Showing posts with label peeing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peeing. Show all posts

Week 31

Nuts

There wasn’t much space in there now. There was a time when the little one had an expanse of fluid to play in - to swim about, to bungee on his cord, to throw starfish shapes, to practice his karate kicks. Not now. He was growing, and Jas’ belly was straining with it. It was big and round, and there were no longer any soft or spongy belly bits: it was as tight as a proverbial drum. It was as though Jas had swallowed a massive macadamia nut, and it had lodged – whole – right beneath her belly button. With these space limitations, the blueberry’s movements were limited to constricted wriggling and pushing against Jas’ bones, much to her discomfort.

Being squashed up in there, his movements were becoming more obvious. Stronger. His hiccups were easy to feel now: it was a bit like a frog trying to bound its way out of a bag. His rolls and slides reminded me of how cats gleefully rub against your leg, those long slow rubs that start with their chin pressed against you, then their cheek and their neck sliding against you. Watching Jas’ bump as the baby is writhing about is reminiscent of watching someone’s eyeball move underneath their closed eyelid; it’s a bit spooky. Then there are the other rather violent movements that - rather comically – can have Jas air-borne from the shock of them, and feels rather like a salmon trying to buck its way out of a fishing net.

All this activity was enjoyable for me to experience, but more and more, the pronounced movements kept Jas awake at night. Inconveniently, he felt the need for regular nocturnal wriggling, sometimes violently so, with “WAKE UP, MUM!” type kicks. I was naturally sympathetic to Jas’ stilted sleeps, but then Jas began lying at night so that her belly pressed against my back, and the kicks started waking me up! Clearly this wasn’t on, so I asked Jas to roll over. I was not meaning to be inconsiderate, but there was no point in him waking us both up, eh?

Submerged

So what was it like in the womb? The little one could apparently hear and see and the uterus is almost transparent and filled with salty fluid. Like a little ocean. Was it like being suspended underwater, in the sea, near the shore, at night, near party boats, with the muffled noises of music, surf, and fish farts, with random flashes of light from the bobbing boats?

I googled “what is it like in the womb”. Apparently bright light can enter the uterus, and it is supposedly quite noisy “in there”, being awash with the noise of Jas’ blood and digesting food making their way about. Loud noises potentially can surprise him so much that he pees! Note to self: don’t shout so loud when Arsenal score.

Week 15

Family holiday

We had a week away in Croatia. It was our first excursion beyond the hospital for quite a while. Our concern was that we wouldn’t be able to find the right food for the journey there, but we were well prepared: our on-board luggage consisted of one bag of clothes and two bags of food. 

The water in Croatia was incredible. I swam several times a day, paddling about and playing with the fish. Jas just wanted to go into the water to float. I realised that Jas seemed to have taken on the life of our unborn child: sleeping often, eating often, peeing often and floating about, just because she could. 

Baby dream

Knowing that the first few weeks of our newborn baby’s life would mean little time for ourselves, we’d started thinking of how we’d deal with the responsibility of a new dependent and the endless tasks of feeding and cleaning up poo and puke amongst the other day to day things we had to do. One night I had dream: I was mowing the lawn, and on top of the noisy mower was attached a baby carrier, with our son in it, so I could keep an eye on him while I carried out my garden chore. He was a few weeks old, little curls of hair, snugly installed in the heavily vibrating baby holder as I was cutting the grass. At one point in the dream I thought that this was probably not a good thing for the baby: I paused, looked down at the buzzing bub, and he smiled a contended little grin, so I continued mowing. Genius idea, eh?