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.

 

A visit to the doctor

Things are never easy when visiting our NHS clinic. Erin and I were greeted by a very friendly doctor saying: 'So what seems to be the matter today?'

When Erin told him 'nothing' and that we were booked in for our pre-natal check-up with him he looked bemused and told us that he doesn't do that. He said he did post-natal but nothing before the birth.

We haven't seen our personal midwife, only temporary ones as ours has always been off. This mix up seems to have come from the temp, who not knowing our clinic, booked us in with the doctor who Erin last saw. Unfortunatley it doesn't work like this.

Anyway, Dr Castro - no relation - said he could take Erin's blood pressure and check what needed to be checked and would tell the doctor we should have seen the results 'to make sure he got everything right'.

So he did.

Erin's blood pressure is normal, the baby seems to be growing correctly - 25.2 cm for a 25 week pregnancy is normal, and we heard the traction engine heartbeat of the little one - 145 beats per minute. I shut my eyes and could imagine him stretching and kicking and generally showing off as he knew he was in the spotlight.

Erin's had a cold recently so we asked what she could take for it. The doctor was adamant she should only take paracetemol or herbal remedies. No strepsils or Hall's I'm afraid.

As she has had a bit (well, alot) of heartburn, Erin asked if the amount of Gaviscon she's taking is healthy. It is.

And she asked if she could fly in the next few weeks as she might need to take a trip home. He said the airline might need a letter but that letter would be easy to write as she's in perfect health.

At the end I went back to the heartburn issue. We've been told that as Erin has heartburn it's an indicator of the baby having either a lot of hair or red hair. I asked if he'd heard of this. He laughed: 'No I've never heard of this.' He went on to explain what heartburn was and ended by giggling 'come back and tell me if it is true, though'.

The first baby shower

Last Thursday Erin's work colleagues threw her and another girl in the office, who's preggers, a babyshower.

She sent me excited texts when we was coming home on the bus. They played games and she ended up bringing back a lot of cute stuff.

Including:

A toy multi coloured elephant made out of recycled yarn

Baby Gap socks

A wrap around hooded towel for bath time

3 beige onesies with bears and stripes

A cloth photo album for first photos

3 sleeveless bodysuits

3 white onesies

2 white bibs

1 pair of underwear with frogs on

A hat

A snowglobe

And my favourite - a Gardenbug Foot Finder and Wrist Rattle set with ladybirds (or ladybugs) and smiley bright coloured insects to fit on the baby's wrists.  Unfortunately they don't fit mine.

Thank you Samina, Liana, Sioban, Therese, Vanja, Gail, Karina, Samsam and one year old Zachy.                                               

And thanks goes to Erin's sister, Robyn, who sent a lovely little woolen suit, a newborn one piece on the same day. As well as a little toy and stretch mark cream and face cream specifically for the lovely, glowing mum-to-be.

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?

Nappy valley

We took a trip to Wandsworth this morning.  Well, to most people it's known as Wandsworth, to others it's known as Nappy Valley.  

If you're pregnant and ever need to know you're not alone all you need to do is walk down Wandsworth High Street.  There are all sorts of mums and dads pushing their kids in their brand new strollers or dragging them along in their wellies in and out of the children's shoe shops, clothes shops, toy shops, natty odds and ends shops, and cafes. 

Or there are simply the mums-to-be going in and out the maternity wear shops.

It's an area of London simply booming because of fertility.

We were supposed to be going to Wandsworth Common for a nice stroll but didn't get past Petit Bateau, JoJo Maman Bebe, Pretty Pregnant et al. We skipped One Small Step (a childrens' shoe shop).  

We got one or two things but the prize possession is below, so people will know to stand up for Erin while travelling to work on the tube. 

It was free. A massive surprise considering the cost of everything else in the those shops.

Names: inspiration from the greats

Erin and I went to the Tate Britain last night on a date. At the entrance is a stand containing leaflets with titles which pick out certain paintings to create certain moods. There is The First Date Tour, The Greatest Hits Tour, and among others The baby Names Tour, which I'll come back to later. We chose the I Want to be Swept Off My Feet Tour and set off to see Turner's Sunset, Lannelli's Contemplation and Richard Smiths' Vista.  Unfortunately this tour was spread out  a little illogically around the gallery so we gave up and made our own way around.

Also Martin Creed Curates was on too. This saw runners running every 30 seconds down the main hall in the Tate.  Fun and weird.  And a bit dangerous too with all those airy-fairy-arty types mooching around.

Anyway here's what the guide says from The Baby Names Tour.  I'm not sure how inspiring it is...

You've examined the closing credits of your DVD collection, thumbed through countless baby names books and that precious little wide-eyed lump staring up at you is still without a name. Don't worry, your dilemma may be easily solved by following this collection.

Chances are you're overthinking it.  keeping things simple is often the way to go. For instance, walk around our gallery and you'll come across 17 overachieving Johns, and some splendid Marys. Then again, you may prefer something more exotic.  Consider the name of the artist who painted Covent Garden market, Balthazar Nebot.

Or perhaps Oriana, a young woman immortalised by Frederick Sandys.

If you're still a bit stuck, try making a choice based on matching your newborn's personality with that of a work of art.  For instance, an attention seeking child could be named after Marcus Gheeraerts II's Thomas lee, the only portrait in the gallery without trousers.

Perhaps your child is the more thoughtful type. In which case think about naming it after the bookish Sir Brooke Boothby by Joseph Wright of Derby.

If strangers stop to admire your little one , you probably have a genuinely adorable baby. In which case you may like to choose a name of someone who was also adorable, like Dame Gabriel Rossetti's Proserpine or Thomas Gainsborough's Giovanna Baccelli.

Whatever you do, don't beat yourself up about it, we have 975 works that are still untitled so we've got much the same problem.

Oriana Giovanna or Balthazar Brooke Waller anyone?

Confused?

Most of us are when first talking about pregnancy. Now a children's charity have proven it. Their website isn't bad for getting a few answers either - very happy there's a dads-to-be section.

Pregmunity

Yesterday we went to a party in Cambridge but most of us there felt old. Looking around we were all grown up, or at least getting there.  And it was a little worrying.

Our friend, Chris, turned 30 at midnight and got engaged to our friend Andrea a few weeks ago. The engagement didn't seem to affect Andrea regarding age but the party did.  Knowing that there were engaged couples, married couples, expectant couples and parent couples - and their children - turning up was a worry to her.  She didn't like that we were all becoming responsible adults. I think a few glasses of wine put pay to that though. 

Obviously Erin and I are in the 3rd category (and 2nd. Oh, and have been in the first. And, er, are soon to be in the latter).  We met some great people and had some fun chats with people in all the categories, learning a lot from the 4th.  It's quite amazing really that when your wife is pregnant, conversations are very easy. People ask how things are going - alluding to the bump - and it flows from there.  If you're talking to a couple or person who has a child it's even easier, but the questions come from you rather than the other way round.  Also, nothing is out of bounds: bodily functions, body parts, anything, literally anything.  There's definitely a pregnancy community - a pregmunity?  

We were part of this at the party with instant offers of advice, books and maternity clothes.  We took up all three offers and picked up a few things before we left Cambridge this morning, very happily - thank you Zoe and Andy.

And the advice? Here's what we learned:

Women tend not to be able to think past the birth, it's easier for men to do. 

Men: Go to the loo before the labor so you don't miss anything and you may be needed. 

St. Thomas' Hospital (ours) Pregnancy Yoga on the 8th floor is great.

Women: Make sure you really know how to relax your muscles at the birth.  It'll make everything so much easier.

When the baby comes along:

You might want to be as eco-friendly using reusable nappies but forget that at the beginning. Get the disposable ones, they'll fit better for the first 6 weeks.

The first weeks are tough, not just because of lack of sleep but the lack of response from the little one.  Once you get smiled at it's heaven. 

Baby gyms are a godsend. Get a cheap travel one so they can be stored, thrown in the corner of the lounge and got at as you wish.

Breast-feeding can be difficult, and if it doesn't work out, don't get depressed about it. Plenty of children have been brought up without it.

There's a great children's drop-in centre in Kennington - just round the corner from our house.

Life goes on, you can go out to eat when the baby comes along, just do it at lunchtime.

It's official

Erin was excited tonight as she was eating her dessert.  It wasn't the dessert but the memory of the morning: 'Someone stood up for me on the tube today.'

It's official, she must look pregnant.

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.

2nd midwife visit - a spectator sport

Today we went to see the midwife for the second time.   

We were brought in by lets-call-her Nicola who's the second substitute midwife we've seen out of two substitute midwives.  She was very nice and asked Erin how she was and caught up with the pregnancy with a few questions as well as studying Erin's records book.  She then took Erin through her blood test results which all look normal, negative or healthy - this is normal, positive and healthy.

I just smiled and nodded. It really did feel like a spectator sport.  I felt a little out of sorts in the midwife's room as, even though I'm quite an active researcher on pregnancy, try to be a hands on dad-to-be, and the midwife was professional and friendly,  it all seemed nothing to do with me.  I was a spare part.  A simple smiler and nodder.  I'm not complaining.  Erin is the one doing all the hard work.  But have any other dads-to-be reading this felt this way?

Erin's record book was filled in with the blood test results and then it was time for her to hop on the bed and get measured.  A lot of people have commented how Erin is hardly showing and that was a bit of a concern of ours before we went into the clinic.  However, when Erin was measured, she was 21 cms from the top of her bump to her pelvic bone which is a perfect measurement - it's 1 cm for every week.  

We also heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time.  The choo-choo audio from my grandad's collection of British Rail Sounds Of Train Stations vinyls were brought back to me as the baby's 158 heart-rate boomed around the room.  It was emotionally staggering. (Don't ask about the British Rail Sound Of Train Stations vinyls. They entertained a 4 year Jay but luckily didn't leave any lasting trainspotter scares.)

Erin's 21 weeks and a day now and we booked ourselves in 10 weeks ago.  Last time we took a bunch of questions which were answered easily with astounding reassurance and we left proudly bouncing all the way to the coffee shop where we reflected on what had happened. However, the 10 weeks since seeing the midwife has been a long time to dwell on other worries and another list of question were drawn up on Tuesday night.

They were nothing that hadn't been asked before so we asked them and they were answered:

The right side of Erin's bump seems to be bigger, is this normal?

Babies often start lying on the right but will move over as it gets bigger as more organs are on that side. It'll get more central.

How do you stop heartburn?

There's a natural acid build up during pregnancy.  Eat little but often and also milk before bedtime could work to reduce the acid build up.

Can we call an ambulance if we think things are going too fast on the day, especially as the waters could break in the Christmas period? 

Yes, but they prefer you not to.  If it's an emergency it's all right. Call around for taxis before the big day as some taxis don't take you when the waters have broken.

There were more but I'll save you those.

At the end, again, we walked out with an excited jump in our step.  Tomorrow's the scan.

Kick off

It's been a big weekend of sport.  The Olympics continued with Britain doing better than expected and the English Football Premier League started. Erin went up to Scotland to visit our friends Sarah and Robin and my mate JB came to London. 

John and I did the ridiculously boyish thing of setting the alarm clock for Rebecca Addlington's second gold medal chance, aimed to stay up and watch Paula Radcliffe in the marathon which started just after midnight on Saturday, and set the alarm again in the middle of the night to watch Michael Phelps' 8th gold medal race.  We let Paula down by giving up and falling asleep in the marathon but saw the live swimming.

Erin, up in Scotland, seemed to have a great time and kept texting me as such throughout.  On the way back one took me by surprise: 'I wish you could feel what I'm feeling and when I come home, maybe you will.'

When she did get home we caught up and chatted and laughed about what we'd got up to and then when it was time to relax a little she told me to do what I'd got excited but forgotten about doing earlier.

'Did you feel it?'

'No.'

'Move your hand down a little?.'

'There? And again.'

'Yes, and yes.'

I closed my eyes to imagine what was going.  A kick? Or punch? Or a stretch? Who knows? It was just incredible to think what is going on in there.  A growth of life.  Is this where the verb to describe feelings, moving, comes from? 

It was even better than the strike scored against Sunderland for Liverpool to secure their first win of the season.

A rockin' and a rollin'

'Jay, Jay, come here and calm the baby down.' This was Erin's call to me from the bedroom as she wasn't feeling too good yesterday morning and went for a little extra sleep in the morning. 

'It's a rockin' and a rollin' in there,' she said looking at me mischievously. 

She told me to talk to it so I started by saying that it shouldn't try to be Michael Phelps or Rebecca Adlington just yet and rubbed Erin's belly with soothing cream. She said that the fluttery feelings have now turned into waves of movement. We are sure we could see where her head was. I gave an extra gentle rub.

I think she's about to pop and show a lot more soon.

The little one in there just wants more space.

Should I stop?

I went for a run this afternoon. On the north bank of the Thames near Embankment I saw a couple pushing a Bugaboo Bee pram. We're interested in getting one of these and there are a few on ebay at the moment so I stopped and asked them what they thought of it. Half way through my question I lost my breath and had to repeat the question. I must have come across as a stalker. They were very nice though, saying it's the best investment they had made and that the pram is very light and great for the city. They added that they are much lighter than Cameleons. Great, it's always good to get real life opinions, not just on-line reviews. But should I stop people like that or stop stopping people like that?

The green dinosaurs

Our friends, James and Claire, stayed over at our house last night.  They went to a wedding celebration in the afternoon then came to ours in the evening.  James was parking up when Claire came in.  She gave Erin a huge hug, then it was my turn, but she rubbed my belly too saying 'this is what we should do isn't it?' I was confused, and slightly self conscious - actually, very self conscious and know that pregnant women must feel ten times worse.  Then James came in with his own usual fanfare and the hugs were given with the following belly rub; once could have been a mistake, twice was an obvious ploy.  

I looked at them both and they said: 'We know the rules. We shouldn't rub Erin's belly, we know, we've been reading the blog on the way down here. So we thought we'd treat you.'  

Thanks guys.

James had printed the whole thing out and read it to Claire in the car.  Poor Claire.  And throughout the evening I heard my words quoted back to me about Angry Pregnant, conditions, and of course, belly rubbing.

The conversation stayed with babies for a while as the celebration they had come from was, apparently, teaming with little tykes.  James had been playing with a few of the toddlers and ended halfway up a chimney 'in the search for dinosaurs'.  So did he see any? 'No, I can't, silly, we adults can't see them but the kids tell me they are green.'  

Wow.

They've just recently had the arrival of their niece, Maia.  We were shown the photos from their Facebook page and on James' phone.  She was gorgeous.  I don't know what has happened to me since finding out about our pregnancy.  (I used to think they all looked like a very tired, beaten up, Winston Churchill, but now they seem to be adorable.  I'm obviously losing it.)  James gave us an insight into the first two weeks of a baby's life: 'They don't react to you, no smiles, they are just crying and shitting machines.'

As the weekend progressed I'd love to say the conversation did too. But aside from a little Olympics, Russia/Georgia issue and general catch up, with them living very near to their god daughters, we had lots of lively debates about how to bring up children.  It was great, but it's these conversations I'm only just getting used to joining in with. It was unchartered territory until only a few months ago. 

Half way point

When I was training for my marathon, halfway through my runs, a very welcome little voice appeared in my Ipod saying half way point after which the young lady counted down the miles then meters to the end.

Well this is where we're at with Erin's pregnancy. We've had the warm up, muscles are now getting used to the exercise and Erin is in full swing, ready for the tougher more energy sapping part heading to the finish line.

She's now almost 20 weeks in and according to our emails from gurgle.com she's about to get more fluttering sensations, which Erin is talking about getting a little at the moment. These feel a little weird but worse aches and pains are apparently going to begin soon (Oh no, but this really does sound like marathon training).

The baby should now have a cream film over it called vernix. It protects him from becoming waterlogged by the amniotic fluid. Premature babies have this over them when they come out but if our little one arrives at the right time the film will have gone. The arms and legs should be in the correct proportion and he's developing a layer of fat to keep him warm. If he's a girl she is now carrying half her eggs, which will help her, eventually, make Erin a grandma - not too soon though, hopefully.

From now on we are going to shoot a video each week of Erin - reluctantly might I add - walking around to show her state of pregnancy. Some weeks I'll put it up on the blog, others I won't. At the end though, I'll thread it together and we'll have a film of Erin walking through London, different parts of England and bits of Europe, but more importantly through her pregnancy. It's got a working title of Not Quite A Walk In The Park. Here's the first...

A distant chance of naming the baby after a distant relative

Erin's dad, Bud, has just sent us an email with two name ideas for boys.

His family has a distant connection to England in the baby's great-great-grandfather who was called Orville. So he's put this name up for proposal, as well as his last name, Tyler.

Erin's brother's middle name is Tyler so we would have to ask uncle Seth if he wouldn't mind, which incidently, Erin and I have considered.  

As for Orville, who Bud did follow up saying that he should be a pilot or at least design planes. I have my concerns.  British people will know exactly what I mean when I sing - altogether now:

I wish I could fly

right upto the sky

but I can't

You can

I can't

Orville was a ventriloquist's puppet duck from a dubious comic in the 1980s. Actually, here's the song.

Tyler, maybe. But no to Orville for our child, I'm afraid.

But, I ask Bud, what about if she's a girl? 

Junior kick start*

Erin an I were in bed last night chatting about Seth's wedding when she said: 'I think I just felt the baby kick.' With a slight pause, probably to reduce my imminent over-excitement, she followed up with 'but it was probably just wind'.

She said it felt like a tiny little bubbly-air-push in the lower area of her belly. Hopefully it was a kick, maybe it was a little sucker punch. As Erin's going into her 19th week she's dues to feel something. We were only talking earlier, with a hint of worry, that she hadn't felt anything and that the pregnancy magazines and books all mention it could possibly start in week 18.

To get the baby kicking it's apparently a good idea to down a glass of cold water. We were going to do that before Erin felt it independently. I'm glad I forgot to put the water in the fridge.

*Note.  Junior kick Start was a TV favourite of young boys in the early 80s in the UK featuring a motorbike competition with lots of mud during summer holidays.