Sick, Scan, Sick, Sleeps

After a scary day of pain and a lot of sickness a week past Monday, we went for the scan on 12 October and everything looks fine. The baby wouldn't stretch out so I had to do a lot of fairly violent jumping up and down and bashing my backside off the bed to get it to move. But it must take after its parents - it wasn't for moving at all. I had to go for a pee to encourage it to shift (though in the end it was more bashing around that did the trick). So it was measured at 49mm. And we're not calling it 'it' anymore. We'll go with 'he'. Not that I secretly think he's a 'he' and when I think about it unguarded, he's always a 'she'. So 'he' in public seems fair.


So since then, I've been sick just once, on Thursday. Although on Wednesday I came as close as I ever have to puking in public in Holyrood Park on the way to work. I even had my hair held back in preparation.

We've been off work this week and we got our carpet fitted upstairs. It looks like a proper grown up house now and the spare room is beginning to look like a nursery. D set it up with a nice chair and a nursing pillow. Awww.

Other than that, I've mainly used the time to sleep and feel nauseous. So much sleep - when will it ever end? But D has been very busy - going to the shops, getting rid of junk at the tip, tidying his clothes away even. It's the dawning of a new age.

Spewtiful

And so it goes on, spewing every other day now. At least once it's over, it's over. Much better than a whole day of nausea.

On Saturday H took me to Fort Kinnaird for a maternity induction. I was not having a good day - worries about work, redundancy, oh and that baby. We had to start off in Next and ease me in gently until I was ready for Mothercare. Actually I will never be ready for Mothercare. Horrific. I learned what a bump band is and had a quick look at buggies. Had to stop when I noticed we'd paused at a double buggy. I'd already seen 2 sets of twins that day and that was just about enough to tip me over the edge.

Vomit and Volcano

It's been a pukey week. I had my booking in appointment with the midwife on Monday but nearly didn't make it because I was sick just before I left the house. When I arrived I was so dehydrated, I couldn't pee for them and they had trouble finding a vein to draw blood. Then they asked me if I was going to breast feed and where I want to have the baby. Give me a break - I don't even really believe there IS a baby yet. Then they gave me a big pack of leaflets with more ridiculous decisions for making. Do I want my baby to have a vitamin K injection when it's born?

The pack has YOU'RE PREGNANT on the front of it, and I hadn't taken a big enough bag with me. I had to hide it under my jacket as I walked home.

On a positive sicky note, I am no longer only sick on Thursdays, having added Mondays and Fridays to my repertoire.

Last night I dreamt that my friend H was driving me around the loch at Stirling Uni,when a volcano went off. The lava was fast approaching. I had my 3 day old baby 'Amy' with me although she was the size of a 10 month old. I got out the car to avoid the lava flow and got separated from H. Then the dream went all post-apocalyptic and I eventually came across a group of folk in their twenties who had taken over an abandoned dorm. They let me have a room that had broken glass all over the bed. But in the dream I bonded with the baby and I am now 1% less freaked out than I have been.