Three in the Bed

Okay - so I am on the home stretch of this pregnancy. As I said to a friend today, "it's getting a bit uncomfortable with this sub-lease of my body". I know that every day my baby is getting stronger and more and more equipped for life outside my womb. I'm not willing her to come sooner. I just wish the time would go fast. Very fast.

Sleeping is the hardest part. This little lady seems to exert her presence at every opportunity and I have a feeling she is going to be rather headstrong. It has been 12 years since I gave birth to her brother but my memory is quite acute and I swear he was nowhere near as bossy. I get whacked in the side if my position doesn't seem appropriate to her and she seems to like to party a lot in the wee hours of the morning (hope this isn't a sign of things to come when she's 16). I'm also visiting our ensuite 4 or 5 times a night. Too much information? You just wait...

Apart from the not sleeping due to movement - I'm also not sleeping due to non-movement. I am sure all expectant mothers have been there. You are constantly checking and worrying and making sure that everything is okay. To feel your little one move is reassurance and the "okay" to go to sleep. I have spent quite a few hours lying there in waiting for her to move.

Things change with pregnancy. "Relations" being one of them. I have decided to let something come between myself and my husband. A kind of threesome if you will. Yep. The bold move. I needed to do it for myself. And for him. So I stop whinging...

Relax - it's just a body pillow. A big long sausage one. But we are fighting over it. It's all fine at the beginning of the night. I wrap myself around it like a contortionist and claim ownership at sleep drop off. But on my return from one of my numerous bathroom visits or some alteration to my positioning, I find S has stolen it and is hugging that thing like it's his right and possession. It so obviously isn't. It's mine! The least I can have to reward me of carrying OUR child through these months with due care and love and patience.

I have never met another heterosexual man in my life who says he would love to be pregnant. But that's my husband. He wishes it was him! Well so he says. I scoff -of course. He doesn't know what I know. The finale is hardly beer and skittles. Childbirth is akin to a volcano ripping through your body. It is pain that you thought you knew multiplied by 1,000,000. I wish it was him - just for an hour. Just so he could know & grant some more respect - and stop stealing my pillow! He recently went through day surgery to repair a hernia. Apparently the non-painful kind. But if left could have developed into something sinister. I called it his faux pregnancy. And I was only half kidding. I think he willed it on due to his desire to be apart of it all. S is an amazing father. One of the many reasons I love him to death. But seriously - butt out. This is a woman's zone. I wish I could share it more - I really do. If men could share the burden that would be truly fantastic. But they can't.....

Women of the world unite. I remember after my last birth I said that I now had the most profound respect and love for all women of the world. It is a huge and amazing thing we do. I am glad to be a woman & I'm privileged to have this job. I kind of understand S's longing to be more a part of it. As it would be kind of humbling to just be the spectator.

Saying that - he is being a pretty good & loving supporter. I think he will make a great birth partner. I don't think I will yell or swear at him. Although who knows? Last time I was pretty zen. But I didn't have a partner with me then. And my mother didn't really deserve to be screamed at - poor love. She was pretty amazing too. Massage and general mother loving was so welcome and helpful. I think everyone should have a doula like my mother on hand at birth. I'm hoping that my sense of containment will return and I will be a centered and controlled avenue to the world for our daughter. I'm pretty relaxed about it all. Not really that scared as, at least this time I know what I'm in for.

But I'm not naive either. And I'm saying here and now that I want accolades. And presents. I want cheers and champagne and balloons and flowers & promises of pampering and beach holidays. I want it all. I know I deserve it!

The sub-lease is nearing it's term of occupancy and my body (although lets face it - somewhat altered) will be returned to me - apart from my boobs that is. Breast feeding will be the next thing. In the meantime - just give me back my pillow. I am no good at threesomes.

The Whole Work, Kid Thing....

So I’m having a tough week at work. It’s long overdue. Been a while since I just wanted to run away and escape. I’m one of those annoying people who say “I love what I do.” “It doesn’t feel like work most of the time”. “Find something you love and get paid for it” “Blah, blah, blah”…. Yep. Annoying.

But this week is testing me. People are unpredictable and as I deal with people and emotions things are going to happen from time to time that test my metal. I just don’t understand why they happen all at once? When it rains it pours, and as South-East Queensland finds itself on the brink of another flood crisis (God forbid) I find myself pondering my own inner crisis and salvation.

My salvation? Its children.. I'm acknowledging how lucky I am to have them. And to have that balance. I need them this week. I’m not complaining about juggling kids and work. I’m relishing the fact that I have them. They are a blessing and a joy. Simple compared to adults….. Most of the time.

It’s also back to school week. That week that Kleenex sales go up by 50% and wine bars are suddenly filled by 11:00am with yummy mummies relishing their regained freedom. My son has started year seven. His last year of primary school. He is very proud, being head of the school and seems (so far but only two days in mind you) to be taking his role quite seriously. I’m very proud of him. He makes my heart sing.

As I write, my step son is at my feet, playing very earnestly with his cars. His latest edition, his Lamborghini is due for a service – new wheels apparently. My husband works from home on Wednesdays and the time with him is precious and treasured. Lately he has been complimenting me no end and learning the art of charm. To be called “cool and beautiful” is pretty bloody good. Coming from a 4 year old who is notorious for speaking the truth is extra special. I am lapping it up. And of course contributing to that garage collection. Surely a matchbox Lamborghini is a small price to pay for such glowing words & boost to one’s self esteem.

I’m entering my third trimester of pregnancy next week. We are so excited and overjoyed. Already this little girl is so immensely loved. I have felt like I knew her right from the start. The day before I found out I was pregnant I spoke to her. I just knew. And knew it was her. I’ve been waiting for a long time and I kind of had the feeling she was coming. When S and I found out for sure that she was a girl I burst into tears. I looked over at S and will never forget what he said. “I’m going to be completely overwhelmed any second” and he looked just that. Happy beyond words, overwhelmed and so damn proud!

I went to the toilet and said out loud “thank you”. I hope God doesn’t mind being spoken to in a hospital toilet cubicle. I’m sure it’s not that uncommon. To know that our “wished for child” is healthy and who we thought she was, is an incredible gift and not something that we will ever take for granted.

She's certainly a mover and shaker this one. Constantly "kicking" day and night. I hope she sleeps more when she's out in the world. Something tells me I've got a live wire on my hands. This is what I've signed up for... no complaints!

All our children are gifts. The love for them is so compounding and all-encompassing that it’s hard to put into words. I have said over the years to people contemplating children that if you think you know what love is – then multiply it by 10 million. But it’s actually immeasurable.

So on this week when some people are pissing me off, to be blunt, I am thankful for my blessings of my kids. I am blessed. I know. The struggle & inability to have children for some is heartbreak beyond words.

Children will break your heart. I’m just so lucky to have this love inside me that I will put my heart on the line for the rest of my life. Bring on more heartbreak, immeasurable love and cries of joy in hospital toilet cubicles. Kids rule.