I wish I could blame my recent absence from my blog on the success of my GTBOM experiment and thus my baby’s arrival into the outside world. Alas I cannot. I am still full to the brim of baby, (growing by the minute too I might add) and this little one seemingly has no intentions on making his debut. Ever.

I’m always promising to tell the truth, the whole truth and *nothing but the truth in this blog, so despite feeling very guilty for being the bearer of such pessimistic news I feel it is my duty to inform you that the pineapple theory, on which my previous GTBOM experiment was based, has proven to be an absolute load of bollocks (for want of a better word.)

 I hate pissing on everyone’s fireworks and I so wanted the pineapple to do the trick . . . (Maybe I didn’t eat enough?! I don’t know.) I wanted to provide hope for my fellow waddling pregnant women, so I am very sorry, but do not fear, I shall keep trying :-)

As well as the constant remarks about my size and shape and the pats on the bump that I receive daily, (sometimes from complete strangers too) I am constantly asked the question, ’How long have you got to go?’  I loathe it, mainly because it is almost always followed by a comment that makes me really f’ing mad. (Note the need for the f word.) The comment in question?

‘Ah well, there’s nothing you can do about it anyway, baby will come when it’s ready.’

‘Baby will come when it’s ready??!!’ FFS. I know that these comments aren’t meant to drive me nuts (and it’s probably just my hormones that have me so riled anyway,) but this one in particular really grinds my gears. ‘Baby will come when it’s ready.’ Now call me what you will but I can’t help but think I am the parent, the birth-giver, the mother and therefore the boss. So I will decide when this baby comes out, thank you kindly.

Do I sound like a control freak?! I’m not normally. But boy does it wind me up. Even though I secretly suspect that they’re right, there is nothing I can do to determine when this baby comes, he will come when he’s ready. But you know what? Sometimes honesty isn’t always the best policy. And in my case they can save the truth, I’d much rather hear lies anyway. Gimme the old wives tales, a little light at the end of the tunnel and something to keep my mind busy and occupied whilst I play this waiting game, save your facts for someone who needs a kick when they’re down.

I have five days to go until I’m 38 weeks and therefore allowed to have my baby here at home. So I’m keeping my fingers (and legs, though that may be perhaps a little too much information for some) crossed that he will stay put until then. All experiments will officially recommence on the 4th June but until then I am trying to inject a little patience into the matter.

Whilst I am practising my patience I also have a another baby-related mission to accomplish. I need to turn him around. He’s not breech, (thank goodness) his head is indeed in the right place and ready for action, but instead of facing me, which is the optimal position for labour, he has his back to mine and all his limbs are front-facing. This, combined with my, ‘irritable uterus,’ (this is a real medical condition apparently—how typical of me to have it lol) is the main cause of all the Braxton Hicks contractions and other pains I’ve been getting.

I’ve heard I need to spend a considerable amount of time on-all-fours in order to get him to swing his little body round the right way. Alas can only think of two things that require one to be on all fours. The first is scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors, (not on your nelly mate) and the second is, well, you probably already know . . . (again, not on your nelly mate lol) ;-)



Yoga, swimming, laying on my left-hand side, swaying on my birth ball and sitting the wrong-way-round on my chair are all other activities I’m gonna try out, (of course will also welcome suggestions!)



If I can’t turn him I’m reckoning we’re in for one hell of a ride on the old labour train. It’s supposed to take double the time and be double the work giving birth to a back-to-back baby. Oh god help me . . . Perhaps I should go with the epidural after all ;-)



Wish me luck as I crawl around my house!



Love to all!



Steph x

 

TIME: 6:50pm ~ LOCATION: Lounge ~ BABY: In Tummy.

Project: 'GET THIS BABY OUTTA ME.' commences.

Am in sticky mess tucking into my fresh pineapple. Have had tightenings (prob just Braxton Hicks) for the past 5/6 hours or so, very irregular, very annoying.

Half pineapple has been scoffed. Working on the other half as I type . . .

Wish me luck!

Back in a bit! x

TIME: 7:50pm ~ LOCATION: Lounge ~ BABY: Still In Tummy

All pineapple been consumed, (except for hard bits, yuk - and the odd chunk donated very kindly by me to my darling husband, aren't I so sweet?) Felt a bit sick at first, but it's all good now. Braxton Hicks are still coming on strong and now have backache too. Will continue to time the tightenings and update as soon as! (Unless of course baby comes flying out at the speed of lightening! (Ha, I should be so lucky!) )

x

Patience may be a virtue, but unfortunately it is definitely not one which I personally possess.

I still have 5 days to go until this pregnancy is considered, ‘full term,’ and 12 days until I will be allowed to have a homebirth, (if I go into labour beforehand  I’ve been told I’ll have to go into hospital.) Trouble is waiting even one day  longer  is proving to be a challenge for my non-existent patience.

I don’t do waiting. At all. Nada. And I definitely don’t do waiting for a Man, no matter how cute and small and lovable he may be! (Lol) Every day I wake wondering whether today could be my child’s birthday? And every night I climb into bed wondering whether I’ll last through the night without going into labour?

I don’t think I’d mind waiting half as much if my body wasn’t constantly teasing me with signs of impending labour. Strong Braxton Hicks, ‘That-time-of-the-month’ feelings, cramps, backache, you get my drift . . .  

So anyway I know I said my ‘GET THIS BABY OUTTA ME,’ mission wouldn’t commence until next week, but  I figured that there really is no harm in getting cracking a little earlier than planned. :-)

In my kitchen right now is the biggest pineapple I’ve ever seen. And I’m going to scoff the lot this afternoon, in the hope that the enzyme found in fresh pineapple, (also found in the stuff they use to induce labour in hospital,) will get the ball rolling and will help turn my practise contractions into the Real McCoy. I’ve read that you’d need to eat about seven whole pineapples for the enzyme to have any real effect, but I am choosing to ignore this piece of information, after all I ate only a very small amount last time and went into labour with Lorelei just a few hours later. Don’t fret though dear blog—I plan on keeping you fully informed with a running commentary as soon as I’ve nibbled the first piece!

Baby C is most definitely welcome to make his appearance this weekend. I know it’s not likely that he’ll pay much attention to my own calendar commitments, but I’m just saying . . .  In fact it would be lovely if he arrived tomorrow (say 9am-10am-ish?!) - You see it’s his Mummy and Daddy’s first Wedding Anniversary tomorrow—and we’ve been waiting forever for this gift.  :-)

Will be back with pineapple updates as promised!

Steph x 

P.S - Those of you wondering where I've been for the last week or so? Check out the pics!

 

 

Warning: The following blog has been posted by a nutty woman with barely a brain cell in her vacant mind. The content of this post therefore could very meaningless indeed.

My social life is currently being conducted in a very 21st century manner. That is to say virtually all social interactions i am having lately have been via the wonderful world of the world wide web. My fingers are officially doing the talking and my brain is feeling a little numb today. I am so uber modern and chic ;-)

I've always been a Net junkie, (confession: I am secretly a bit of a geek too, don't be fooled by the rocks that I got - cos this diva even knows a little HTML - shocker! lol) - I usually begin my day with a cuppa (two Weetabix smothered in way too much sugar - accompanies my this whilst I am pregnant and trying to combat Morning Sickness,) and Facebook is officially my homepage and therefore the first port of call as soon as I fire up my trusty laptop in the mornings.

Lately as well as FB (and of courseTwitter, which is still fairly new to me but highly addictive nevertheless) I am also a big fan and a regular virtual visitor of a pregnancy and parenting website Babycentre.

Ordinarily I love my trips to Babycentre - they tell me all about my bod and baby and the homepage is customised to match my specific stage of pregnancy, and furthermore there is an enormous community of ladies to chat to, all of whom are expecting their bubba's in the same month as me!

It used to be that BC was a haven of serenity whereby one can ask questions on all manner of subjects and will recieve lots of advice and words of wisdom from others. We discuss highly important subjects, such as what we've had for breakfast and what we're going to have for tea and in the middle of the night, when we're up with heartburn, braxton hicks contractions or mad cravings for cheese there is always someone else online ready to offer sympathy, advice, virtual hugs or just plenty of "rotflmao"'s.

But that was then. Now it seems BC has been transported right smack bang to the middle of the set of the Jeremy Kyle show.

It's so complicated, and so frustrating. And I'm sure I don't know exactly how it all kicked off, not every single fact or anything but I do know that lots and lots of us have become victims of bitches on power trips and I'm not happy about it.

We had a troll a few weeks back, not a lovely little cute troll with whippy hair and a wrinkly face (although this description could be quite apt, i'm not entirely sure) but a mean Cyber Troll. - 'She' (or 'he' or 'it' - again cannot be sure) began posting horrible messages that left many of us vulnerable and hormonal women feeling devestated, worried, anxious and powerless - posts about how she 'was suicidal,' and 'had taken lots of pills to kill herself and her baby,' etc - I read lots of them, i genuinely believed they were true, (I was quite innocent to the crimes of Cyber Trolls) and I got quite upset by all that i read, as most of the other ladies did.

When it became apparent that we were victims of a lying freak and we tried to complain to the BC authorities we were pretty much ignored. So some of us posters decided to warn other members by subtly pointing the troll out and suddenly all hell broke loose.

The moderators and admins in control of the boards on BC decided that 'Freedom of Speech,' should be a thing of the past and they began to closely monitor everything that we were discussing. If any of us dared to mention the troll our posts were automatically deleted, without any reasons or explanations at all. Later journal posts were deleted, this of course provoked a strong reaction from us hormonal (and therefore occasinally nutty - i'm speaking for myself here) mummies-to-be - as it became apparent that we're not allowed to share our opinions on being lied to by a troll, or indeed being governed by a power-happy admin. We were allowed to discuss nipples, nappies and water works, but mention being disgruntled by missing posts or journal entires and you run the risk of having all conversations erased.

People began to wonder what was going on, but nobody could tell them, not unless you typed in some kind of code and just hoped they'd be able to translate before the admin team, and when people starting to defend each others posts, (i.e question why a post had been deleted) the admins and moderators began to get even bigger for their cyber boots and progressed to deleting peoples entire profiles. You are an opinionated link. Goodbye.

We, rebellious (and by 'rebellious' i simply mean with minds of our own,) ladies have been discussing these actions in our secret FB group where a very nasty message from one of these admins, (in which she states how 'scared she is by the thought that we will all soon be responsible for new life . . . ') was published for all to see. I bought it to the attention of the other ladies on BC and for that I sneakily suspect my own profile will be amongst those on the banned list.

Why I am allowing myself to be so frustrated by something happening in a virtual world is beyond me, yet I have been following the antics today with such intensity I feel as though I have been in court on the jury of a murder case or something.

I'm so tense and pent up with stress that my shoulders have gone stiff and my finger hurt from such violent typing, (I type very loudly and incredibly fast when I'm pissed off) -  I'm definitely in need of a massage, will need to work on powers of persuasion and bat my eye lashes later at the boy ;-)

You made it this far and for that i salute you! I shall also put you out of your misery by stating that I'm done ranting now. And breath. ;-)

I love you for listening!

Steph x

(Nutty and hormonal - yet fabulous neverthless!)

 

And the further it falls the heavier the weight plunging to the depths of my stomach. The nerves, the anxiety, the sheer fear.  

I'm going to have a baby. Oh. My. God.

Have I been in denial this whole time?? I suppose not, I mean I've been counting the days for months now (36 left) yes D Day is definitely approaching and yet it's only just dawning on me that with it comes a little parcel that'll change life forever as we know it in this household. 

I've thought a lot about how this little person is going to make his entrance. Thoughts of labour, of birthing pools, of contractions and pain relief have been permanantly occupying my brain lately. I've prepared myself for, (and indeed am looking forward to,) becomming a 'single' human being again. Being able to sleep on my tummy, having a few, much-missed, drinkies and of course wearing my high heels again, but funilly enough I think i've overlooked the very valid point that at the end of this pregnancy comes a baby.

I should be an old pro by now. Afterall I took on this very same challenge when I had my daughter at 20. Yet 5 years have passed since then, with one pregnancy ending in miscarriage at 12 weeks and another ending in total tragedy at the half-way mark, and I suppose I've just been so occupied by getting through an entire pregnancy that the thought of bringing a new baby into our world has been pushed to the back of my mind.

I should be confident, quietly assured that I've spent the past 5 years raising a bubba, so can easily do it all again. Deep down though, I'm not afraid to admit that I am, (for the purpose of emphasis) totally shitting bricks here.

I know what's coming. It's all returning to me now. Crystal clear memories of the challenges and hurdles that I'm facing. The sleepless nights. The constant crying. The painful boobs. The baby blues. There will be no 'off' button. No instructions. And I'm going to be, once again, completely responsible for a brand new life. Just Jay and I, with our little helper Lori. And together we have to make this whole thing work.

Perhaps it's a good thing that I'm being realistic about this. I mean I know it's not going to be all rosy. I'm kinda prepared, if not expecting, for it to be tough. Unlike the last time round when the harsh realities of life with a newborn sent my preconcieved fantasies of maternal bliss tumbling to the ground. 

It's far better to be realistic than to set myself up for a fall, right? Or should I be thinking in a glass is half-full manner? Maybe positivity will be key?

Ooooh heck, help me!

Can i really do this all over again? Will i cope okay? How about when Jay goes back to work and it's just me and my new creation?

I know, i know, i should have thought about all this beforehand. Preferably nine months ago. But you see losing Harry, just 6 weeks before falling pregnant with his sibling has kinda thrown me just a tad. I was supposed to have my baby at Christmas, instead i have had the worlds longest pregnancy (well almost) and I couldn't really visualise the end, until now.

Well only time will tell I suppose. Wish me lots of luck though won't you? Just in case ;-)

Steph x

I wake almost every morning to an increasingly familiar sight. Last nights clothes strewn across the floor, the sheets crumpled, the pillows laying half-way down the bed. Oh yes ladies and gents, there has indeed been a lot of action between my sheets of late, though not, I hasten to add, of the most exciting nature.  

I cannot sleep, for love, nor money at this precise moment in time. Despite sharing my slumber space with two giant pillows, two cushions propped between my legs, (to ease the backache) and a specially wedged shape foamy thing, I spend the entire night tossing and turning. I’m getting out of bed, sitting, drinking water and squirming like an irritable toddler all night long. And the main culprit for my lack of sleep has nothing to do with enormous bump. Nope. It’s my naughty legs that are at fault.

 

You see, try as I might, (and I do try) I simply cannot keep my legs still. I’m overcome with the urge to wriggle them, or kick them, or just generally keep them moving—and a lot of the time I’m not even aware that I’m doing it, it’s as though they have developed minds of their own. It would seem however, that despite the randomness of this complaint I am not alone in my suffering. In fact I’ve since learnt that up to 15% of all pregnant women develop this complaint in their third trimesters and there is even a name for this condition. It’s called, ‘Restless Leg Syndrome.’ Don’t laugh!!

 

‘Restless Leg Syndrome.’ Sounds totally made up doesn’t it?! But I shit you not, it’s up there with all the other syndromes, (‘Unable to stop shoe-shopping syndrome,’ why has that one not been invented, huh?!) And it is just another weird and wonderful delight of pregnancy. Which brings me neatly to my chosen topic of the day.

 

Today, not only in the interest of generating as much sympathy as possible from you lovely, lovely people, but also to amuse you greatly, I thought I’d share some completely bizarre and random facts that I have learnt regarding growing babies and all that pregnancy entails!

 

So here goes . . .

 

Number one: (And I’m only listing this to set the record straight for those who didn’t know.) Morning sickness lasts all day.

 

Sorry, that one wasn’t all that amusing or interesting at all was it?! I’ll try to do better with my second.

 

Number two: According to a TIME magazine article published in 1945, the longest pregnancy on record lasted for an entire 375 days (12 Months, 1 week and 3 days) - Poor, poor woman!! (Please god, don’t let this happen to us!) Amazingly the bubba in question only weighed 6lb something!

 

Number three: More babies are conceived in November and December than any other months! (Make of this what you will!)

 

Number four: Apparently (and this is really quite disgusting so I apologise if it makes you feel sick!) some pople actually drink urine from pregnant women as it helps to build better immune systems.

 

Number five: The first known contraceptive was crocodile dung, used by the Egyptians (and I’m not sure how?!) in 2000 B.C

 

Number six: During pregnancy, the average woman’s uterus expands up to five hundred times it’s normal size. (And still you cannot balance on it for fun!)

 

Number seven: Babies born in May are on average 200 grams heavier than babies born in other months.

 

Number eight: According to Chinese custom, sex during pregnancy is absolutely forbidden.

 

Any other random facts? Send em my way!

 

In the meantime I’m off to eat some ice!

 

Steph x

 

So without further ado, here's how we entertained ourselves today!

(WARNING this blog post contains images of a naked nature that some viewers may find shocking/amusing/quite tasty (delete as applicable!))

Enjoy!

 

As well as our pressie for our new bubba we also decided to truly get plastered and make even more mess! We made a cast of Lorelei's little arm . . .

Finally I managed to sweet-talk the darling husband into allowing me to make a mould of his gorgeous derriere - (I did however have to play the pregnancy card I'm afraid!)

Well out of the kindness of my heart I have decided not to be greedy and instead am going to share a few images with you! - Now don't say i never do anything for you! ;-)

(Sincerly hope Jay doesn't mind his bottom being published on the internet! Alas will worry about this later!)

Had forgotten exactly how much fun Plaster of Paris can be!

Hope you enjoyed viewing!

Hasta L'vista Babies!

Steph x

I have been a naughty girl in not posting for a few days, and for that I am very sorry.

I don't have any great excuses for my lack of entries, though i wish i could say i have been extremely busy leading my glamorous and fabulous lifestyle. Truth is I have been alternating between busying myself with shopping sprees, (which i suppose is quite glamorous and fabulous when you think about it) and battling with hormonal bouts of despair, (which is neither glamorous or fabulous.) So i guess you could say i have been a suicidal shopper of late. Neither of which have been worthy of blogging.

To satisfy your curiosity however, I'll briefly fill you in in my recent purchases. So here goes . . . I went to the shops and i bought . . .

*A travel system, (for the baby, although Daddy is so far gaining the most enjoyment from this buy, fixing it all together and wheeling it around the house on a regular basis.)

*A carseat (that fixes onto the travel system.)

*Bottles with teats shaped like boobies, (again Jay has been suitably impressed by this.)

*A breast-pump, (to remind me that in a few weeks I shall function in much the same ways as a cow, which is a plesant thought.)

*Some nipple pads and disposable pants, (in contrast to the sexy lingerie and stockings i once spent my pennies on.)

*Maternity clothes (dresses, tops & PJ's)

*Make up

*Hair Removal Cream, (because for some odd reason my body has decided it really ought to produce lots of extra hair to er keep me warm during my pregnancy(?!))

*Hair Dye (for the hair on my head!)

So you see I really have been putting the retail therapy theory to the test!

Alas retail therapy alone hasn't been enough to keep the dreaded hormones at bay. I'm on a real emotional rollercoaster at the moment, with highs and excitement and plunges of sadness and worry and I'm driving myself around the bend so goodness knows what I'm doing to those close to me, (my poor husband being a perfect example! Sorry Jay.)

I am trying to assure myself that once this baby arrives so too will my sanity. I'll be able to do normal things again, like sleep on my tummy and paint my own toes, not to mention have a wee drinky and wiggle my bum on a dancefloor. It seems an age away but we're officialy on the homestretch now, so i can't be that long.

In fact I have under three weeks until i am classed as, 'full term,' (which means little one can be born safely,) and just under four weeks until i am officially allowed to have my baby at home!

In just under six weeks I'll officially reach my due date, (though I sincerly do not intend on still being pregnant at this point,) and the absolute maximum that we can go to is just under eight weeks, by which time Bubba's tenancy will officially come to an end and the NHS will induce the labour to get this little person out.

I know that baby's and bodies can both be very stubborn and will ultimately choose the right moment to get this show on the road for themselves but this hasn't stopped me from preparing for a little project I like to call, 'GET THIS BABY OUTTA ME.'

By which i shall try and test every single method in the history of projects such as these, (and there are so many different non-medical methods for inducing labour, that women have been trying for billions of years, i should imagine.)

Project 'GET THIS BABY OUTTA ME,' or 'GTBOM' for short, shall commence on Thursday 4th June, (which see's me at 38 weeks of pregnancy and therefore 'allowed' to go into labour and have baby at home.) and I will gratefully welcome all suggestions to try, so please send them my way!

Lot's of Love

Steph x 

 

If there is one skill, and one skill only, that we 21st century women need to possess it's the ability to be decisive.
When it comes down to it, we seem to have so many major decisions thrown at us and so many options to choose from on a daily basis. More so than our ancestors ever had to deal with and many options these days are so easy to take, (so long as you have time, patience and money too that is.) 
 
For instance, instead of simply spending our lives wondering, we can choose to investigate the theory that blondes have more fun, merely by reaching for the bottle of bleach on a supermarket shelf. In fact we can indeed choose to live with barnets of practically every colour of the rainbow, should we wish.  

We can choose to don power suits and go out in pursuit of  fabulous careers, we can choose to have fabulous babies instead or we can choose to balance both!  

We can choose to marry, stay single or date forevermore without anyone really batting an eyelid, (certainly no-one from our generation anyway.)  

Yup, every single day we are faced with decisions and every single decision we make will have an impact on our lives in one way or another.  

So it's a wonder really that 5 years ago, when pregnant with my daughter, Lorelei, i didn't give the options regarding her actual arrival, the labour, much thought at all, instead, through fear and perhaps naivety the only decision i really made was to leave the decision-making up to the shambles that is also known as the NHS.   

I suppose i was under the impression that I didn't really have much control over the situation at all and that it was only passionate hippy types or high maintenance celebs who could determin how their labours would pan out. The average woman, as far as i could tell, simply went along with the norm.  

And so it was that my daughter was born in a hospital, delivered using the pain relief chosen for me by the midwife, (pethidine) and that the two of us were sent home a mere 3 hours after her arrival in order to make space for the next 'victim'. (Ooops, i mean, 'patient.')  

It wasn't a horrific ordeal, far from it, but it was the significantly painful and relatively frightening experience that i had pretty much expected it to be. And when i really think about it, really break it all down, i think in my case the whole thing could have been a damn sight easier if it hadn't of been for the restrictions and the policies at the hospital.  

Now I'd like to point out that I am by no means saying all hospital staff are rubbish, (this is definitely not the case, my midwife was fantastic, and anyone can see how hard they all work,) and I'm not saying that having a baby in hospital is a terrible decision, (many women find it works out perfectly for them!) - I am instead merely sharing my own experiences and future plans . . .  

So I have four weeks to prepare for Baby C's arrival, and whilst i am (pardon the expression,) shitting bricks at the thought of going through labour all over again, i am also strangely excited at the prospect of having my baby in the comfort of my own home.  

So what do you think? Are you shocked? Am I crazy? Or would you do it too?   Let me know, would love to hear your thoughts!  

Love to all!  

Stephie x

Last night we experienced a little drama in the Connolly household, not unusual, you might say, since Jay and I are the unofficial King & Queen of drama, (you only have to look at the events and incidents that have surrounded us in the last three years as evidence.) This time, however, the drama came indirectly from the smallest and newest member of our crew, little baby C (the bun in my oven.)

It started with shooting pains in my lower back and tightenings across my entire bump, which wasn't too alarming as i'd kinda figured the contractions were just the usual Braxton Hicks, ('practise contractions,') which tend to come and go pretty quickly at random times and without any real pain at all.

Yet when i found myself waddling around the house like a duck and unintentionally doing Darth Vader breathing impressions - with contractions coming on every five minutes or so - i begin to panic, just a tad.

Jay timed them, (using the Contractions Master website) and I got in the tub to shave my legs and wash my hair, (cannot have baby C witnessing his Mumma for the first time looking like shit now can I?!) - I then telephoned my own Mumma, (which is the first thing i do in any crisis) who decided she should head on over, just in case.

At this point in my tale i should inform you that whilst i am incredibly intuitive and quite psychic at times, (seriously, i know you won't believe me but it's true,) when it comes to my own life this psychic ability almost always fail me miserably. (It's a shame really, i bet a lot of the aforementioned drama could be avoided if only i could use, what i like to refer to as my, 'Magic Powers,' to actually benefit myself.)

Based on this you would have thought that i'd learn to put my instincts regarding my own personal life down as just cock and bull, so when my instincts tell me that baby C is going to arrive in May i really should just ignore them.

However I have yet to learn this lesson and so with strong contractions coming thick and fast i decided on this occassion my instincts were correct and that Baby C's debut would take place pretty soon.

Jay telephoned the delivery ward at the local hospital and they told me to come straight in, so Mumma, Jay, a very sleepy Lorelei and I drove to Kettering in the middle of the night in anticipation, (and pain.)

Obviously it turned out i was fine and not in labour at all, (thank god as despite wanting my bod back i'm not quite ready for my little one to arrive just yet.) - The pains and contractions can be put down to a small infection i have, (nothing to worry about, just another delightful side effect of growing a baby) and the visit just confirmed my decision to have this baby in the comfort of my own home.

I know so many people are against the idea of a homebirth, (but trust me, if you'd been in the hospital last night you'd soon be in agreement) - I'm looking forward to it, (as much as anyone can look forward to an event that involves excruciating pain that is) - I'm gonna talk to my midwife about it tomorrow and I'll be back with the next installment of my plans for a hippy-chic, mother-earth style homebirth in no time at all!

In the meantime I am off to play with my new travel system :-)