Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 40+1 day
Month: 10
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks
Time to Go: TODAY. Not tomorrow, TODAY.
Size: Bigger than me. Figure that out.
Time til potential induction: 2 days. Meh.

Sooooo....it turns out you REALLY can't predict these things, huh?

Yes here I am, at 40 weeks and still pregnant. I'm now on my 2nd due date (the one that THEY use, even though they're only a day apart). As far as I know, there is NO sign of this one coming any time soon. Sure, I've had ridiculous amounts of BH, I'm all pooped out I think for the first time (in a long time) I can say I'm all empty, I'm restless as hell and pretty much no longer have an appetite.

Most days are spent pacing up and down like some crazy restless woman, trying really hard not to feel sick all the time. I often feel like I'm about to lose my marbles and I've ONLY JUST hit due dates. SHEEESH.

So what happens now? Well AMW is coming this afternoon, where she might actually ask me why I haven't had the baby yet (albeit jokingly...I hope...) and then ask how I feel about Friday's induction.

How do I feel about Friday's induction?

I danno. I don't want an induction and will probably decline. They'll probably want to do a sweep *shudder* because I know they're shitting themselves even more than me about the size of this baby. But my reason for declining is logical from my point of view; if my body isn't yet ready to push out a colossal baby and they started it anyway, would that not lead to more trouble? Do we not see a C-Section on the horizon?

Sure I'm uncomfortable, and appear to have developed Pregnancy Tourettes (randomly screaming "GET OUT" and "NOW, BITCH", accompanied by the odd "DAMN YOU, CROTCH"), and SPD has reached hilarious new heights (current record - 15 minutes to maneuver myself out of bed), and, you know, I have no sanity left, but I have to remember to be very realistic about what my body is about to go through.

Even at this stage I see no point in downing pineapples/curries or even pineapple curries (lmao people, ya'll funny), or indulging in some seriously uncomfortable sex (er yes hi, have you people SEEN me?), and even bouncing on the ball doesn't seem to do much. T.O.O. is (apparently) 2/5 engaged and very rarely lies on my left (like it's supposed to).

Ahw crap, and I thought Noah was defiant, this one is going to be a right little shit, for sure.

Sadly though, I'm prepared for the worst. I'm expecting to go into labour sometime next week, and end up having a section. Just cos, you know, The Law of Sod. which is a real shame. But we'll see.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 37+3 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 36 weeks
Time to Go: 19 days
Size: Smaller than your mother.


You all knew it was coming. You all said "at the end of the day, blah blah blah, healthy mom healthy baby, yaddah yaddah". You all sat there thinking how nuts I must be trying to deliver another big baby at home. I'll even bet some of you wondered what point I was trying to make, or what was I trying to prove.

Maybe I'm just very paranoid (which is very true).

But as of today, I have given up. Scan yesterday, showed baby measuring about 9lbs in weight, with potential to gain a pound a week, but could go 20% either way. Fluid levels down from 11 point something to 9.4cm, so they're dropping and things starting to look good.

So whaddup?

They're all too scared. They actually threw a million scare stories at me during today's appointment. Mr Consultant actually said if I decided to stay at home, then he would pretty much not be involved in the delivery, and would not advocate me staying at home. Yes a MW would be in attendance if I called in, they would have to be, they have no choice (by law). But "if something were to go wrong, I would take full responsibility and no body else could be to blame".

"But of course, Mrs M, the decision at the end of the day is yours!"

I had no point to prove. I had no point to make. I just wanted to deliver my baby in an environment that I knew I would be happy in, that I would be comfortable with. Without fear of what would the medical profession would try to do if they got too close.

I am SO fully aware of all the dangers. I am also fully aware of the dangers that could happen with ANY. OTHER. BIRTH. He even said himself that shoulder dystocia can happen in a birth with a "normal" size baby. But once again, they're just pointing out as many of the factors as possible, including the fact that my fluid levels are still too high. So what would be REALLY great is if people can just be in agreement with what the hell is normal and what isn't. I can't cope being told one week that 11cm is acceptable and shouldn't be concerned until we got to 24cm. And then the following week, well actually 9.4cm is still too high, and even though the level has dropped, that's still not good enough.

So you know what? They win. This is a fight I can't keep up anymore. I'm frustrated, I'm tired. If I go into labour I'll go in to hospital. I don't want to, but after all they've freaked me out with, how the hell am I supposed to happily and comfortably give birth at home?? Christ, today when I went for my appointment, ALL the staff knew who I was and why I was there. Now I'm thinking that can't always be a good thing.

So I give up. I'm gutted. Actually, I'm more pissed off than I am upset. Pissed off because I didn't want it to be this way. I didn't want this birth to be so tainted. Maybe I should have just given up the fight earlier, but how can I do that when I'm told so many different things every time I walk in there?

They want to do another liqor scan at 39wks, do an internal and if nothing's happening, they want to induce. Pah. I think they may have to catch me first. I can only thank god that he refuses to do C/S, and has no intention of inducing unless absolutely necessary. I can't even begin to say how grateful I am for that. But that comes on the back of no home birth, and I can't even have a water birth in hospital because of the fluid crap thing. I'm starting to feel like everything is being taken away ("the decision is yours Mrs M...") and that quite simply, I'm just not going to enjoy this birth at all. I know I can't have everything. But even the few things I wanted have now gone.

I'm really fucked off. Like, they can't even give me straight answers, they can't prove anything, they don't know anything for sure and they've made me feel like crap in the process.

So that's that. I pretty much hope I go into labour before 39 weeks because I cannot, just CAN NOT face induction. And yes I KNOW that people have been induced and it's gone great. Good for you. But that's not what I want. I also understand that babies need to cook for as long as necessary. I can assure you I know that too. Remember my own mother is a Midwife. So is D's mother. But understand that I do not want medical intervention.

I don't like the way this has turned out. But I know at this point now, there's not a fat lot I can do. That's fair enough. I understand I need to go in. I understand I pretty much have no choice. My hands feel like they've been tied somehow...but you know what? I'll deliver this baby, and I don't care what anyone says, it's going to have to take one SERIOUS frigging situation before they have to intervene. There will be no C/S. There will be no medical intervention.

Any intervention will be my own doing. And it'll probably be in the form of large quantities of pineapples and fair amount of power walking. Possibly with the odd curry thrown in. Now if you'll excuse me, these Braxton Hicks are driving me batshit and I have a Poopgate appointment with the bathroom.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 16+0 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 14 weeks
Heartbeat: 147 bpm
Time to Go: 166 days
Size: Avocado. You know I have a naval orange and an avocado right here, and the avocado is actually bigger.

Still not gonna eat it though.

Noah is ill. Again. He has a cold, and we're all suffering for it. It's kinda odd, because he's such a good kid and rarely makes a fuss if he's ill. Yesterday he crawled up on to my lap several times and just lay there watching tv (and every time, a limb would fall asleep because I was so uncomfortable, but do you think I was gonna be stupid enough to move when my grossly independent child wants a cuddle? Hell to the mother puppy no.) in between shouting at his toys and refusing food. Today he spent the day dancing to Bunnytown, still refusing food (apart from breadsticks and rice cakes) and rugby tackling me.

If it wasn't for the food thing, oh and him constantly sticking out his tongue trying lick the delightful ever-flowing trail of snot from his nose, I'd never know he was ill. Somehow, with 4 teeth also cracking through at the top, he's still so aweome.



D and I are suffering mostly in that we feel sad for him obviously, but also last night was pretty rough as he woke up a few times. Obviously we're (secretly) smug that he's been sleeping through (like, 10 - 12 hours) since about 2 months, so that came as a shock to the system. I hate when he cries while he has a cold as it's the saddest most whimpering cry you've ever heard, but you know there's nothing you can do for him. If he'd let me I'd just pick him up and smother him with kisses and cuddles.

My latest game is "Guess What Causes Migraines?" and it's just the Best. Game. Ever. Current candidates include Chinese food, mobile phones, work and lack of sleep (I promise I will explain that small issue of work soon, just, not yet). I never had so much fun...at this stage I'm immensely thankful that the sciatica and SPD are reasonably under control. Also thankful I've not had a migraine re-occurance as bad as the last biggie, but it bothers me that there's always a niggling migraine, every single day...

I also seem to have (FINALLY) discovered my "renewed 2nd trimester energy" (which has been a freaking long time coming) but has proved to be great playing with Noah. His "rugby tackling" is so hilarious, along with the insane grin, full charge, raised arms and growling that goes with it! Man he cracks me up.

You're probably wondering about the new car...or you're probably not but I have no feasible segue that I can think of right now, but there's a hold up - not picking it up until Friday! And all because I wanted an iPod adaptor fitted (surely those things come as standard in so many cars?) so I'm still driving the Little Orange Thing at the mo...and oddly enough I'm more gutted than I thought I would be, but hey, ya know, something for the, uh weekend...

Something to make you chuckle? I'm 16 weeks along, more flab than bump, and I'm having Braxton Hicks contractions. Can you believe I forgot all about those momentary spasms of joy?

Week: 39+5 days
Month: 10 (Seriously...what?)
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks (I signed it up for Uni. Cambridge.)
Fetal Heartbeat: Yes indeedy.
Size: Long enough
Time to go: 27 hours (WTF??!)
Full Term: I stopped counting

Yeh yeh ok so I got a bit tetchy in one of my posts, but hey can you blame me??! D's mother has taken to calling EVERY DAY (sometimes several times) to check on progress. Well. I'm still pregnant. And for the frickin MILLIONTH time, WE WILL CALL if something happens.

Though at this rate we may just neglect to call until it's at pre-school, like we kinda forgot to mention.

I'm totally appreciative of people checking to see if there's 'any news'; it's lovely that people care and stuff, but come on, did it occur to you if you're constantly sending messages, then so is someone else...?

I must admit, the messages that I really appreciate are the 'thinking of you etc etc', or the 'hope you're ok, shout if I can help blah blah'...I guess I shouldn't be so ungrateful (or some shit like that) but maaaaaaan it can get old I guess, especially when I'm already tired and starting to get really impatient.

Went for accupressure today; it was different, but felt really good. Mocha kicked up a storm every time she squeezed my big toe on my right foot. It was kinda entertaining. She said she worked on constipation points and labour induction points. Needless to say, the induction points aren't guaranteed, but hey, I'll take what I can get. Gotta admit, I feel more barfy, my back is screwing and the BH are pretty strong. Can't be bothered to time them yet though.

My latest plan is to go into labour by Saturday. Cos you know, Mocha and I have this agreement whereby it does what I say.

HAHAHHHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAAAHAHAA!!!

I'm still on the raspberry leaf tea (YES I know, it doesn't actually induce labour) and drinking like a fish. I have evening primrose oil but don't have the balls to take any. Every time I think about it I chicken out and google until I find enough info that says Don't Do It!! Lengthy Labour! Induction! C-section!

You'd think I'd just bin the stuff.

Oh, and er, happy new year and stuff.

Week: 38+2 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 36 weeks
Fetal Heartbeat: Er, yes
Size: Lengthy
Time to go: 11 days
Full Term: 9 days ago
Days til xmas: 3 days (shit)

And I don't mean Spot the Dog. So, the only other alternative would be me. Spotting. And lots of it. D and I went to Sainsburys this morning (at 8am no less. "manic laughter") and finished the Christmas food shopping. As usual, Mocha decided that if I'm walking, it's gonna try walking too (on my ribs). Not a problem quite used to that now. Even impressed myself on the speed in which we got round the shop (done within the hour).*

Got back, went to the loo, spotting. Right there. Hoorah! And Oh shit, I said. D had a look! Hoorah! And Oh shit, what do we do now? He said. Isn't it funny that for all my arrogant research, everything flies out my head when the shit starts to hit the fan. I called mum, let her know what's going on, and left it at that. What else can I do? Go and finish wrapping D's presents (thank you SOOOO much Anthony and Darren, your timing is impeccable). So I did, went to the loo again 2 hours later.

More spotting.

I'm not panicking about the immenent birth of the child, I'm panicking in case something's going wrong and the buggers try to send me to hospital. Mocha is still moving absolutely fine, my back has a dull ache to it and the BH are still going strong. I feel fine. Tired of course, mild cramping, back ache, swollen feet and dry skin**, but otherwise fine. Heh.

I'm thinking I'd like to NOT be pushing on Xmas day. Yes I know, I have no choice in the matter blah blah blah, but an Xmas day baby? Please, come on. Poor child. I'd have it's birthday changed by default (is that even allowed?)

The house is actually ready now. Mocha's room all complete (including the outrageously cute clothes bought for it by Uncle K from Baby Gap - good lord I almost dribbled on them) - two coats (winter and summer), Converse All Star Hi-Tops and a bodysuit (in blue). This child is gonna be so spoilt. But that's ok.

The lounge is all moved around and MW#2 has left her bag of fun tricks ready for delivery. I was gutted to discover there was no gas and air in there! That could've been fun, hehe!

Had a few major cleaning outbursts over the last week, promptly followed by passing out on the sofa. Hey, don't judge me. I sleep easier in the day. And at least I'm cleaning! You'd normally have to put a bomb under me to get me to do that stuff...

Here's a question: Can a cat tell when you might be going into labour soon?

I have to say, I never thought about how much this spotting would bother me, mainly I think because I haven't 'spotted' onto a pad since the miscarriage in Feb. So I guess that's the only association I have with it... and I guess it's a bit of a freak out.

Anyhoo.

Guess I'll be on the loo every two hours (cos you know, there's something new...)

* If you're ever shopping and the place is full of stupid whores, put random items in their trollies, or even just walk off with their trolley when they're not looking. Omg so funny.

** No stretch marks yet bitches, Haaaaaaaa!!!! ***

*** I'll regret I said that.

Week: 36+0 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 34 weeks
Fetal Heartbeat: Ummm...
Size: Long
Time to go: 27 days
Full Term: 6 days

HAH I had record Braxton Hicks the other night. I managed every 10 minutes for about an hour and a half. Amazingly I sat calm only because they didn't hurt. Mocha fidgeted as usual. D freaked out when he realised what I was timing on my phone. Needless to say, they amounted to nothing which was of course fine with me; I have absolutely no intention of this baby coming out before next week Thursday. Anytime after then is fine, but after Saturday 15th might be even better because at least then MW#2 will have dropped off her box of goodies.

Internet: Ahw look at you, talking like you know exactly when your baby is gonna come. Stupid naieve whore...

Me: *holds up three fingers* Pick one.

I know I can't predict, it's the dumbest thing to try and predict. I know that. But there's no way on this planet I'm having it before next Thursday. Because then it'll premature, and we're not going down that road...

D has landed a job working from home 3 days a week - I'm so over the moon for him. Especially as he's significantly struggling to even leave the house before Mocha's born...! But anyway, I think he starts it next week and hopefully, he'll be able to actually do the work...we'll see...

Mocha has a new trick, it's hilarious. (Detect very dry sarcasm.) A little bottom and foot sticks out the front of my belly whilst simultaneously a foot sticks out my side, narrowly missing rib cage. 30 seconds later, they'll disappear. Then reappear. Then disappear. You get the gist.

People keep asking if the movements have slowed down/reduced yet. Um, hell no. It probably doesn't help drinking gallons of fruit juice (Shuttup, I need the vitamin C...). And I'm wondering if Mocha is gonna be one of those babies that just never sleeps. If that's the case then I honestly don't mind, but if it's accompanied with endless crying, I shall be thoroughly pissed.

I cannot be held responsible for the sudden murder of my noisey neighbours.

Here's something interesting (or perhaps utterly boring) - I have a new phone. It's a Samsung G600 and while I've been a Sony Ericsson lover since the T610 (5 years ago???) it was a hell of a step to switch. The fun part came this morning when I tried to do my weekly belly pic, and suddenly realised I didn't know how to hold the phone, taking a picture of my hand instead. Dear god. But still, it does the job, and I can go back to the K800i should I become utterly desperate.

I've been wondering why my left boob has been so itchy since I put my clothes on this morning. I finally just shoved my hand in the bra wondering if I'd dropped food crumbs in there - and found a £10 note I'd shoved in there. I'd taken it out my jeans this morning to go in the wash but didn't have my purse to hand. Jesus Christ on a cracker in a blanket.

It's the Hollywood All Stars Xmas Bash this weekend, an evening full of...um, crap. A pathetic comedian, a very dull band that plays nothing but horrific covers, and a small plate of questionable cold finger buffet food.

D and I will also be having an Xmas Bash this weekend, only we're using the money for our tickets to go shopping for our own FABULOUS buffet food, and plan on doing nothing but stupid stuff all day. Including watching stupid films, making crazy cocktails (non alcoholic of course for me) and playing mad games.

Oh, and of course playing music as loudly as possible (including all questionable tracks from my Christmas list, such as Who Put the Stump, Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire, Walking Round in Women's Underwear and anything by John Denver and the Muppets.


MUMS Just in case you wanted to know.