Apparently, I'm in labour. Not that I feel much (yet) but the midwife said so. I shall try and get some sleep now in case this is going to be a long night. Maybe I should pack my hospital bag first. And phone a few people. And hang the washing up. Have a bath. Go for a walk. Read a book.

Oh gosh, I'm so glad the boredom is over.

In between waiting and willing Cubling to leave my tummy, I'm trying to do useful things. Not very successfully I have to admit. Strange things happen to your mind at times like this and I find it almost impossible to focus or concentrate on anything not pregnancy or baby related. It's sad, it annoys me, it angers me even. Above all, it's not me. I've got a pile of REALLY GOOD BOOKS I long to read, but my mind simply meanders to other places. So I try the simpler stuff, things that don't take much time and can be done in between.

For example, we've got a new gadget. A HD camcorder. Apparently, this is a really special camcorder (I don't know about these things so don't ask me for details) and it needs to be figured out. So, I can record on it, playback, and now even transfer files to my computer. They are VERY large, just as well I have an external hard disk, because my computer wouldn't be able to cope with many clips. Now, because this High Definition format is so cool and futuristic, it's also not yet compatible with computers or file formats that play videos. To me, this sounds a bit daft, but hej, what do I know. I do know that this means files have to be converted. So I'm trying to figure that bit out.

To share clips of our darling cubling (once she actually comes out of mummy's tummy), I've set up a youtube account. I could now enter a rant about youtube, but suffice to say that it is anything but intuitive and I can already see severe difficulties ahead of me, trying to explain to my non-English speaking dad how to register so he can actually watch the videos. I guess you're not allowed to complain if something is for free, but I need to be convinced that if someone like me who is reasonably computer literate and a semi geek is struggling, it will be an impossibility to navigate your way around for someone who is not so keen with computers.

Anyway, on the pregnancy side again I have to say that I'm very pleased with the midwives at the Southern General Hospital who really managed to calm me down and give me back my sleep last night. I'm 41+6 today, and after checking that baby is doing fine and things are moving, if slowly, along, they assured me that induction wasn't necessary at all but they would do it if I asked for it. They are happy for me go over 42 weeks even and assured me that I will go into labour naturally. Soon. And it looks like all is set for a natural delivery as well. I'm both impatient now and overwhelmed that cubling will be with us in the next few days most likely. I can't wait to experience birth and I'm trying to sleep as much during the day and at night to gather energy for this. Thanks to the hypnosis CDs I can actually go asleep for a surreal part of the day. It is getting hard though to stay patient and calm. My hormones are playing havoc with my mood, I feel utterly confined to the house because of SPD pain (i.e. can't walk) and my inability to concentrate on things I usually love to do makes me quite irritable. Butbutbut, only a little while longer (even though I think I've said this for the past 8 weeks or so by now....).

Sigh.

My maternity record no longer shows a week count. Instead it has a letter. Curious. Anyway, not knowing what this letter means, and quite happy with a pretty straight forward week count, I'll stick to that one.

I was so full of energy yesterday that I definitely overdid my plant care and then crashed out within seconds in my bed, book on lap, specs on nose, lights on, birth affirmations unrepeated because I couldn't even stay awake for that. I didn't even manage to lie down ... When I woke up in the morning, I had positively exiled hubby thanks to pregnancy induced snoring. So sorry. I did have a fabulous sleep though (and feel awfully guilty about it for all those mums to be who suffer from months of insomnia).

This reminded me of the hospital consultant's notes in my maternity record. When he asked how I was, I said I felt very tired and slept a lot, at least 9 hours at night plus an hour's nap during the day. He translated that to "lethargic". I'm still, almost 10 days later, tempted to tippex that word out. I'm not lethargic. I know what lethargic feels like, however, what I am is tired. Being tired isn't anything to worry about, after all, my body is feeding a fully grown baby 24 hours a day. How would I not be tired?

Anyway. On the bright side I had the big appointment with day care at the hospital. I only saw midwives and my nerves were increasingly calmed as the appointment went on. There was not a mention of the word "induction", it was all about checking that baby and I are doing fine (which we were), and to see if anything had changed. Lo and behold, cubling is now fully engaged and ready to roll, but my cervix isn't. The attempted sweep (definitely unpleasant, but also definitely bearable) failed and shall be repeated on Tuesday.

In the meantime then, it's off to even more raspberry leaf tea, curries (not a single food ghost from that, not to mention bowel movements to trick uterus into sympathetic mood), harrassment of my poor beloved. I've heard that evening primrose oil is also good.

The extra special treat they gave me was that of a scan. Cubling has shown her true face and stuck out her tongue to mummy. The feeling was beyond words, there she was, a real, absolutely real, baby. In my tummy. Wow.

I'm still with bump. But strangely, I feel better than I have in a few weeks. My water retention has gone down even if still there, my appetite has returned, I'm even able to be reasonably active. Apart from walking that is, although with the help of my friend's pram, I managed a decent walk yesterday. I could be tempted to escort an empty pram to get another walk in, because for some reason beyond my understanding, putting a trolley or pram in front of me makes the back and pelvic pain bearable and my usual 5 minute limit to ...   more »

It can be interesting to occasional analyse traffic to one's own blog and there may be a surprise in store. Today, after noticing that traffic had increased threefold, I investigated and didn't only find out I was quoted on another, obviously more influential blog, but also found out shocking changes to the training of doctors on the NHS. But there are experts on this, and I am not, so suffice a link.

It did prompt me to expand on my thoughts triggered by my first visit to the hospital after changing from community care to consultant care. The change of ...   more »

Apparently, I'm due today. Happy International Women's Day! Due. It sounds as if I'm about to go off, sour, or whatever. And really, is it me who's due? Should it not be cubling?

Anyway, due as I may be, today is no different than any other day in the past week, and probably won't be much different to the next few days. Except that now my NHS care has switched from community health centre to hospital. After getting used to 2 female GPs and one midwife at my community health centre, who I all liked very much, and who made me feel relaxed and calm for things to come, I was now seen by two male doctors neither of whom respond to the name I was given as my consultant. They were both nice, but still managed within minutes to put me off any rails I've ever been on.

The problem, looking back, was honesty. I mentioned every possibly worrying twitch and niggle I experience - just in case it's a sign of something serious which needs treatment. Not because I'm a hypochondriac. I may not feel bouncy, happy and full of energy, but hey, that's alright, it won't last forever and I can cope. The consultants, however, assumed that I'd had enough and offered to start induction. Before my due date. Without medical indication. Just because I've got no appetite, big feet and a sore back. The suggestion took me by surprise and my nerves continued shaking until I fell asleep last night, and I believed caused my heart (read cubling) to sink (read descent).

Of course I refused. Just that this of course wasn't as confident as I would have hoped, because after all my reading, hypnobirthing, empowerment and knowledge that it is my decision and not a doctor's, at the end of the day, if a doctor suggests something, it undermines everything you believe in. He is the doctor. He must know best. Why does he even suggest induction. He must have a reason. He sees pregnant women all the time. It's my first pregnancy. What do I know.

Yet I still refused. He asked me twice if I was sure. I wasn't, but said I was. And it was only when I happened to bump into the midwife visiting my friend who'd just had a baby that my doubts subsided. She simply found the idea of induction before a due date very odd indeed. I felt reassured. It took another medical professional to make me believe I had done the right thing.

So I'm not so empowered after all. Women's lib still has a way to go and I wish I was in the sole care of midwives.

I've always wondered about this apparent misnomer. Complimentary means something is free of charge, but of course not so if it referes to therapies. Those are definitely NOT free of charge. In a strange course of events and coincidences (which of course have not deeper meaning than having the time and inclination to linger on such topics while trying to avoid serious stuff and work), just after I tried out reflexology for the first time ever and parted with an enormous amount of dosh, I read Derren Brown's rant about alternative medicine and the scientific proof that they don't have any effect other than that of a placebo.

To be honest, I didn't expect any other effect than that of a placebo. Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally mental to part with a huge sum of money equivalent to 2 weeks of food supplies knowing that it's utterly wasted. It's just that I do honour the placebo effect. And more: who wouldn't appreciate one hour of undevided attention of another human being who listens to you, massages your feet, whom you can share all your frustrations of late pregnancy with without danger of being a moaner or seriously harming any existing friendship. Someone who doesn't know you or your history, won't ever see you again, who you can load off without any danger of longterm damage. I didn't expect more than that and as a one off, and after getting very frustrated indeed with the niggles of late pregnancy (which I know are normal and nothing really to worry about, but they can bring you real down), I thought I, and the people close to me, deserved it.

It was interesting then to observe how the reflexologist applied the cold questioning techniques that Derren Brown's book lucidly exposes. Just that there was no need for real cold questioning: I had actually written down my main niggles on a form. Still, she poked at one toe claiming I must suffer from sleepless nights. I think about 99% of 39 weeks pregnant women don't sleep well, so it was a safe bet for her, just that I actually sleep very well indeed. She definitely needs to work on her cold questioning technique because she didn't accept my answer and insisted that the toe spoke a different story... The same was repeated with another toe which apparently represents my gums. Again, I have no outstanding issues with my gums - they are quite happy where they are and not too bothered by the hormones that are supposed to make them go all inflamed and bleedy. They are happy as ever. But maybe the toe representing gums and sleep isn't feeling so well because it's squashed by an extra 15kg???

So eventually reflexologist reverts to the bits that I actually mentioned as being troublesome and just got on with massaging the achey feet (call it reflexology, all I want is a  nice foot massage!). It was lovely though. After 2 hours, my feet were back to their monstrous size, but for the rest of the day, my mind felt better, giving me some rest from the continuous feeling of being ill at ease and the wavering between wanting the baby out and feeling unprepared to dealing with motherhood.

At the same time, I felt bad for overanalysing yet again, instead of just enjoying the moment, and for overanalysing hypnosis which is meant to help me through labour. Sometimes it would be good to switch my analytical mind off for a while and just believe it'll work 100%.

I have a long gigantous list of things to do before cubling decides to pop out of my womb. It's so long because I was silly enough to work right up to two weeks before my due date, because on top of work, I had evening partentcraft classes to go to, still doing a part time study thingy, insisted on going to aquanatal classes at least once a week, and work stole another evening off me. So no time really to do anything.

Now I'm free, and have been FOR A FULL WEEK, Hurray!

What have I achieved to get things done? You can guess it. Pretty little.

1. I tried to claim maternity allowance. But my employer forgot to send me one of the 47 forms I need for it. I have all 46 other forms, but not that one.
2. Finish all my outstanding assingments for my part time study thingy. I've started. I'm full of good intentions. But I'm significantly behind where I want to be.
3. Phone and meet all the people who got in touch to meet up before I become a social outsider. I could do much better. At least there are excuses like people not being in when I phone...
4. Pack my hospital bag. Sort of essential. But I lose interest every time I try to complete this task. Then, when I pick it up again, I've forgotten what's already in there and what's still missing. So I give up again. Repeat from the start.
5. Do all the hypnobirthing stuff each day. That includes relaxation, reading, massage, visualisation, birth affirmation, exercise. If I did all of that I would not be relaxed at all. And I can't exercise because my back, legs, feet, knees, ankles, even toes are in complete agony.
6. Go for lovely walks in the spring sunshine. Oh how I'd love to do that. But see 5.
7. Prepare meals for the time when baby's there and I can't cook. I can't even manage to cook one meal a day partly because of 5., partly because unfortunately cubling hasn't dropped/lightened yet so my stomach is the size of a pea and the last thing on my mind is food. I've actually lost weight (but surely put it on again  in the form of unsightly fluid retention in the last week)
8. Check out nurseries. Can't be bothered.
9. Sleep lots. That's an interesting one. It works well when I'm not tired. When I'm exhaustd and feel really rubbish, I lie awake in bed and here gremlins in the loft. Weird.
10. Go swimming. Get lost.
11. Scan all my photos, digitalise my music, write my blog. Hopeless chuckle.

There are a few things I did do:
1. phoned some people
2. visited my sister in law and baby
3. met up with a few people
4. drank raspberry leaf tea
5. read the 28th pregnancy book.
6. senselessly browsed the internet
7. ran aimlessly through the flat
8. watched TV
9. went to the corner shop
10. ate breakfast
11. sorted all the baby stuff I was given

Not too bad really.

Es ist schon seltsam. Da liest man Bücher über Schwangerschaft ohne derer Leid zu werden, frau ist schließlich hormonell bedingt völlig eingleisig ausgerichtet, und irgendwie stellt sich die Sicherheit der Kontrolle über Baby, Mutterschaft und Gebärmutter ein.

Will heißen, ich bin mir sicher, dass ich nicht vor einer Woche nach meinem errechneten Termin entbinden werde.
Das mag zwar bedeuten, dass meine Wasseransammlung biblische Maße annehmen und ich als wanderndes Meer verkannt werde, ich eventuell Selbstexperimente durchführe (kommt das Wasser raus wenn ich es anpikse???) und überhaupt die drei Stockwerke in die Freiheit als unüberwindbares Hindernis wahrnehme. Aber es bedeutet auch, dass ich mit stoischer Ruhe immer noch nicht meine Krankenhaustasche gepackt habe, die Wohnung nicht babybereit ist und überhaupt ich mich auch nach 9 Monaten nicht als werdende Mutter sehe. Ich genieße also meinen Mutterschaftsurlaub als Urlaub.

Und dann passiert das Unglaubliche: Die erste von unzähligen Mitschwangeren entbindet zu früh! Und sie ist nicht nur Mitschwangere, nein, Mitschwangere ersten Grades da mit selbigen Wochencount und allgemein tieferer Bedeutung des "mit" vor "schwangere". Da liegt der Wurm, zufrieden und muede, A. schon wieder ganz fit (zumindest sieht sie so aus) und ich schaue fasziniert und leicht panisch in die Krankenhauswiege. Vergesse gar zu fragen, wie der Kleine nun heisst. Beruhige meine Nerven damit, dass er eigentlich nur niedlich und ganz pflegeleicht wirkt. Kein Muks, einfach nur Normalität.

Ob ich das auch kann?

Noch drei Tage. Nein, nicht bis zur Entbindung, sondern bis zum Mutterschaftsurlaub. Irgendwie war ich da ein bisschen leichtsinnig und dachte mir, dass ich bis 2 Wochen vor Geburtsdatum noch arbeiten koennte, damit ich umso mehr des 26 woechigen Mutterschaftsurlaubs mit dem Baby verbringen kann. Einerseits schlau, andererseits war die letzte Woche einfach nur schwer. Jetzt stehen mir noch drei Tage zuvor, das kriege ich hin, das ist ok.

Problematisch ist, dass meine Fuesse seit etwa 2 Wochen zu Ueberschwaemmen geworden sind und ich nur noch in meine Laufschuhe (2 Groessen groesser als normal, weil ja auch beim langstreckenlaufen Fuesse schon mal groesser werden) passen, ich aber andererseits nur noch in Umstandsroecke/-kleider passe, die mit Turnschuhen einfach verboten aussehen. Nein, andersrum natuerlich, die Turnschuhe sehen verboten aus. Aber ich kann ja nicht gut barfuss laufen.

Letzte Woche hat sich mein Bauch entschlossen, auf eine neue Creme (die angeblich speziell fuer schwangere Baeuche gedacht ist) allergisch und mit Feueralarm zu reagieren. Eine schlaflose Nacht, eine juckende Woche, jetzt ist die Haut lederartig und jucken/brennen tut's immer noch. Besonders besorgniserregend, da der Bauch ja weiter expandiert, und die Haut nun irgendwie nicht mehr so aussieht, als koenne sie elastisch wie eh und je alles beisammen halten.

Geschwollene Fuesse sind uebrigens nicht nur unschoen und verleiten mich zum stundenlangen verwunderten Starren, sondern tun schlicht weh. Es tut weh Schuhe anzuziehen. Jeder Schritt tut weh. Die Haut spannt. Konstant. Man macht sich Sorgen, liest 25 Schwangerschaftsbuecher und nochmal so viele Foren im Internet, die alle mit der gleichen Antwort aufwarten: is nich so wild, einfach ignorieren. Geht wieder weg. Nich gefaehrlich.

Na dann.

Gleiches gilt fuer die Rueckenschmerzen beim Gehen. Ich verfolge die joggenden Maedels im Queen's Park bei ihrer Vorbereitung fuer den Women's 10K im Mai mit riesiger Eifersucht. Was wuerde ich dafuer geben, eine Runde durch die Sonne im fruehlingshaften Park zu joggen. Meine heutige stolze war, es im Schneckentempo nicht nur bis zum Park (10 Minuten) zu schaffen, sondern sogar auf den Huegel. Und zurueck. Koennte schreiben vor Rueckenschmerzen, aber es war ein richtiger Spaziergang, und ein persoenlicher Gehdauerrekord des 8./9. Monats. Auch das ist angeblich normal und hat wohl was mit Beckenknochen und Rueckrat zu tun, die sich fuer die Geburt weich und durchlaessig machen. Angeblich macht das die Geburt weniger schmerzhaft.

Na dann.