Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 24+3 days
Month: 6 (you know I just saw this and shat myself)
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 22 weeks
Heartbeat: 152
Time to Go: 108 days
Size: My head. Approx.
Time til 4D Scan: 30 days
Can I start by stating the obvious – Happy New Year and all that.
Next, I’m typing this on the beautiful iMac, and haven’t got a clue about half the editing/keyboard shortcuts/layouts and so there may be questionable things every where.
Also. THIRTY DAYS TIL I’M THIRTY.
Not forgetting – Poopgate reigns on (I write about poop merely to remind myself of what it is and maybe how to do it. Uncannily, the same vein in which having sex seems to fall).
As well, I’ve just realised how very wrong it is to have poop and sex in the same discussion.
Reminder: Noah still has Excess F.O.F., and has decided to go find himself a lovely cough (which means roughly 3-5 hours of non stop coughing at night, which breaks my heart for him), and we’re taking a trip to the lovely doctors this afternoon to find out why he (Noah, not the doctor) gets pleasure from trying to shove his fist as far as possible into his right ear. Ear infection? Cold stuff? Trying to scratch brain? Who knows.
Additionally, I’m following loads of blogs lately, which is loads of fun and VERY interesting (with some awesome blog titles too); if you want to be included in the links on the left, please do let me have your blog address so I can stick it in there.
Incidentally, last month was the first month where I posted more than 11 blog entries. I have no idea why this has occurred, and there was no particular reason for blogging no more than 11 entries a month.
I was having a look back over what I was doing this time last year and can’t believe it’s actually been a year now. Needless to say one of my new years resolutions is to NOT be pregnant next Christmas; I will in fact probably still be in hospital but only because I will have dunk myself into oblivion. I’m not an alcoholic, by any means, but I feel I’m owed something, you know?
I’m very pleased to announce that the house is no longer on the market with super crappy estate agents, and we’ve got some new agents coming to look at the house next Monday. Unfortunately, it does mean we’re having to seriously consider the fact that we may still be here when T.O.O. is born; something we were obviously hoping was not going to be the case. We’ve worked out that if it’s the same size as Noah, we may be able to last 3 months with it (her – once again I think it’s a girl) in our room, like until it outgrows the moses basket (hah), and we expect it’ll end up in the travel cot at the foot of our bed soon enough.
It’s ok! We can cope. But seriously, if anyone would like to buy our house, like, yesterday, we’d really appreciate it, ya know?
I’m also still set on a home birth, even with the words of the registrar ringing in my ears (whom I will never forgive for saying that my weight gain had been too much, even though most of it was Noah – what the hell am I to do, bitch? Starve the being growing inside me? You wanna argue with it, be my guest, but don’t send me on all your guilt trippy crap. Now get the hell out my face while I finish my McDonalds, dammit). I’ve got what feels like tests coming out of my ears – blood tests at 25w, 4d scan at 28w, GTT test at 28w, growth scan at 35w. I can’t wait to see the results of all of those. *smirk*