Week 32

Christmas!

We celebrated Christmas day– as we normally did – with family down south. Our aunty and uncle always serve up a mountain of marvellous food for the festive day, and this Christmas was no exception. With all that food there was always leftovers, which everyone normally expected me to vacuum up, even after I might have already had a second (or, er, third) helping. For some inexplicable reason, over the years I had developed a reputation for having a boundless appetite.

Not this year. Jas suddenly became the family hoover: the presence of our unborn child quietly lurking beneath the dining table had the result of still-half-filled dishes of roast potatoes being pushed in Jas’ direction for her to soak up. Maybe he was doing his Jedi mind trick again. Or maybe those dishes were moving by themselves, magnetically levitating towards Jas’ plate...

Classes

We had our first antenatal class at our local hospital. It was quite good and very interesting – the midwife was a great teacher and explained things simple enough for us all to understand, with the aid of very sad and very floppy doll. And it is interesting how the process of pregnancy removes the shyness people might normally have in that situation. Take a group of people without any experience of pregnancy and discuss with them, in intimate detail, the operation of their personal parts and you’re likely to sense some squirming and general modesty. Pregnant couples in the same situation? Nothing is particularly confronting or personal. One of the more outspoken lasses in the class demonstrated this rather graphically when she piped up and asked the midwife: “What would be the position of my baby now? I think his feet are down here because I can feel it kicking my vagina”. Precious.

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 30

Ten weeks to go! I’m quite looking forward to meeting the little person, to look into his eyes rather than prod his head/back/butt through Jas’ straining skin. We started asking ourselves questions more regularly: What will we have? What will the baby look like? What will he grow up to be? A sportsperson? An linguist? A truck-driver? How long should we breastfeed? I mean, how long should Jas breastfeed? Should we discipline our child with the wooden spoon like our parents did?  

Jas: “What do you think about circumcision?” Ask a man what he thinks about surgically removing a portion of a penis, and he is unlikely going to be able to think clearly about the pros and cons. I crossed my legs, winced a little, and said, “Er, not much....” If we have a little man popping out, I’m going to have to provide a more eloquent answer. What are the pros and cons? Does circumcision affect the baby at all? What do people do these days? What do hospitals do with all those foreskins? And do the Peruvians bury it with the placenta? *

We liked to think that the little one was responding to his external surroundings. When I spoke near the belly, internal prodding would begin, as though he wanted to get out and find where my voice was coming from. It was the same when other familiar voices spoke nearby: there would be renewed wriggling when he heard well-known tones. One day on the train Jas and bub were quietly sitting, until a baby on the train starting screaming. Immediately, blueberry started wriggling about, as if in response to the crying baby, as if he could sense another little one near and wanted to get out and help. Or play!

*Week 24

Week 29

Flying

One great thing about pregnancy: flying. On Easyjet, the Airline of Unallocated Seats (or AnUS), being pregnant avoids the mad scramble onto the plane to try and get seats together! On our weekend trip to Berlin, Jas flashed her bump at check-in, and out came the red carpet to the front seats on the plane. Marvellous. Unfortunately it didn’t assist in getting the plane off the ground in time, nor did it get us free tea. But we were up front, with leg room!

On the way back to London we also managed to get priority boarding but not after all the passengers had to sit outside the gate, on the hard floor, in a hallway, for hours, while passport officers sat waiting for the go-ahead to start letting us into the gate, where there were seats. After some time of sitting on the hallway floor, I asked the kindly officers if I could have a chair for the pregnant wife, and they immediately let Jas and I through, into the gate. Lovely chaps. We then had 100 seats to ourselves!

Doctors Orders?

Jas had been making more regular visits to her chiropractor to assist with back discomfort associated with carrying the bundle of joy that filled her belly and strained her body. He regularly advised Jas on exercises to do, and what not to do, to keep herself in shape. One day Jas told me that she was told to no longer to do any kind of twisting actions, “like vacuuming”, and that she wasn’t to bend over and pick up anything, “like emptying the dishwasher”. I sensed a disturbing trend. I demanded signed instructions from the chiropractor in future.

Week 28

Copycat

We might have a blogging baby on our hands. Jas was typing on the computer, and she noticed that at one point, when she typed, our blueberry tapped. She stopped and looked at her bump, and he stopped tapping. Imagination? She pressed a few keys and stopped; he tapped again and stopped. Type, type, tap, tap. Recently, he seemed to be responding to certain noises and certain voices, but now he seemed to be joining in on what was going on the outside!

The Shopping List

We have so much to buy. Our little three-kilo person will need much of what we already have but in a tiny version. A little bed, little sheets, little clothes, a little bath. I’m also told we need a “Grobag”; I thought this was something you grow tomato seedlings in, but apparently it is a little sleeping bag for fresh-borns. Most mammals are able to walk within a few hours of childbirth; humans take a year to get around to getting on their feet, requiring their parents to obtain a little transport device or a sling to get them about. Most mammals are lucky in that they can clean their young with the aid of a large, sticky tongue; we humans require wipes, buds, cotton wool, lotions, oils, nappies, bibs and a changing table. Even though we’ll (hopefully) be self sufficient in the new-born feeding department, we’ll still need maternity pads, nipple cream, bottles, bottle sterilisers, and a milking machine breast pump. And maybe some cabbage - apparently a cabbage leaf lining the bra helps with painful breastfeeding boobs; it’ll also be handy if we come across a starving goat. What’s more, most of this equipment will need to be able to withstand copious quantities of pee, poo and puke. Do they make Teflon bibs yet?

Week 27

Islands

It’s not really a bump any more. It’s more like a boulder. It is quite obvious to all that Jas is pregnant now, even when swaddled in the winter layers that are now needed in London. And with the boulder getting heavier, we try to visit the pool once a week so Jas can get some relief from constantly supporting the weight of our large blueberry. When floating in the pool, with most of her body submerged, Jas actually looks a little like a small treeless atoll in the water; a small, steep-sided atoll with a delicate little crater at the top of it.

Big issue

Naturally Jas was becoming more and more conscious of her size. She looked gorgeous pregnant, but she was finding it hard to feel gorgeous at times moving the increasing weight about. Out walking at lunchtime one day, Jas passed a woman who was trying to sell “Big Issue” magazines in the street. As Jas approached, the lady looked Jas up and down and cried out “Big Issue for a big lady?!” Big issue indeed! The sales pitch didn’t help Jas’ delicate self-esteem: Jas gave the lady a withering look that probably curled the pages of her magazines, and she had to restrain herself from taking the magazines from the lady and forcefully inserting them elsewhere.

On the subject of reading material, it’s not uncommon for commuters on crowded trains to peer sidelong at their neighbours book or newspaper if they’ve nothing to read themselves. I often snigger to myself at what others might think if they peered over my shoulder and viewed content of some of the books I’ve been reading lately; on the subject of labour and childbirth, I’d love to see the looks on faces that spotted section titles like “Stirrups During Delivery”, “Enemas” and “Shaving the Pubic Area”.

Week 26

I’ve gone off the pregnancy reading a bit. Well, the pregnancy parts are fine, but it was just when I started reading about end of the pregnancy - the birth! - that I felt like skipping to the chapters to when the little person has left his womb without a view and everything has been cleaned up. I knew that child birth is very tough and not something you’d video and show on family film nights; I knew that the little one comes out all misshapen and covered in cheesy stuff, but there were other details I was blissfully unaware of. The physiology of it all is incredible but the fact is that it’s not just cheesy stuff and placenta that accompanies the child on its short uncomfortable journey to meet us. I won’t go into details. I think I’ll actually try and forget some of the details and leave them to the midwife when the time comes. Like many things in life, the most rewarding experiences are associated with difficult and uncomfortable moments; a bit like eating prawns, to enjoy the delicious little morsels you have the effort of shelling and of cleaning up a sticky mess.

For those expectant folk who are completely comfortable with the whole childbirth process and the by-products of it, a (very) alternative cookbook I was perusing provided a recipe for “Placenta Pate”, which included garlic and bacon. Oh, yum.

Baby smells

I wondered if I could hear our blueberry, perhaps with some swishing or hiccupping noises. Placing my ear on the bump, I heard...nothing at all. But I could smell him! Amazingly, at that point, Jas’ belly smelt like baby. He was somehow propagating that unmistakable pleasant milky odour to the outside world.

We visited friends for lunch, and Jonty – their delightful spoodle (Cocker Spaniel/poodle cross) - did something similar to me: he approached the bump, curious, and had a lingering sniff. He looked like he could definitely sense something, perhaps he smelt the baby smell, or perhaps could detect much more. (Or perhaps Jas spilt some of the delicious lunch onto her top; her belly was getting very good at catching bits that didn’t make their intended destination!) Interestingly, Jonty was very cautious, and didn’t jump up and sit on Jas’ belly and say hello as he commonly did. Respect to the bump. Jonty then moved over to me, leapt up and unceremoniously planted himself in my lap.