BTW This is a pic of me at 20wks - Daddy finally scanned me in from aaaages ago. This is the pic Mummy said looked the least blob-like - tch!
And HOW! Mummy's convinced her belly is growing on a daily basis. She is already outgrowing the maternity clothes she only bought last month from Top Shop, and now fears she will need to buy another raft of clothes for her last month (any excuse, Mummy!), but as it's not worth splashing out, she might have to drop her eco-planet-friendly principles and buy some stuff from Primark. She says she's not even sure they do maternity wear so she might have to just buy "fat chick clothes" which won't fit her properly everywhere else.
Aside from that, since the last time I blogged, Mummy and Daddy have been going to ante-natal classes. Mummy wants to know as much as possible (swot!), so she signed them up to the NHS classes at the hostipal AND the posher NCT (National Childbirth Trust) classes.
Daddy only managed to make one of the NHS classes because of work, and then he got all uneasy when they started talking about epidurals (a big needle in mummy's spine, with medicine pumped in, so she can't feel a thing). Mummy hissed that it wasn't happening to *him*, it was going to get a whole lot more queasy-making, and she thought he might be *useless* in the delivery room (he admitted he might faint), so she was thankful she had Grandma B there too. I hope he *IS* awake to greet me though!
She was gutted that he hadn't made the previous week's class and she had to endure "THE VIDEOS" on her own (or more accurately, with a load of other pregnant women - some with partners - all staring at their feet, if they could see them, in silent horror). These films showed earth-mother types giving birth, one on all fours, and one in a birthing pool, although Mummy noted neither of them were first-timers at this, as first births would probably be even more traumatic.
Mummy reckons if they showed these to 14 year old girls at school we could reduce teenage pregnancies like *that*. There certainly seemed to be a lot of grown-ups in the room who seemed to be having second thoughts...
The thing that traumatised her more than anything though? She leaned over and whispered to Rikki, a girl she'd bonded with in class, "If you knew you were being filmed, you'd get a wax, right?!" Rikki giggled, but carried on staring at her belly, and not the TV.
Daddy has been able to make the other posher NCT classes though, at a nice lady called Marta's house - there's always lots of cake, which must have something to do with his enhanced enjoyment levels. There are five couples including them in their group, and so far they've met twice and they all seem nice. There they learn all about us babies with lots of fun games - no gory videos. The only thing that worries Mummy slightly is that gradually, different forms of pain relief are starting to appeal less, so she thinks perhaps she is being subtly brainwashed...?
They've also been watching a not-intentionally-hilarious TV documentary series at home, called "One Born Every Minute", the title of which seems to be referring to the largely useless partners of women about to give birth in a maternity ward. Daddy is using it, rather wisely I think, as a guide on how NOT to behave when Mummy is in labour.
What else? At the end of January, the pareys had their last romantic break *ever* to Paris for a long weekend and ate at swanky places they won't be able to go to once I'm here...
Daddy also took Mummy to London Fashion Week to see new designer Holly Fulton's show. Everyone was so kind to Mummy, giving her chairs and treating her like a VIP. She reckons it was because all the fashionistas loved being near someone with such a big belly, so they'd look even skinnier by comparison. Funny mummy!!!
Next day, in delightful contrast, they went to The Baby Show, and spent more than Mummy's ever spent on a dress, on a Stokke travel system for me, chose a baby crib and played with a dazzling array of breast pumps. Who knew?
We've already got the car seat, and a new VW Golf with 5 doors! Daddy does miss his Mercedes Sports Coupé, but 2 doors are rubbish with a baby, he knows it had to go. They are still trying to work out why the car came with a free VW beer bottle opener though.
Surely that's like my Stokke coming with a set of baby carving knives?
Mummy has also been for a couple of doctor's appointments at weeks 32 and 34. Doc says I'm growing well, but I'm still not turning upside down. She said "We have a difficult one here!", and Mummy sighed and said, "That'll be about right...!"
At this rate, I will be a 'breech' baby (sat upright) and if I stay that way they'll have to get me "out the sunroof" (as Mummy calls it - sounds less scary than a Caesarean or C-section). She's also worried that will happen anyway as I'm getting so big. She asked the doc if I had much more growing to do and she said "Yeeees...but you're doing really well and haven't got any stretch marks!" "Yet" said Mummy, glumly.
I *am* trying to turn, Mummy! She says her tummy feels like it's on spin dry all the time, especially when she's in bed, and even Daddy is quite amazed at all the activity going on. It's quite tiring for her (good practice for when I'm borned, she's telling herself). But for all the kicking and punching and tickling, I've obviously got a terrible sense of direction - well it's DARK in here!
She's been having weird, vivid dreams too. She dreamt I pushed my face right up against her skin and she could see my face clearly in the middle of her belly, looking out in relief. I looked just like Daddy, with his cheeky smile and a worryingly big head. And when she turned to the light to show him, they could see I had BLUE eyes! THROUGH HER BELLY! Another dream and she could see my arm and hand and she held my tiny hand in hers. And in another, her friend PK had told her that her baby had already 'engaged' (gone upside down to be borned) and Mummy was annoyed with me that I hadn't!
Mummy knows she needs to relax, so she's going to the Dorchester for a 'Nurturing Cocoon' wrap (a Christmas present from Daddy) and a facial this weekend, and organising her Mummy Shower. 16 girls coming round and none of them to see *me*! But she deserves some treats - it's getting v tiring carrying me about (as Daddy found out when he had an equivalent weight strapped to him at the NCT classes. He has renewed respect for her carting me round all day.)
Well, that's quite a lot for now - see you in about 5 weeks, baby-fingers crossed!
