Oh good day to you!
I’ve not been able to chat of late because of a few factors – main one being that I forgot my login password (I’d like to take this opportunity to use the Pregnancy Brain card please, Eddie – lock it in)…
Other factors include increased whinging and moaning bought on by a weeks worth of head cold action and then a further week of the gastro virus – i know right! How dare i not share these horrific details with you….!
No no, i thought it best to lay off the words whilst I was using so many F words at the time.
You’re welcome guys.
I’ve just been told that I am at about the 32 week mark at this point (have to check my app which tells me these things), and according to this app this tiny human is about the size of a florida pomelo….
What the fk is a florida pomelo, I hear you say? Glad you asked
That’s not me by the way, but I am glad that the demonstrated fruit is now starting to represent the size of my gut – going by the tightening of my clothes i would say the pomelo in my stomach is likened to a SUPER BIG ONE on steroids.
If my baby was born today, it would look like this:
NAH, Just kidding! (thanks google images for a lifetime of giggles by the way).
So, with my latest growth spurt (outwards, not upwards), the pressure in my pelvic region has grown with it and the pain is back with a vengeance. I enjoyed those pain free weeks, but I knew in my heart it was only temporary. I’ve since given up the imaginary skipping and sand running and gone back to picturing swimming in a bath filled with pain killers.
A colleague had a giggle today and said “hahaha wouldn’t it be funny if they strapped all your belly from the bottom up to try and lift the weight”…. Ummm… that’s actually what they’ve done… It feels as though i have a human abseiling down my body and has let go of too much of the rope and almost hanging upside down… (that totally made more sense in my head by the way)…. So anyway, back to the walking sticks we go.
We are on the home stretch now though, that being officially 8 weeks to go ….. wait…. EIGHT WEEKS? NOOOOOOOOOOO! That actually feels like a life time and i honestly don’t think my skin has any more stretching capacity in it….
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about food/snacks that contain a LOT of sugar, too much for a human if i’m honest… I’ve even been thinking a lot about drinking soft-drink – which is usually a no go zone but it’s happened….. This means i’m about to fill out more and go to a BIGGURL status! Time to cut back on pie purchases, even though i now have a good relationship with the pie clerk (totally her official title), and she’s basically given me a gold membership to their chunky beef pies…. she stamps the shit out of my ‘reward’ card (as in those cards they give out to entice you to come back 10 times to get a freebie), I must go in looking poor because she slaps on 3 extra stamps every time and I’m benefiting from this with a free pie every 4 days or so, perhaps she’s a Feeder of sorts…. not sure, but I keep going back…. Sometimes I find myself driving in a complete opposite direction so as not to have my car drive me into the car park of said pie shop – it’s the car, not my lack of self control….
I am booking in for a c-section next week and my Chiropractor has advised me to really emphasis the discomfort (“cry if you think it will give you a couple of weeks off the date”)…. I don’t really think i have to try too hard to ’emphasising’ the shitness of it all, but if i don’t see that they are convinced I’ll be crying alright. Even if i can get in a week or 2 earlier, that should be ok.
This little person has now taken to using my bladder as a trampoline, and doing it’s little jumps in the most awkward situations for me. I was doing the grocery shopping on the weekend, minding my own business, when all of a sudden the baby did what seemed to be a triple somersault with a flawless land right on top of my bladder, at the point of impact i just had to stand there with what i can only imagine to be a drained look on my face wondering if it was at that very moment that I wet myself in the middle of aisle 3 in Woollies. That would have been a first (for me, i’m sure it’s happened before). I wasn’t concerned about the loss of dignity that would have come with that – i lost that a long time ago when Billy graduated to coming to the toilet with me, it was just the idea of having to notify a stranger that there was a ‘mess in aisle 3’ – can just imagine the PA blast “CLEAN UP AISLE 3 – HEAVILY PREGNANT WOMAN PEED HER PANTS AND IS BLAMING THE BABY, CLEAN UP AISLE 3”. And what would i say? Do i tell a fib and say my waters broke? what next though, would I be rushed to hospital in fake labour??? So many factors to consider, this is why i am a terrible fibber in general…. I would have just said “um…. please don’t walk in my piss – here i’ll pass you the weetbix you want…”
It was at that point that I decided I needed to get home ASAP, and from this point forward, either Jim can do the shopping or it’s done online. EEEK!
Anyway, enough of this. I’ve got to get my little fella from day care, who I might add, seems to know there’s something happening to his mum’s belly – and i think it’s more than “gee, mum’s packing on the weight lately”. He doesn’t let Jim touch my gut, and if i lift my shirt up and say “Billy, look at mummy’s tummy there’s a baby” he’ll stop what he’s doing, storm over and pull my shirt down, even going to the point of tucking it into my pants. Hilarious to watch…!
He did the opposite to his Nanna the other day though, lifted her shirt up and said Beebee….. oh no, Son!
With the official count down really on, and now that I’ve finished the uni semester i should really consider making a move on this baby’s room…. Maybe I’ll start this weekend….. Maybe.
As always, check the size of my little mate’s hand – there’s almost no more growing to be done – it feels like only yesterday that you had to squint to make out the pink dot……