Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 40+2 days
Month: 10
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks
Time to Go: And already that's not even funny any more.
Size: Roughly the size of the bull in the field opposite my house
Time til potential induction: 1 day. Hm.

And still going strong. Though I did have a Super-Poop yesterday, followed by contractions that were definitely worth writing home about. I would have been more excited though, had they been getting closer together rather than the sporadic random timing with which they presented themselves. Love to keep me guessing eh?? Thanks!

And of course, visit from AMW yesterday, who looked at me a little disbelievingly at the fact that I HADN'T GIVEN BIRTH YET. Yes lady, I'm still preggo, come join the party! She did, however, announce that the head is now 1/5 engaged (which basically means that it's almost rammed into my crotch and ready to go). As a subsequent pregnancy, this can only be good news given that I'm told on a DAILY basis that subsequent babies don't engage until the last minute.

Of course, one may need to define the meaning of "minute" to an unborn, cos clearly, some just don't get it.

I obviously tried not to get excited last night, and found that it was actually quite easy to not get excited to be honest. I'm quite cynical at the moment about it all, and half expect to go into labour AFTER tomorrows meeting with the consultant. Which is fine; I know I went 3 days over with Noah, and according to the due dates at the hospital I am currently 40+1. Which is fine. If we were to go RIGHT back and go by "real" dates, I don't think I'd actually be due until next Wednesday (which is even funnier and something not worth thinking about right now).

I guess it's time to start walking. Cos you know, SPD + walking = AWESOME.

Incidentally, people, I WILL update when I know I'm on labour I can assure you. You're welcome to follow my updates on twitter which will probably give the most up-to-date commentary I can do, or check my facebook page if you're there and I'll try to do the same there. Trust me, I don't think I'm going to suddenly forget to announce I'm in labour and/or delivered a 27lb infant. Unless I'm truly drugged up of course.

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.*

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 29+0 days
Month: 7
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 27 weeks
Time to Go: 76 days
Size: Average, with built in swimming pool

You see, GTT is actually a form of torture. GTT actually does not stand for Glucose Tolerance Test.

It stands for:

Get The pregnant lady to spew up anything we give her and make her retch for a good half hour after the Torture.

So no, we weren't successful this morning. I got about three quarters of the way through the drink, retching all the way, and finally threw some back up. Lovely. Which meant the test was immediately over. AFTER they had already jabbed me with the needle and taken blood and the rest.

If you've never had a GTT, you're required to fast for 14 hours beforehand (which is just as well I failed because I may have eaten 11½ hours earlier...). So pregnant lady, empty stomach. Let's just remember that.

They then take your blood, which I have no problem with. Needles do not phase me. What DID phase me, was the cup of warm, tropical flavoured Lucozade, which had the consistency of phlegm. THAT did not go down so well. I took a sip at first and immediately felt my stomach churn. I knew this would not go well.

So I took a humongous swig in the hope that I could just get it down faster. I started heaving and brought a tiny bit back up. Which, stupidly, I swallowed again straight away. Psyched up for the home stretch I took another large swig and DING DING DING!! JACKPOT!! Up it came.

Test over. So I go back in the morning to do it again! I can't wait.

However, the good news that came out of this morning was that the (LOVELY AWESOME FAB) midwives at the hospital don't think there's cause for concern with the whole polyhydramnios thing; they reckon my levels are in the normal range. They're speaking to the consultants to see if I need referral, but it's unlikely. And they're still convinced I'll get my home birth. BUT I do need to do the GTT again because of the potential link between the two.

I'm trying to understand most of this, and follow the lingo and jargon, and surprisingly, I'm still not worried at this stage. I'm not sure why, I don't know if I should be worried, but no, still not phased.

I would, however, like to tell you all about the fact that my son and I share EVERYTHING. Today whilst he was sat on my lap for a cuddle watching tv, my own case of excess F.O.F. caught me off guard. I dripped watery snot directly into his hair. Of course I wiped it out immediately. He didn't even notice.

See how loving, caring and sharing we are in our house?

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 27+3 days
Month: 7
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 26 weeks
Heartbeat: Fast
Time to Go: 87 days
Size: Amoeba
Time til 4D Scan: 9 days

And yet somehow, my weight gain is still (albeit marginally) lower than this stage with Noah. And as someone on Facebook pointed out, I'm well on my way to my 5-a-Day, right?

I spoke to Snr MW#2 today, Snr MW#1 was unavailable. But that was ok, because Snr MW#2 also happened to be in charge of Risk Assessment in labour and delivery, and a VERY VERY VERY nice person. Who was full of respect. And DIDN'T talk to me like some dumb ignorant whore who didn't know any better.

She's going to relay everything I said to Snr MW#1 and try to request me a different MW, as well as "have a chat" with my MW.

We'll see what happens, but at this stage I'm VERY pleased and finally starting to feel reassured about the birth again. I confess I was starting to get really apprehensive about it all, and even though I had no intentions of giving in, I sure as hell wasn't feeling very confident in myself or anyone else.

On a lighter note, Noah has demonstrated utter extreme cuteness lately; he has this book with loads of pictures of animals and farm stuff. Ask him to point to the cat or the duck on any page and he'll find it (which means he's actually sitting still long enough for that to happen!). Mention Archie (our cat) and he'll bring you her doughnut bed (which isn't so great because it's plastered with fur) or he'll shout at the cat. "Ah! Ah! AH! ....*point* AHH!"

Also, he's started trying to say "duck" (which comes out "a-duh") and does the duck actions for a song I sing to him (his fat little hands waving and clenching); only he does it with this sly awesome grin on his face, like he knows how cute he is. Ahw man, he's such a dude.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 27+0 days
Month: 7
Trimester: 3 (what the freaking fuckity fuck?)
Fetus Age: 25 weeks
Heartbeat: Dunno, useless MW# 9,022 didn't tell me
Time to Go: 90 days
Size: Dot
Time til 4D Scan: 12 days

You know all about this button that I'm going to push, right? Nooo not that button, which I still haven't pushed by the way, I mean THIS button.

Well it seems there are people who don't understand my desire to push the frigging button, and therefore push my buttons, which, well, just makes me want to bitch slap them.

Allow me to explain, because that barely even made sense to me.

Midwife appt today, and MW#2, or possibly 17 (lost count, it was the one who dealt with me when preg with Noah) was there along with a trainee. I have no major issues with MW#2, apart from that every so often she may say little things that niggle me a bit. Today she niggled me a LOT.

Trainee MW#n: You want another home birth, yeah?

Me: Ideally; Noah's birth went so well and hospitals freak me out a bit so...

MW#2: Ah but you still had to go into hospital after all of that didn't you? Ha ha!!

Which meant I then had to explain the tearing situation to Trainee while MW#2 (to me) looked quite smug. Hmm, thanks bitch, that's just what I need. MW#3 wanted the job done properly. The end. Get over yourself, biatch.

It's not the first time she's said that, so I'm kinda used to it (though I shouldn't have to be) so I let it go. Unfortunately she seemed to be on a roll today.

Trainee MW#n: Noah was a big baby, yeah?

Me: Yup!! Just shy of 11lbs.

TMW: And you had him at home?

Me: Yup!! (whilst climbing on to bed to be checked) Waterbirth and it was brilliant, would like to do it again.

T: Great!

MW#2: Yeah there's NO WAY she'd have given birth at home without the pool, it would definitely have been shoulder dystocia, it just wouldn't have been successful.

...wtf? Bitch, what the hell did you just say? With me in the room? Are you ragging me up for real?? I appreciate Noah was big, potential problems, yaddah yaddah, but what the fuck? Where the hell is the support that I deserve? Do you have any idea what the hell you're saying? And do you have a fucking clue that saying shit like that, with me IN THE ROOM, is a sure fire way to make me want to have a home birth even more???!

Freaking stupid whore.

She pissed me off immensely with her attitude and extremely unsupportive self, and I would be less bothered had she made the comment to me directly with no one else in the room. But no, this is the attitude she chooses to spread amongst TRAINEES, fer fucks sake. I'm mostly pissed off with her lack of support. Yes I KNOW there are dangers (as with EVERY frigging labour). Yes I KNOW it could be another big one (even though nobody really knows idea what size it will be). Yes I KNOW I'll have to go in if something goes wrong (what do you take me for? A brainless gibbering dumbass without a clue?) At the end of the day, bitch, I did it, didn't I? And there were no serious complications? In fact, bitch, were you even there??

I twittered about it and had a great response about what to do:

cosmicgirlie: Midwife totally has me wound up today. Thinking about bitch slapping her, but that would be bad. Right?

kirstymorrisuk: depends if you film yourself doing it, then post it to YouTube whilst laughing your tits off. That would then be bad :D

cg: ...is it wrong that I like that idea? (or at the very least, it really made me laugh?)

kmuk: What can I say - I am a Muse to Disorder, Chaos and General Mischief. Miss Loki to the man on the street. Go on, do it... ;)

cg: You have NO IDEA how tempting it is. I might even add roaring flames as a background or something.

kmuk: I can see it now YOU: Mwahahaha, I'll teach u how to breath properly (*slapping midwife hard across the face*) MIDWIFE: Ouch.

cg: Damn...I'm gonna have to make this into some kind of screen play...

kmuk: Working Title "Attack of the Bitchwives" :D

And then I spoke to my mother (also a midwife) who advised that I ask to speak to a Supervisor Midwife about the situation, and request her at the birth. It's a tough call but the tiny sensible part says I should do that.

But let it be known, that if I have no joy, then screenplay it is. To be performed in the next month or so.

I want to update properly but I'm having a difficult time at the moment. So here's a story you might want t0 read in the meantime.



On Sat 5th Jan, I was determined to get things going, so DH and I spent 3 hours shopping around the City Centre, me power walking everywhere. My constipation was still pretty bad so I was hoping it would help get something moving. We got home; I was shattered but no movement of any kind. So I juiced 2 pineapples and a mango (yum), and drank the lot in almost one go (2 pints!)

About an hour later I needed a wee, went and realised that I desperately needed a bm. I pushed so hard it hurt, but there was some success. At the same time, I bled a little and felt a strange kinda clicking in my pelvis every time I pushed.

Anyway, maybe ½ hour later at midnight, ctx kicked in. I couldn't sleep through them and they were about 8mins apart. I woke up DH and he started to get the lounge and pool ready, knowing we should have enough time.

I was drinking like a fish and after about 2 hours went for yet another wee and lost my plug (very clear mucus, streaked only with bright red blood), ctx were approx. 5-6 mins and my word there was no question I was in labour by then. DH called the midwife but it was so icy outside that it was going to take her a while to get there. That wasn't a problem though, I had my TENS machine when I was ready. At this point the ctx were just really uncomfortable but still didn't hurt (mind over matter I think...)

The midwife arrived at around 3:45am, just after DH had finished getting the pool all set up and the whole of the lounge ready. There was plastic sheeting covering the whole floor, with loads of towels and old blankets. I asked MW to check me to see how far I was as ctx were so uncomfortable and I wanted to see if it was worth using the TENS yet. She couldn't reach my cervix!! The examination was sooooo painful, but my cervix was completely posterior and no telling how dilated I was.

I thought stuff it, let's go with TENS on low, which worked surprisingly well, with DH watching me to press the button for ctx so I wouldn't have to worry about it. She checked me again about half an hour later approx 4:15am and I was roughly 3-4 cm - hooray!!! I could finally get in the pool. OMG sweet relief - it seemed to take away so much of the pain it was untrue. I was breathing steadily and concentrating so hard through every ctx, but it felt like nothing was happening - I couldn't feel baby moving down or anything and was getting verrrrrrrry tired. The water was so warm and soothing but making me a little sleepier than before (I hadn't slept since Friday night!!)

By 6:30am and 6½ hours of established labour, I became very close to thinking I was fighting a losing battle and started to beg for some kind of help. I kept apologising to DH saying I felt like I'd thrown all our hard work out the window by wanting to go in for an epi, but that I was just desperate for help. MW offered to check me again to make a decision - I was 6-7cm!!! I couldn't believe I had made it that far and decided (with renewed vigour!!) that screw this - I was almost there and I knew I could do it. I started on the gas and air and could feel that I might just get to the end.

I soon hit transition - I don't remember much about it, but DH and MW say it was very clear when I was there. I only remember doing weird things like trying to dry off the side of the pool (with a wet hand), and wondering why one of the light's on the ceiling was more yellow than the others (it wasn't...) and instructing DH to stand in an exact spot at the side of the pool so I could go to him or move away as needed...it was very surreal but that's all I remember of that.

I was micro-sleeping between ctx at this point; the "sleeps" felt like ½ hour each but DH tells me they were minutes if not seconds, before being woken by the next ctx. They eventually took the gas and air off me because I wasn't using it, and pushing stage began :shock:

At 10:30am-ish I wanted to start pushing so MW checked me one last time and said she could easily feel Mocha's head 'right there' (about 2cm inside. DH got in the pool and stood behind me, holding me up under my arms while I squatted in the water. The pushing was IMMENSE but the MW were fantastic, not touching me or interfering, using a torch and mirror to observe, telling me how to push past the Ring of Fire and get the head out. I reached down and could stroke the top of Mocha's head and knew I was so close. DH got in the pool with me and held me up while I squatted and pushed – it was unreal, reaching down and feeling the head come out. Finally after an hour of much guided pushing, out came baby Mocha at 11:32am! Labour had lasted approx. 11½ hours. He was GORGEOUS, eyes open and alert, not crying, just gurgling out water, very peaceful. I was so surprised he was a boy! He's called Noah Franklyn.

DH cut the cord and I got out for my natural 3rd stage which was great too. Unfortunately, no one had anticipated baby being quite so big, and I ended up with suspected 3rd degree tearing (hence the trip to hospital). While the MW was assessing me at home, I was out of it on gas and air, DH came back downstairs and announced his weight to me – 10lbs15oz!!!! I nearly had kittens on the spot (which probably would’ve been easier…) At hospital they kept us in because they were all so concerned with the size of Noah (by rights he should have gotten completely stuck with shoulder distortia), whether my SPD was going to be an issue and wanted to make sure he was feeding properly – it was a day before he decided he was going to latch on. Now he feeds like a pro :)

He’s eating and sleeping well, still trying to work out some kind of pattern, but he did well for his first night at home. I’m so proud of myself to be honest – we followed my entire birth plan to the letter, and even after ending up in hospital we got some of the best lactation help we could ask for.

Week: 40+1 day
Month: 10
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks
Fetal Heartbeat: Yup
Size: I guess 72 inches
Time to go: uh, yesterday
Full Term: Ages ago

I have no child. Externally.

I also have no poop. Externally.

However, I do have indigestion. And constipation.

And yesterday was a riot. MW#2 had previously booked me an appointment to come see me yesterday morning. She didn't turn up, and eventually yesterday evening another MW called to say that it was actually her day off. And did I go into clinic? Because if I did then sorry about that because there was no one there.

W...TF?

So we're thinking maybe private MW with Baby #2 (should I ever get Baby #1 out first).

And since I can do tmi without giving a hoot, I've spent the last three days trying to poop. Having had 3 glasses of prune juice, half a bag of prunes, 3 glasses of apple juice, handfuls of (dry) All-Bran and a bowl of scrambled egg and beans.

I'm actually quite impressed with myself, I could possibly be holding a world record here for the longest time to go without pooping.

I'm also impressed with the number of people who STILL keep harassing me. At the moment I think I've decided to stop responding to texts etc, because people? Just leave me the fuck alone and stop asking stupid questions. And stop asking seemingly nice questions as a round-about way to get to ask your stupid questions.

I think maybe if I was, like, 608 weeks pregnant then I could understand people asking if I've "dropped yet". (Hah hah! You're so funny! Have I "dropped" yet!! Oh hah hah! Stupid whores.) But people? I ONLY JUST GOT TO 40 WEEKS. And in case you didn't know, FIRST BABIES OFTEN GO TO 42 WEEKS, YOU BUNCH OF STUPID WHORES. Go learn something.

I wonder if I should go walk round Sainsburys...it's been a week...

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: 35+4 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 34 weeks
Fetal Heartbeat: I wasn't listening
Size: Larger than before
Time to go: 29 days
Full Term: 8 days

It's here it's here!!! I have me a BPIAB and it's frigging awesome. It arrived yesterday and we pumped it up and everything. Didn't fill it though, the room wasn't ready. But OMG it's so cool. It has a seat. And handles. And squishiness. Ooooh yes. D likes it too, he's really pleased.

D and I did a belly cast last night. It's hilarious. Should hopefully be able to decorate it in a few days.

MW#2 is actually ok with homebirth!! We went to clinic today all psyched up for a battle, and she was was fine. Hoorah! She's coming round on Saturday 15th to leave the 'Box of Treats' ready for the birth, and to discuss all the stuff. Oh yes indeedio, I'mma have me a home birth.

Yes I know what you're thinking.

Me: Haha bitches, that's right, I'm having a home birth! *dances*

Internet: *smirk* It'll all fall apart and you'll end up in hospital splayed out in theatre while they hack you open and rip your child out in the most gruesome way possible. Then you won't see your child for three weeks and you'll be locked away for insanity.

Me: ...exaggerate much?

Internet: No. We just like to tell it like it is.

Me: Ok, well while you're doing that, I'm going to be busy giving birth at home.

Internet: Uh, good luck, biatch.

I've been intrigued by the responses from those who're in the know on our plans. Some are great, some are wary but supportive, and then there's the 'You are seriously insane and will probably die'. Those are the ones that make me sad...I know all too well I could end up in hospital, and know that it'll be for good reasons, on my terms. I also know people are on the lookout for me. I guess sometimes it's hard when you just assume (stupidly) that everyone will be happy for you.

I also get tired of the horror stories; it seems strange that people who had a horrific birth are desperate to share it, whilst those who had fantastic births tend to stay quiet. I've spoken to soooooo many people, and the Fantastic Births almost seem to want to find some way to taint their story, which makes me a little sad. Are we a society that is so used to having crappy news to share?

One thing that I AM thankful for is that one or two of the people who were anti-home have had a switch around in the last few days and are really supportive. One of them even brought round a massive black bag full of old sheets and blankets (thanks Mum).

MW#2 says Mocha is 4/5 engaged. YEAH baby. She's really cool, though I do miss MW#1. Still, at least we have a MW, and should hopefully not have to worry about moving on to MW#3, #4 or #5 unlike some. Still, I think I'm past caring who we get, as long as we actually get one (did you know that D could be prosecuted if he delivers Mocha? Good God...)

I finally got my pictures put up in the nursery. I'm still waiting for D to put the curtains up. I swear I'm determined not to lose my marbles. I'm hoping he'll do it either tomorrow or this weekend. He's gonna be busy because he's already got the lounge to move around to fit the pool in properly.

I'm so glad having a baby doesn't take much preparation.

Well it's been...an interesting week I guess. Can't really remember much of it, apart from sleeping, trying not to barf, trying to psyche myself up to practice my cello (which I still haven't done), obsessing over baby stuff and trying to decide what the hell to write in my blog. But here's something lovely:

Due Date: 01/03/2008
Week: 12+1 day
Month: 3
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 10 weeks
Fetus Heartbeat: 158 bpm
Time To Go: 194 days

Yeppers, new due date (because Mocha is a whale already) so let's say hello second trimester!! Can you say 'still feeling shit'? I'm still narked over the whlle DPA thing (cos you know, dog with a bone...) and had some fabulous news from the doc yesterday.

Doc the 2nd: I'm not happy about you carrying around your cello and bass, especially with your sciatica. And what are you going to do about September?

Me: Um...

Doc the 2nd: Do you have any numbness? Where does it hurt at the moment?

Me: Um, well not numbness, just pins and needles...

Doc the 2nd: Ok I think I'm going to refer you to physio, they should be in touch with you soon.

etc etc... And a marvellous phone call from my midwife 2 days earlier.

Midwife: Hi, we have your blood results through, and everything is fine apart from that you have sickle cell trait..

Me: WHAT?

Midwife: Uh, I'm guessing you didn't know that.

So now they're going to stab DH for blood too. Add to this the possibility of antenatal depression, postnatal depression, more blood tests and my head exploding, things are just marvellous. Oh and just in case I hadn't learnt to just ignore the phone when it rings, just had CJ on -

CJ: So, when are you coming back?

Me: Don't know, Doc the 2nd has said I might not even be allowed to play anymore.

CJ: Don't wanna ask but just wondering how come you're still gigging...

Me: Well, it's because I beg lifts from DH or risk driving and crashing my car again and because I'll lose my fucking marbles stuck in this house doing shit all and because I can only play an hour at a time anyway before I either fall asleep or supress the urge to scream in agony over my frigging leg/ass/back.

I didn't actually say those words, but perhaps used the less explicit version. You know what though? I want to go back. I think about The Situation everyday. After this Mocha is born, I would love to go back to a couple of days a week. But I truly believe they want me out the door. Which sucks donkey bollocks. I wanted to be pleased someone had called me. But that paranoia still says 'yeh it's all a load of shit, babes'.

I am, however, starting to seriously wonder if this sciatica will ever ease up, or will it just get so bad that I can't even play anymore. That scares me a whole lot. I'm still outrageously tired, yet my sleep at night...well...ha. Mocha might not be kicking me yet, but my bladder sure likes to let me know of it's presence.

And the good news for this post? Um....

Oh yeh!! If you poke my belly hard enough you can feel a uterus in there. I'm growing a small but very firm watermelon.