I don't know what I've done to our piece of shit laptop but I can't type or paste into the new post box on Blogger. I've been typing these last posts in Gmail and using my phone to paste them into Blogger but the formatting is completely screwed. However, it doesn't appear I care enough to fix the problem just at the moment. I am saving some of my weekly discretionary income at present and perhaps a
new laptop or tablet is called for. However, in six-ish months I've only squirrelled about half of fuck all aside so I won't hold my breath that it'll happen any time soon.
So, since I last posted two weeks ago? Seems like we now have a status quo, which is good. Dad's stable period continues - he chats on the phone a bit and is now a little more physically active, despite still having serious numerical inversion and some forward planning mental issues. I think they're keeping secrets from me though - Dad forgets they weren't going to tell me things following visits from the hospice nurse so I suspect I'm only getting part of the picture. This is probably to save me from feeling bad/sad/frustrated in my current 'delicate' condition,* which is sweet but nonetheless frustrating in its own right.
So, I have not yet had a baby. 38 weeks tomorrow and it can't come soon enough. I know, I know, I should be savouring this time, but it's hard to savour when all I want is to meet this wee person and
have this wee person know my Dad & vice versa for at least a little while.
Physically, I'm not too bad aside from the general hugeness and reflux issues. Oh, actually I take it back - this time last week I developed a fucking haemorrhoid of all things following a tummy upset and that made me cross beyond belief. I have worked hard to avoid that sort of issue with a fibrous diet etc - it was uncomfortable and gross. I was going to organise a bikini wax but I didn't want to go with ... all of that ... hanging out and now it's kind of too late (waxer doesn't want me past 38 weeks). So hairy fairy for giving birth it is (not that I'll probably care). For the record, it is now slightly less
uncomfortable and gross but here's hoping I don't destroy my butt during birthing and this bad boy vanishes pronto post-natal.
Are we ready for a baby? I guess so. We finally finished the renovation on the baby's room and hallway on the weekend. I've been moving bits and pieces back into the room over the last couple of
days, chipping plaster and stray paint spots off the floor, organising entirely too preshus little onesies etc. While the house is not yet
back to tidy (and clean is probably a long way off), I feel
comfortable that if the baby came by tomorrow it wouldn't be the grade
A clusterfuck crisis I was scared of while my house was still full of
paint fumes, ladders and nails.
There's been a last minute spate of babies prior to ours, with
attendant use of just about every name we could agree on for a baby
boy (and I remain convinced I'm having a boy). This entirely
predictable given how popular the names I like are (my give-a-shit
factor about uniqueness is bugger all. I have a very popular early
80s name and it's never really bothered me. Besides which, our last
name is a complete sod to spell and pronounce so I think we've already
got unique covered). P absolutely hates my number 1 choice which is
the only option that hasn't been pinched (it's the name of your old
boyfriend who is a complete cock, he moans. Doesn't matter that he
was my boyfriend at age 12 and I never had the gumption to even give
him a pash. Yes, he may have given a friend of P's chlamydia somewhat
later in life but surely that shouldn't completely taint a name?!)
I'm taking P to a special session run by the pregnancy yoga teacher
this weekend, so we can bone up on birthing positions, useful things
for him to say and breathing techniques etc. This is about 5,000%
more hippy than I usually am but yoga has been such a breath of fresh
air this pregnancy. It's been so helpful for my body and state of
mind during the pregnancy that even if it only helps me keep my cool
for a bit during labour, it's still worthwhile. Am considering
launching in to the raspberry leaf tea and some acupuncture to bring
on this baby, but on reflection I'm actually quite keen for my body
just to do it's thing unmolested to the extent possible.
*There is nothing fucking delicate about me right now. I am ahippopotamus with reflux issues.