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32 weeks
I had a moment of panic yesterday morning. As I mentioned recently, Baby Boy's movements have slowed down now. The little guy has no problem rocking my belly with such force when he wants to, but his movements are definitely less frequent. Because of the lessened frequency of his kicks, I find myself constantly worried that he'll never kick again. It sounds crazy, I know, but sometimes, it just gets the better of me.
The girls went to their mother's Saturday evening, so Stephen and I took the opportunity to go out on a 'date'. We had intentions of dinner and a movie but things didn't quite go as we planned.
Firstly, we'd left things a bit late and didn't make any reservations for dinner. We didn't really know where we wanted to go anyway. So we decided to wing it and see what was available. We chose to see the movie in Basildon and, as the theatre is situated in a complex with quite a few restaurants, we didn't think we'd have any troubles choosing where to eat. How wrong we were. The place was crawling with just about every 14-year old on the earth! Young girls, dressed in mini skirts with way too much make-up on. Young boys with tongues down said girls' throats!
God, I sound old!
Anyway, we bought our movie tickets and went in search of somewhere to eat. We initially chose an Italian restaurant right next to the theatre. There was a huge queue all the way out the door! Then there was a place called Nando's. Packed. Pizza Hut? Nope. TGI Friday's? Not a chance. The only thing left within walking distance (we didn't have much time before the movie started) was McDonalds! Not what we had in mind.
So we hurried over (it was freezing cold!) and had a bite to eat, sitting among a loud and messy crowd of teens. We hung around just long enough to put some food in our bellies, then headed back out in the cold night.
We saw The Missing, starring Tommy Lee Jones and Cate Blanchet. It's a bit of a Western, which aren't usually my thing, but I really enjoyed it. Stephen loves Westerns, so it was right up his alley. My tastes were satisfied by a few gory/shocking scenes and an interesting storyline. We'd read a review of the movie before going in which said that the movie was too long (2 hours, 17 minutes) and that some parts could have been left out to shorten it without losing the plot. Although Stephen and I agreed with some of that, we still enjoyed it and would recommend it.
To go back to my baby worries for a minute: Baby Boy had been fairly 'quiet' all day Saturday. I'd felt little movements, but nothing significant. None of the big kicks that I'd have expected at 32 weeks. I tried to put the worry out of my mind. He was moving and that was what counted, right? But then, the midwife did say that we should contact the hospital if we notice a significant decrease in activity, didn't she?!
You can see how I got my mind all worked up in a panic!
Baby Boy moved around a bit during the movie and that comforted me. He moved a bit when I was in bed Saturday night too. But he was quiet again Sunday morning. My eating my breakfast didn't even seem to rouse him. I showered and dressed and worried the whole time, finally telling Stephen of my worries around lunchtime. I was upset and he did his best to comfort me. He leaned over my tummy and spoke to the baby: "Wake up now! Make your Mummy feel better and give us a kick!"
And he did. Baby Boy gave us a kick. Not a very powerful one and not more than one. I felt a bit better, knowing that he was still alive in there, but I still wasn't feeling 100% about everything.
I tried calling the hospital's 'midwife advice line', as I like to call it, knowing that they would simply suggest that I come in and have the heartbeat monitored. When the recorded voice informed me that their office hours were Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, I tried to tell myself that I was being silly. I thought back to a recent visit with my midwife. When I told her that most days, I could feel him move actively, whereas he was much calmer other days, she said that the position of the baby would effect how much of his movements I felt. For example, if he was still facing my left hip, I might feel his kicks and punches better than I would if he was facing my back. I decided that I'd wait it out a bit more and see if he got more active.
Around suppertime, I spent a bit of time bent over on my hands and knees, busying myself wih something or other. Standing straight again, I started to feel his movements. Everything had changed. I lay on my back on the bed and marvelled at how vigorous and strong they are at this age. My belly moved from side to side and I was thrilled. The movements continued well into the evening and I fell asleep to the comforting beating of my baby's hands and feet.
I'm convinced that my spending some time bent over meant that he moved or turned, allowing him to be in a position where I could feel him properly again. If ever I go through another stage like that where I can't feel him the way I expect to, I'll first try my new technique and try to get him to turn. Afterall, not only is that position suggested to ease back pain during labour, but I've also heard of it being used to help turn a baby who is not in the ideal position for birth, like a breech.
As I sit here typing, he's wriggling about... making his Mummy proud!
Yummm...
When I got to work today, a colleague called Sue announced that she'd brought in some crumpets. I assumed she meant that she'd brought them in for herself. There was a general discussion among a few people around me about how lovely and delicious crumpets were and I was asked my opinion on the subject. Yes, I said, I like crumpets too.
Well, Sue just came back from the kitchen with a plate of crumpets for herself. And she's just handed me a plate with 2 hot buttered crumpets on it!! I thought that was very nice and very generous. Those types of gestures never occur to me! If I wanted crumpets,
I'd most likely bring in 2. I'd toast them and eat them and never consider my colleagues!
Am I cruel?
With my last day nearing, I'll make sure that I bring in a little feast of cakes and goodies!
Flying high
There's an article in today's Daily Mail about IVF treatment (in-vitro fertilisation). The author of the article talks about her 'need' to have a baby and about how she and husband felt when they couldn't conceive.
It made me think about how I felt when I decided that I wanted a baby. Admittedly, I had no trouble conceiving - that happened within 3 months of coming off the pill - but I was still plagued with all the what-if's of trying. What if I can't conceive? What if I've damaged my body with my past partying? What if I have a miscarriage? Etc, etc. The worrying was there, even though nothing had happened to make me worry.
People talk about this infamous biological clock that women apparently have. It was not a notion I ever bought into until I felt the undeniable urge to be pregnant. It have to admit that it wasn't so much an urge to have a baby, raise a child, or dedicate my life to this child's wellbeing. It was something much more biological than that. It was an overpowering urge to simply be pregnant. The chemicals - whichever chemicals they are - must have been rampant through my body because it was something that I longed for with such intensity.
Don't get me wrong; I also wanted everything that came with being pregnant. I wanted to nurture the little life inside me. I wanted to give birth. I wanted to hold my newborn child and bring it up with all of life's luxuries and all the love my husband and I had.
I now believe in the biological clock. I ticked over and the alarm went off very suddenly for me. One day, I woke up and knew what I wanted. Hell, what I needed. The knowledge came not only from my inner clock, but also from the knowledge that I was in a secure relationship and that I wanted to share this huge event with him, and only him.
We're almost there now, at 32 weeks and 1 day. We count down the days until we get to meet our son, our first child. My husband told me the other day that he was really looking forward to holding his new son. And I cried. This has been the most amazing rollercoaster of emotions for me. I've never experienced anything like it. I've felt such a heavy weight of worry, but I've also felt such huge highs, like when I felt the first kick or when I first saw our baby on the ultrasound screen. I imagine that holding the baby will be my ultimate reward, my ultimate joy, but having him here, inside me, is more awesome than my mind can fathom at the moment.
If things only get better, then I'm flying high.
Days left of work: 3
And amazingly, my boss still hasn't told me who will be doing some of my work while I'm gone. When I asked him last week, he said that he'd get back to me on it. Still waiting! But then, what do I care? I've reminded him about that and many other things and nothing has been done. It won't be me that put out.
Walking to work has been difficult recently. I get such a discomfort in my groin now! It's horrible. I liken it to the feeling you get when you have to pee so badly that each step hurts. Do you know what I mean? You take gentle steps on your tiptoes with your face contorted into a look that says "get me to a toilet".
The pain makes me stop for a second until it eases. I suppose I could be experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. It doesn't feel like the typical 'tightening' that people describe, but the immense pressure I feel on my bladder probably means a BH contraction!
I'm really looking forward to not having to do this walk twice a day!! Only 3 days left!
Second Antenatal Class
I went to my second Antenatal class this morning. It was much more interesting than the first. I can confirm that I did not have to sit through an hour-long session on child car safety!
Instead Liz the midwife spent the whole 2 hours talking about labour, birth and pain relief. We talked about breathing for labour, birthing pools, Entonox (gas & air), the TENS machine, Pethidine and epidurals. Baby Boy jerked around pretty much the whole time I was there. I think he knew we were talking about him and his imminent arrival. Cheeky!
Liz also handed around a whole bunch of hardware, for lack of a better word popping to mind. (You can see how computer-minded I am!) We saw a ventouse (the suction thingy to help baby down the birth canal if he's being a bit stubborn). We saw the forceps too! What a painful and downright yucky contraption that is. She showed us an epidural needle. No, thank you!! A catheter, a assortment of tubes, IVs and such as well.
Liz also had a model of the pelvic bones and a doll to show us how the baby should travel through the gap. Of course, babies don't always cooperate and do as they should, so we were also shown all the other ways a baby might decide to try the decent. I was interested to learn that they will not consider a vaginal birth if the baby is in breech position. Especially not for a first-time Mum, who, of course, has never had a baby travel down that canal before. They will immediately opt for a C-section unless the labour has progressed far enough for the baby to have entered the birth canal before they realize that it is in breech position.
We also discussed birth plans. Liz suggested that we simply be prepared for some of the questions that will be thrown our way, rather than write up a birth plan. These written plans, she says, often go right out the window because things rarely go as we expect them to.
So, all in all, I feel like today has been a productive learning experience and I'm glad I went. A lot of my questions have been answered and I feel much more prepared for what's to come.
Oh, one other thing, I reminded Liz about something she'd said last week about women tending to follow in their mother's footsteps as far as birth and babies go. I told her about my Mum having me at 35 weeks, my brother at 33 weeks and my sister at 38 weeks, and about how we were all small babies. She shrugged and reiterated that, although there were no steadfast rules, there was every likelihood that I would not be one to go overdue. It is possible, of course, but unlikely.
It does not mean that my baby will be born next week either! But I think I'll get that suitcase packed now anyway...
Shhh...
The girl who was supposed to take over some of my work while I'm gone has just handed in her resignation. My boss told me, but I'm not supposed to know yet.
Shhh... It's a secret...
In the bigger picture though, who will do my work? A day and half left of work. No one has been trained. Not my problem.
Ugh... bloated...
Second to last day at work! Yippee! I brought in a whole load of goodies for the starving troops today including sausage rolls, Pringles, Bakewell Tarts and lots, lots more. I laid it all out on the table almost 2 hours ago and watched their eyes widen. You could almost hear their tummies growling!
So I'm Miss Popularity now, with those who knew I was pregnant cooing about baby stuff and those who didn't know (generally speaking, all the men!) looking down at my tummy with stupified realization. You got it, boys, I'm not fat, I'm pregnant! After I'd laid out the food, one of them even said "Happy Birthing".
Another guy said to me, "It's your birthday?"
Before I could reply, the first guy repeated, "No, I said Happy BIRTHING."
How strange.
I'll be in here again Monday morning, but I get to leave around 2pm for another doctor's appointment. It's the one that the midwife made with my consultant to discuss my itchy legs and abdomen. The itching still isn't agonizing, but it certainy is annoying. I know that itchy skin is normal during pregnant and is due to the increased levels of Progesterone and Estrogen in my body, but I'd still like to be told that my itchiness is not dangerous to my baby. My legs look a bit blotchy at the moment - probably the effect of my scratching, which I'm trying hard not to do. Not the most attractive thing in the world!
Ugh... bloated... I've eaten way too much...
Damn it, damn it, damn it!
Off the baby topic for a minute (I do have other interests, you know!)...
Damn it, damn it, damn it! Schumacher has qualified first in Melbourne, with his Ferrari partner, Barrichello, right behind him. I ask you: will this season even be worth watching?!
I was dismayed to not see Villeneuve's name on the list as well. I mean, I was well aware that we wasn't racing this season, but I still found myself searching out his name to find out how he qualified, like I always did in the past. Hey, he may be a bit of a jackass, and possibly over-rated as a driver, but he was the only Canadian and I miss him already. Time to get Carpentier or Tagliani in from CART racing, me thinks!
And finally, on a positive note, Stephen and I are looking forward to seeing how Button does this season. He has qualified an impressive 4th! Interesting how things are finally looking up for BAR now that Villeneuve is gone...
The race is on live at 3am (coverage starts at 2am) here in England. Stephen says that he'll be up to watch it. Me, pregnant and exhausted... we'll see. I'd like to watch it, but I know myself. With the race finishing at 5am, I'll spend Sunday not only knackered, but cranky too. And with two Ferraris on top, what's the point...
As predicted...
... Schumacher ran away with it. Barrichello chased Mikey's tail. What's new? This is a bad start to the season!
Stephen got up at 2:50am to watch the race live. I slept through most of it, rolling toward the TV just a couple of times to see who was leading. The first time I rolled over, I saw the red car and red helmet of Schumacher. Groaning, I rolled away from the TV and back into sleep. A little while later, I took another peak and was depressed to see that damn red car again. And finally, looking again, I saw the slow-motion replay of that guy waving from his car. He won. I went back to sleep.
I'm not too fond of ITV's new screen graphics either. Everything's much smaller and I'm finding that it's not as easy to follow as it used to be (I'm watching the re-run of the race now). But then, maybe it's just going to take some getting-used-to.
On the baby front: my sister-in-law called a few minutes ago to discuss the party that their throwing next weekend for Stephen's parents' 50th wedding anniversary. She asked about the pregnancy and about how big I was getting. She told me about a friend of her's that was 37th weeks pregnant with twins! Each twin, they estimate, weighs about 7 pounds right now. Apparently, this woman can hardly move she's so big! No kidding. I was surprised she hadn't given birth yet!
I'm blaming a lazy Sunday afternoon and sleep interrupted by the Grand Prix, but I feel exhausted. I think I'll turn the volume down on the TV and lie down for a bit. It's my last day at work tomorrow, then I have a doctor's appointment in the afternoon, then I'm free! Free to put my feet up! Yippee!
