What to expect when you're 41 weeks pregnant

A growing sense of desperation.

The books give out after week 40. You've moved off the pregnancy map. You're now even further than the never mentioned 10th month. Here be baby eating monsters.

Even though every damn book you're ever going to read on the subject says that a baby is considered to be 'term' at any time from 38 - 42 weeks, as soon as you hit 40 weeks people will start asking you when you're going to be induced. (Answer: If and when it's medically indicated)
Most people, including a lot of medical professionals, would describe me as being post dates by 7 days even though, by their own definition of a full term baby, I should still have a week before I'm considered remotely over due. Not to mention that the average length of gestation for a first time mum is something like 41+3.

And it's frustrating and a bit depressing and you begin to feel that you're letting every-one down. Which is odd because surely this is something that really only concerns mother and baby?

This week has really not been the best for me actually (which I'm sure has been obvious to my nearest and dearest). It culminated in a full on wobbly/melt down on Tuesday which saw Spidermonkey staying home with me on Wednesday to make sure I a) was ok and b) didn't eat 14kgs of chocolate (isn't he lovely?) and my parents offering to fly 2000km to keep me company (aren't they lovely too?). I told them it wasn't necessary. By this stage I was beginning to feel like something of a tool. (What? I haven't had PMS for the better part of a year. I can have one outburst.)

So, I decided to try some acupuncture to see if it would get things moving. It hasn't but it was an interesting experience none-the-less.

A few notes -

I've heard it doesn't hurt. It does. It's not excruciating but it's quite unpleasant. He put a needle in my hand which paralyzed it for a while until I complained and he pulled the needle out a bit.

It's very weird to have some one push pins into you, attach a battery to some of them and give you mild electrical shocks while Chinese meditation music is playing. Any imaginings I had previously about pins and electricity featured either a prison torture scene or a lot more leather.

He gave me some sort of DIY acupuncture band-aids. They're little sticky squares with pins in them which I'm wearing on my hands and legs. I can push them and cause myself pain! Ahh, the fun never starts.

What to expect when you're 40 weeks pregnant

I'm pregnant bro. Pregnant as.

(This is pretty much what I feel like)

I wish she hadn't said that...

I went to see my midwife on Monday. She's been great through the whole process and I do really like her BUT as she made me an appointment for next Tuesday she said 'but I don't think you'll make it'. Which is awesome, right? The Trog is ready and raring to go and Spidermonkey and I are looking forward to meeting our little burninator.
Well, initially I was very excited. Monday I called my parents to let them know they might be booking flights to Sydney soon. Tuesday I spent cooking so we would have at least a few meals for after the birth. Wednesday I spent running around sorting out last minute things for the classes I teach. And now it's Thursday... Thursday... (tick tock tick tock tick tock).
Up until then I was quite content to think to myself - could be now, could be 2 or 3 weeks from now (I was just on 39 weeks at that stage). Suddenly there is an expectation. It's ridiculous - she was just trying to be encouraging. There is no way she can tell when this baby will be ready to be born. But now I have performance pressure.
I'm the type of person who has trouble using public bathrooms if I know there is some-one in the stall next to mine who might be able to hear me. You want to add an extra 15 minutes on to my average 'toilet time'? - bang on the door and ask me if I'm going to be much longer. (Not that I'm suggesting any-one would want that - I'm just making a point) Now I feel like I'm on a four day limit to get the baby out. My cervix is welding shut as I type this, I just know it.
This may be a world first 11 1/2 month human gestation.

No, that's not too weird.

I wonder what Troggers will have for his sweet 16th?

I'm having a moment

Yes, I know I haven't posted in aaages! And I will catch up on all the baby stuff - of course there is every chance that Troggers will be with us by the time I get around to it but I needed to rant and I thought here was as good a venue as any-where else.

Background: There is a new national poetry prize called The Blake Poetry Prize. It used to be exclusively an art prize but this year they expanded to literature. Or 'literature'. First place is $5000. Count it people - that's more than some NIDA graduates make in a year. I did not enter this competition. I jotted down some notes here and there before I realized that I really don't know enough about what constitutes a poem these days to make a serious attempt*. The theme is 'Bliss, Blasphemy and Belief'.

This is the winner.

WTF?

Off the top of my head - is poetry anything that is too fucktarded to be considered prose? How can he be driving and be like the 'only still thing left on earth'? Is it possible that referencing Dante to lend gravitas to a poem is clichéd to the point that it actually achieves the opposite effect? What is happening in the tree world that they are both fraternal and avuncular? What the hell does this have to do with the theme? And, once more for emphasis, - WTF?

It's not a poem just cos the person who wrote it says it is.

BTW - this whole rant is a poem. Suck it.

* In retrospect, this may have been an advantage.

Out of the mouths etc 3

My midwife called during a class with the kids. The kids then wanted to know what a midwife was.
Girl: So you go to a hospital and the midwife helps you?
Me: Babies don't have to be born in hospitals of course.
Boy: Of course not. Babies can be born any-where. Babies can be born in caves. (Thinks about it) But then he'd have people pointing at him saying 'haha, you were born in a cave".

I don't know. I think it would be kind of cool to be born in a cave...

32 weeks

Only 8 weeks to go, assuming I have a 40 week pregnancy.
Apparently little Trogdor experiences REM sleep which means he might be dreaming. What does an unborn baby dream about? Fluid and distant sounds? Slight changes in the light? Does my heartbeat feature in his dreams? How could he even know the difference between awake and asleep?

How it's going...

Dates and numbers:
There are 59 days until your guess date.
You are 221 days pregnant.
You are 7.2 months pregnant.
You are in your 8th month of pregnancy.
Your 1st trimester: December 15, 2007 to March 14, 2008. (0 - 12 weeks)
Your 2nd trimester: March 15, 2008 to June 27, 2008. (13 - 27 weeks)
Your 3rd trimester: June 28, 2008 to some time in September. (28 - 40 weeks)

I have fiddled with some of the dates of course. I do have a slightly more 'accurate' EDD but apparently only 5% of babies turn up on the 'right' day so how accurate is that really?

I just want a happy, healthy plumber.

Since I last posted we have finally moved! I write this from our new living room surrounded by all the detritus we thought it was a good idea to pack. (Why, why do I need a purple bag full of tennis balls that don't bounce? Obviously at some stage I thought I needed them so I can't possibly throw them out...)
We are coming to terms with all the hidden responsibilities (and costs) of home ownership. I'm so used to ringing the agent to tell them what's broken, faulty or defective and then waiting months for something (or nothing) to be done. Now we can get whatever we want done very quickly but wow... it's not cheap.
Forget being a doctor or a lawyer I'm hoping Trogdor will feel drawn to plumbing. Possibly a locksmith...

Long post.

So, it's been quite a while since I last posted. I can't believe I have been pregnant for half a year already. The first 8 weeks seemed to take so long. I didn't blog in those first months because I couldn't bring myself to believe I was going to have a baby and it seemed like such a sad thing to have to stop blogging if the pregnancy ended unexpectedly. I thought I would remember what it was like but in the past two days I've been flashing back to that time and I'm surprised by how many sensations and feelings I had forgotten.

This is what I remember - Every thing was new and even though Trogdor was planned, and I was extremely chuffed he turned up so quickly, I felt completely bewildered and over whelmed. For a good six months prior to trying to fall I had voraciously read every book and website I could find on the subject of pregnancy and birth (so I can tell you how relaxin works on the pelvic ligaments but don't ask me how to change a nappy) but for those first weeks I felt as though I had been given a 1970s Lonely Planet guide to some exotic location in which I had just woken up. I knew it should be familiar but nothing was quite what I had imagined it to be.

Each morning I would wake and wonder if this was the last morning I would feel well for the next nine months. Then I'd eat a mint slice from the pack I kept by the side of my bed. I remember feeling that it was such a dangerous time. Every little twinge seemed to herald doom. Going to the bathroom was fraught - each time I expected the dreaded spotting (that's blood for people who aren't familiar with menstrual euphemisms). I would wonder if I had given up alcohol soon enough. If my bag was too heavy. If the pre-natal vitamins were 'good' enough. If I could be sure the cheese on the pizza I was eating had been heated to the right temperature for the right amount of time to kill all the listeria that was no doubt festering inside it. If I would ever enjoy fish again.

Each 'main stream' book I read told me to go and get tests done to find out 'how things were going', to find out if 'something was 'wrong'' regardless of the fact that no-one could do any thing at that stage even if there were something 'wrong'.

I wanted there to be something I could 'do' to make sure the baby would be well. Of course, there are many things a woman can do to help protect her baby from harm but there's nothing any one can do to guarantee a happy or healthy child.

Those first 12 weeks became a time of letting go and acceptance. I couldn't control what was happening to my body. I couldn't make sure everything was going to be fine. There was no expert, no doctor, no piece of advise that was going to 'save' us. The best I could hope for was that I wouldn't get in the way of what was happening within me. And then a very simple thought occurred to me. It wasn't particularly deep. In some ways it wasn't even particularly helpful. It's also not something that every-one is going to accept, agree with or like. But, for what it's worth this is it - Babies are born because God wants them to be. And sometimes babies aren't born and that also fits in with His plan. We don't know why and it's possible that we'll never know. Yet every woman who accepts her pregnancy has to make peace with that knowledge and then move forward trusting that every thing will work out for the best and that, in those cases where the best still seems pretty awful, they will have the personal strength to keep going. At that point I relaxed.

Pregnancy is a strange waiting time – the 'now/not yet' period. People congratulate me but I don't feel I've done anything yet. I am becoming more assertive in my day to day life but I don't have anything to protect. My milk (well, colostrum) is starting to come in but I don't have anything to feed – unless I tried the cat but that would just be wrong and icky. It's such a short time but at the end of it an entirely new human being will arrive. A new person who is already with me but who I haven't met.

40 years in the desert. 40 days in the wilderness. 40 weeks of pregnancy. Coincidence? At least at this rate they'll be a land with milk if not honey. I can buy honey.

Keep on training Sydney

I was traveling on the train to work this morning when, a few stops after mine, a pregnant woman got on. My guess was that she was a couple of months further along than me (but she was also thinner so we might have been at the same stage). Any-way, it was a crowed train on a Monday morning and no-one got up to let her sit down.
I and all my fellow commuters hunkered down in our seats and refused to raise our heads in case we caught her eye and were forced to notice she was standing there. Finally, thinking 'this is ridiculous', I got up to offer her my seat on the basis that she looked more pregnant than I did. She refused my seat - I didn't exactly press the point either - and then finally some older man who had, up until that point, been reading the Bible stood up for her. NB - If you're going to advertise your faith like that you'd better be prepared to give up a seat.
I don't know - I can't drink, I've got backache and now no-one will stand for me on public transport. Is there any point?

More LOLs

Bits and bobs

First of all a huge congratulations to SleepyT (thanks for the name Phoenyx) on the birth of her daughter! Great news and I can't wait to meet her in June.

Secondly... I'm not too sure. I haven't blogged in awhile mainly because there hasn't been much to blog about. I'll try to collect all the little things that make up my day at the moment.

• Trogdor grows and kicks and goes back to sleep and grows some more. Last night the cat, who is still around, fell asleep on my lap. I think the cat's purring disturbed Trogdor's sleep because suddenly I felt one of his limbs swipe very quickly from right to left across my abdomen. It was the weirdest feeling! I squealed and jumped a foot into the air - disturbing both Spidermonkey who was watching the Sopranoes, and the cat.
• A special thanks to the genius minds behind Hot Milk. Who wants to be hanging out their underwear and have neighbours enquire if Gran's paying a visit?
• I've noticed people who know I'm pregnant - especially men - eyeing my stomach warily as though it's going to explode and cover them in a sudden shower of baby. Baby shower. Heh. It's ironic - I've finally got a truly great set of breasts which, for the first time are encased in silk and lace (not that they know this) and what are they checking out? My stomach.
• I've started rehearsals for my next show and I am enjoying it tremendously. In between shows I forget how much I enjoy the rehearsal process.
• Oh yes, the most exciting piece of news! The tenants at our unit might be moving into a new unit because that tenant might be moving out and we might be in our own unit sometime soon. (You see why this piece of news slipped my mind?)

I think I'm pregnant!

I was sitting at the computer with my hand lightly resting on my stomach when... I felt a kick. Right through my stomach! (Not right through my stomach, obviously. I mean, my hand felt the kick.) I think I might be pregnant.

And yesterday Tyd gave us some little socks with football boots printed on to them. Very cute.

Weirdness and random thoughts

Conversation today with a MOCIT (Mother Of Child I Teach). I've taught her daughter for a term and all our previous conversations have taken about 30 seconds prior to class.

MOCIT: So, congratulations on your news.

Me: Thank-you.

MOCIT: Was it planned?

Me: (pause) Yes.

MOCIT: Have you thought about what you're going to do?

My thoughts: Do? With my classes? With the labor? When the weight on my side of the bed starts to leave a permanent dent in the mattress? (I thought I'd line it with heavy plastic sheets and turn it into a fish pond)

Me: I haven't decided yet. I'm still considering my options.

Nicely vague. Smile and nod.

In other news I am finally starting to show. At least, I think I'm starting to show. I haven't had any comments yet but I've been staring at my abdomen intently over the last few days (weeks) and I'm sure there is a more protrudey bit (yes, I like my new word too).
Not so much a bear getting ready for hibernation as a bear in there.
And now I've weirded myself out a bit.
My concern is that none of the weight I have put on so far is actually 'baby weight' and is rather 'me using pregnancy as an excuse to eat like a pig weight'. Which means that by the end my 'after baby body' is going to be very similar to my baby's body - soft, squishy and unable to ambulate under its own steam.

I went looking for maternity bras today. Ye gods there are some horrendously ugly undergarments for the maternal frame out there. For the next 5-ish months I'm going to have a huge stomach hanging off me proudly proclaiming that yes, I got laid at least once - and never again if these brassieres have anything to do with it.

One of the girls in the teenage group asked me what the most annoying thing about being pregnant was. I didn't have to think about it - people telling me what I'm 'allowed' to do. (On the other hand when I do do these things other people's disapproval makes it that little bit more fun*.) (Adolescent behaviour? Me?) The class looked a bit relieved. I think they were expecting some pregnancy horror story. You won't be hearing them from me girls - but from dozens of women in your future. Just fall pregnant and wait.

*Just to clarify - I'm not going to inject heroin no matter how many people advise me against it. However, recently I was told that eating prawns would give Trogdor a birthmark in the shape of a prawn! How cool is that? I'm not even sure I can stomach prawns but I'm sure as hell giving it a go now.

Vale Brian Donovan

God made the angels to show Him splendor, as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man He made to serve Him wittily, in the tangle of his mind.
A Man for All Seasons.

Brian was a man of tremendous intelligence, generosity and faith. Remembered and missed by every-one who knew him.

AYB!!

What to expect when you're 20 weeks pregnant

• Your belly should now protrude quite nicely, as the uterus rises to the level of your belly button. Actually, my uterus rises beyond the level of my belly button according to the mid-wife I saw yesterday. Apparently I have a low belly button. I knew I was special.
• From about this point on you have only 20 more weeks or so until delivery! Yes genius, I know. That's why they call it 'half way'.
• As your abdomen grows each week, you will find you become stiffer, larger and frequently shift your posture and balance to remain comfortable. To be honest I've been experiencing this since puberty.
• You have entered one of the best periods as you do not face the difficulties of either stages of the pregnancy and are quite comfortable with your pregnancy status by now. 'Either stages of the pregnancy'? There's only two stages now? When did that happen? Surely they mean something like 'either of the other stages'? And 'Comfortable with your pregnancy status'? Right. On one hand I would like to think I've always been comfortable with my 'pregnancy status'. It's not like I was an hysterical mess for the first 13 weeks. On the other hand, in 20 weeks I will be given total responsibility for a baby boy. I don't know anything about boys. Or babies. This kid is screwed. So no, I wouldn't say I was completely comfortable.
• You can start creating a birth plan giving details about your preferences for the birth of the baby. I want a Star Trek transporter so they can beam the baby out. Can we do that?
• The baby is big enough for you to feel the fluttering or quickening movements on a regular basis by now. Yup. And I love that it's called the 'quickening'. There can be only one! People told me that the baby's first movement would feel like bubbles, or like a butterfly fluttering against my abdomen. It actually felt more like a tiny foot in the guts.
• The normal changes which occur during this period are:
• frequent urination - no
• constipation - no
• indigestion - no
• heartburn - oh yes

• However these symptoms are pretty mild now and become more profound later as the pregnancy advances. Cheery little bastard aren't you?
• You are in a better frame of mind by this stage and feeling fit physically as well as mentally. Bite me.

Half way today!

Trogdor at the 18 week scan

Here he is looking like... well, every other ultra sound you've ever seen.
Having the photo is lovely but it doesn't give you a sense of the little personality we saw bouncing around inside me.
I wish I had a little video to show you just how busy he is in there. He played peekaboo with the scanner, tried to grab at his feet when ever the sonographer attempted to scan them and waved his arms up and down while she was trying to get a picture of his heart. Playing up for the cameras already - heh.

Lifetime -20 and the 13th floor

On Thursday Trogers will be 20 weeks. It's strange to think that in 20 weeks (really 18 weeks when you consider that 2 of those weeks was just waiting around for ovulation) Trogdor has grown arms, legs, a brain, kidneys, fingernails, a penis (other wise called 'that bit in between' by the sonographer), ears, eyes and the rest yet his 'life time' will only start to be counted once he exits the womb. But Spidermonkey and I have known him for going on 4 months. We've talked about him and to him. Our lives are already starting to change around him. It's like waiting for godot.

20 weeks is half way though. The average pregnancy lasts any where between 37 to 42 weeks with 40 weeks considered an average of the average. Which leads us to the greatest pregnancy myth of all time - the 9 month pregnancy. If some-one asked you 'how long is a month in weeks?' you'd say 'about 4 weeks', right? So, if a month is about 4 weeks and a pregnancy is about 40 weeks a woman is pregnant for about 10 months! The extra days that each month has does get you down closer to the traditional 9 month mark but no book on pregnancy actually counts calender months - most of them are in weeks with each 4 week increment being described as a month. As they get closer to the end of the pregnancy they start to have chapters like '9 Months and Beyond' because for some reason we don't talk about the mysterious 10th month. It's like the 13th floor - *scary whisper* there is no 13th floor!

The great cheese conspiracy

In the early months of pregnancy a woman is given a huge list of food you are 'allowed' and 'not allowed' to eat.

Foods you MUST NOT EAT IN ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BECAUSE YOUR BABY WILL DIE!
include (but aren't limited to):

raw meats such as sushi, seafood especially shellfish, rare or uncooked beef or poultry (does any-one think eating raw chicken is a good idea?), raw eggs, foods containing raw egg such as Caesar dressing, mayonnaise, homemade ice cream or custard, unpasteurized eggnog or Hollandaise sauce, soft cheeses such as blue cheese, feta, goat cheese, brie, cambert, Latin-American soft white cheeses, blue-veined cheeses, caffeine, alcohol, fish that is high in mercury (presumably it's fine for every-one else?), deli meats including hot dogs, liver, artificial sweeteners and raw sprouts.

And for the first 2 or 3 months you follow this list like it was handed down to you on Mt Sinai written on stone tablets. Until one day you start to wonder how any-one ever managed to have a baby in the first place.

My problem is the cheese - and some times the smoked salmon but mainly the cheese. I love cheese! The softer, the gooier, the smellier the better. Give me a soft, blue vein cheese with a smell that makes your nasal passages bleed and I'm in heaven. Or a goat's cheese feta. Or a Camembert served with port soaked raisins. Ye gods I love cheese. Anyway.

So why? Why have I been denied this simple calcium rich pleasure? In times of trial and temptation I tried turning to cheddar and I'll admit, the sharp taste of a decent vintage did satisfy me for a while but it was just recreational use. My addiction requires soft, pungent, mouldy cheeses.

The answer to why these foods are on the forbidden list is simple - listeria. Listeria is a virus which won't generally harm a healthy adult but can cause severe illness, if not death, in an unborn baby. Soft cheeses are made in such a way that any bacteria from unpasteurized milk won't be killed in the manufacturing process so listeria has the opportunity to thrive.

bacteria from unpasteurized milk

bacteria from unpasteurized milk

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find unpasteurized milk in Australia? Or how hard it is to buy a product that has been made with unpasteurized milk? It's nearly impossible. I would have to go out to the country, find a cow, sexually harass it myself and then figure out how to make blue vein cheese before I had the slightest chance of ingesting a listeria filled dairy product.

European cheeses might, might carry more of a risk as (apparently) they tend to use more raw milk in the production of cheese. So I'm not eating Roquefort. There's plenty of very decent home grown cheeses to tide me over coming in packs with ingredient lists clearly saying "milk (pasteurized)".

Guess what I've been eating this weekend?

For more info, if you're interested, try this link and this other link. (There was another very funny article that I can't find now but I'll link to it if I ever do.)

I'm not fat - I'm pregnant. (And fat)

This weekend I have heard over and over again - 'but you're not showing yet'.
No, I'm not showing but I'm starting to look like a bear getting ready for hibernation.
My hips are getting wider (yes, apparently it is possible, thanks for asking) and my waist is getting thicker (my waist! The only thing that stopped me from looking like a jam filled donut! It made me look like a jam filled donut with a rubber band around its middle) but I don't look pregnant.
I want out of this half way stage. I want to either have the classic 'swallowed a watermelon' look or not at all. Of course, I'll be sick of that too by the end.

The hills are alive

When I woke up this morning I found that Trodgor had hunkered over to my left side during the night. It was like a little mountain peak sloping down to the plains below...

I hope he moves more into the middle soon or all be spending my day walking in curves, dragged around my lopsided stomach.

6 Years and 19 weeks

Today Spidermonkey and I have been a couple for 6 years. On ANZAC Day 2002 we saw a movie, then went to a park and decided that why yes, we would like to see each other again.
6 years ago we really didn't know each other. We'd been out to dinner a few times, seen a few DVDs, built sets at the theatre but we weren't 'friends' before we started dating.
6 years later we have traveled together, bought our own place together and we have this

together.

SPOILER ALERT!!

First of all, and most importantly, Trogdor is fine.
And just a bit on the amazing side.
And a bit unearthly.
And very busy in there.

But with no more adieu in 6 months our family will be joined by a little:

(not a building)

(not a miniature palm tree)

(not a pet rooster)

(This is starting to look like the adieu I said we would do with out, isn't it? Still, I'm sure you can see where this is going. Let's have one more any-way...)

(not a pet rock)

I am proud to announce that Mumtotrogdor and Spidermonkey will be welcoming...

A SON!

18 week scan

My Mum came down over the weekend. It was lovely to see her and I really wanted to blog about how we had massages together, met this strange woman who insisted on telling us about her upcoming wedding/ crap toenails as developed through years of ballet/ battle with cervical cancer/ up coming operations/ 21 year old goth daughter, that Mum thinks the cat is a girl despite my certainty that the balls of fur hanging off the back are in fact furry balls and that Mum has offered to come down for up to three months after Trogdor appears this side of the womb. Surely, provided nothing horrible happens, I can figure out some form of parenting skills in three months.
But... all I can think about is the 18 week scan.
We will be finding out the gender and I will reveal it here mainly because I need a pronoun. If you do not want to know don't read this blog after Wednesday. Or talk to me. Or to Spidermonkey.

Most women will have a scan between 18 to 20 weeks, because at this time the fetus is large enough to be easily seen and so detailed assessment of many structures can be made.

For most women this scan will reassure them that their baby appears normal.

The scan can only assess the anatomy or structure of the baby, but in this way many of the common congenital abnormalities may be detected. In most fetuses spina bifida, cleft lip (hare lip), severe dwarfism, and major heart defects can be excluded. For a very small number of women the scan will identify a major fetal abnormality. However, even with the best ultrasound equipment not all abnormalities can be seen. In particular, developmental delays such as intellectual delay, cerebral palsy or autism cannot be detected.

It's routine. It's safe. And the majority of women will leave the doctor's office having been told their baby is perfectly fine.
And others don't.
But because it is routine and the risks of something being wrong are small there's no expectation that women (and when I say women I don't mean women, I mean me) will approach this test fearfully.
There's the fear of a vague something being wrong and then the much larger fear that we'll be told Trogdor has left us. I won't be attempting to deal with the latter fear in this post because, well, what can I say?*
And remarkably, it turns out that patting a pregnant woman on the arm while saying "it'll be fine" is not all that fucking helpful. You think it will be fine, I think it will be fine, every bloody person on every pregnancy board out there thinks it will be fine. But if every-one is so convinced that it will be fine, can some-one tell me why I'm having this test?
At least the people who say "there's no point worrying over something you can't do anything about" have honesty on their side - if not a great deal of compassion.
I told Spidermonkey I was nervous about having the u/s and he said exactly the right thing - possibly the only thing - "it's normal to feel like that." It's good to hear something that isn't based on what we'd all like to believe or some ridiculous advise like telling a mother not to worry about her child's health.
We can't know that everything is fine - no matter what the test says. And if the test comes back showing something abnormal then we can't know that every-thing won't work out for the best in the end.
The truth is that no test can reveal what a parent really wants to know. There isn't a scan that will tell you if your child will be happy.
Lots of people who have 'abnormalities' lead lives of fulfillment and purpose while lots of people who have every advantage are miserable bastards. Most people feature some-where in the middle no matter what their 18 week scan may have revealed. Of course, I'd sign up for an 18 week 'miserable bastard' test. Just 'cos.
If I might make some attempt to summarize this rambling mess of a post - I think that, despite my previous comments, it'll be fine and even if it's not fine then I think that in the long run it'll be fine and if it's not fine in the long run it won't be because of any thing we find out during an ultrasound.
Any questions?
Good.

* I can feel Trogers as I type this, twisting and turning and doing little backflips in secret. Despite this, I have a deep fear that it's my imagination, that I'm only pretending I'm pregnant.

12 week 'routine' tests

Baby ultrasound test 'dangerously inaccurate'

"The ultrasound screening test at 12 weeks is now considered a routine part of pregnancy but in a controversial interview with the Sunday program, Dr Hylton Meire says a Nuchal Translucency has a false positive rate of 95 percent."

"Dr Meire claims that the rate of false negatives for the Nuchal Translucency test is also high, with some 40 percent of Down syndrome babies not picked up by the test."

I will now be offering my own service to pregnant women called 'the coin flip'. Non-invasive with 50% accuracy it's on the cutting edge of maternal screening.

Out of the mouths etc 3.

The following conversation occurred in class this afternoon.

Patrick: I'm glad I'm a boy so I don't have to have babies.
Me: But you don't get to be a mummy either.
Patrick: But I get to be a daddy.
Me: Yes, but it's not really the same thing.
Patrick: But I get to drive monster trucks!
Me: Girls can drive monster trucks.
Patrick: (blank stare of incomprehension) But... don't they have to be sexy?

Out of the mouth etc 2.

A classic discussion of labour and birth from the 6 year olds in one of my classes. (Don't ask me how they started talking about this. I certainly didn't bring it up.)

Emily: I'm not looking forward to when I have to have a baby. The doctors cut you open to get the baby out.
Me: They don't do that all the time.
Emily: Yes they do! They have to cut your stomach open to pull the baby out!
Bella: No they don't.
Me: That's right.
Bella: The baby comes out the woman's vagina.
Me: Um...
Bella: The doctors put their hands up the vagina to pull the baby out.
Me: (slightly rattled by this stage) You know a woman doesn't need a doctor to have a baby. She can have one all by herself. That's what we're designed to do. (Incredulous silence from the munchkins) Let's play a game!

When I was 6 I think I had some vague idea that a baby came out of a woman's belly button - a bit like toothpaste perhaps?

Check out

Salad Days. The continuing adventures of Norah, Splog, Sprog and Dog make for wonderful reading. Spidermonkey gets to hear all about it every time there's a new post and now you do too - you lucky people.

What really happened when we went to hear the heartbeat.

Yes gentle reader, I have not been totally forthcoming with you in regards to what took place when Spidermonkey and I went to hear Trogdor's heartbeat.
What actually happened was this:
The midwife - a very nice woman named Jane - after asking me a wide range of questions (Yes, I am fairly healthy. No, I am not a drug addict, No, I am not crazy) got me to lie on the pseudo-bed thing every doctor's office has and had a feel of my 'belly' (I'm fairly sure I keep babies in my uterus but whatever). Then she got a look on her face. She did some more poking. She stared at me, then she stared at my 'belly'. She stared at me again.

My thoughts: Ohshitohshitohshit. There's nothing in there. I'm hollow. Trogdor's dead.
Jane: Are you completely sure of your dates?
Me: Yes. I was until just then.
Jane: It's just that you're measuring very large for dates. I would say you're 20 weeks pregnant. Or else there might be twins.
My thoughts: It's okay. IhaveababyIhaveababyIhavea... what the? Twins?!

Spidermonkey and I had joked about having Trogdor and The Cheat in there but not seriously. Nervously we listened to the heartbeat. We could only hear one but Jane said it was quite rare to pick up twins that way in any case. I remember I got very giggly. I was so worried I would be told that I didn't have a baby at all that I had never entertained the thought I might have two.

The few people we told about this were much more concerned than we were, I suspect. My thinking at this stage was that people have multiples all the time (well, maybe not all the time - it would be messy on public transport to start with) and they manage. I didn't honestly believe I had twins but I was a lot more inclined to accept that than accept that I'd made a mistake with my dates.

So, today we went into the hospital for a 'dates' ultra sound and the upshot is (drum roll please) my dates are fine and there's only one bub. Yeah... w00t.

While I was in there the woman doing the scan (Laine? Leanne? some-one) asked when I was coming in for my next u/s. I said I hadn't made an appointment yet.
Her: Can I ask why you haven't made an 18 week scan appointment?
Me: Couldn't be bothered/too lazy/busy (words to that effect). Does it matter it it's a bit late?
Her: We do like women to have the scan at 18 weeks so if there is a problem they have some time to think about what they want to do.
My thoughts: I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to have a baby.
Me: Well, we wouldn't terminate so that takes some of the pressure off getting it done.
Her: I'll go and see if I can make you an appointment now.

I'm sorely tempted to tell them to stick their next appointment.

The best thing to come out of this was that previously I'd been bemoaning my total lack of 'inner knowledge' regarding my pregnancy right up until the MW said to 'either your dates are wrong or you have twins'. I absolutely knew my dates were fine and I also knew I was only having one baby. Go the maternal instinct. It exists and apparently I have one. Who knew?

The taste that really satisfies

I've been disappointed by my lack of pregnancy cravings. As any female over the age of 10 could tell you a proper craving makes whatever it is you 'must-have-now-or-I'll-die' so much better when you finally get to have it. So in my mind, if a 'normal' PMS-y craving for chocolate makes a Tim Tam better by 3X then a pregnancy craving could make it better by, I don't know, 15X? That would make it better than just about ANYTHING else on the PLANET. A Tim Tam that was 15X better then any other Tim Tam you've ever had? Surely, this is the reason why people keep having babies.
So I've been a bit miffed that I've missed out on that aspect of pregnancy so far. However, I have been reading about other people's cravings (bless the internet) and there are cravings out there for things I didn't even think it was possible to crave. Forget the boring ones about dirt and metal shavings - these ones are a bit frightening. (I promise I have not made any of them up.)

I dont know what it is but I crave vicks vapor rub. I put it all over me before I go to sleep and just recently I rubbed it on my gums to taste it! I love it! is that weird? I also love the smell of Pine soil. I mop 3 times a day.

I'm 38 weeks pregnant with my second daughter. Throughout both pregnancies I've craved bubble bath - I've never drank it out the bottle but I have eaten the bubbles it creates in the bath every now and again!

I have had the strangest cravings for rubber and also tile adheshive, just anything that you really should not eat!!!

Since I saw someone washing their car I cannot stop thinking about chewing on a sponge, had to go and buy one today to chew on. Im not eating it, just chewing on it.

Toilet paper...talk about strange! (...) my body may be lacking something it needs...but what could toilet paper have that I need?

I'm not making fun of these women at all but it fascinates me that some-one's body will crave bubbles or sponges. I can understand dirt in the sense that maybe it has some sort of nutrient/mineral that the body might lack, but sponges? Really?

Out of the mouths etc.

A fortnight ago I told my Friday class I was expecting a baby.
Last Friday one of the boys ran in and wanted to know if I'd had it yet.

Umm... no. Not yet.

One of the girls was very indignant to find out that I was 15 weeks pregnant and I hadn't told them earlier. I tried to explain in kid friendly terms that losing a baby in the first few months is very common and that even at this stage 'being pregnant' is not the same as 'having a living baby at home with you'. She was quite perturbed by this information.

Of course, so am I.

Congratulations!

Congratulations to Phoenyx who announced her engagement to Caveman today!
Wishing you every happiness you crazy kids.

Blog news

Okay, Spidermonkey has been fiddling with the blog and found a cool option which enables people who don't use blogger to post comments.
Go crazy people. Or not. Either option is fine.

2 makes u LOL

Slinky Cat



Scarred for life cat

Week 16

The space dragon grows.

• Trogdor is probably 5.5 inches long and weighs around 6oz.
• Trogdor can grasp with his/her hands, kick and do somersaults
• There is enough calcium in his/her bones to show up on an X-Ray (if it wasn't a dangerous thing to do I would so want to do that!)
• Fingernails are well formed
• Legs are no longer than arms
  

Another interesting pregnancy fact

I read in some weighty tome that if you suffer an injury during pregnancy you might as well just get used to it as your body's priority is going to be on growing the baby rather than on healing itself.
My skin gets very dry and itchy during winter. Five days ago I was scratching my leg when the skin just split apart like tissue paper. The cut isn't deep but it is surprisingly long. Not only has it not even started to heal yet but I think it's begun to travel further down my leg - spreading like a crack in a windshield.
Surely this isn't fair. ("Welcome to motherhood," I hear my mum-friends say.) Seriously though, I'm growing an entire human being at the moment, albeit on a miniature scale, so why can't I grow my own skin back? I don't want to sound childish but I was in this body first!
Spidermonkey said he thought pregnant women would have super powers of rejuvenation and I have to say I agree with him. What happened to 'glowing'? At the moment any area below my knees looks leprous. Well, it's not like I was planning on strutting around in a mini skirt any time soon anyway. And may I add "hmph".

I just wanted to say...

I didn't think any-one was going to read this thing. Primarily I was writing it so that I could remember what it was all like when I'm the mother of a 3 year old and wondering what the hell I was thinking in the first place.
Secondly I had an idea that maybe Trogdor could flick through it at some point and find out that I haven't been who ever the hell I turn out to be all my life.
Seriously though, it surprises me every time some one mentions something I wrote in the blog. There's the momentary confusion of 'hang on, how did you know that?' before I realise - oh yes. The blog. (Which I always think of us Mumtotrogdor blog not 9 Months of etc. Stupid name. I wonder if it's too late to change it?)
So, just to get things straight - I am completely appreciative of, and indebted to, any one who has been excited and happy for us. Friends have sent us flowers, given hugs, phoned us, written e-mails and even read through this blog. 20 minutes after I wrote the stalking entry a friend rang from Japan (from Japan!) to make sure I was ok. People have offered to help with the baby shower, assist in moving house, make frozen meals after the birth and even drop off biscuits during the birth (hopefully I can score some of Tyd's shortbread that way. That stuff is seriously addictive).
I can't explain how important all the support we have received has been to me. That no one has said 'you're going to be a mother - are you kidding?' has meant a great deal.
I am immensely flattered that when people who know me hear me making comments about drinking at Trogdor's baptism, or using my child to get preferential treatment at U2 concerts, they give me the benefit of the doubt and laugh with me (or at least haven't called DOCS yet).
Sometimes I get a bit weepy thinking about how lucky I am and I haven't even started on the man himself yet - the fabulous Spidermonkey.
So yes, while random people can annoy (recent prize winner "You shouldn't drink coffee while you're pregnant. My mum drank coffee all the time when she was pregnant with me and she couldn't sleep"), books can patronize ("As soon as you suspect you're pregnant see a doctor immediately") and websites can baffle ("Make a nappy out of a bamboo flat with a booster") I wouldn't swap the people in my life for all the bamboo flats with boosters in the world (whatever they are).

The Circle of Life

On Saturday we celebrated a friend's 40th birthday. While we were there I caught up with a woman who I haven't seen for awhile who is also pregnant and a few weeks in front of me.
On Monday we heard Trogdor's heart beating at 157 beats per minute.
On Tuesday morning we attended Peter's funeral.

And so it goes on.

And he said:
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? (...)

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity (...)

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet : On Death

I will post mournful poetry if I feel like it. So there.

(Just be grateful I'm not inflicting any of my own poetry on you. With all these pregnancy hormones running around my system I'm sure some pretty awful poetry will bubble to the top at some point.)

What to expect when you're expecting - not much apparently

The start of week 15.
I still don't 'feel' particularly pregnant. I'm thoroughly enjoying not having had my period for 3 and a half months but that's about it. Even morning sickness didn't really bring it home. I just felt hung over and there's no novelty value in that for me. I peer at my stomach regularly to see if I can spot a baby bump but there's so much 'me' bump in the way I can't tell any difference.
Here's what other people think should be happening by this stage -

• Abdominal pain - nope. I did have some implantation pain during the first 5 weeks though which triggered minor panic attacks each time.
  
• Leaking breasts - not yet. I'm kind of looking forward to this. I've heard when you orgasm they go off like a sprinkler system. What's not fun about that? :-)
  
• Nosebleeds - what? I'm worried about everything else bleeding but my nose? Really?
  
• Hair changes - nope. I think I've noticed I'm getting a few more grey hairs but that might be because I'm an old married now.
  
• Skin changes - nope. Still looks the same old skin to me.
• You can probably feel your uterus about 3 to 4 inches below your belly button - what do they mean below? Do they mean going towards my spine or moving down towards my pubis (oh settle down - this is a pregnancy blog after all. Some words just have to be said.) Either way, poking around just makes me want to wee.
• You can easily tell that you are pregnant now. Yeah. Nope.
  
• On an average most women gain around 5 pounds of weight - no, thank goodness. Just the Easter egg weight. I'm not worried as I'm not planning on laying down any maternal fat stores. I'll just use the ones I prepared earlier.
• You might feel the ligaments stretching in your abdomen as the uterus expands and this can cause cramps, twinges or pulling sensations on one or both sides of your abdomen - ooh!ooh!ohh! I've got that one! I get a very slight pulling sensation on my sides every now and then.
• Urinary tract infection, bacterial vaginosis and yeast infections - no and gross.
• This is the week when the baby can listen to sounds so you can start listening to soft music or try conversing with the baby which might seem odd but is a great way of starting the bonding process - look, I'm a huge fan of bonding but Trogdor is attached to my uterus. How much more bonded are we going to get?
  

I'm assuming I have all this, and more, to look forward too.

Secrets

Week 15 + 1.
There's a lot they don't tell you about being pregnant.

• They don't tell you that subtly, with no conscious effort or decision making on your part, the world starts to separate into two distinct groups - 'those who will support you and your child' and 'expendable'. This rule is universally applied by your brain and extends to friends, family and lovers alike. And you don't feel any guilt or regret for thinking this way. And any-one who might think that's a cruel way to view the world either a) has no children or b) doesn't really love their children.
• They don't tell you that on a bad day an 'expendable' can be downgraded to a 'potential source of protein'.
• They don't tell you begin to suspect that if push really came to shove, despite every-thing that you've ever believed about your own capabilities for self sacrifice, you might well come to see yourself as expendable.
• They don't tell you how condescending people can become when they give you their huge list of what you must/must never do while pregnant. Any powers of intelligence or common sense that you might once have been attributed with are suddenly wiped from every-ones score boards. The desire to shout "Fuck off, I'm having an infant not becoming one" can be over whelming.
• They don't tell you that you find yourself looking at the list of everything that is strictly verboten during pregnancy and then at pictures of an entirely normal looking Frances Bean Cobain and thinking 'how did she get away with that?'

Just when you thought it was safe to go into the hospital again...

The Butcher of Bega

The thing that disturbs me most about this article is that these women would have had nurses, midwives, partners or parents with them and it seems that no one intervened to defend the mothers or their babies. Obviously I don't know what really went on, or what sort of complaints were made but comments like

"They [doctors] didn't particularly like him but they didn't interfere."

and

"They were all worried about their jobs and it was silly really. They should have just said something. They used to all talk about it in the tearoom and no one did anything about it."

indicate that people knew something bad was happening and chose not to get involved.
It strikes me as a sample of what the psychology behind Auschwitz must have been like. A person in authority says 'do something' and good people (or people who think of themselves as 'good') do it.

On another note why in this quote:

"She recalled a woman who had such a "traumatic" delivery that she refused to allow Mr Reeves back in her room."

is traumatic in ""? It could possibly be a quote from the midwife, or from the mother but it seems strange to quote a single word with out clarifying who said it, or what the rest of the comment was. All the other quotes are sentences - this is the only individual word to be ""-ed. What it manages to do - intentionally or not - is to call into question the use of the word 'traumatic'.

Do we believe that it's impossible for a woman to have a traumatic birth? Are we still at the stage where we think women can experience a doctor who

mutilated their genitals, botched procedures and sexually assaulted them

but still leave the hospital saying "At least I've got a healthy baby and that's all that matters"?

Because if that's true, then women's health care has come no-where since year dot.

All growed up

When Spidermonkey and I left the house yesterday morning the soft dew of youth was still upon us. Wild, unfettered and free we met the new day.
By the time we returned that night we were all growed up. Yes gentle reader, we have become home owners. And when I say 'home owners' I mean mortgage owners. Huzzah. The Great Australian Dream.
Our Great Australian Dream takes the form of a nice, new unit with two balconies and a lock up garage with storage space. (You know you're all growed up when the idea of storage space sends you into silent, blissful raptures. "We could put our winter linen down there!")
There is room for us, there is room for ALL our copious amount of stuff (we hope) and there is room for baby. There may even be room for Cat if we can't find his owners. There's even space for a dining area to be set up so we can have the high chair next to the table! (I have previously explained the importance of this.)
Regardless of the fact that we stayed within our budget and have kept borrowing to a minimum we both had some sleepless nights any-way. I guess it goes with the territory - and it's good practice.
Now we just have to pack. Damn.

Photos will follow.

Ring down the curtain

Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest. Act 4, Scene 1.

Peter Ryan - missed and missed and missed.

More random thoughts

1. We may have been adopted by a cat. We met this cat for the first time 10 days ago. He was initially very nervous around us but was gradually convinced to come over for a pat. Although I kept an eye out for him I didn't see him again for about a week. On Easter day, however, we were walking back from the fish and chip shop when we heard a meowing behind us. There was the cat, following us and obviously keen to be invited over for dinner. That night I set him up with a cat box on the veranda outside. He was gone in the morning but turned up again for food and company that evening. Because he is a 'whole' male who is just reaching adolescence, I haven't been brave enough to keep him indoors at night. Male cat spray might just lose us our bond. We will try to find his owners and after that try to find another home for him but if not... we have a pet.
2. I have been able to start eating fish again. Hooray for the second trimester.
3. On Monday I have my first appointment with the midwives! I have spoken with my midwife twice on the phone and she sounds very nice but she concluded the conversation by saying "we'll ask a lot of questions and then we'll try to find a heartbeat." Try? For the last week I have had Frank Oz's voice in my head "Do or do not - there is no try." I think the Jedi master might be right on this one. Spidermonkey has taken the afternoon off work to come in with me. I'm excited but still resistant to the idea that I need to have people poking me and scanning me to see what's going on. There hasn't been any indication that anything is wrong and even if something were wrong they can't do any thing about it at this stage any-way. Still... it'll be nice to hear a heartbeat.
   
4. I put on 0.5kg over Easter. I think that's chocolate rather than baby weight. Should go for a walk. Should... go for... a... walk. Can't... be... bothered. Meh.
   

Disclaimer

A common piece of advice from baby books is "when telling other people you are expecting* remember their reactions are about them not you." Which I guess is good to keep in mind when you're suddenly bombarded with stories along the lines of "My Aunty Kath had an 8 day labour and gave birth to a 15lb baby who came out sideways laying on a deck chair. And this was before any one realized there were twins in there."
Fortunately every-one we have told so far has been lovely. My parents are very excited - this will be their first grandchild. I wish I could have told them face to face but I guess that happens when you're living 2000km apart. Spidermonkey's parents were thrilled - I thought they might have been a bit over it all considering this will be their sixth grandchild! SM's mum has already brought me some maternity clothes for when I start to need them.
The few friends from the theatre we have told have been wonderful. Tyd is more excited than we are I think, and has been more than happy to spend hours talking about Trogdor related issues. Everything from the importance of folate to the effectiveness of nipple stimulation to establish labour.
But then I have also found I get a variation of this comment quite often:

"Of course it's lovely for you but it's not something that I could do just yet. I'm too busy/starting my career/with out a partner/allergic to small children. Even though my friends/sisters/cousins/neighbours/mum all had kids by my age"

And they look at me. There's generally a pause. Then I say 'fair enough' - which is clearly not what they were hoping for.
I listen to whatever they want to say and I try to be empathetic because primarily, I think, they just want to be heard by some-one who has faced the same sort of questions they are grappling with and come out with some sort of answer.
But really, what can I say? They don't want a child, they may or may not ever want a child and they don't have a child. Whoopie. I know 'count your blessings' is cliched but of all the possible scenarios arising from wanting/not wanting a child and having/not having a child it's one of the better outcomes.
And I know - societal expectation, family pressure, biological clock etc etc but whatever you choose some-one out there is going to have an opinion on why you've done exactly the wrong thing. And whatever you chose you're always going to wonder if you've done the right thing. It's life and to quote the great American philosopher Denis Leary "Life sucks, get a fucking helmet."
I don't say this.
Honestly, simply because I have chosen to fall pregnant doesn't mean I know the answers. Maybe I should. But carrying a child - like the start of any relationship - is a leap of faith.
At other times I feel people are being defensive about their own choices - as though I am some how attacking them by taking a different route. I ran into this attitude a lot when I became engaged. (The best comment was 'why would you want to cook and clean for some-one for the rest of your life?' My response - 'well, why would you?')
So I have devised a disclaimer. I may have cards made up. Or not.

I am pregnant.
My husband and I are happy to be pregnant. I hope you are happy that we are happy.
I am not saying every-one should have a child. I am not saying you should want to have a child. I am not saying every-one should aim to have their first child at the same age as I have mine. The ultimate number of children we end up with may not be ideal for any-one else. None of the choices we have made may be right for you. (Or us - let's face it.)
I do not assume that you would some how be happier if you were like me as I am sure you don't assume I would be happier being like you. Every one has their hands full being themselves.
I have faith. I have hope. I really don't have any answers.
Sorry.

*Expecting? Why are we still using euphemisms for 'pregnant'? I expect many things in my life. Travel - which means I'm adventurous. Love - which means I'm romantic. Fame and fortune - which means hope springs eternal. In this particular instance I am expecting a baby. That means I'm pregnant.

13 Weeks

Apparently Trogdor looks like frozen Han Solo.

According to some calculations this is the last week of my first trimester while others say I have just started the first week of my second trimester.

I've decided to be in my second trimester.

Well, why not? Trogdor will be born when s/he's ready any-way. I'm sure my little burninator isn't concerned about dates. What are dates when Mum is obviously attempting to poison one by trying to eat fresh fish? We don't stand for that sort of thing in this womb!

Good grief. That's the first time I've described myself as 'Mum'. As in a 'Mum' to this little one not just a cool blogger name.

I'm fine.

No, really.

I need to go and lie down.

Mum.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

Simply Irresistible

Pregnancy makes your skin glow, your hair shine and your breasts swell to hitherto unsuspected dimensions - we all know this. This is the good stuff about pregnancy. This is how we get through the first trimester - "I'm dry retching at 7 in the morning but damn, I have a glossy head of hair. And look at my nails! I'm like Edward-fricken-Scissorhands".
What I wasn't told is how attractive I would suddenly become to every eccentric individual whose path I happen to cross. Apparently I have turned into a freak magnet.
The first incident was on the train. I was sitting near the window when suddenly I felt something pushing at my upper hip.
"Best case scenario," I thought, "is that it's a can or a bottle that's been left behind and it's rocking into me with the movement of the carriage. Worst case scenario is that it's a rat in death throes. If it's a bottle fine, if it's a rat I'm going to have to scream or possibly vomit and generally make a tool out of myself. I won't look."
So, without glancing down, I moved slightly into the centre of the seat and sure enough this tapping/pressing stopped. For about five minutes. Then I felt it again. This time I knew I had to look. There was not a bottle. There was not a rat. Instead there were fingers. Nasty, grimy, broken finger nails were pressing themselves against my hip.
I should mention here that Spidermonkey thinks I should have grabbed the offending fingers then and there and broken a few for the hell of it. My argument is that I had no idea of the person who was behind me, what sort of state they were in or even if there was only one of them.
So I spun around prepared to give this person a mouthful and... stopped. The man behind me was the most broken, most pathetic, wreck of a man you could imagine. White hair, watery blue eyes, disheveled clothes and a look that let you know he wasn't really all there. I couldn't tell you if he was mentally disabled but he was definitely lost in some way that I can't describe. And I knew that whatever I had to say wouldn't have any effect on him - I couldn't help him and I certainly couldn't make his life any worse. So I finished my glare, turned back around and continued listening to my ipod. No more than 30 seconds later he fled the carriage. I still think about him. I'm not angry or indignant - just a little bit sad. I hope he's okay.
The other event happened on Tuesday evening, this time on the bus. (Could it be the heady mixture of pregnancy hormones combined with public transport which creates this aphrodisiac for the afflicted?) At some point a man sat down next to me. He was probably about my age, dressed in some sort of work uniform and not obviously broken in the way the other man had been. I was happily watching a TV series on my ipod and didn't pay much attention to him until I realized that he kept looking over at me. I thought he might have been trying to see what I was watching but it was a bit... odd. At some point he let his arm slip beside him so it was between his leg and my leg which again was odd but some people aren't as picky about personal space as I am.
We were a few minutes away from my stop when I felt his fingers rubbing against my leg and then he placed his hand so it was resting on my thigh. It was at this point that I knew my prenatal powers of freak baiting had once again been at work but by this stage we were less than a minute from my stop and I thought my best plan was to get off the bus, get home and scrub myself off under a shower.
The bus stopped, he made no move to go, I stood up, he made room for me, I walked off the bus and he followed me. I played a bit of a game at the intersection - which road will I cross? And sure enough, where ever I was standing he was there a meter or two behind me. I thought I lost him as I went into Woolworths. I wandered about the confectionery section for a little while before I went down the escalator to get some salad and just as I was reaching for a Mediterranean Rocket mix he appeared in front of me. He had followed me down the escalator and around the shopping center with out me seeing him at all.
At this point I started to get nervous. The most disconcerting aspect for me was that I was very aware of how fast my heart was beating. I swear I could feel every extra milliliter of my additional pregnancy blood being squeezed through my vena cava and, to quote Suzanne Vega - blood makes noise. The more conscious I was of how uneasy this man was making me the more uneasy I found myself becoming.
"What's your name?" he asked. I was so flustered I actually gave him my real name. In these situations I usually give one of my cousin's names. There are probably a few people who still think they spent the night talking to 'Kate' or 'Penny' or, if they were really drunk, 'Ben'.
"Is that Greek or Italian?" he wanted to know. Greek or Italian? I've been asked if my name is Jewish but you really have to see the spelling of it to make that connection. I told him that it was just a very boring Aussie name, said 'Good-bye' very firmly, turned my back on him and walked away. He followed. He stared at me as I paid at the cash registers and by the time I had made it out of the shop he was waiting for me in front of the train station.
"Well, bollocks," I thought.
There was no reason to think he had a train ticket to where I was going but if he was as determined as he seemed to be he could just as easily have jumped the barrier and followed me down to the trains. If he did that the only option I really had was to create a scene to prevent him spending another trip trying to inch his way up my leg or, even worse, attempting to following me home. The problem with 'The Scene Plan' is that it's not reliable. You have to be able to pick your ground with care. Ideally, you need some-one official nearby to intervene if things get out of hand or else you're relying on members of the public coming to your aid which is never something you'd want to bet your life on.
Again, it's the interesting conundrum of life with Trogdor. Without Trogdor I could have confronted this man. It may even have been a bit thrilling. It would certainly have made a great story to tell my friends. With Trogdor - if he reacted badly, if he pushed me and I fell or if he really became violent and punched me - I risked losing too much.
I want to stress that as nervous as I felt, I never really believed I was in any serious danger. I simply felt that I was in a situation which was being completely controlled by some-one I didn't know and certainly didn't trust.
I bolted up the steps and on to the road again, with him following closely behind me, and waited at the traffic lights as though I was going to cross the street. Luckily a taxi pulled up so I dived in, told the driver to take me to central station and left as my strange and nameless friend stared into the window from the side walk.
These are not the only times in my life I've had to deal with bizarre and unsolicited attention but all the other incidents have been separated by years. This has all occurred within a month! If we average 2 a month for the rest of my pregnancy I will have been accosted 12 more times before Trogdor joins us. No one mentioned this in the baby books.

5 Random Facts

1. I've only had 10 days of feeling morning sick. Out of those 10 days I felt pretty dreadful for two. I'm generally ok but if I get over tired, or I try to skip a meal, it's all bad.

2. I haven't put on any weight yet. In fact people have complimented me on looking like I have lost weight. I don't expect this state of affairs to last much longer.

3. Spidermonkey, my Mum, Dad and Gran all think I am having a girl. Spidermonkey has never had much luck with fortune telling, Mum and Dad both thought I was going to be a boy and Gran sent them a lot of blue clothing for what she believed was going to be a grandson. For these reasons (and for these reasons only) I think I am having a boy.

4. It is only recently that I've been able to read a book I haven't previously read. For the past 11 weeks I've only been able to concentrate on my favourite novels. I have a theory that it's something to do with comforting myself with the known as I step into a huge, scary unknown but who knows? The only psych stuff I know is from reading Silence of the Lambs.

5. I would feel very Blanche DuBois if only she had said "I've come to rely on the integrity of strangers." (Obviously I don't relate to her on the beautiful southern belle/fallen on hard times/ raped by Marlon Brando front.) From dealing with doctors to eating out I feel I am at the mercy of people I don't know taking their jobs seriously. Without Trogdor I simple don't have these issues. I don't go to the doctors even when I am sick. It's not a religious/social/political thing - I just don't. If some thing I eat makes me ill well, it's unpleasant but it's happened before and I'm sure I'll survive it again. But with Trogdor? Suddenly I feel I need an insight into the work ethic of every one I deal with. "What do you mean, I might have leukocytes but it's probably fine? What if I may or may not have a violent episode and brain you with the blood pressure machine? Is that probably fine too?" Or, "How sure am I that the chef at this restaurant didn't leave the chicken on the bench in the sun for 20 minutes before partially cooking it in a stir fry?" Pregnancy and paranoia - happy bedfellows apparently.

I was made in the secret place...I was woven together in the depths of the earth...

My serene little alien orbited by a strange moon.

Trogdor at 11 weeks is probably looking something like this.

And the good news is...

I don't have syphilis, gonorrhea, HIV, Hep C, whatever-else-they-were-testing-for. I do have antibodies for Rubella and Chickenpox. All is as it should be.
Before we entered the TTC stage I conscientiously had myself tested for all the things you're meant to be tested for pre-TTC so I knew I was alright for (having) Rubella antibodies and (not having) gonorrhea but I was never checked out for HIV and gee, too bad if I did have it at this stage.
Interestingly enough no-one has done a pregnancy test yet...
My breasts were fondled and pronounced to be 'fine'. I've had better reviews but I'm not dismayed. Note to all doctors - if you work in an air conditioned office run your hands under some warm water first. The girls were a little startled.
She then said she would have a feel of my 'belly' and prodded my stomach for a bit. The last time she did that she said she was going to feel my 'uterus'. Apparently we're not using our big words any more. I'm being infantilized already and I'm not even showing yet!
Every-thing is now signed and sealed and sent off to the birth center. One thing I can cross off my to-do list.

And that happened as well

A busy weekend. My husband, who for the purposes of this blog has consented to be called 'Spidermonkey', and I spent Saturday walking around Sydney suburbs house hunting. Well, unit hunting. There were quite a few nice places and one especially that we liked a lot. It's quite large on the inside (for a two bedroom unit) and has room to set up a proper lounge area and the dining table. For some reason the idea of having Trogdor's high chair at a dining table, rather than next to an armchair, is very important to me. This unit wasn't the best presented of the places we saw and there were other units that offered better features but we both agreed that there was an 'atmosphere' to this place. It felt like it could become our home.
We are intentionally trying to keep the price as low as we can, without living in a box at Central Station. I know too many people who have bought their first property to spend the next 12 months staring at four walls they can't afford as they no longer have the money to maintain any type of outside life. And there are far too many people featured on horrible shows like Today Tonight who find they are unable to pay back their home loan and lose everything (except their debt). And, in a way, my own family life has taught me to never take good health for granted. So the question for us is - do we want to live owing more in a bigger place or sleep easier in a smaller place that is ours? It's a good night's sleep for me - always.
Any-way, the exciting development is that today we made our first offer! Which, of course, was refused and which we intend to raise slightly some time in the next few days - and so the property tango begins! (Cue violin music!)

And then this happened...

From the 12th of January:

*****

My last period was 29 days ago. Egg met sperm, let's call it, 14 days ago. This free floating bundle of little cells implanted 9 days ago thereby officially becoming a part of, or an addition too, my own body. Yet according to all the calculators I am 4 weeks pregnant. 1/9^th of my journey through bringing another little humanoid into the world. I have been with child for 28 full days.

Clearly this is nonsense.

*****

I have been putting off keeping a 'proper' pregnancy journal for... well actually, tomorrow makes officially 10 weeks. I have kept a few little notes here and there. Mainly things like 'feel sick', 'can't eat seafood', or 'doctors are fuckwits'. Nothing that you'd call comprehensive.

Yesterday was my first 'official' visit to my doctor regarding my pregnancy. I say official because the first time I went in to get a referral to the birthing center I am hoping to use, the doctor I got landed with - not my usual one - looked at my home pregnancy test, said "well, you're pregnant", failed to fill out any of the correct paperwork I needed, charged me $60 for something I already knew and sent me on my way.

This time they did all the 'necessary' tests. I was sent over to the nurses' station with a long list. Take blood, measure height, blood pressure this, weigh that - the general medical palaver.

They gave me a small plastic cup to urinate into and, thoughtfully, a brown paper bag to bring the container and sample back from the bathroom. There is a knack to peeing in a cup which, quite frankly, I don't have. I did discover that a) I am well hydrated and b) a cup of urine is warmer than I expected it to be.

I thought this sample would be sent off with my blood but no. Returning to the room the... tester? Pathologist? (male) Nurse? opened up the cup and stuck a strip of paper in. I could have just pee-ed on the stick to begin with. I have 5 hpts tucked away which attest to my aim, control and deliberation when it comes to stick peeing. I could enter the Olympics were such an event to be offered. (And it's gold for Australia...) Anyway.

So, eventually he tells me that I have leukocytes in my urine. Leukocytes, for us lay people, are white blood cells. "It might mean you have an infection", he says, "or it might not mean any thing at all." I may or may not have an infection? Well fuckideedodah. I could have told him that when I arrived and saved myself $60 and a self inflicted golden shower. It's like the cat locked in a box - is it alive? Is it dead? Has it peed in the cup yet? It's all very quantum. Eventually, he decided it probably didn't mean anything at all. Awesome.

By this time next week I will know if I have HIV, Hep C, immunization to chickenpox etcblahetc. Lots of fun.

And apparently as this pregnancy (hopefully) continues I'm meant to have similar tests every month. Every month! You'd think I was trying something new.