6 weeks left… Where did the other 30 odd weeks go?
Just when you think there is loads of time left to get the house sorted, buy everything you need, get all of the time consuming jobs out of the way to free up more ‘baby time’ and to prepare yourself for sleepless nights and nappies… BANG… 6 weeks left.
Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to hold our little bundle, to see what/who he looks like and to be able to take some of the burden off of my very pregnant wife but are we really prepared for this major life change? We are going to be a family of 5 and sometimes 7 when the ‘adult children’ come to stay. I am going to be the father of five children – FIVE… OMG !!
OK, this can’t be that hard, right? I mean chances are that we will get a fantastically well behaved baby that will sleep all night, gurgle and coo all day and even likes to come fishing with me and the boys. Then again, he may be like his mother whose brain never sleeps and who wants to be active 24 hours a day (like her, he may be a little allergic to mornings and then wide awake at night when the rest of us want to sleep).
I know that Kirsten will be glad to see him on the outside, not only to see him safely into the world but as she has put it on more than one occasion “to get this puppy out so I can be the sole occupant of my body!” I don’t envy her journey to this point what with things sticking out where they really shouldn’t and the 7.5 trips to the toilet every hour (the .5’s are false alarms). We can barely get through an episode of Eastenders without having to pause it at least 3 times for wee breaks. I have also been astonished at how powerful hormones are – I mean just last night, in the same breath she told me she felt like crying, then cried, then laughed because she didn’t know why she was crying and then cried again when I laughed.
I know that Kirsten won’t mind me telling you that although pleased with her new bra size, she is not so pleased with her new waist size and downright paranoid that her body will never be the same again. It is difficult to explain to someone who does not feel very attractive in themselves that you find them every bit as attractive and on occasion more attractive because of the miracle of what is going on with their body. I think that pregnancy makes a woman about as attractive as they can be, she is living with changes in her body, feeling more tired, hot flushes, a 14 week migraine at the start of the pregnancy and the other not so nice things that come with being pregnant and she is doing all this for us and for our baby. If that does not make you more attractive darling, nothing will.
We are blessed with what we have, where we live, our health and our happiness and although some may think it a little crazy to be having a baby at this stage of our lives, it is simply another blessing that we can bring another life into this world.
Roll on 6 weeks……
I love you darling xxx
The word “waddling” says it all. That’s the beauty of the English language: words don’t only sound exactly like their meaning, they almost taste of it too. To “waddle” means to “walk with short steps and the weight tilting from one foot to another” according to the dictionary. But who needs a dictionary? Just say w-a-d-d-l-e slowly….I’m Waddling.
I am catching myself out, sighing when I get up or plunge into a chair, groaning when rolling over in bed when my muscles are all stiff… And then from time to time, when I am tired and everything just feels extra heavy, I think I have noticed that I “walk with short steps, weight tilting from side to side”. Please God, let it not be true, don’t tell me that I am w-a-d-d-l-i-n-g!! Imagine if the boys noticed. I have already been called “fat” and “a camel”, they have teased me looking for their ball which they then pretended was underneath my T-shirt and my belly has been described as a kiwi, because “it has tiny hairs on it” according to my son! The waddling thing would be a step too far!
When I entered the school to drop the boys off this week, one of the mums said (loud and jokingly), “ooohh, your walk has changed!”. Nooo! I do not waddle! I was trying to keep up with the boys who ran ahead of me. Or do I actually do it?!
I now take the greatest care NOT to waddle. I recall all the postural advice I have given people in the past, I walk with my spine straight, my chin tucked in and evenly distributing the weight on each foot. Between that and remembering my pelvic floor, my tummy muscles and not to lie on my back, I am just about managing living in a body that is mostly alien to me. It’s actually not my body, it’s the host, the airport for a new life. Perhaps, looking at it like that, waddling is just one of those side effects of carrying a small miracle, like rolling over in an attempt to get out of the bath or simply asking my husband to tie my laces because trying to be independent is just too tiring sometimes.