Before I proceed with this extremely delayed update I should warn you, particularly if this is your first visit to my little blog, that today’s entry will almost definitely disappoint.  Of course under normal circumstances I am a very funny, witty and intelligent gal ;-) yet this blog entry, I fear, shall be void of any kind of wit or intelligence or humour.



My brain is a little numb, my body a little weary, and I’m a little grouchy. I’m slipping in and out of a depressing state which cannot be cured with manicures and chocolate (which is how I know it is the real thing and not just a ‘blue’ day) and I know that generally speaking depression isn’t contagious but I didn’t want to be responsible for making any of you lovely people suicidal :-)



Still, depressed or not, I owe you an explanation and an update and that is why I’m here, laptop resting on bump, flicking between my website and the ‘contractions master’ website and furiously tapping my freshly manicured nails against the keyboard.



My child is officially late. I’m gutted and gobsmacked. I never thought I’d reach week 40 of this pregnancy, let alone find myself one day overdue already. I assumed he’d be reliable and punctual like his Daddy. Alas he’s proved himself to be fashionably (and irritatingly) late just like his Mumma. So I only have myself to blame.



I went to see the Obstetrician last week. I asked him if I was actually pregnant at all or merely suffering the symptoms of a phantom pregnancy whilst eating too many pies. He told me that I am indeed pregnant. Though I still can’t quite believe him. I mean, sure I have lots of signs of a pregnant woman, the big bump, the spontaneous wriggles inside that bump, the ankles like tree trunks, Dolly Partons cleveage etc etc. Yet I still cannot believe that I will ever be a normal human being with a brand new baby to look after.



Whilst I sit here the size of a house I am all too aware that my buddies, also due babies in June are popping left, right and centre. Photographs of fresh babies are published on Facebook on a daily basis and Birth Announcements are hitting my mail box at the speed of lightening, (kinda like that Harry Potter Scene where the owls bombard the house with letters?)



Every day I receive messages from well wishers and excited friends, asking if there has been ‘any sign of baby yet?’ And the truth is that yes, there has been lots of signs. In fact I have more signs than the sodding M25 and the Ace of Base put together. I have signs coming out of my ears (not literally, though my ears seem to be the only body part that isn’t effected with signs.)  So yes, I am blessed with lot’s of crappy, painful signs but still no actual baby. And this is what I’m finding the hardest to deal with.



On a regular basis, (though not regular enough it would seem,) I am experiencing a sensation that I have concluded feels as though some kind of big snake (I don’t know much about big snakes so forgive me,) has made me it’s victim and is crushing my bump, chest, neck and back by coiling itself tightly around me. There it stays put for about a minute or so before it gradually releases me again. This has been occurring for over a week already.  Braxton Hicks, Tightenings, Contractions? Call them what you will. All I know is they’re nasty and they’re torturing me.



To be honest I think I’d be okay if it wasn’t for the fact that my body is constantly flashing all the right signals. I’m so unbelievably frightened of the task I have ahead of me, I grow more tense and scared and anxious with every minute of every day. I know ultimately that I’m the only one that can do this and I just wanna get this show on the road. And every time the contractions come thick and fast and I start to think it’s game on someone somewhere turns it all off again.  Okay, okay the pain? Bring it on. It’s the mental torture I can’t handle.



The good news, however, is that I managed to gain permission to have this baby here at home. I appealed against the decision, threw a bit of a wobbly (I didn’t mean to, alas the benefit of having so many crazy hormones flying around mean my tantrums, which are pretty effective anyway, are even more impressive at the moment lol) I’ve signed a declaration that basically states that in the event of my death my family won’t sue the crappy NHS and hey presto! Permission granted :-)



So we’re all ready to rock and roll! The midwives have dropped off some drugs already, my pool is ready to be filled, I have towels and buckets and candles and all sorts of other stuff. My Mum is here staying with us and so is my Mother-in-Law and my gorgeous husband is eagerly awaiting his paternity leave.



So where . . . Oh where . . . Is the star of this show?? COME ON baby!!



Today I took my fourth dose of the dreaded Castor Oil, which is just evidence of my utter desperation. This time though the midwife actually recommended it. I’m suffering the effects now, the cramps and contractions are almost unbearable yet I shall not complain. Pain is good right now, (I never thought I’d say that!! Lol) Just so long as they don’t subside before Baby C makes his debut.



Please, please send me some luck, I’ll be eternally grateful.



I’ll try and write tomorrow, even if it’s just a brief update.



Steph x

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