So at 27 weeks pregnant, I finally caved and hit the sales in a bid to get ready for Mini Madam’s arrival. Having sorted out all Dexter’s old babygros I think we were both a little embarrassed how stained and stretched they were! So we had a mass binning session and charity shop dump last weekend to make room for baby. Her nursery is now crammed with tiny dresses and rompers which has made things feel a little more real. We still have a long way to go though and are short on blankets, bedding, and little places for her to chill out (rockers and swings etc). If you spot any bargains, or have any recommendations - do chuck me the links as I need all the help I can get!
Name choices have also been coming thick and fast this week and we now have a A3 sheet of paper covered with ‘possibles’ strung up in the bathroom… not the traditional place I know, but I figure it’s the best place for Craig to have a little ‘think’. Far from shying away from the oldie-worldly names, Craig has perhaps embraced the idea a little too much and I’ve spotted some truly awful ones being secretly scrawled onto the list. I have a feeling I’ll have a fight on my hands to get her a name she won’t hate us for when she’s older.
Thankfully the morning sickness has flared only once this week, but sciatica strikes every few hours. I’ve dug out my old bump bands and have given up attempting to walk gracefully. Taking my boots off after a trip out now resembles a yoga move with lots of grunting and swearing for dramatic effect. The overall effect is a little like I’m trying to make Team GB’s Weightlifting squad for Rio.
Glancing down at my naked tummy, my belly button is now a little off-centre so it seems Mini Madam has a preferred side. If you press lightly over the bump there are two slightly harder spots (feet and head) which means we’re able to gauge her length with a little more accuracy. She’s definitely longer than Dexter was at this stage and I’ve had the odd killer moment where her tiny feet have lodged into my ribs. Not only is this seriously painful, I’m also more than a little squeamish about having to poke them back through.
Due to her tiny lungs functioning better now, in just a few short weeks she’s gone from having a 1 in 4 chance of premature survival, to very good odds. There’s also a good chance she’s sucking her fingers and hiccuping in there now. Next week I’ll be in the third trimester and we’ll be on the home stretch. I’m really looking forward to having my body back to myself, and can’t wait to for that first celebratory swig of champagne. I figure I deserve it.
