Third Trimester

Looks like we made it. Look how far we’ve come my baby.

Ah, the wise words of Shania Twain. Nauseating singers aside, we really have made it to the last stop before birth. And what a journey its been.

It feels as if time is beginning to accelerate beyond my control. The list of things we need to buy and do gets longer, not shorter. Suddenly the vast ocean of time that was ‘the rest of this pregnancy’ is reduced to a trickle that could stop at any moment.

We have been after the “I Love My Bear” range of furniture from Toys ‘R Us for some time but it’s always out of stock. We have phoned every store in a one hundred mile radius to be told pretty much the same thing “We’re expecting stock at the end of November” then “We’re expecting stock at the beginning of December” then “We may be getting a few units mid-December but they are already sold”.

We finally admitted defeat Saturday after a trip to Kiddicare forced the realisation that a 4-8 week delivery period would, on the outside, only leave us five weeks before our estimated due date. Five weeks. Five short weeks.

We ordered the “Kidsmill” Susannah range there and then. It’s a beautiful set of matching furniture that should last for years. It comes from Holland and they assemble it for you when it’s delivered.

I finally got around the painting out our middle room. That’s no mean feat when it’s stuffed with objects that can’t fit anywhere else. We have the carpet fitters due this coming Friday to finish it off so we can finally move our office in. It feels like the whole house is in disarray. The garden is full of black backs and old furniture, the hallways are stuffed with Christmas presents for family members. The middle room is full of my weight training equipment, clothes and decorating paraphernalia. The office is literally half full of binbags containing god-knows-what.

Our unborn child is like a tiny pebble in a pond. The ripples have affected the entire house and our lives. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Instincts

On Saturday night, Debbie and I went to the Christmas lights switch on in our city centre. It’s something we do each year with Debbie’s sister and her children.

This event is held in what is called Cathedral Square. Unsurprisingly called because it’s a square outside the Cathedral walls flanked by shops and the local shopping centre It’s usually a busy event made worse this year by an ice-rink taking up valuable space which forced the crowd back further towards the shops.

At one point Debbie and I decided to go for a walk. We were waiting for her sister and Debbie is starting to suffer with pelvic pain and walking sometimes eases that. We got through the crowd easily and reached the shopping centre before learning that her sister had arrived and was waiting for us the other side of the crowd with a good view of the stage.

We made our way back and noticed the crowd was much thicker as it was nearing the time for the main attraction. We began to make our way through. I decided to go first and try and clear a path for Debbie, who had hold of my hand behind me. Unfortunately, several hundred other people  had the same idea and were attempting to cross from all directions. It quickly descended into a nightmarish scrum with everyone vying for an inch of movement. As we paused to decide which way to go a few people literally pushed us aside to get past. We made progress and  I turned to check on Debbie and there was a man between us. I must have shot him a murderous stare when I noticed he was beginning to impinge on Debbie’s space; literally crushing her. He told me “You’ve gotta shove to get through, ain’t you?” as way of explanation.

In response, I found myself saying, rather loudly: “Do you mind?! You’re pushing my pregnant wife!”. I decided to gloss over the fact that we’re not actually married. I deduced that the vagaries of our relationship could be excused in exchange for clarity.

“What? She’s pushing me!” came the incredulous response.

Now, I admit that Debbie herself sometimes misjudges where she ends and bumps me now and again. However, I find it impossible to believe that she is now using our unborn child as a weapon to annoy fellow revelers.

I think I berated him further before he slipped into the crowd.

I honestly don’t know who is more surprised. He for finding himself being shouted at by a six foot nutter with a pregnant wife, of me, for turning into a six foot nutter to protect my pregnant wife.

Either way, Debbie later told me that she considered throwing herself to the floor out of sheer embarrassment.

My best foot forward

We had another babybond scan on Monday.

It’s getting hard to make excuses for our sonogram addiction, so I won’t. We love seeing our little baby and each time we feel a little bit closer to ‘flump’ and even more amazed that we actually created this tiny little life.

This time was even more amazing as we got to see so much more detail. We saw our baby’s nose and eyelids and her lips. Her profile is so cute that I never want to forget just how beautiful it looked the first time I saw it.

The sonographer showed us her heart, stomach and liver all working properly. We also saw her spine and her diaphragm. It’s all where it should be and even though we’ve had our 20 week scan, it’s reassuring to see it again in so much detail.

About half way into the scan as the sonographer was checking Flump’s feet she paused and said “Ok, which one of you has got a gap between your big toe and the rest of your toes?”. I grinned like an idiot and Debbie threw me a look that could not only kill, but it would resurrect just to kill again.

It’s worth mentioning here that Debbie hates my feet. I mean, she really hates them. I have a small gap between my big toe and the rest of my toes. My toe nails have a gratuitously arrogant curve to them. Debbie likes to call them ‘claws’. I think they are fine as far as feet go, but I’m no foot connoisseur.

On screen we can see the frozen image of our beautiful baby’s foot. It looks exactly like mine. I am filled with pride. My DNA has been passed on, cloven hooves and all. For a moment I am filled with the full realisation that we’re not looking at a baby on a screen, we’re looking at our baby.

This feeling grows as we see her nose and her lips. I can’t help but to wonder who she takes after. For a few seconds I see her completely. My mind filling in the gaps from the grainy image. It takes my breath away and it makes me want her even more. I swallow a rising lump in my throat.

All too soon it’s over. We get to take away the DVD; a hard copy as back-up for the beauty in my memory.

I am stunned. We are having a baby. Our baby. We created a life. Ours will never be the same again. I am excited and the warmth within extends to my fingertips.

Each time I look down and see my feet, I can’t help but to smile.

You can see both the unedited version of the scan and a little edited version set to some music. Debbie isn’t a fan of the song, but I really love it. I don’t find it miserable or depressing but rather uplifting and ethereal; a perfect companion to the image it supports.

In Utero Entertainment

An interesting thing happened the other night.

Debbie’s stomach moved without her involvement. And then it moved again.

Little Flump is already strong enough to have her kicks be noted from the outside which we’re both amazed at. It doesn’t seem that long ago that we were starting at a 6 week old dot on a monitor when we had our first scan and now there’s a tiny human kicking and punching her mother’s uterus.

Even better, we are starting to play a game. We wait for Flump to kick or punch and then we dig in gently where she hit. A few seconds later she rewards us with another kick. It’s like our first real communication with her. She rapidly bores of the game and Debbie’s stomach is still once more.

Sequestered in her amniotic world, she has no idea the joy she brings to us with these simple acts.

Twenty Week Scan and Our First Purchases

The pregnancy highs and lows continue.

The day before our twenty week anomaly scan, Debbie had some more minor spotting. Although it was brown which indicates old blood it was still a worry. This put a real dampener on what was going to be a fairly enjoyable experience. The combined worry of discovering an abnormality and the spotting made Friday morning extremely intense.

We arrived early at the maternity unit to ensure we got a parking space. Anyone who knows the extremely limited parking facilities at both the PDH and the Maternity Unit will understand. This gave us about 30 minutes to wait in the car.

We eventually made our way into the building and into the waiting room. The oppressively dark blue walls doing little to lighten our mood. Thankfully it wasn’t too long until we were called into the ultrasound room.

It was the same room as our twelve week scan but with a different sonographer. She was pleasant enough if not a little quiet. Little Flump appeared very quickly on the screen as we told her about the recent spotting. She checked the placenta; fine and nicely attached to the anterior wall of the uterus. No bleeding from there.

Her hands moved quickly over her keyboard as she slid the probe across Debbie’s exposed abdomen. Legs, two of. Arms, two of. Ten fingers, ten toes. Head measured, chest measured, femur measured. Nothing spoken, just the hum from the computer and the clicking of keys as the mouse cursor expertly gestured over the hazy black and white image of our child.

Heart. Four chambers. Beating rhythmically. My breath held as I awaited a verdict. Flipping between a colour enhanced view and the standard view. My layman eyes unable to decipher the hidden message. Back and forth. Panic beginning to rise. What has she seen? A hole in the heart? An undeveloped chamber? Blood flowing the wrong way. Back and forth once more. A spoken mumble, the cursor moves on. I find myself saying “Is the heart OK?” dumbly; “Oh yes, it’s fine” is the reply.

An almost audible sigh of relief and I’m not sure if it’s mine or Debbies. She shows us Flump’s crossed legs and says something about having nice big feet and hands. I say “It sounds like we’re having a Hobbit”. The sonographer laughs and then coos an ‘aw’. The note hanging in the air as it’s punctuated by a tut from Debbie. Flump responds by throwing her hands to her face as if crying. I apologise to my unborn child for being the first to upset her.

A few moments later and we’re handed three scan pictures and shown the door. We’re both relieved that everything is fine and Flump is perfectly developed. Though the relief is tangible, there still hangs the sour note from the slight spotting.

As promised, we embarked on our first shopping trip. I’ll cover this in more detail in a later blog entry where I’ll detail our nursery scheme choices and purchases in more detail. Suffice to say, like a starving man given food, we gorged on baby clothes. After spending so long walking past the baby sections in supermarkets and stores, it was a visceral shock just taking in the huge array of items. Their logos and slogans shouting their promises for attention. Underhand marketing tricks like vests with “I love my daddy” and “I love my mummy” were scoffed at before thrown into our trolley.

With a car boot full of clothes it finally feels like we’re having a baby. And it’s the best feeling in the world.

Alive and Kicking

What a twenty weeks it’s been. I can’t believe that we’re already halfway through this pregnancy. We have our NHS twenty week ‘anomaly’ scan booked for this Friday and we’re looking forward to it, nervously. We have no reason to believe that they will find anything wrong but it’s still a very significant scan.

We’re planning to go straight from the Maternity Unit to a baby store to make our first ‘Flump’ purchase. We made a pact that we would wait until after our twenty week scan before we started our purchases and we’ve stuck to it.

The floodgates are sure to open once we do start making purchases. The list of things we need is almost endless. Not to mention we need to clear out our ‘middle’ room (who knows where we’ll put the stuff) and sell my mini-gym so that we can get it decorated and some new carpet put down as the ‘middle’ room will become our office. Then, we can get started on the nursery.

It finally feels like we’re “properly” pregnant now.

Debbie is starting to show very nicely. I joke each night that the bump seems to be getting bigger day by day. I enjoy rubbing in her bio-oil each night and generally try to sneak a feel as much as possible. I love it.

She has been feeling little movements for a few weeks that have been gradually getting stronger and stronger but until this morning I wasn’t able to feel anything.
Fortuitously today was one of the mornings that I don’t get up early to fit in the treadmill. Debbie mentioned that her stomach felt hard as it often does in the morning so I placed my hand on her to feel for myself. I lay there for a moment and I felt a tiny movement and then a few beats later a much stronger movement; almost like she hiccuped or tensed up her abs and relaxed very quickly. I looked up and said “Was that you?” to which she replied: “No, did you feel that?” as she had felt the movement from inside. We were both very excited and it was a really memorable moment. I’m going to spend the rest of the week with my hand glued to her; or force feed her chocolate to get Flump jumping around.

Each day just gets better and better.

The secret fears of fatherhood

With twenty weeks, the half way point, in sight I find my thoughts filled with how we’ll adjust to life with a newborn.

I’ve had almost twenty weeks to think about this but it becomes more and more real each day. Indenti-kit images of a grinning gurgling baby staring up at me are being replaced with the impending reality. While we’re out shopping I take a sly glance at baby clothes and try to imagine them in the context of our lives; filled with our grinning gurgling baby and then spinning in the washing machine. It still seems amazing that we’re going to have a baby. This simple truth still makes an emotional impact when considered.

I have secret fears. I won’t even get into the fear of feeling nothing when our newborn is presented to us in the delivery room, that’s just a ridiculous thought, isn’t it? It’s obvious to anyone that a newborn is a lot of work especially as we’ll be training on the job. Nights broken with the piercing cries of a newborn and mountains of dirty nappies. Chores of love, but chores nonetheless. Unconditional love is strong, but will I feel the same when I look down and her face is twisted from an hours screaming?

Overly dramatic philosophy aside, it feels good to be at twenty weeks. Once we’ve had our anomaly scan we’re going to start our shopping. Although that in itself is a huge and daunting task. There’s a lot of buy and prepare in readiness for a new life. I’m really looking forward to it.

First, we need to clear out our ’spare’ room and get it painted and carpeted so we can move the office, and then make the office a nursery. Anyone good with a paintbrush?

We’re going to have a baby. We’re really going to have a baby.

Flump’s First Film

We recently discovered that our local Babybond (and most likely others nationwide) have the ability to record the 2D scanning session onto DVD. This isn’t a service they advertise but we wondered if they could do it as they record the 4D scans. A quick phone call confirmed they could so we made an appointment.

I can’t articulate effectively just how amazing it is to see your growing but yet unborn child wriggle and play. The cold logic of knowing that your partner is pregnant does not correlate to the miracle that grows a little every day inside her. It’s like you have these images in your head of pregnancy: fetus, birth and newborn learned from books and from others. It’s only now they are being coloured with emotion and they take on a whole new meaning.

The word “fetus” is now enhanced by the memory of these scans. It’s no longer just a word or a meaningless image.

I’ve heard a few times that literally just before a child is born the parents finally realise they are going to be parents. I can believe that.

The DVD we took home was some 18 minutes long and had a lot of close-ups and scanner searching which didn’t make for entertaining viewing, so here are two edited down versions complete with sentimental music designed to tug the heart strings.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=TCe44Rmk5nQ

http://youtube.com/watch?v=EhHHE0gQGp8

Frankenbaby

Debbie and I fell into a discussion about what Flump may inherit from our genetic code. This conversation started because of the sonographer’s comment: “Oh, what lovely long fingers” during our recent BabyBond scan. I felt that Flump may have inherited that from me and thus sparked a discussion about what we’d like to offer our unborn child.

Nose? Mine is too big, so no. Ears? Too big, and apparently, too hairy. Teeth? Well, your bottom teeth are a bit crooked so no.

I never realised I was such a poor genetic donor. My circus-freak features aren’t fit for re-use. I put this to Debbie who tactfully told me that my upper teeth were “OK” so I assume they’d do at a push. And my “thick hair” is a suitable genetic trait to pass on.

So, Flump, if you are reading this in the future and you have a big nose with hairy ears, I can only apologise.

With any luck, you’ll take after your mother and be beautiful.

BabyBond Scan

Today we attended our BabyBond ultrasound and it was the best twenty minutes of my life.

We had our NHS 12 week scan but as we had a previous dating scan they told us they weren’t going to spend very long. And they meant it. I think we saw Flump for about two minutes and most of that was a static image before being shown the door.

We wanted a better experience and hoped that BabyBond could give it and we weren’t disappointed.

We had about twenty minutes watching Flump kick the abdominal wall, slap the placenta, suck her thumb and waving her arms and legs about. It was literally breathtaking. I want to take this memory and keep it in a box so that I can treasure it until the end of time.

The sonographer pointed out various things; “Oh, look: lovely long fingers!” I couldn’t help but to stretch out my hand and stare at my fingers. Does she inherit this from me? The reality that this tiny little life is part of me really hit home.

We saw her spine, her toes, her fingers, her nose. We saw her ribs, her belly and everything is fine; just as it should be.

She’s blissfully unaware of just how much she’s loved while she plays in her underwater home.

Her pictures can be found, here.