I can't believe I forgot to post these, but I just wanted to showcase some more of the fantastic work from Darren, Anthony and co at Your Big Day.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 36+3 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 35 weeks
Time to Go: 25 days. Heh.
Size: Big enough to make regular people crap themselves.
Time til ANOTHER Growth Scan: 6 days

Ok, so I understand there are a few questions and situations that remain unanswered. And so, here are the results.

House viewings: Not interested at this stage. I didn't understand when the feedback was that the property was just too small. Which begs the question, why, having read the details on the web/brochure, did you come and view it, and also go round commenting on how huge the rooms were? Or...maybe you're a member of the Dumbass League? Awesome.

Noah: He doesn't have an ear infection (even though he's constantly rubbing his ears and wincing), and therefore one of the few explanations for his fantastic behaviour lately is indeed puberty. Or the fact that he somehow knows something is really up in this house (like the colossal fact that he's about to have a brother or sister).

And on that note, we've decided it's a boy. Not because of any scans. Not because of gut feeling. Not even because we straight out asked the Doc to tell us. Nope, it's because tonight, in the bath, Noah took it upon himself to say "brother". Always on cue, whenever prompted. Do you think he would say "sister"? Helllll nope. Wouldn't even make a sound. But every time, "brother" came out, crystal clear. Hell, I can't even get the kid to say mama or dada, and the closest we get to any word at the mo is "oof oof" (which of course, is a dog barking. Plenty in terms of sign language though, so we're sill happy).

TV Fantasies: I do have a thing for Nigel Barker and Gordon Ramsay. I have no idea why.*

SPD: Crutches suck. They do not work. I still waddle around most places, though I seem to have had a little respite lately. The fun comes when I roll over in bed and there's an almighty "cracking" sound that comes from my crotch. Somewhat surreal, I think. Usually followed by me falling to the floor and wondering if I'll make it to the bathroom without making a mess. SO cool.

T.O.O.: (cos I know you're all eagerly awaiting the news, on the edge of your seats, right? Right? Thought so.) Well you know all that stress and crap and god knows what else that I went through last week? Yeah...it would appear we needn't have worried. Yes! Actual! Good! News! T.O.O. is currently cephalic, and had been that way for a good 24 hours (including when AMW palpated yesterday and by the way did I mention she's awesome?), fluid levels and the whole polyhydramnios thing is actually FINE and we are NOT in a danger zone, and whilst they still think it's big (of course), there are no major concerns, and some of the MWs don't think it's even as big as Noah. As of this moment, right now, I am actually physically exhausted with sheer relief. 

So what does this mean? Well I have one more appt with a consultant next Friday (which was OUR choice, they actually said we didn't have to if we didn't want to) and a final growth scan on Thursday, though the Consultant has said he won't be overly bothered by the results unless they show something drastic. Sooooo...

DEFINITELY no C/S as long as it stays cephalic. No induction unless I get to 54 weeks or I go batshit, whichever happens first (feel free to place a bet). And once I've met with the Consultant on Friday, we may, note, MAY be able to discuss the possibility of trying again for a home birth.

I'm too scared to even consider the very idea at the moment, things seem to be going frighteningly well.

* I realise this was never actually a raised issue, but sometimes it's good to get things off your chest...right? **
** I also quite like Alan Shore in Boston Legal, but I can't confess to too much in one go, it'll just blow your minds.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 36+2 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3. I wonder if they'll invent a 4th.
Fetus Age: 34 weeks
Time to Go: 26 days, if it gets it's way.
Size: Apparently, abnormally giant-size, maybe like a sasquatch.
Time til NEXT Growth Scan: 1 day

Yes, I've been avoiding blogging, and it's purely for selfish reasons. The whole C/S thing. It bothers me. And I'm allowed to be bothered. So I guess you could say I've been sulking. That's fine. I admit that, I can deal with that. Besides, I'm maxed out on hormones, I'm a girl, I feel shit, so yeah. I'm allowed to sulk.

Sunday night, I got T.O.O. to turn cephalic. Awesome! Just by lying on my back, kind very reclined, making myself feel sick but you know, you do these things. Right? And so yeah! It's been head down ALL WEEK!! Hell to the yeah!! All set for midwife appointment today - BRING ON THE TRUMPETS!


Lat night, while I felt like crap eating dinner, I realised that it had suddenly flipped breech again. So I went to bed feeling shit beyond belief, lying awkward to turn it back. It worked. AWESOME! Breech again this morning.

My patience may not have been tested as much as this before. I am going batshit. I may have flipped it again this morning (if this thing isn't violently sick in my womb it'll be a miracle), but I'm almost too tired to fight much more. Yes I know they can keep flipping until labour starts, I'm fully aware, but what I really don't want is the "C" word being bandied around at my appointments. Right there is far more stress than I can deal with.

And to add to the joys of the end of pregnancy and all it's lovely quirks, Noah. Ahhhhhh Noah.

While I wasn't looking, someone appears to have taken my lovely crazy kiddo, and swapped him for some one who could only be associated with the spawn of Satan.

Daily tantrums. Throwing whatever is in reach. Doing his best to ignore whoever is trying to speak to him. Cutting his nap time gradually shorter (his ONE and ONLY nap). Hitting in the face (anyone within reach). Now, I don't know at what point I seem to have eliminated all discipline and let him run wild rampage on anyone and anything. But seriously. Who is this kid? He's not mine. Ok yeah, he comes to me for cuddles in the afternoon. And that's the time when I get a glimmer of my Kiddo.

D and I had speculated waaayyyy back how the hell we were going to deal with this, because we kind of saw it coming. Noah being so big and strong willed, strong in physicality and in mind, and frustrated quickly and easily. Unfortunately, we didn't see it coming at only 14/15 months.

Sideswiped? Oh yes.

I would love to see the SuperNanny deal with this. Our Nanny is having a ball.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 35+3 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 34 weeks
Time to Go: 32 days, though at this rate, who the hell knows?
Size: King/Queen
Time til NEXT Growth Scan: 7 days

Soooo....after all of that, it seems I've got other things to worry about. Thank you so much to all those who replied, and especially those who gave me a cyber kick up the arse. On reflection, yes I know it's hormones, and I'm stupidly tired and ha ha! Of course Noah doesn't hate me! (Not yet, anyway, give it about 14 years maybe) And this blog tends to receive the brunt of my whining (ya'll some very strong/supportive/intriguing people to carry on reading...that means a whole lot). But there are just some days, which we all have, when I just feel completely incompetent. And whilst it sucks, I think I just need to find some way to embrace that.

Unfortunately, what I really need to embrace right now is the fact that Pushing the Button is pretty much officially out the window. Today's scan (for all its inaccuracies) showed that T.O.O. is measuring, um, "ahead" a  little bit. Like, kinda measuring around the 43+3w mark.

I'll just give you a second to scroll back up and remind yourself how far along I actually am.


Yeah, not looking good, huh? The weight can go 15% either way of their measurements. Unfortunately, the measurements were so off the frigging chart, they couldn't actually give me a guess on the weight. Awesome.

So whilst you're thinking, "yeah well, she delivered one adult, why can't she do it again? Why's she given up so easily?"

Well there's more. Remember that whole polyhydramnios thing? And the whole "excess fluid but don't worry, it looks ok at this stage"? Yeah that's gone to shit too. The fluid has increased, which means that if I go into labour and T.O.O. isn't engaged, I risk things like a cord prolapse, or a hand or foot presenting first (which really, really does not appeal). Needless to say, a cord prolapse is life threatening for T.O.O. and I always said that if there was ANYTHING that would endanger the lives of myself or the baby, then I wouldn't do it at home. Of course, there's the potential for me to still put up some kind of fight at this point, even though it would minimal.

But no.

I officially gave up when they said that it's also breech. Just. Frigging. Awesome.

Now of course I know FULL WELL that even at 35w with a second baby, it could turn a million more times before I hit due date. Fully aware. In fact, as I type this now, I'm actually typing leaning over the table, resting on my knees and elbows (if you can picture that). And as I'm typing, I'm being pummeled in the crotch as it tries to somehow propel itself up and round.

The things we do eh?

I've had a bad feeling all along about Pushing the Button, and something said to me that the outcome just wouldn't be good at all. Which is a real shame. We went along to the scan just excited to see T.O.O. again. And I came out in tears, feeling thoroughly pissed off at the outcome. The consultant we saw was great, very clear and understanding. But there was no arguing. With all of the above, the three together, just cause too great a risk.

So where do we go from here?

We have another scan next friday to measure fluid and try to get another "guess" on the size. I also have a scan the following week after that to check position. They mentioned that if it is still breech, they would normally try to turn the baby (ECV - External Cephalic Version), giving me a better chance of having a vaginal birth (in hospital). Of course, that would be the case if the fluid levels were normal. So if the levels are high, then no turning and it's an automatic C-Section for me. At this stage, who knows? It could be anything from let's wait and see, through early induction, to planned C-Section.


I have nothing against people who have had C-Sections. I know some people wouldn't have it any other way. Me? Not so keen. My previous experience with hospitals has sufficiently put paid to that. So C-Sections...yeah, I think that's a different post.
I am just not cut out for this. I was never made to be a mother, I am not mother material, I can barely cope with one kid, I do NOT see how the hell I an cope with two. I have all the help I can possibly get and yet O still feel like a fucking failure. Noah has ben fine with his grandparents all day, he comes home and is fine, and the second I sit him down to eat, he screams and throws things at me. Can someone please tell me what I did to deserve that?

He's barely eaten all day, he's had practically no dinner (apart from a handful of crisps - oh what a great mother am I) and if he plays up at diner and doesn't eat, he gets no dessert. Which obviously makes me look like the evil mom (I just can't afford to have him grow up on crap alone)

And now I'm fucking crying, for fucks sake. Can someone please tell me how the hell I'm supposed to turn myself around and suddenly just "adapt" to this whole thing that I blatantly cannot do? I can't deal with this. I think about going to sleep and not waking up for months, and just letting everyone else deal with all the shit instead of me. I sometimes think it would just do everyone a too; no one would have to listen to me whine, Noah wouldn't hate me, everyone could just get on and life would be so much easier for all without me and my over-complicated, over-anal, overly-thought-out ways of dealing with everything.

As I sat there with Noah screaming directly into my face, having just hurled yet another plate/bowl/spoon at me, I wondered how much does he hate me. And it sucks to sit there wondering if your kid who is no where NEAR being a teenager absolutely hates favour you, and how the hell did things just escalate so badly anyway?

I hate feeling like a failure, and it terrifies me so much that I'm going to have to feel all of this again with another kid. Why would I put anyone through this? Why should I make another kid suffer already? I always wondered about moms who gave up their kids, and it pains me to say it but sometimes I can see why. I feel like I'm raising some kind of monster who just finds it easier not to be around his neurotic mother.

Lately all I seem to do is shout at him, Noah no touch, Noah no throw, Noah come away, Noah dangerous - no wonder the kid hates me. He probably thinks all fun and games must stop every time he sees me.

It's great that we have Nanny to help us out, but I'm now terrified that it's going to get to the point where he'd rather spend all his time with her. I'm also betting that most of you already saw this coming. I can see it now; D brings Noah downstairs, sees me and Nanny, screams at me and then clings to her. She's so great with him; she gets to do all the things I so desperately want to do, without the added hassle of having to be the ultimate disciplinarian and being the one that always come down on him like a ton of bricks if he's naughty.

And what the hell happens when T.O.O. comes along in 5 weeks time? When Noah spends more time with Nanny, and he realises that actually, life is great when his mum isn't around and he can just do whatever?

I wonder if this is post natal depression. I wonder if this is pregnancy hormones. I also wonder if this is exhaustion in its finest form. I think potentially all of the above, which then leads me to wonder how the hell am I supposed to be a good mother? I have only had Noah for 2 hours today, and already I'm not sure I want to be around him any more today. I can't cope with him. I can't deal with him. I admit defeat - he's too much for me. I'm too weak to deal with him, that's all there is to it.

The honest truth. I'm so not made to be a mom. And that pisses me off severely, because being a failure really stinks.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 34+2 days
Month: 9 It concerns me this figure will change to say "10" at some point.
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 32 weeks
Time to Go: 40 days fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...
Size: long enough to get stuck trying to go from breech to cephalic (head down). Ouch. Awesome.
Time til Growth Scan: 8 days

New midwife (let's call her AMW cos she's pretty awesome). Met today, and yep, she's pretty damn cool. Advised of how They might try to sway me from home birth at scan next week, wrote down all my concerns in my notes, and gave me a case to argue.

Measured baby, says she can't see why there should be any problems.

And then...well...

Well, then she booked my next appointment with her for 36 weeks and said she'd be bringing all the home birth stuff. I was all..

Me: Isn't that a bit early? Cos you know, can't have home birth til like, 38 weeks..

AMW: Nope it's 37 weeks. Not long now!!

Me: Uh...

Yup. 37 weeks is in 3 weeks time people. And apart from inflating the pool to see if it has holes in it, do you think we've done anything? ANYTHING?

Well, we have a changing table (not set up), some large newborn clothes, and uh, ummm...
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 33+6 days
Month: 8
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 32 weeks
Time to Go: 43 days
Size: Anywhere between an embryo and, uh, the TV.
Time til Growth Scan: 11 days

I am a truck. Well, no not really a truck, more like a small house. Only, somehow, I'm still not as big as I was at this stage with Noah. Somehow, I'm lighter and still in original sized clothes (below the bump, before one of you leaves a cocky comment heheh).

And yet, here I am, sat in the most flattering maternity nightshirt you ever did see, and by flattering, I mean really NOT flattering. To make it even more lovely, it's bright pink so I look like a giant candy floss, all mis-shapen and, sort of lumpy.

And even more lovely, is the humongous belly button that announces itself to the world like some odd kind of pointy beacon. "Hello!! Preggo belly RIGHT! HERE!! Feel free to have a poke!"

And as for the poking, I don't mind people looking at the bump. Or smiling at the bump. Or being all conversational and maybe asking how long I have left. What infuriates me is the "foot in mouth" comments, and also the assumption that my stomach, (which, by the way, is faaarrrr too close to my boobs) is open property for one and all to touch. It's very unsettling when people who I have never met and will probably (most likely) never see again, in the middle of conversation, feel the need to lunge at the bump, touch it, stroke it, rub it enthusiastically (and let's just remember how close it is to my boobs again, like really close).

Um people? You know I'm attached to this thing, right? You um, do know that's my belly you're groping there, and for the love of god stop making my boobs jiggle, it's creepy.

Family don't touch it (cos maybe that's just weird). Some friends touch it (which I can deal with, especially if they've already been pregnant). And then random people I have never EVER met are all over it. Which freaks me the fuck out. But you know, whatever. I'm thinking of practicing the same thing in return, kinda like return the favour, you know?

The comments are hilarious. You know, make me wanna slap my thigh, keel over laughing, someone hand me the needle and thread cos I'm IN STITCHES hah fucking HARDY HAR HAR you're so funny comments.

"Are you sure there's just one??!"

"You must be due any day now, right?"

"Do twins/multiples run in your family?"

"Oh my GOD you are HUGE!!"

"Move your fat ass, it's blocking the way/view/sunlight."*

I think there appears to be some law I don't know about that gives people the right to say what the hell they like to pregnant women. Thanks! That's great.

It's big, but I didn't think it was that bad. I would, however, like to point out the fact that my bright pink pants underneath appear to be FAR larger than bump. However, please do not take this as an invitation to play with those instead.

*ok no one really said that, but I'll bet someone thought it.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 33+4 days, so I should consider getting baby stuff ready I guess.
Month: 8
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 32 weeks
Time to Go: 45 days
Size: I reserve comment.
Time til Growth Scan: 13 days

TWO HOUSE VIEWINGS THIS WEEKEND!!! Needless to say we've been running around like headless chickens trying to tidy everything up (that's been, uh, fun..) and SuperNanny blitzed downstairs which was pretty impressive. One viewing out the way today, one more tomorrow, PLEASE GOD let the lovely people get into a bidding war over our house and make an obscenely high offer.

Noah's face is looking a little better:

We're thrilled to bits that his bruise spread down between his eye and nose, and is currently an interesting shade of greeny-yellow. Teamed with F.O.F., he looks a treat, yes?!

T.O.O. is on fine form, rib kicks enough to not only wake me up, but also prompt me to go pee, feel sick and then not get any more sleep for the rest of the night until Noah wakes up at 6am threatening to lunge himself out the cot again. But these Braxton Hicks are starting to drive me loopy. I can't believe how strong and regular they are, but they're great fun when I'm out and about and one happens. I pull a face, clutch my crotch, and everyone around me shits themselves. I guess it's pretty funny to be honest.

I gotta get some fun out of this.

We're half hoping this one comes early, I think we're all a bit sick of this pregnancy unfortunately. At the same time, coming early would be so sooooo bad, given that we are so NOT prepared. I'm still trying to comprehend the very possibility of another Noah. Obviously I adore the Kiddo but dear God in heaven if D and I have another one like him, we are so very, very screwed. In the nicest possible way though, you know?
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 33+0 days (like, shit me, 7 weeks to go. And COUNTING.)
Month: 8
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 31 weeks
Time to Go: 49 days
Size: Who knows? Normal? Ant? Peanut? ...table?
Time til Growth Scan: 16 days

Noah clearly got wind of T.O.O. preparing to make it's escape, shoving it's head and hands on my bladder forcing me to do pelvic floors and reminding me to go pee. Great.

Noah got out his cot again this morning. He hit the floor, and when I walked in, he was just sat in front of the radiator behind the curtain, deciding which dummy to use. Ok, not so bad. It was 6:30am ish, so obviously I gave him his connoisseur assortment of dummies and put him back in. He fussed for a while, went quiet, and I made that mistake of assuming he'd gone to sleep.

Which clearly wasn't the case because at 7:40 ish there was an almighty sickening thud and then just pure screams; the kind where you wonder if they're going to take a breath in between yells.

I half ran, half hobbled in (do you know how much you ignore pain when your kiddo is screaming? It's an amazing thing, and I'm just starting to understand it), to find him wedged between the head of his cot and the wall, head firmly rammed against the radiator. He was completely stuck, and very upset.

It sounds harsh, but I made him stand up on his own (I needed to know he was ok because I simply didn't have the first clue what to check for) and he seemed ok. Unfortunately, as I scooped him up and tried my damned hardest not to cry with him, I noticed a fantastically huge bump on his head. Thankfully he was un-phased, but sweet Jesus it was a bump, and quickly starting to bruise. Thank God it didn't get any worse, and was much better by tonight. And to be fair, by this evening, he was running around like a crazy lunatic kiddo, quite possibly on speed. I'm hoping he didn't frazzle some circuits.

So...we now face the fun fact that we're going to have to teach a 14 month old to stay in his bed at night. Cos bwahahhahahah!! Yeah that's just gonna be hilarious. I don't see what else we can do; there isn't anything left in his cot that he can use as leverage, he clearly has methods, and is training to be some sort of escape artist assassin ninja kid.

Yeah I can see that conversation now.

Me: Now Noah, mummy and daddy have taken the side off your cot because you keep climbing out.

Noah: Uh.

D: So now you have to stay in your bed, and not climb out.


Me: And you must stay in your bed until the morning, and not stand at your doorway screaming like a banshee.

N: AHHHHH! 'oof 'oof...

Seriously. Cos it's gonna work so well. Loads of people suggested "crib covers" - we're yet to find one that Noah wouldn't/couldn't pull off in a heartbeat. We've taken the bumpers down so he can't use them to climb. D says he's walked in and found him with one leg cocked up the side of the cot, clearly preparing his escape. Much like he does in the bath.

He's still ultra cute though; he now does animal noises - meows like a cat, woofs like a dog, does a quacking gesture for duck, roars like a lion and moos like a cow. Plus he's addicted to his burpee when he's ready for cuddles; for a kid so crazy, rough-and-tumble insane, he is the cutest when he shoves his burpee against his ear and throws himself at you for cuddles. At least I'm padded enough to be reassured he won't sustain further injuries.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 32+6 days
Month: 8
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 31 weeks
Time to Go: 49 days
Size: NOT an adult. In my opinion.
Time til Growth Scan: 17 days

You are all wonderful, wonderful people. I want to thank you all so much for your caring love and support after my last post. I expected to get flamed to hell and told to get the hell over myself, but instead I was reminded by how awesome people can be. I'm so glad you're out there (wherever you are) and you'll never know how much your support means to me.

Thank you.

And also, the Nanny. Sweet god in heaven, the Nanny.

Can someone please tell me why we never did this months ago?

She's so helpful, it's untrue! It was so nice to finally not have to stress about every little thing going on in the house, and desperately trying to stay on top of everything (in that lovely endearing anal way that I do, ya know?). I know everyone says I should just rest, and let the housework go, etc, but if we did that I suspect we'd drown in crap.

More than anything, it's so nice to see Noah get to play around properly in the lounge, and get to go out for walks, and go out to the shops, and not spend the entire day suffering cabin fever with his mother.

Ok sods law he has a cold now, and FOF is in full flow (I managed to get snot in his ear trying to wipe his face, that was a treat), and he feels like shit, and he seems to like waking up at 5:30am and NOT going back to sleeeep, but I DON'T care - he's clearly a happier boy in the daytime, and so is great fun in the evenings when his Dad comes home.

I suppose I find it a little weird sometimes having someone else look after my kid almost all the time, and doing the things that I can't do (but so desperately want to). When they went out on Friday for the afternoon I had no idea what to do with myself and after an hour I REALLY missed him, but I know it's not fair to keep him locked up in the lounge the whole time. 

And I still get my cuddles. Although lately he obviously can't reach quite so well round my middle, so he either uses T.O.O. as a pillow or just hugs my head instead.

I'm having a bit of a sucky time with T.O.O; I'm a little paranoid it's going to be breech or something, I've never known a baby move around so much. I'm obviously glad that it's moving, and Christ does it throw a punch or kick every so often. Lately it feels like it may have started to drop, but somehow it's still able to spin around on it's head. Kinda like a breakdancing baby, if you will.

One thing I've noticed is that it's also more difficult to work out what position it's actually in; maybe because of the whole extra fluid thing, maybe cos it doesn't stay there long enough; I don't know. Both D and I don't have a great feeling about this one, and suspect I'll either be early or will end up in hospital for whatever reason.

Cos hospital is ALWAYS fun. Right?

ETA: I've just been reminded of the previous hospital episode. If I do go in, please send food. And sanity. Oh, and someone else's arms.