I am not early, I am here exactly when I wanted to be.

This I'm sure is what Henry Peter Whitmore would say if he was able to muster up the vocab and energy.

It has been a whirlwind day - marked halfway by the arrival of 'Dash' at 2.30pm and weighing in at 5lb11oz.

I promise I will do this story justice. I made sure I documented some of my exploits so the random pregnant ravings should prove to be a hoot.

But for now I will leave you with this...

xoxo

Not long now...

I'm almost 37 weeks pregnant. Only 1 more week of work to go. I actually think my body is going to shut down before my inducement date (still a secret - I'm so proud for not telling anyone!)

And I'm so effing tired all the time.

Even if it stuffs up my working plans, I don't care anymore. If Dash decided to pop out tomorrow I'd be OK with that. So very very over being preggers.

xoxo

Sleep is for the weak...

Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. It's all I want to do and when I finally get the chance to indulge in some extra Zzz's, I cannot for the life of me catch any. It, I must say, is so frustrating!

Braxton Hicks - the practice contractions you sometimes are unlucky enough to cop when you're up the duff, are probably the only thing worse than the sleep deprivation. Some of my finer efforts include laying on my side, unable to move/speak/breath for several seconds while the tightening makes itself at home in my uterus and the embarrassing moment where I try and stretch through a wave of them at traffic lights in the car and later realise anyone who had pulled up beside me must've thought I was a bit of a weirdo.

But, I am blessed with the thought that I am 36 weeks pregnant. Technically I've only got 4 weeks left of this uncomfortably wonderful time - but I know how many days less than 4 weeks I've got before they induce me - and just because I haven't told you doesn't mean I'm not quietly shitting myself that I won't even make it that far.

Ok. Rant over. Bed time. Night all.

xoxo

A 'Just Me' Day.

So the vibe I've been getting from pretty much all around me is that I'm not resting enough. Honestly, it's not as though I'm out to run a marathon or save the world - all I'm trying to do is keep my house functioning and raise an overly-active toddler.

OK so maybe that is pretty hard work at the best of times.

Anyway, this brings me to the point of today. It was one of my final days off in my last few weeks before maternity leave starts (3 weeks left and of those 3 weeks, only 11 work days to go!) And as I had the entire day off without Charlie or Simon it was pretty obvious what I needed to do - Ignore the housework and relax.

So I started my morning with a leisurely cup of tea and some toast, mucked about on the laptop for a bit and snoozed ever so slightly in between.

After I'd exhausted all avenues on my laptop for entertainment I decided to run a bath - something I rarely do and yet seem to overly enjoy when I actually do get the time for one. Below you will see exactly how awesome our bathtub can look when all of the bath toys are removed and a few fancy candles are strategically placed around. Posh.

Following this long and much appreciated bath, I managed to do something I'm sure many pregnant women wish they could - shave my legs. Boys you may laugh at this but well, you are reading a pregnant woman's blog and this is the kind of shit I post about. You have no idea how freaking proud I was that I managed to stop them looking like cactus poles. Ahem... Moving along.

A trip to Savoy Baths later and one Baby Back Massage (where you get to use the funny little pregnancy table with the hole in the middle for your bump) later I was feeling pretty relaxed. I mean - I could've just melted into the pavement in the bus mall as I stepped out of the building. If you'd seen me you would've thought I was possibly off my face. I guess hormonally I am always off my face lately so actually you would've been right.

What better way to finish up my glamorous 'Me' day than to indulge in some Chocolate Coma-Inducing goodies. Which is what I did. At Dome, I think Dash quite liked this bit because he went a bit nuts rolypolying afterwards.

I must say - I like these 'Me' days. I think I'll have a few more of them as often as I can. And now that Charlie is off at his grandparents and Simon is at Beerfest I've got the house to myself, the bed to myself and... wow... This is possibly the best day of the last few weeks by far!

xoxo

And the final result...

Everything is fine. I knew I was getting myself worked up over nothing. But it is better to be safe than sorry.

I did manage to stay home through the night and just called my Obs office in the morning and they instructed me to waddle on in to the hospital.

Not wanting to argue with a medical professional I did as instructed and made my way there. Once sitting in a birthing suite (did that freak me out just a tiny bit? Yes it did) a very nice nurse named Sally put those listening disk things (absolutely the technical term for them) on my ol' tum and for 30 minutes I got to do one of my favourite things in pregnancy - listen to my baby's heartbeat.

That boy is most certainly a mover and a shaker - he wriggled and jiggled and even got a round of hiccups at one point. Very cute.

But the main educational learning of the visit is that A) Braxton Hicks are more common in second pregnancies, B) You are more likely to have heaps of the bloody things and they are more likely to hurt like hell, and C) You basically have to just suck it up and ignore them because they probably won't stop.

So I have a fun last few weeks ahead of me.

Very much so looking forward to meeting my baby boy - But I am happy to wait a few more weeks for him to get bigger and stronger first.

xoxo

Not Ready

The last 24 hours have been very strange. I have had moments where I have actually thought just maybe the scary concept of premature labour was starting, followed by moments of 'Don't be so bloody stupid woman'.

Ever since I went to bed last night I've felt off. Looking down at my bump I've come to the conclusion that it's further away from my head than it was yesterday - and Dr Google says that this could possibly be the baby dropping into position.

The change in pressure on my abdomen and the fact that I've been getting Braxton Hicks all day (and frequently too i might add) sort-of sealed this possibility in my mind. Also now there is the added bonus that almost every jab and kick Dash makes is uncomfortable and sometimes quite painful.

So at some stage have I bothered seeking proper medical advice? Not yet. I have thumbed through the hospital booklet and debated late this evening if I should just let them know I'm slightly freaked out... But I just keep trying to imagine that this will pass and I'll be fine.

You may be relieved to know I have made a deal with my mad-self to contact my Obstetrician first thing in the morning if it doesn't get any better. Promise.

You never know, I may end up visiting those lovely midwives overnight and give you another update on the story tomorrow. But let's hope not.

I don't want to meet Dash just yet. We're not ready for this. I want him to stay put and grow a little more first...

xoxo

I feel a Sprinkling coming on...

So with the small affair that will be Dash's Baby Sprinkle on tomorrow, you would think that I'd find myself compelled to do something to ensure my house is spotless for my guests.

Sure I've vacuumed the carpet and somehow managed to get all of Charlie's toys from the floor to their rightful homes on his shelves, but do you think I can find any motivation to finish tidying my kitchen and dining room? The main area that will be in use tomorrow?

No, of course not.

This whole dilemma is not helped by the fact that my darling Bugg has decided that 30minutes sleep and several hours of hyperactivity will be sufficient 'play-stats' for the day.

We are currently trying our luck at a second sleep today. But by the sounds of it, Ginny and Piglet seem to be jumping around in the cot so we can probably safely assume sleep... Well it is just not going to happen.

So here we find me laying on the couch, eyes drooping dangerously close to being shut and a pelvis which feels as though it is second-hand (once owned by a 77 year old ballet dancer) and about as painful as it gets.

Not to mention the fact that this 'Sprinkle' is going to be taking place amongst a weekend of awful wind and weather which is not itself a sprinkle but a downpour.

Oh dear I'm complaining again. I shall stop and give your eyes a rest!!

xoxo

Temperatures, Tantrums and Tonsillitis

The last five days have been a roller coaster of fevers, tears and a whole lot of antibiotics.  We woke up on Saturday morning and Bugg seemed reasonably 'off'. We still went swimming because he wasn't coughing and didn't have a runny nose but he just floated in the pool and barely moved at all.

Then after a day at the cricket I was hit with probably one of my scariest parenting moments to date. His temperature spiked, his eyes went glassy and both his arms and legs became very limp.  He was hot to the touch - my own little hot water bottle.  I panicked, terrified he was going to have a convulsion. Luckily for us though we'd had the foresight to ask his nan to bring along some panadol which dropped his temperature enough for us all to calm.

Sick little man could barely keep his eyes open :(

One $80 trip to the after-hours doctor later and our poor little man had tonsillitis. Not pleasant but of all the things it could've possibly been - probably one of the better outcomes.

So we knew what we were dealing with and had the antibiotics to battle it. Next came the 'sleeping' hurdle. Like a zombie I rose to him several times over the course of the weekend. He would just cry and cry, his throat sore and his temperature still blazing. There really is only so much panadol and water will do - especially at 3am in the morning.  Sometimes I guess just screaming til you are red in the face and thrashing about on the bed is the only way to get the frustration out - and boy was Bugg showing us how tired and frustrated he actually was.

Sunday rolled around and my mum was kind enough to take Bugg and I up to her house, where he was able to play with nanny for a while and I was able to sleep for a solid two hours (It was amazing!)

Nanny showing Bugg the cows down the road from her house.

And now we've hit Wednesday.  Still finishing off the course of antibiotics and having spent a day home with me on Monday and Daddy on Tuesday we have the miraculous return of our darling boy. Back to full health (with the small addition of a slight cough) and running amok in what will never really be my 'tidy' house.  To be honest though you can give me a Bugg I can't keep up with over the snugly sick little man we had on the weekend ANY day.

xoxo

From the Obs Appt.

After my most recent appointment with the doctor:

Dash now has an arrival date. As my last post states, we're not telling anyone what date that actually is but I can tell you it's after I finish work on the 9th and before the 25th of December. So go nuts trying to guess the actual date :)

Apparently we're on track for a 6 pounder - this excites me so and Dash is currently snuggled down at a comfortable 1.4kgs. I'd like a smaller one than last time but I'm almost convinced that no matter what size he is, it'll still effing hurt on the day anyway :).

That's all I can think of for now. I'm about to take Bugg swimming and then for a play at the cricket. Good day ahead.

xoxo

The big 'Three-Oh'

Yeah so for many people, 30 is a scary number. But for us pregnant folk it symbolises the beginning of that downhill slope - even more so than the 28-week-start-of-trimester-3-moment.

There are just so many less things that can go wrong from here on out and it merely becomes a waiting game.

- Waiting for baby to get off your bladder...
- Waiting for Maternity Leave to start...
- Waiting for that rude person in front of you at Coles to hurry-the-eff up because your feet are sore from standing too long...
- Oh yes and of course waiting for that magical moment when you get to meet the little person you've been sharing your body with for the last several months.

And speaking of which, got an Obs appt this Wednesday. Excited for it mainly because I'm hoping to get a date sorted out to go 'Pop' like... well a balloon or other 'popable' entity.

Originally I was all for telling you when this date would be, but for whatever hormonal reason and chemical imbalance occurring in my head right now - I've actually decided to not tell you all. I mean, you know it will be a boy so I think just because Simon and I know, doesn't mean you should all have that surprise ruined too.

I hear some of you groaning because you think I'm being mean. Well 'poo' to you. We promise you will be the first to know when he DOES decide to join us - (Yeah you and all of Facebook).

I was very VERY lucky over the weekend to get to have some Maternity photos done by the lovely Ainslie at Wild Spirit Photography. To see what she managed to do in the space of a few short hours please check out her blog post here:

Wild Spirit Photography Blog Post

That first one, of me on the beach (YES THAT IS ME!) still makes me go "OMG" every time I see it. I cannot believe that she made me look like 'SARAH: GODDESS OF FERTILITY'. And the rest just make me feel very happy - especially the one that backs onto white of me holding onto my big belly :)

Finally, hitting 30 weeks I was ranting a while ago that I would be doing a Grand-Packing of all things tiny and birthy for the hospital. You will be pleased to know I have not packed a single thing - now THAT'S organisation. But I did find the following. And by oath it was cute. Big brother and little brother. Goodness me.

Night folks,

xoxo.