Littlest - you're thirty weeks old today and I'm in shock.
Only another ten (or eleven) weeks to go. Just a few seconds ago it seemed like forever until we'd get to meet you and now it seems quite close.
You're getting very large now and are beginning to be quite cramped. You're also beginning to lose all the lanugo and you can move in time to music. You are beginning to react to light. I wonder when I write at night if you move towards, or away from, the glow of the laptop screen?
You're very much settled in a solid lump on my right side. I think the big rounding just below my ribs is your rump, and the movements I feel down below are your exploring hands.
After a stressful week we've fled our home surrounded by burning coal mines, to your nana and grandpa's in the city.
The sky here is high and blue, their garden richly green and shady. It's such a relief to be away from the smoke, ash and parched land of home. To wander in the garden, to stroll down to the shops, to breath deeply.
I feel a little foolish - the moment we decided to just pack up and leave the air quality in our home town improved almost two hundred percent! For the first time in nearly two weeks we could see the stars.
However, our decision was brought about by a Country Fire Association warning saying that high risk people (children, pregnant women and the elderly and the ill) should try to take a break from the area, and as the wind could change direction again at any moment, I think we made the right decision. Smoke is not good for you little one, and here the air is clear.
I'm so sleepy now, as we came into the city with your daddy this morning, leaving the house when the moon and stars were still up, just before five, so he'd get to work in the city by eight am, but having all the worry taken away is more than worth the yawns.
We're missing your midwife appointment tomorrow, and I do regret not hearing your heart this week, but keeping you away from carbon monoxide does seem more important.
While stuck in the house on the weekend, kept captive by the smoke, I got your daddy to take some photos of your bump while I wore one of your nana's maternity dresses from the seventies. I love knowing that my mother wore this dress while I was growing inside, but it's not going to fit me for much longer! Your nana and my nana were both horrifically sick the whole nine months, twenty-four seven and lost weight rather than gained weight in their pregnancies. I, on the other hand, am feeling wonderful and haven't been sick since about week thirteen. I am however very hungry!
In this photo I'm sitting in a cain saucer chair -also from the seventies - in your nursery corner, that I found on e-bay, and the lovely joiners around the corner fixed for free. It's just like one from our family coast home that disintegrated. It always relaxes me and reminds me of hours spent staring out to sea.
Your brother and sister are very interested in your umbilical cord at the moment and how you receive everything you need through it - Poppet fed me blackberries and blueberries today telling me they were 'for Littlest's umbilical cord.'
Littlest, your daddy's just home from work, and your granddad's just finished putting dinner on the table so I'll be going, but it's so exciting we're three quarters of the way to meeting you.
Linking with the lovely TOI of Life of TOI and Erica of to the sea for blogger baby boom.