Waiting

As I write, Erin is pushing the buggy around our flat finding areas where it's tricky to manoeuvre. She's just been sipping on Raspberry leaf tea after eating a curry.  She's a little antsy.

Yes, she's due in 10 days but is ready. The baby bag is packed, mother's bag is packed and dad just needs to put his spare clothes in.

People must know we'd like an early arrival as we're also getting texts to see if there are any signs.  There aren't.  

This week has been a bit up and down too.  Erin went to see the midwife and was told she had high blood pressure and possible symptoms for pre eclampsia .  This news sent the blood pressure even higher as she worried about all this would entail.  A lot.  The next day she saw the doctor and the blood pressure was down.  Life was back to normal. Phew.

Daddy class II

I was late for Daddy's class last night.  When I walked in, it looked like only three of the 7 lads who attended last week had turned up, but the group had been split in two.

I joined two of them on the floor discussing a group of words which had to be placed in a diamond shape to state the most important to a father.

In no particular order, here they are:

Carer

Homemaker

Bread Winner

Nurturing

Disciplinarian

Friend

Responsible

Entertainer

Playful 

Loving

Hardworking

Trustworthy

Role Model

Dependable

Practical Carer

Good Communicator

Teacher

It was obviously more about the discussion than the order we eventually put the words in but we put Role Model at the top with Dependable and Responsible just under it.  Our logic was that if you are these things and the others below, such as playful and loving - and help to distinguish between what it is right and wrong - a father will naturally become a role model.

This theory was slightly blown out of the water when one of the lads in the other group - who didn't have a great relationship with his dad - said that as his dad wasn't a role model, nor around much for him, and our top pick didn't mean anything to him.  We tried to argue that being a role model is what he could personally strive for rather than just remembering the experience of his dad, but he wasn't having it.

The discussions throughout the night really brought home to me that our only true experience of fatherhood is from our dads.  

Glad I have a good one.

Daddy class I

'Tonight is going to be all about handling the baby,' Janice, the leader of the Expectant Father's Class at St Thomas' Hospital, told the 7 of us men who had ventured forth to learn what the heck we are supposed to do when we become dads.

My initial thoughts were brilliant, we're going to learn the 3-step-putting-kids-on-your- shoulders-manoeurve-without-pulling-your-back. Or, brilliant, we're going to learn the daddy throw (click here to see what I mean - 12 pictures down).

But...I soon realised this was not what we were going to learn as I saw a dreaded baby doll with a nappy on in one corner and another one in a baby bath tub opposite.

After the initial introduction we each explained who we were by stating our name, the name of our partner, how far into her pregnancy she was and why we had come to the lesson (Most of us had already found out while we were waiting for the class to start - we were asking all these questions, not the usual work or sport related ones). The pregnancy dates ranged from 20 weeks to 36, and the reasons were from being forced by partners to a general fear, meeting others to having read too many books which were mind blowing.

Janice cracked on with the lesson by asking who had changed a nappy. Three of us put our hands up. She continued by saying we were going to change the nappy of the baby doll in the corner and she needed a volunteer. All this was said while looking at me. I was the intended volunteer. Half way through realising this I worked out that the only time I had done this had been 18 years ago. Anyway, I got up and took the nappy off pretending there was a great smell, got a few baby-wipes, wiped, got the next nappy, put it on rather awkwardly and sat down with an amazingly sweaty brow (All of this was done with a lot of encouragement and help from the crowd).

Janice was kind in her praise and pointed out that we should talk to the baby - good for bonding - cuddle afterwards, wipe from top to bottom and showed us some holding/cuddling techniques (I'm ashamed to say we needed them).

Everyone else got their own turn and then it was over to the table next to the door for bath-time.

She took us through top and tailing, washing the baby's head - in an 'American football hold' - and a full bath. We were told that a bath is only necessary once a week unless they're really mucky and washing the face and private parts is the only thing you need to do every day.

Then it was splash time for us all.

Next week is about What Type Of Dad We Want To Be. My guess is that has to include a part when we talk about if we're going be a Scalextric-buying-dad or train set-buying-dad. But I might be wrong.

Sleep easy

Erin was away most of last week.   Two stand out things happened.  

First, I went for beers and a curry with Chris and Dave as our girls were out of town.  We talked about the US elections, the BBC's current struggles and class. The latter sounded a bit like this.  

But admittedly less funny.

And then I woke up on Thursday feeling weird, realising there was something different - don't let your overactive imaginations runaway with yourselves - I had slept the whole night through. No little nudges to wake me up, no snoring, no moaning.  Nothing to keep me from my dreams. It had taken me a few days to get used to, but I was no longer sleeping - or constantly waking  - with a pregnant woman.

Erin is feeling the weight of pregnancy at the moment - she's asked me a few times if I can carry this, while pointing at her belly - but especially at night.  The baby doesn't like it if Erin sleeps on her left, if she lies on her back she snores, and she only gets comfortable on one position for a short time during fitful sleep.

Things got back to normal when Erin got back.  Who needs a full night's sleep?  It's preparation for the baby being here I suppose.  

Pregmunity II

I've written about a pregnancy community before.  Pregnant women are instantly friends and instantly give help and advice to each other.  Women who have been though it - mothers - also want to speak others, about their experiences.  They even speak to me and are encouraged by my probably unexpected positive reactions.  

My belief about a pregmunity has been reinforced tonight.

Erin has just walked in from her pregnancy yoga class.  She has been to four sessions in all, but to this one only once before.  And she's come home with a bagful of newborn baby clothes.  The reason? Because last time she went she said that she didn't have her mum or sister close by. This person's sister-in-law had given her lots of things and she has more than enough so decided to give them to us.  She really didn't need to.  We have a good amount of things.  But it's the nicest thing in the world to be thought of.  

If it's you, and you ever read this, thank you very much.

The only problem is that one of the items is an Arsenal Football Club one piece (onesie).  Is that how they get so many fans?  I know I'm northern, but in London we don't even live north of the river.  No off-spring of mine... 

  

Erin and Big Ben

Here's Erin walking past parliament on Saturday. 

Tying shoelaces

Last night we went to an Amnesty International event.  Well, we went round to friends of ours and gave a few pounds to listen to people offer their talents of comedy, music and magic.  It was great fun.

On the way we had to take the Tube, then a train. When we got to Kings Cross station we realised we only had  a minute until the next train.  Erin turned round to me and said: 'I'm not running for it!' 

This follows missing a few buses recently, which we would have definitely run for a few months a go, with Erin turning round to me and giving me a look.  Words aren't always necessary.

Today we went for a long walk at Richmond Park for a bit of exercise.  It's a beautiful royal park with deer and a great view of St Paul's Cathedral from the far side of the park through a strategically placed telescope.  We stopped a few times for Erin to rest her legs, feet and sore back - I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the rest but there were more than usual.  Erin also asked me, as we approached the end of the walk, if I would tie her shoes laces.  I did so without hesitation, if a little over enthusiastically, which led me having to untie them and tie them again less tight.

I guess what I'm saying is Erin's as independent as they come so the difference in her is quite stark to see as she enters her third trimester. 

This week

This week has been a busy one punctuated by three preggers events.

The first was on Monday night.  I stayed up late so I could try to win a bid on Ebay for a winter maternity coat for Erin.  This was after going to H and M, Zara, Top Shop, Gap, Next, Mamas and Papas (and probably a few more which gladly escape me) on an exceptionally rainy, wintry Sunday afternoon in London; Erin losing a few Ebay bids at the very end for 'the cutest jacket' in some kind of Top-Gun-dog-fight;  and Erin in a slight depression because 'I'll never get a winter jacket and I'm going to be so cold and miserable'.

Well, I felt like a hero, bidding at about 30 seconds to go for a winter coat at a good price. 10 second later though I was out-bid. I calmly scurried away (if you can scurry calmly) to place our next bid. The seconds ticked away to zero and I  walked away unharmed victorious.

The full stop (period - to mark the end) of the punctuation has just arrived,  Erin looks great in her new coat. Now back to a few commas of the week.

Erin had her first pregnancy yoga class at St. Thomas' hospital on Wednesday and met some new preggersmates.  The first five minutes were apparently spent with everyone introducing themselves along with their ailments throughout their pregnancy.  Erin says she didn't remember people's names but how far gone they were in their pregnancy. She wondered to herself 'are we no longer people, just bumps?' She thought the yoga was very easy, too easy and wasn't sure if she shouldn't be doing, at the very least, a bit more.

Yesterday she went to a Women's Only session at the hospital with a physiotherapist to learn about protecting her back and exercise.  Apart from sitting in a class for a few minutes full of Spanish speakers, then finding her correct class a little later, everything went really well.  But with the stories she kept coming out with every now and again last night I'm quite glad it was women's only. Wow.  

She was told at this class that she shouldn't be doing too much more exercise than pregnancy yoga.  And although it might 'seem to be too easy' it will really help during labour and is good for her baby's growth.  She now feels reassured.

 

Heads, shoulders, knees and Elbow

As a bit of a fan of indy and alternative music it's great that at the time I am about to become a father some of the artists I have on my I-pod are penning children's music. After Kimya Dawson's recordings, Elbow are to follow up their Mercury Award winning album with one aimed at the younger audience.

And I thought I was going to have to put the Beatle's Yellow Submarine on repeat to keep my youngster sweet (and my sanity up). I realise Radiohead's Kid A would just not have worked.

And apparently there are more.

More top tips

It's amazing what you pick up from people when you tell them you or your wife is expecting.

This week I've been told:

Babies might eat their own poo on the way into the world.  And a baby's first stools are called Meconium. WARNING: This link is not for the faint of heart.

It's wise to wait for contractions after the waters break at home where you're going to be more relaxed.  But don't wait too long as the womb can become poisonous after the waters break.

Erin found out that if you have heartburn during pregnancy, which she does, your baby is likely to have one of two things:

1. Lots of hair

or

2. Red hair

I'll let you know if either is true.

I was also told a top parental tip: When your child is very, very good, give them lots and lots of praise.  And if they are very, very bad, let them know in no uncertain terms that they have been very, very bad.  All the rest of the times in between should then take care of themselves.

Erin and I have realised we know a lot about pregnancy up to labor.  And we're booked in to see the hospital ward and all the right pre-natal classes. But we don't have a clue about the first few weeks after the arrival and thereafter.  

So, we're off to the library tomorrow.

End of the road

This weekend we spent it in the company of mud, tents and loud music. Oh, and a great group of friends.

We went to the End Of the Road festival in Dorset. It's a boutique festival with only 5000 capacity. The bands included Mercury Rev, Calexico, Richard Hawley and my favourite, Bon Iver - here's one of his songs. There were a few great finds throughout the weekend too in The Young Republic, The Mountain Goats and Clare and the Reasons.

One highlight was when Clare (of Clare and the Reasons) apologised for eight years of George W Bush and started singing the tune of Somewhere Over The Rainbow with one word filling all the lyrics - Obama. On leaving the tent we saw a full rainbow arched over the festival. It sent shivers down our spines.

Everyone we were with who knows I write this blog kept asking me what I was going to write about regarding babies or impending fatherhood related to the festival.

Well, here are a few a few thoughts...

There were lots of families who attended the festival. It was great to see but it looked like hard work. The rain on Friday meant even those without children were trudging around. But to do this pushing a pram? It looked tough. The wheels got caked and it looked like no fun at all.

Looking at these families made me have two related independent thoughts; our lives are going to be immensely different this time next year, but also that having a baby doesn't necessarily mean you have to forfeit things. The babies can come along to places with us, just put ear protectors on them when around loud music.

I also saw that our weekends are going to be a whole lot different. Parents were up very early taking their children to learn circus skills or make clay sculptures or watch kids' movies. This was all happening while we were having a lie in or chomping on bacon butties, chatting about the previous night's bands, and discussing who wants to see what. Our priorities are about to change somewhat.

One random chat while we were walking from one stage to another really brought home how much we didn't know about pregnancy when when first started this venture. Our friend Sarah mentioned the time when we announced that we were pregnant to her and Simon while we were in France. None of us were sure if Erin would have been able to go to the festival as she would be almost 6 months in. 'Do you remember?' Sarah giggled. 'We didn't even know if Erin would be able to walk by then.' Between the four of us we have more degrees than people, a few Masters' and post grad diplomas yet we knew nothing about pregnancy.  So much for higher education.

Anyway, Erin walked around a lot.  She was fine.

On another note about music...

Kimya Dawson Sang on the main stage on Sunday.  She's a serious artist, formerly of the Moldy Peaches, but has a children's album out called Alphabutt. She kicked off her performance with the Alphabutt song.  It's all about poo.

After this we commissioned our friends, Fred and Caroline, to sing and record some old and new nursery rhymes.  I'll let you know what they come up with.

The sign of things to come?

This morning, about half an hour before we were due to get up, Erin turned over to hold me. I didn't think much of it at first. I blinked at the alarm clock and tried to drift back off to sleep. Erin had already effortlessly done this. But I couldn't as two little jabs in my back later, then 3 blatant kicks I was mesmerized. It went on until the alarm should have gone off, had I set it. The feeling of slump and haziness at 3 this afternoon was worth the little show the bump put on this morning.

I should get used to early morning wake ups shouldn't I?

From out of nowhere

The reason why I didn't post anything about our second scan this weeekend was because Erin and I went up to Durham with Si and Sarah and stayed with Si's parents (Sorry for causing any worry Joey). 

The last time we were all together was just before we made the official announcement that Erin was pregnant. Everyone around the dinner table therefore knew before most people and that night Si's mum regaled us with a load of fun pregnancy and childhood stories about both her boys. We all shared a lot of belly laughs (even the often embarrassed Simon).

This time there was less baby talk which suited us just fine.  

There was the odd time though such as when Si was out of the room and his mum spoke about how even two children in the same family can be very different.  She said one of hers was a rebel but the other 'would even wear frilly knickers if I'd told him to'. Which, of course, she didn't. And neither did he.  We uncontrollably giggled at this but I think you had to be there as Si proved when he walked back in the kitchen.

There was another story too.

We came in from a walking tour of Durham in need of refreshment and to see what the football results were. Well, Si and I did anyway. The girls were all talking and Simon's mum was telling them about different parts of her pregnancy.  Si immediately switched off as boys are wont to do when their mothers are telling stories about them. I had one ear on the story and the other on a match summary. After hearing a 'really?' and trying to diffuse the words wonder goal from nowhere and this arm came from nowhere I asked for the story to be retold.

The context is that Erin was describing how she's feeling the baby a lot now. It's gone from feelings of waves to punchy kicks or kicky punches.  From what I can feel on the outside they are tiny taps. On the inside they are apparently not so tiny. Anyway, Erin had explained this and Si's mum went on to say that at the end of her pregnancy with Simon he literally made a full turn and 'from out of nowhere' she saw the imprint of a hand for a brief second from inside her belly.

And the kicks I can feel are impressive.

2nd scan - a guided tour

On Friday Erin and I went for our second scan. We set off early to avoid any elevator worries and got to the 8th floor with plenty to time to wait around and watch the room's tiny television in the corner which contained laser-focussed baby adverts, baby advice and one random fact.

Among the ads for Bjorn Baby carriers, Tomy Toys and Bugaboo prams we were told by some government-parental-advice-giving-body about breast feeding and diaper changing.  And the advice to dads? Not to worry too much, help around the house and give the mum-to-be as many massages as she requires.  I Will do - but I do think that was written by a woman who had just been pregnant whose husband had worried too much, hadn't helped out enough and needed a nudge in the direction to give massages.

After a while, as there was a nurse off sick, we were taken into our scan-room by our nurse, Helen.  She sat us down, chatted nicely to us, then squirted gooey stuff all over Erin’s belly.

Once the scanner got through the gooey stuff the little life inside Erin started performing on screen for us. Second scans are quite different to the first as the baby is now too big to be on screen all at once.  So, we were given a guided tour around the baby's body. We were first shown the spine where we could see each individual vertebrae, then onto the kidneys, the heart, and the head. The head had two little bumps on it. This would have been worrying if the nurse hadn't said, ‘Oh look it’s got its hands over its eyes.’

Must be shy.

Not too shy however, as it showed us everything we needed to see, which was unlike the other babies who the nurse had seen that day. But shy enough to have its legs crossed so even if we did want to know if it was a boy or girl - which we didn’t and don't - it would have been a struggle to find out.

After we’d looked at the arms then came the legs and feet.  The legs were measured then the nurse manoeuvred the scan so two little feet were revealed. It was as if they were poking out of a blanket.

At the last scan the heartbeat was the highlight for me, this time it was the feet. That and the fact that we learned that polar bears are left handed - and you thought I'd forgotten the random fact.

Boy talk

I work with a lot of women and most of my London male friends, and female friends for that matter, don't have children. So on Saturday night when we went to see a group of our friends, some with young children, I spied that it was my chance to see what men think about pregnancy and impending fatherhood.

I'm not sure I was ready for the conversation we were about to have though.

We were in the garden passing a football around (for those in the US we were kicking a round ball).  After we stopped the sport  - both doing and talking about it, and we'd made sure everyone's jobs were as mundane as everyone else's, I asked what it was like to have a little one around 24/7. 

Railton said it's something you just know you have to get used to, do get used to and end up not being able to live without. Simon agreed.  They both talked about it being the best thing they've ever done. 

They asked if we were going find out the sex of the baby, which we're not. They didn't want to either but Railton and Alison were told at their second scan.  It was because of potential difficulties but they weren't told in a very nice way. Something like you do know it's a boy don't you.

Simon then spoke about, in his words, the worst thing about the whole thing - childbirth. 

But you weren't the one who had to go through it, I thought.  I said, 'Why was this then, mate?'

He then took a deep breath and started. 'When Kirsty's waters broke I called the hospital and told them, they said we should wait for regular contractions. And here's my first bit of advice,' he said and paused, 'Wait as long as you physically think is possible to go to the hospital.  You can be relaxed at home.  When you're at the hospital you just want it over and done with.

'We waited quite a while and eventually went to hospital. Everything was going really well until right at the very end and the little one got stuck. The doctor and midwife were taking their time, being very patient, no one was panicking but I was getting very worried.  They eventually said that they were going to have to operate and that I should get some scrubs on.

'When I was ready I went to the operating theatre but they wouldn't let me in.  This was the worst period of time in my life. Ever. I don't know how long it took but it felt longer than forever. When I got in, all I saw was a huge mess and blood around Kirsty.  The little one was dragged out with a  vacuum extractor - it's pretty much a medical plunger. It was terrifying. When she had been born the next thing I saw was a big middle eastern looking doctor around Kirsty giving her stitches. I shudder at the memory.  

'The midwife and nurses were great and calmed me down by offering me a beef sandwich. Kirsty hardly remembers a thing.

'So I would advise Erin to get any and all the painkillers they are offering.  For all that pain, apart from the baby, there's no other reward.  I wouldn't be a hero.'

He then breathed again.  I don't know if he always tells that story or has been storing it up for a while but it was uttered with high octane energy.

I went in the house a bit later to order some food.  I told Erin she might not want to talk to Kirsty about her childbirth.  She said: 'I know, I've already heard.'

What's in a name?

In our search of names we've scoured lists and books, and our imaginations to think of something perfect for our little boy or girl.  We're still not going to tell you any of our choices, especially after our first lesson in pregnancy - scroll down to the bit about Erin's mum.  But here is a bit of inspiration to our eventually answer.

Top ten baby names in UK in 2007:

1 Jack      

2 Thomas

3 Oliver

4 Joshua

5 Harry

6 Charlie

7 Daniel

8 William

9 James

10 Alfie

1 Grace

2 Ruby

3 Olivia

4 Emily

5 Jessica

6 Sophie

7 Chloe

8 Lily

9 Ella

10 Amilia

Boring. Or our friends and family have snagged them already.

And in the US:

1 Jacob 

2 Michael

3 Joshua

4 Ethan

5 Matthew

6 Daniel

7 Christopher 

8 Andrew

9 Anthony

10 William 

1 Emily

2 Emma

3 Madison

4 Isabella

5 Ava

6 Abigail

7 Olivia

8 Hannah

9 Sophia

10 Samantha

As bad.

If you want to check out when names have been popular, click on this. It's very entertaining. Hours, if not more than a century, of fun, in fact. 

Here's something else from the same author, she also wrote this.  Can you think of any more names that would be great if they weren't words already?  I have a theory - and this is not for the faint of heart - that some STIs and diseases would make great posh English names if they weren't STIs or diseases.  Try shouting Clamydia or Diarrhea in a British home counties accent. It works perfectly.  And they could be shortened to Clammy and Dee, or possibly Rea.

You can also find out the meaning of names to help with inspiration.  

I'm getting carried away, I was just about to write our top ten list of names.  But Erin says no. So I won't.

Made in China

Technically the baby wasn't made in China but like most goods these days it might as well contain the country's kite mark.

For those who don't know, Erin and I met in the middle kingdom and it has had quite an effect on our relationship and friendships.

One of these friendships we hold dear to us is with Joy (Zhang Jun) our Chinese language teacher in Cardiff.  Our lessons would usually turn from getting the correct stroke order of the characters to discussions about life (mainly in English), and since we left we've kept in touch as much as we can.  

When we called Joy to tell her that we're pregnant she said she would think of a Chinese name for the child.

She must have been excited about our news as when she got off the phone she put all her attention into the task.  When we visited her the other weekend she gave us a piece of paper with a few ideas on it.  She put our Chinese names together and came up with... Ai Jie. 

It means love and understanding. Erin's part is the love and mine the understanding.  I actually didn't know my name meant understanding, which doesn't bode well does it?  That said, we love it.  It's also gender neutral.  Pity we can't find a western name.

Erin throws a few out every now and again.  But we still haven't found a solid favourite.  So we might be using the Chinese one for the first few months.  Thank you, Chinese Godmother, Joy.

Buggawhat?

I've been building up a bit of a reputation - mainly between Erin and I - for being able to spot the brand of a pushchair.  It may be sad but I know the difference between a Bugaboo Bee, Cameleon, and Gecko.

Easy.

And why people would go for a Mamas and Papas Joolz,  Skate or Ziko Herbie.

Sometimes I think a Quinny Buzz 3 is a Bugaboo Bee. But more often than not I get it right.

So I apologise to the parents in London who have been stared at while you're rushing through Oxford Street, having lunch in Barkingside or lazing around on a Sunday in Battersea Park.  It was me trying to figure out what makes each brand unique. 

And Erin now stops me when I start banging on about prams and each ones merit if we're in company so I don't bore them half to death. 

But yesterday at our farmer's market breakfast we saw two - one ofter the other - Phil and Ted's Sports Buggies.  This is the first time I'd noticed them.  After this though, everyone seemed to have them, especially if they had two children.  The youngest was usually in the underneath section asleep.

Anyway, when we came back from our afternoon stroll we stopped off to visit Mamas and Papas and Erin joined me in the hunt for the right buggy.  She doesn't like my early frontrunner .  She thinks they are too big.  I did originally think it was a little heavy when I checked it out but still liked the look and feel of it - like many Americans do with SUVs, I suppose.  After she was prammed-out and we were looking at baby clothes we saw a mother pushing her newborn in a Bugaboo Bee. I'd dismissed these as a kind of Porsche of prams - looks good but overpriced. But up close it seemed all the compact-pushy-thing you'd want for urban living, with attachments for off-roading.  So if we spot one on ebay we may well get one.

Which brings me to yesterday evening when we got home. Erin hopped on the internet to see what prams were in cyberspace.  She saw a black Quinny which had hardly been used going for 400 pounds less than in the shops with three minutes to go on the countdown.  It took us a minute to decide if it would be good for us, making sure it could fit a car seat - Maxi Cosi do Quinnys'.  And a carry cot? Yes. So, we decided to go for it.  Unfortunately we entered the wrong Paypal account - you can't use an American one in the UK.  So we missed out but at least we know the strollers, prams and buggies which are on the streets and in the stores can be bought at a reasonable price if you shop around.

And I know I haven't mentioned Silver Cross.  Or Maclaren yet.  There are too many.

And don't get me started on the running ones.

A walk in the park

I attained my weekend blog goal today.  Erin's sister, Robyn, wanted me to take a photo so she can see Erin's pregnancy progress.

One of our friends, Sarah, stayed with us on Friday night and as we caught up on Saturday morning I noticed Erin across the room and saw, for the first time, signs of a spurt in growth of her bump.  My initial thoughts turned to how a little life was actually in there.  It took me a few moments to get back into the conversation Erin and Sarah had ploughed on ahead with.

In the afternoon we went to Hampstead Heath for a little stroll.  After a lovely romantic walk, slightly spoiled by taking the above photos, we found a spot to lie down and started people watching while munching on our picnic, which we'd bought at our local farmer's market. We wondered whether some couples were on a first date, hoped that others weren't; Watched bright young things flinging frisbees, playing badminton and walking their dogs;  and spotted lots of young couples with their babies and toddlers.  We are noticing that there are a lot more of these families out there than before we got pregnant.

Erin took a turn in relaxation by lying down with her head on my belly.  I was immediately struck with a slight pang of jealousy realising that I wouldn't be able to lie with my head on hers for a while. I said this but then had an idea to see if I could check out whether I could hear what was going on inside Erin.  

It was incredible.  I listened hoping I'd catch at least a quelch but then closed my eyes and was taken to another world. 

There was an initial gurgling movement then what seemed to be all sorts of bubbly activity. I was mumbling about my amazement to Erin only for her to giggle - stopping me hearing anything - and ask, 'What's it's first words then? Is it saying Mama or Dada?.'  I was undeterred. The image of the scan came to me, when the UV turned the gel into dramatic awe inspiring life. I was imagining what was going on with the baby, kicking and stretching or moving around to get comfortable as it was wondering why it's little home was being invaded by a head and ear shape.  My mind took me to the vision of life which had been created and was growing, literally underneath me.  

After this I turned to Erin and told her what I'd just experienced.  She wasn't as excited as I was. 'Hold on,' she said, 'turn over and let me do the same to you.'  Sure enough she described the same gurgling and bubbly sounds I'd experienced.  

Imagination is a wonderful thing.  Either that or I could be about to make history.  And I do look a little further gone. 

Picture perfect...or not

Erin's sister, Robyn, has been bugging me to put a recent picture of Erin up.  Here's one from the wedding we were at last week.

Sorry it's got me in it too.  And doesn't show what people want to see from a pregnant woman. I promise to take more of Erin this weekend.