizzle.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

little one: 16 weeks

Time is definitely flying by me these days. I'd planned a 15 weeks update, but that went out the window.

Last week we celebrated Bubba's 4th Birthday (still need to post about it) and most of my free time was spent thinking about him and his party. I do remember that while I was busy talking to Hubby about birthday details the baby started kicking or punching really hard, almost like it wanted attention. Could there be jealousy brewing already ha ha.

Tired, tired, tired
Since last week not much has changed. I've felt extremely tired, and Hubby regularly sees me disappear for a 'quick' afternoon nap, only for me to reappear just before dinner after he's been Bubba's play mate and general dogs body for hours. He says he doesn't mind, but I still feel bad for him. So I've been trying to make the effort to do more things around the house. Hopefully the tiredness will decrease and Hubby won't be left alone so often.

Rest rooms
The nausea seems to have died down (feel like I just jinxed it ha ha), but it's been replaced with a constant upset stomach. Not a pleasant detail (apologies if it's over sharing), but this happened with my last pregnancy too. It's as though the hormones play havoc with my system and I either need to barf or use the loo.

When I was carrying Bubba I had to commute to the city 5 days a week and regularly got stuck in traffic or on the underground. I had many stressful journeys where I was so desperate for a bathroom that I burst into tears because I felt so stressed at being trapped. So I'm counting my blessings that I'm no longer commuting, and there's almost always a rest room nearby if I need it.

Hand me downs make me happy
On a more positive note, I've been given a few hand me downs which always makes me happy. I was given some newborn long sleeved vests from a friend who didn't get chance to use them for her little boy before he outgrew them. Exactly what I'll need as little one will arrive in the middle of winter.

And after thinking about how to save money and space on the potential bassinet/cot/crib money pit, my best friend gave me her perfect condition, multi-function travel cot. It's roomy when open, compact when folded down and has a raised bassinet attachment, as well as a changing station attachment too. Free, pre-loved and space saving are a few of my favourite things.

Obviously we need to wait and see what suits the little one (we may end up simply co-sleeping with the baby), but having the travel cot seems a perfect solution if we do want a cot and has taken a weight off my mind.

I'm really looking forward to my next check up, and I'm getting excited about the next scan (usually around 20 weeks) where they check over the baby, and may be able to tell if it's a boy or a girl.

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

yes, my son is awesome, now deal with it

The cliquey group of mothers that huddle together at the school gate is not a new phenomenon. But it still took me by surprise when, after smiling as I passed them, a few of this group blatantly, and silently, looked me up and down without as much as a smile back. How rude! 

That was my introduction to these ladies on Bubba's first week, and they haven't been any friendlier since. Thankfully my confidence is not based on what those kind of people think. And it made me realise that I've come a long way from my school days when not being part of the 'cool' gang stung quite a bit. And in all honesty I don't believe those kind of groups are the 'cool' gang. Especially after I overheard one of their enlightened conversations discussing how to lose weight by 'skipping breakfast and lunch and just drinking skinny wine instead' (100% true story). 

Maybe it's bitchy of me, but really?! If that's what the popular moms are talking about I'm grateful to be away from that nonsense. 

Then there are the competitive parents. They come in at various levels, but are still annoying to witness.

The ones who push in front of me and my son to get through the nursery door. (Oh right, I see that the queue doesn't apply to you and your child, and of course my son doesn't mind being rammed into the wall by your arse, he's getting used to how rude you are.)

The ones who do their child's homework for them (seriously your 3 year old could not have decorated an egg that intricately, he can barely hold a pencil). 

The ones who shout loudly about the amount their child has raised for the sponsored walk (hurray for the extra cash for school activities, but why shout about it?) 

The ones who appear on the last day of school carrying a ridiculously huge present for the teacher and smugly shove the other modest gifts out the way so that their offering can take pride of place in the middle the desk (thankfully I held in my 'wtf' comment and got out of the room as quickly as possible)

Then there are the worse breed of competitive parents, the 'sports day sore losers'. After my son won both the individual races by a clear mile (well it was only by 5 meters or so but still), I was approached by parents on two separate occasions asking about him.
super blurry, but they were moving pretty fast for pre schoolers
At first I thought it a welcome change from being ignored, but after the 'didn't he do well' comments came the questions about how old he was. 

After establishing that Bubba was actually one of the younger children in the nursery, both parents seemed a bit put out. Strange reactions, but then it dawned on me, they just wanted to find a reason for why their child hadn't won. It had to be because my son had some age advantage. But no, as it happens he's one of the younger ones and simply has a natural talent for sprinting. 

I'll admit I felt pride seeing my son run so well and win. Especially because I hadn't coached him or expected anything other than for him to try his best. He looked so focused and pleased as he sprinted that I couldn't help but wonder whether athletics will be in his future.  

And in all honesty, I felt a hint of smugness as I realised that the cliquey, competitive parents were a bit pissed off by how good he was. 

Oh goodness, hopefully I'm not turning into one of those annoying parents myself!