On the weekend we did our last day of the calmbirth / transition to parenthood course. It was good, no whale music, we practiced swaddling and breast feeding positions (even positions better for cesareans), routines, bathing, sleeping, feeding. Gumby was nuts all day. I have this one way i sit with my hands folded acrossy belly like a buddha, and he doesn’t like it. He always kicks my right arm. (He just did it AGAIN! It’s so DELIBERATE!) . He kicked hub -in-boots off my waist yesterday while i still slept. Funny. Anyway, the course was tiring, but useful. After dinner at mum’s, yesterday was a slow start (try breakfast at 11, slacker), and then we were visitor centrale.
My niece and her partner were up from Canberra , so they did a quick fly by to check out my bump and say hi before heading home. My sister came too, stocked up our fridge as usual (thank goodness) and went out for a paddle in the kayak, while hub-in-boots finished the vacuuming. And then our friend arrived.
His 3 year old daughter was hilarious, tuckered out and unconscious in the back seat after a trip to the zoo, a Wiggles Portable DVD playing in her lap. Angus then began unloading and demonstrating. It was like home delivery “my baby warehouse”, without the narky sales assistants or the credit card bill.
It gave me a huge shock when I walked into the lounge room this morning and it was just sitting there, looking at me.
A big baby thing … A pram. In our house. So weird! Hub-in-boots , Cathy and I spent a couple of hours messing around with the awesome Bugaboo Cameleon, getting used to putting it together and folding it up, changing from seat to bassinet, moving the handle around, folding it up, unfolding it. It is so light & easy to steer! I’m such a fan. It has a seat and a carry cot . It is still there, looking at me. It makes the baby thing seem real, or possible at least. It is so nice to have not only the cost burden, but most of all the decision making, taken off our hands. To have all of that brain space and time free of model comparisons and price shopping, and just be able to say ” Geez! Thanks.”. To do something as normal as have a friend say ” hey! You’re having a baby. Would you like this?” without provisos, or fear, or if but maybes or what ifs. Since project Supergrover started, it’s been a long road. There haven’t been many easy , normal, times. And I don’t really have a lot of brain space left of decisions I don’t feel ready to make just yet. So to be gifted four, or six, decisions, just made already, now that’s a real present.
And isn’t he a natural? I took him to the pub for tea after this. First dinner out together since the week before Christmas I think. We were almost like real grown ups. No wonder he looks happy. That and the Formula one was about to start on tele….
But back to the gear. The pram was followed by a rocker, a bouncer, and a baby capsule.
So thanks to Angus (we may need to start a cult to worship his generosity and spirit) , we are totally geared up. And amazed at our good fortune to have such a friend. Because I still don’t feel I can walk into a baby shop and buy stuff. So having this done for us has done a huge amount for my mental state. Clothes, yes. I’m ok with clothes. But baby furniture, bath car and other gear, no. It would be like walking into a casino and putting all our money on red. I still feel we’re on a gamble here. And like many gamblers, I’m wary of changing my luck, as superstitious as that sounds. Of investing too much in one outcome. I think I’ll be better at 24 weeks, and positively reckless at 27 (not really). But I do know two pretty normal (ish) adults who were both born at 26 weeks…so I feel by then we’ll have a real good shot at a baby boy in these four walls. But somehow, when someone else just says ‘well here it is’ it feels nicer… The reality of baby in these walls, without needing to decide to believe , or daring to hope in that outcome. And I have to say, with it all just here, it’s exciting, and it’s hard not to hope.
I think I’m just going to sit here all day and stare at the baby gear. Maybe take the stroller for a spin to the kitchen and back. Give Grover a bounce while I make a cup of tea…and celebrate the headspace I have left. I might not fold my arms over my belly though, that kid in there is getting pretty tough.