Meimango's Pregnancy Journey, STEPS

Fishica » STEPS » Sharing » Meimango's Pregnancy Journey » Meimango’s Pregnancy Journey – 40 weeks

Meimango’s Pregnancy Journey – 40 weeks

It’s been a busy two weeks. My mum, Gran, flew in from Oz a couple of weeks ago to help out, so we’re now a household of three adults and a toddler in a tiny, two bed cottage.  Space is tight; even more so, as I discover the never-ending baby kit that descends every day from the loft: baby baths, wads of bedding, baby gyms, moses baskets, bouncers, breast pumps, bibs, and booties…  I look through my son’s baby clothes and decide that Bump can be a tom-boy.   
The night Gran arrived at Heathrow, it started to snow.  Having her with me has been as close to coming home as it gets.  It’s bliss watching the snowflakes fall outside, whilst cosying up with a cup of something hot and looking at that familiar, lovely, warm face.  I’m well looked after, and so is my family.   
My son knows something unusual is happening; terrible twos combined with snow-induced cabin fever have produced some spectacularly unnerving tantrums.  We’re doing our best to reassure him, but sometimes it’s all a bit too much.   I’m a little worried about how he’ll react when the Bump he loves to kiss and chat with through the day, becomes a little person with her own demands.    
Though, it would be much worse without my mum here.  Gran has kept my son occupied and playful, when all I’ve wanted to do is curl up in an exhausted heap under the duvet.  And to top it all off, my ligaments have given up the ghost again; walking or even standing for a short time is almost impossible.  So Gran has become my legs.   I could say thank you all day long and it still wouldn’t cover all the kind actions she has thought to do on my behalf.   I feel blessed every day.  
My antenatal appointments have been a bit of a washout.  Super Midwife is still off sick, so I saw a GP instead.  It was a very fast, impersonal appointment: blood pressure,  Bump’s heartbeat, and out again.  My son was running riot throughout the check-up, and I imagine the Doctor was glad to see the back of us!  Embarrassingly, I was back to see her later that afternoon, as my son had developed a fever and was unusually listless.  At least it explained his ‘acting out’. His illness turned out to be a 24 hour virus that was doing the rounds.  Luckily, no one else in the household caught it, but we’ve all become a little more wary and started using anti-bacterial gel like nobodies business.  
I am the walrus.  At least that’s what I feel like.  Lumping everywhere, casting shadows wherever I walk.  I’ve never been a dainty pregnant person with neat package, but this time I’ve developed a comedy bump – and the joke is wearing thin.   I don’t feel as though anything is going to happen soon;  no unusual aches or pains.  I keep having to remind myself that Bump will come when she’s ready.  Although, I have an hospital appointment at 40+5 looming over my head; the doctors will want to book a caesarean in case I’m still pregnant at 40+12.  I don’t really want to consider this.  I already know I don’t want the other option, an induction using syntocinin (pictocin); chances of uterine rupture and intervention in all forms become much higher, not to mention labour becoming much more painful.  So, a planned caesarean (that ole chestnut) will have to be my Plan B.  Of course, it won’t come to that, will it?