A BIG inflatable silver ball is taking pride of place in our lounge at the moment. Instead of sitting on the sofa I am supposed to 'relax' by sitting upright on the ball - this apparently encourages the baby to get into the right position (at the moment it obviously hasnt figured out where the exit is and is lying across my stomach instead of head down). I dont know if anyone out there has tried 'relaxing' by sitting bolt upright (not forgetting to tilt the pelvis forward) on a giant inflatable ball, but it is about as far from relaxing as trying to ride a unicycle. One minute I'm on, the next minute, after a lapse in concentration, the ball has rolled and I am off...
I have also been told to lean forwards (never back) when sitting on a chair. With a job that involves sitting at a desk all day, this is not very practical - my head seems to be practically touching my computer screen. Apparently some people take their inflatable balls with them to work to sit on at their desks - hmmmm this seems a bit desperate but I have it as a last resort if the baby doesnt co-operate and move in the next couple of weeks.
Next week is week 30 - great, I have been dying to get into the thirties, only 10 weeks of pot bellied life to go! On the other hand, only 10 weeks to buy absolutely everything I need. At the moment I have only purchased baby coat hangers (three - yellow gingham padded ones) they are very nice but I suppose it's time to think about investing in more urgent equipment. - pram, car seat, cot etc and about decorating the nursery (yellow to match the coat hangers of course).
NCT Ante natal classes are going well, they are really helpful and Steve has only ducked out of one so far, not bad. In November I will start NHS ante natal classes and am thinking about some special pregnancy yoga classes - with all this and check-up appointments with the midwife, being pregnant is turning out to be a full time job.
I am starting to think about my birthing plan and my ideal scenario for labour. Obviously, any plan will probably go out of the window at the first sign of pain and I will be bossing everyone around ordering the highest doses of any pain relief possible. Ideally, however, it would be nice to think I could get by on gas and air alone. I would like some new pyjamas, a new dressing gown and some smart but comfy slippers for my time in hospital, I will also be needing lots of flowers, chocolates and some champagne for after the event. I will have to make sure these points are made clear on my plan. I would also like Steve to be present, awake, alert, calm and reassuring at all times. Hmmm
I am thinking about using washable nappies, although most people I mention this to chuckle as if to say 'ahhh that's nice - I give you five days before you resort to disposables'. Well, we'll see, at least I am starting out with the right intentions, if anyone has any advice/recommendations on re-usable nappies that would be great.
Bye bye for now,,,
Alongside a rapidly expanding waistline being pregnant also gives you an invisible radar used to detect other expectant women and babies.
I can now spot a pregnant lady or a tiny baby a mile-off, all of a sudden they seem to everywhere I go. Tummies so big that they frighten me are lurking around every corner and every shop has at least one aisle blocked by a mum struggling with a pram. Maybe I didn¹t notice them before I realised I was about to join their club.
A bulging tum is a great conversation starter. Now that it is fairly obvious that I am pregnant and not just a bit chubby round the edges, strangers offer advice along with their best wishes. I love it! Cashiers at checkouts, shoppers in queues and even the man from BT have all offered me the benefit of their parenting experiences with nuggets of information and anecdotes. I should be walking around with a notebook or a Dictaphone (oh, as a journalist perhaps I should be anyway) to make sure no gem of information is forgotten.
Apparently I am having a boy, I haven't found out officially, but this is the general consensus from the man on the street. It¹s all to do with the way I am carrying, I have been told all up front means it¹s definitely a boy.
Personally, and far be it for me to have an opinion, I¹m just the incubator, I thought a girl was more likely. My theory is based on probability in that all my friends seem to have had boys.
The first ante-natal class was a success, no tuts and frowns from parenting know-it alls, no rule books thrust in my face and, to my relief, no role plays! I'm not sure what I had thought these plays might involve, doesn¹t really bare thinking about, Steve was well behaved, he seemed to take the whole thing quite seriously and I managed not to giggle during the relaxation exercise (it was touch and go though). We even had chocolate biscuits at half time, I will definitely go again.
Swimming was also surprisingly unproblematic. The most traumatic moment was catching my side profile in the changing room mirror as I waddled to the pool complete Well, must go and try and find a winter coat that will do up.
Any advice on babies and birth welcome.
ACCORDING to my husband I have an alien growing inside me – he reached this conclusion after a highly scientific test during which he communicated with my unborn baby (or extra-terrestrial life form).
The test, for anyone else with a bulging belly curious about the cause, went something like this…
Steve: "Now listen baby – we need some information. Give me one kick if you’re a girl, two if you’re a boy. No kicks will be taken to mean you are neither… and are probably an alien."
Predictably, as seems to happen whenever Steve tries to feel a kick, there was no response from the bump. Obviously an alien.
Well, whatever it is, we are now in week 26 and it has definitely discovered that it can move. Infact, I think it is a dancer. I can feel twists, twirls and definitely some high kicks – maybe it is has been influenced by the TV trailers for the new Strictly Come Dancing series. It is hard to concentrate at work when, all of a sudden, you feel your new life form practising disco moves inside you.
Next week we (me, Steve and bump) start ante natal classes, which should be fun (if a little scary). Steve is under strict instructions not to mention aliens, let’s give ourselves a chance with these people, let them at least think we are normal.
A couple of months ago I felt very bitter about the glowing pregnant women who seemed to be every where I went, claiming they had never felt better, had bags of energy and what a joy it was to be expecting. Hormonal changes must have turned them into compulsive liars, I decided.
But I am now eating my words (along with anything remotely edible I come across). The second trimester is soooo much easier than the first. The feeling of permanent exhaustion has passed, the queasiness has vanished and my energy levels sometimes seem higher than pre-pregnancy! I have turned into one of the irritating smug ones.
For now (mustn’t be complacent - I am always anticipating the next step) life is good. The fact that Steve and I are living in a pokey one-bed annexe while renovating a house (which will hopefully be ready before the bump is) now seems bearable, living without a washing machine, phone and kitchen is back (as it was pre-pregnancy) to being an adventure and thinking about the next few months provokes excitement, not tears (all blamed on hormones of course) and panic.
I even feel up to attempting some exercise, for the first time in months, and might give my very attractive maternity swimming costume a test run over the weekend – bump could modify its dance moves into some kind of synchronised swimming routine. Not sure how swimming with a pot belly will feel, or whether the extra weight will affect the way I float in the water and make me roll about so that I always end up face down. Hmmm, only one way to find out…..