Littlest, we're back in our own house, our own town, and I can finally start preparing properly for your arrival.
Yesterday, the rain began to fall. Softly, steadily. The sky was grey and the rain fell and kept falling for most of the day. It was completely unforecast and welcomed with utter joy and thanksgiving.
Finally, finally, the end is in sight.
Finally, it seems like these last few horrible and unsettled weeks might soon be done with.
First heatwave, then fire, then smoke like something out of Mordor (as one newspaper reported it) but now, six weeks later, it seems we can take a deep breath, and move into Autumn.
This morning the sky is still grey and low-hanging and the air is full of moisture. That would be the fresh, clean air, which is now all in the blue and as good as Melbourne - indeed it's better than some Melbourne suburbs. Today the kids can play outside and we can get started on putting everything to rights.
I can get back into nesting mode.
Sweet one, I can finally say that you're due next month, albeit still a whole eight weeks away. However 'next month' sounds a lot closer than eight weeks. You're pushing around more, trying to stretch, and your reach is longer. I feel exploratory hands down in my pelvis, then kicks up by my ribs. You press out against one side of my stomach and then there'll be a flurry of movements on the other side. I feel the round of your rump, or occasionally the long line of a leg. You're approaching two kilograms and are about forty-two centimetres long, although very crowded and squished. And while two kilos is getting quite large... I do wonder where the other eight kilos I've put on has gone.
Actually, I try not to.
While most of the earlier niggles have gone, I am deeply regretting my lack of exercise in the early months (if you discount running to the bathroom) as everything aches. Three am sees me rising from bed, unable to sleep for aching hips. All night I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable. (By which I mean slowly, cumberously, painfully ease over from side to side.) These last weeks I've been able to check the air quality almost every hour, (2am, 3am, 4am) now that seems un-necessary I'm waddling stiffly through to the couch to read for a few hours instead.
'Ooof' and 'Aaaaf' are the most common sounds I make, especially as I try to rise from our futon bed or out of an arm chair. It is most definitely time to get the heat packs out and start making frequent trips to the pool.
Poppet said this morning that she needed to make way for 'the big mummy', and yesterday she said she wasn't listening to any 'old mummy' anymore. Way to get treat privileges revoked kiddo. Littlest, I'm hoping you do not display such attitude at three and a half!
Next month Littlest, we meet you next month! (Unless you're late like your brother and sister, but you'll be my punctual baby, won't you. Please!)
Yesterday, the rain began to fall. Softly, steadily. The sky was grey and the rain fell and kept falling for most of the day. It was completely unforecast and welcomed with utter joy and thanksgiving.
Finally, finally, the end is in sight.
Finally, it seems like these last few horrible and unsettled weeks might soon be done with.
First heatwave, then fire, then smoke like something out of Mordor (as one newspaper reported it) but now, six weeks later, it seems we can take a deep breath, and move into Autumn.
This morning the sky is still grey and low-hanging and the air is full of moisture. That would be the fresh, clean air, which is now all in the blue and as good as Melbourne - indeed it's better than some Melbourne suburbs. Today the kids can play outside and we can get started on putting everything to rights.
I can get back into nesting mode.
Sweet one, I can finally say that you're due next month, albeit still a whole eight weeks away. However 'next month' sounds a lot closer than eight weeks. You're pushing around more, trying to stretch, and your reach is longer. I feel exploratory hands down in my pelvis, then kicks up by my ribs. You press out against one side of my stomach and then there'll be a flurry of movements on the other side. I feel the round of your rump, or occasionally the long line of a leg. You're approaching two kilograms and are about forty-two centimetres long, although very crowded and squished. And while two kilos is getting quite large... I do wonder where the other eight kilos I've put on has gone.
Actually, I try not to.
While most of the earlier niggles have gone, I am deeply regretting my lack of exercise in the early months (if you discount running to the bathroom) as everything aches. Three am sees me rising from bed, unable to sleep for aching hips. All night I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable. (By which I mean slowly, cumberously, painfully ease over from side to side.) These last weeks I've been able to check the air quality almost every hour, (2am, 3am, 4am) now that seems un-necessary I'm waddling stiffly through to the couch to read for a few hours instead.
'Ooof' and 'Aaaaf' are the most common sounds I make, especially as I try to rise from our futon bed or out of an arm chair. It is most definitely time to get the heat packs out and start making frequent trips to the pool.
Poppet said this morning that she needed to make way for 'the big mummy', and yesterday she said she wasn't listening to any 'old mummy' anymore. Way to get treat privileges revoked kiddo. Littlest, I'm hoping you do not display such attitude at three and a half!
Next month Littlest, we meet you next month! (Unless you're late like your brother and sister, but you'll be my punctual baby, won't you. Please!)
Our parenting does begin with making a space for this new person in our imaginations. I love the way you do this as your side of the dialogue with littlest - the other side supplied by kicks and turns! Jean
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