I’m getting more of a nesting mindset. And I’m about to use up most of our huge 5l bottle of Dettol. We spent most of the glorious sunshine time yesterday clearing out all traces of the rodent visitors we’ve realised must have been hanging out in our shed. Cue one exceptionally grossed out pregnant woman. Who is now disinfecting everything she can see. (We’re monitoring what’s happening and have sonic alarms in, and working on making it secure. By that I mean I’m sending big brave husband in there because I’m sure as hell staying away.)
On Saturday we’d headed to Hyperjapan. I’d been hoping to find some kawaii stuff for the nursery, as we’ve literally got nothing but didn’t see any housewares really. Not that that’s a problem really, as we’re not even halfway. Truth be told, I think I am waiting for the reassurance of the 20 week scan (Friday) before really starting to prepare for this bambino – and then I’ll probably choose some fabric and make some things rather than buy them.
I am uber-excited about finding out whether we’re having a boy or a girl. We strongly suspect boy, I’ve always pictured myself with a girl though. So finding out this week will let us prepare, and get excited. I’m quite anxious to hear the heartbeat again, or see it.
Over Skype with my mum today, I caught up on the news from SIL who’s due in April. They’re totally prepped of course. We got around to talking about my own birth, and she told me things that I’d probably heard before, but this time I paid attention.
- Mum went into hospital on her wedding anniversary, the 27th, as I was three weeks overdue, scheduled for an induction the next day.
- Dad was staying at my granny’s and went in to see her on the scheduled date, the 28th. The hospital reception told him that she had gone into the delivery suite and to come back in the afternoon.
- What had actually happened was, Mum woke up that day and had two breakfast options. (a) no breakfast (b) breakfast followed by an enema. She went hungry.
- Nurse did an examination and upon saying Mum was (she can’t remember) “however many” centimetres dilated (I’m guessing about 9.75) decided Mum had to go to the delivery suite immediately.
- She was wheeled downstairs on a gurney, and was greeted by the cleaning lady.
- I arrived.
It looks like I omitted some steps there, right? No, my mother didn’t have any labour, apparently. She certainly didn’t have any labour pains. I was just… there. She didn’t even get into the suite, I popped out as she was being wheeled down the corridor. She also reminded me that with my older brother, she got into a room in the emergency department in the hospital (at 1am after my granny, who drove her the forty-five minute journey because my dad was managing a night shift, banged on the door til the nurses opened up) and just about managed to slip off her Dr Scholl sandals and he arrived in the same manner. Oh yes, and thirty minutes later, she got up and went down the corridor to the payphone to call her mother’s house and announce that there was a daughter and my father should bloody well turn around and come back. In case you missed that, she walked down to call him.
What has this led me to conclude? That I should fervently hope that in the same way that you can often expect to have the same experience of morning sickness as your mother, the birth experience also follows? That some women really do blink and ‘get a baby’? Well, yeah. I’d love to think that the first can happen, my mother seems to embody the second. But all in all it’s just made me hope to be even half as awesome as my mum.