Ok. It’s time for bump photos. There’s a cartoon in our borrowed Kaz Cooke book, “Up the Duff”, about how not to choose your obstetrician. I found it very funny when first pregnant, and since then hub-in-boots will sometimes look up as I walk into a room, and announce “hello fatty”.
We do have a viking helmet at home, so if we have any labour ward issues, I’m getting hub-in-boots to wear this outfit and follow our doctor around.
He gets away with the hello fatty thing, mainly because I am still a kilo or so lighter than my pre pregnancy weight, despite the burgeoning bump that tends to enter a room several seconds before me. Make that just about to hit / surpass pre pregnancy weight. Bugger!
Put it down to the strict diet (that is getting tighter and tighter) to keep my gestational diabetes blood sugar within the guidelines. It gets harder as pregnancy goes on. Anything that is not a low GI carb, anything sugary or fatty, any eating a second helping, and it sends my blood sugar sky rocketing within 2 hours, (with the added benefit of finger pointing & head shaking from one of the three health professionals that checks out my glucose diary every fortnight). Consequently I’m pretty bloody careful. It’s a catch 22, as the dietician is worried about my lack of weight gain, but the blood glucose stops me eating any more.
My sister asked me the other day do people notice i’m pregnant when I am out and about, and I’d say generally, no, unless I’m wearing light colours. To the point where i had several old ladies elbow me out of a scarce seat at an event on the weekend with a huffing sense of entitlement ! Because of our situation, I’ve been in pretty limited interactions outside friends & family I guess, so people not noticing surprises me. It won’t be long now til I’m impossible to miss! 27 weeks: Ok this just got ridiculous. At Dr South Korea today, the receptionist tried to itemise my invoice for a gynaecological appointment, not obstetric, and when I corrected it asked twice if I was pregnant!
28 weeks: Addendum: at almost 29 weeks, that bump is pretty hard to miss. Old ladies smile at me now. Though at dinner tonight, after I finished a plate of fajitas bigger than my head, my sister kindly informed me I “just looked a bit fat”.
We didn’t take early bump photos, mainly as there didn’t seem to be a lot to see, (and the whole bleeding like a stuck pig routine kind of cuts into your photo shoots & tends to take priority). It still surprises me when I scoot past a mirror on the way to the shower or something, and catch a glimpse of this funny thing attached to me. My head hasn’t quite caught up with the ‘hello fatty’ state of the world.
Gumby continues to move to a scary degree, looking like a fish moving under the surface of water or something out of Alien, most of his movements are clearly visible from the outside. He’s already a big boy at 1.3kg (2lb 10oz). 28 weeks: no idea how much he weighs now.
Things have been quiet on the blog this week. Little reading, little commenting, no posting. Because we been BUSY.
Hub-in-boots took a week off work, and in an action packed frenzy of decluttering, charity donations and filling the entire apartment block’s bins, we are three quarters of the way through cleaning up the flat and getting a nursery ready. A nursery pic post to follow. It feels amazingly wonderful to have a space ready. Deeply satisfying.
There’s also been a run of doctors appointments, all with good and /or little news…fantastic blood glucose readings, happy dieticians (that want me to eat more. A dietician TOLD ME TO EAT MORE.), and a visit to the doctor formerly known as Dr North Korea.
Ok, he’s still Dr North Korea, but he’s not being badly behaved. So we’re sitting tight. Possibly stupid, but it feels right. He brought us a long long way from the dark old days of BASTARD the clot and a rather dire prognosis. I’m able to disconnect from him a bit now, and not feel bullied about. The power is most definitely still with us in this relationship. Possibly because we haven’t paid his bill yet. And are not going to, until the very last possible minute, say the 29th of June? Any sign of bad behaviour, and we’re out of there like a rat out of aqueduct. But I reckon we can do this with him on the team.
There is still talk of possible natural labour. Exciting.
Gumby was in a fully engaged position this week. Head down in my pelvis. Freaky! Doesn’t the blood rush to their heads? Apparently he may move out again, but is unlikely to turn breach from that position (unlike my good self, who greeted the world ass first). I’m very happy about this. He’s moved from a big scary 91st percentile for gestational age, to 77th, which is good. So instead of being the biggest boy in his class, he’s now only bigger than three quarters of the other kids. Hopefully this means the diabetes is not affecting his growth too much. After a slightly worrying quiet few days, he is back to being completely mental in the action stakes, making very very visible kicks pokes rolls and flutters in several manic sessions a day / night. He is busy in there.
Hub-in-boots survived his first hospital pre natal class on Wednesday, which was relatively free of the almost at german porn level of videos we’d been warned about, and featured a “fresh one” in the form of live and kicking two day old Hamish. He was very cute, and his mum looked unreal for a 24 hour old caesarean! The midwife educator was excellent. The hospital seems to have a very natural birth / let mum and baby bond focus, is very pro breastfeeding, and everyone we’ve encountered there is easygoing and kind. I am very very comfortable we’ve chosen the right place for us.
Here’s the bump 28 weeks just prior to Eurovision. I look happy because I found non alcoholic German beer for the party by Bitburger. Yum.
You’ll have to wait 24 hours for the megapost involving Eurovision, 29 weeks, nursery makeover, Gumby happy hour and a Gumby gear stocktake. We’ve just been out for a giant mexican nosh up, we’re bloody full of damn fine food, and as to the flat, we got us some cleaning up to do.