*Boyfriend Footnote*

As much as I hate to quote Sir Alex Ferguson it's definitely 'squeaky bum time'.

A Little Pocket Of Calm

I can't sleep. So I've come into our new nursery/office/spare room to update the blog which I'm hoping in turn will organise my thoughts into some semblance of order and calm. This was our last weekend as 2....! I am so full of nerves, excitement and apprehension that I don't know what to do with myself. I have never had an operation or an overnight stay in hospital before so I think that I am preoccupying myself with all of those fears instead of seeing the bigger picture! I am such a plonker;(.

If I'm honest, I haven't really felt that well for a couple of weeks and I'm not going to lie: although I love feeling the little boy squirming away inside me, I am also beyond ready to reclaim my body. I can't wait not to have heartburn, or piles. I can't wait to feel like my internal organs have a bit of space again. I can't wait to not have numb fingers and swollen hands and feet. I can't wait to run up a hill. I can't wait to be mobile, to not ache or seize up after sitting in the same position for too long. In short, I can't wait now for this bit to be over. Little Boy, we have shared enough of me now: it's time you got your tiny ass out here and learn a little bit of spatial awareness;)!

But I don't have long to wait. And I'm not sure how this week will pan out and when or if I'll have time to update you all here. But I will do my very best, and if I can't, I will make sure Andy can. In the meantime, here are some photos of what was our lovely guest bedroom, becoming something altogether more exciting! Of course he'll be in with us for a little while but this is his room soon! And at the moment, while Andy sleeps off his last Sunday afternoon beer garden with friends of freedom, my little sanctuary of calm.

Until next time.............................

Before: A Lovely Guest Room:)

Different Angle

After Andy's Hard Work: Our Little Boy's Room.../Office/Guest Room;)

By Night;)

Different Angle

Man At Work>3

A Work In Progress, AKA, A Mess;(.

 

The Baby Is Not For Turning

Wow! My baby blogging is getting prolific! There's a lot going on at this end of 9 months, non?!

So, the wrong way baby is.....still very much the wrong way:(.

Andy and I were at The Whittington bright and early, I had had nowt to eat or drink since the night before since the ECV carries a small chance of stressing the baby out and sending you into premature labour, so they make sure you're operating theatre ready just in case. We saw a midwife who took my blood pressure and a consultant who scanned me to check he was still definitely the wrong way. He was. What can I say? My son is clearly a single minded little thing who marches to the beat of his own drum rather than follow the pack. I wonder if this is the shape of things to come?!

Then we waited. Then Andy had to go to work so then I waited.... It's a good job there's a lot to watch in an ante natal hospital ward. There was a young lady who had gone into labour then her contractions had stopped. There was another young lady who was recovering from a procedure to put a stitch in her cervix (she has what's known as an incompetent cervix, whereby her cervix opens far too early and she had miscarried 2 babies already: it's the same problem that Kym Marsh had with her last 2 pregnancies). But by far the most interesting patient to a nosy parker like me, was the lady that I think was in from Holloway Prison. She had her own side room and was being, errrm, "attended" by 2 guards and chained to a third:-/. I soooooo wanted to know what the whole story was with THAT one. She didn't even look that pregnant to me so it must be some complication. Unfortunately, if I had to make an educated guess, I'd say it was drug related:(. She smiled at me while she walked around the ward though, so I'm hoping she wasn't the violent type: I like to think the best of people!

So, at 2pm they sent me up to the labour ward, hooked me up to a foetal monitor and gave me a shot of something to relax my womb which had the unfortunate side effect of giving me terrible shakes and making me feel really rather peculiar:(. Then three doctors came and had a go at turning the little boy. Man, it is an UNCOMFORTABLE procedure! You'd think that someone man handling your baby bump would be entirely bearable but it was really quite unpleasant. It just felt so unnatural to be messing with it on such a grand scale and I did feel a little bit anxious about the Pickle. The first time they tried it, he got a little bit upset and his heart rate went up so we waited for it to calm down before trying again. Twice. He didn't get upset on the next 2 occasions, but he did metaphorically flip us all the bird, by essentially flipping BACK as soon as the professionals took their hands off my belly. Just like a Weebl. Ironically, I've been comparing myself to a Weebl since I got quite heavy with bump but I think he's nicked my crown;(!

So, we agreed the The Baby Is Not For Turning (this is a pun on a very famous Maggie Thatcher quote in case you're wondering why I keep banging on about it!). Babies can be persistently breech for all sorts of reasons but essentially, if that's the way he wants to be,then maybe we should leave him well alone. Sometimes, it can be because the cord is tangled and it's uncomfortable for them to move, or perhaps my uterus is an unusual shape that is making it difficult for him to get his head down. We will know more when my son is lifted out of my womb some time in the next 2 weeks; as now, it's planned caesarean section time:(.

A few people on twitter have said there's no reason not to deliver a breech baby naturally but at this juncture, I wouldn't dream of it. Yes, breech babies can be born naturally but with some caveats: that the baby is estimated to be on the small size (well, you've seen the size of my bump so that's the first big cross), that it is not a first delivery (another big cross), that the mother-to-be has a roomy pelvis for the baby to go through (I have 34 inch hips: that'll be a third big cross then).

Yes, I could ask to try but really, given that at the moment there are no factors in my favour, I think it would be ridiculous. Not only ridiculous but also really dangerous, both for me and my baby boy. Naturally, I'm a bit gutted but as one of my ante natal girlies said, we are about to start on a journey that will involve us not doing what we want to do, in order to do what's best for our child and that journey is starting for me now. It's safest for him to be born by C-section and so that's the way it will be. Imagine if I dug my heels in and then something terrible happened? I'd never forgive myself. The medical professionals know what they're doing. They certainly know more about this shizzle than I do, so I bow down to their greater knowledge.

So, over a cup of sweet tea, on the labour ward, in room 12, myself and a junior doctor decided what birthday my son will have. Very odd.

I won't share the deets now so there it's a small element of surprise for my friends and family and you guys! (if you care;). Rest assured, I will be blogging about it all from my hospital bed, if I can!

I came home, unpacked my labour bag, and repacked a suitcase for me and a bag for the little boy to accommodate our longer hospital stay. Boooooooo.

There is of course, a chance that I could go into labour early and I've been told that if that happens, I'm to go straight to hospital without passing go or collecting £200 as I will have to have an emergency C-section before his little bottom travels too far down the birth canal. I'm praying that doesn't happen, not only because I've got 2 bleedin' voice overs on this week and I need to go and earn some cash to keep my boy in baby grows;). I've also got a birthday lunch on Wednesday and it'll be my last chance to see some of those guys before I am chained to a dirty nappy;). Blimey! Do I sound like a dreadful mother already?!

Right, so there we have it. The Baby Is Not For Turning. Single minded little bugger. Sx




Left: Good Baby. Right: Bad baby;)

For My Mama On Mother's Day....

Today is my last Mother's Day as only a daughter and not a mother too. I wish I could have spent it with my incredible mother but we are going to spend some quality Mother/Daughter/Grandson time together when the Ickle Pickle is here in the next couple of weeks.

I just wanted to write an open letter to my Mama and to all the Mamas out there because, until I fell pregnant and thought a lot about my new role as a mother, it wasn't something that I had given much thought to. I guess I had really taken my mother for granted. Suddenly finding myself on the cusp of motherhood myself has made me take stock of what she really means to me and the kind of sacrifices my mother made for me. These challenging 9 months of pregnancy have really hit home what a mum has to do even before we set foot on earth. Then when I was growing up i am now astounded of the sacrifices my mum made for me.. She drove me to ballet classes 4 week nights out of 5 and took me to London every Saturday from the ages of 11 to 16. I'm not sure I ever gave any thought to the things that she was giving up for me when she was doing that: not least a relaxing evening in front of the tv but time spent with friends and her husband.

There was nothing my Mama couldn't do if she put her mind to it: she was an accomplished seamstress and knitter, she made rugs and baked cakes, she made us fantastic fancy dress outfits: nothing seemed to be beyond her and I so wish I was like her now: I often look at the wonderful ball gowns she made still hanging in the spare room wardrobe at home and I marvel at the workmanship that went into them. My clever Mama. I am getting my wedding dress made for my wedding later on this year and I so wish she could make it but unfortunately, all of the amazing craftiness had taken its toll on her and the arthritis in her hands would make that very difficult. However, never one to shirk off a challenge, she has agreed instead to make all the invitations, menus, table plans etc. and I have no doubt they will be beautiful. Her handmade cards are stunning and I'm so proud that even though she has her freedom pass now, she still finds ways to be brilliantly creative. One day I hope she will be able to teach me how to do these wonderful things, although I fear now at nearly 40 with a tiny baby on the way, I will never get to be as accomplished. I will endeavour to find other ways of being a fabulous mummy, like mine.

So Mama, this blog post is just for you, and is a thank you for all the wonderful things that you do and the wonderful person that you are. I'm not sure if my siblings and I and our large extended family ever tell you how much we appreciate you but if there's ever a day to do it, then today is that day.

We love the way you make your house a home for us, we love the way you spoil our children with love and treats whenever they visit, we love the way that the fridge and cupboards are always full of the delicious food and drinks we enjoy, we love the way the bed sheets are always clean and fresh, we love the way your washing smells better than ours ever could, we love the way you cry at rubbish, made-for-tv movies in the hallmark channel, we love the way you find the deepest joy in a new pair of shoes, we love the way you always look so glamorous, we love the way you get totally squiffy on only 2 glasses of red wine, we love the way you can make the crackling on pork so deliciously crispy. In short, we love you, and all the things that you do for us.

So here I am, on the brink of motherhood myself for the first time and I find myself wondering if I am going to be any good at it. And I'm nervous that I won't be. You are a hard act to follow that's for sure Mama, but if I even do a fraction of as good a job as you have done then I will have done OK. And I hope that one Mother's Day in the future, when I am perhaps on the brink of Grandmotherhood, that my son will reflect on the kind of Mother I was to him, and I hope I make him as proud of me, as I am of you.

My brilliant, beautiful, talented, kind and loving Mama. I love you. Happy Mother's Day.

This song is for you, because I remember buying it for you on 7" when I was about 12 and being so pleased with myself because it had your name in it. I'm not even sure you liked the song, but I did, and I still do.

I can't wait for you to meet your newest Grandson. Not long now:-).

Beautiful Valerie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RriQt0ebFaw

Turn! Turn! Turn!

I am writing this lying upside down on my ironing board which is leaning against the sofa and I've got my feet above my head. Why? I hear you ask? Has she finally lost it? No, no need yet to have me committed: pregnancy hasn't sent me that bonkers. Unfortunately, after a birth assessment last night, it was discovered that our little bugger is breech and I'm trying to gently encourage him to do some flipping. I feel ridiculous! Hang on a sec.....

There we go, right side up again.

So, I thought there had been an inordinate amount of movement in there of late but to be honest, he may have been breech all along. According to our 4D scan, he was breech at 30 weeks. So we're not sure if he's ever flipped himself upside down....

Last night at our appointment, we discussed our perfect birthing centre birth and how I was going to use all my breathing techniques to breathe him out and then Andy and I would retire to the big double bed in the room with our new arrival before taking him home 12 hours later after 2 picture perfect breast feeds. Lovely.

Well, our son has other ideas (why do I think this is going to become a running theme in the story of our parenting?!). So we went into the the labour ward and got a scan to confirm the midwife's hunch and sure enough, our little boy, being the advanced little bugger he is with a keen sense of gravity, has decided he's not sure he likes being upside down and he's sitting up in there. You can't blame him, I guess;). So, our options? Well, I've got to go back tomorrow morning having fasted from midnight tonight for a thing called External Cephalic Version when basically, an experienced professional will try and manipulate him into an upside down position. You have to fast because there's a small chance that the baby will get distressed and I'll go into labour, in which case, I'll have to have an emergency C-section.

If he won't flip, or flips then flips back (which can be common) then I'll be booked in for a planned C-section at 39 weeks.

It's wierd, you'd think that potentially dodging the labour bullet would fill a girl with joy but quite the opposite: I felt very flat and tearful when we discussed all this with the medical professionals last night and I still feel like that today. It's almost as though giving birth is a bit of a rite of passage for women: an experience one really wants to be able to tick off the list. Which is a bit silly really, given that the most important thing is to deliver a healthy baby safely.

Randomly, Andy was still keen to try with a natural labour but apparently, according to the midwife dealing with us, the reason that natural breech births aren't practiced so much anymore is because very few midwives are trained to do them. I joked that I should draft in Miranda Hart, since she seems to know what she's doing (this joke will be lost on anyone who didn't watch Call The Midwife and one episode in particular when "Chummy" had to deliver a breech baby having never done it before, and did it brilliantly!)

Anyway, I have a day to see if I can flip this little bugger, so I'm going to lie upside down on the ironing board a bit, bounce on my Swiss ball a bit, I'm going to see if I can get an appointment with an acupuncturist and try this moxibustian thing that's been mentioned and if I have time in between all of that, I'm going to go and do some handstands in the swimming pool. In short, I'm going to act like I've finally lost it. So if you see me on your travels, try not to stare, yeah?

Oh, and just briefly, my fundal measurement (ie, the size of the bump) is completely normal and not bigger than it should be at this stage at all so if you see me down the shops: please stop asking if I'm having more than one;).

One more thing before I bugger off: thank you SO much to the lovely PR team over at Isabella Oliver for lending the beautiful cobalt blue dress for my Dad's big 70th birthday do and to Rosie at OK! for helping me procure it:). Bump pics and dress pics are below.

Sx




Apparently, a normal sized bump! Thighs and bum are DEFINITELY bigger though:(.




In Isabella Oliver at Daddy's 70th:)

Out With The Old.....

I'm sitting in bed with a purring Tilly Kitten, drinking sweet tea and listening to Shawn Keaveny interviewing John Niven on 6music, author of Kill Your Friends, a satire on the Britpop world I was lucky enough to inhabit in the nineties and I'm struck by how much my life has changed:-). You see, one of the overriding themes I'm coming across from family, friends, acquaintances, hell even passers by is just how much more my world is going to be turned upside down in the next 3 weeks or so. 


So, I'm sort of drawn on the subject. Half of me is thinking blimey! How hard can it be?? Don't tiny babies sleep sometimes? And although I'll need to catch up on my sleep sometimes too, I categorically refuse to believe that I won't have the odd 5 minutes to clean the bleedin' loo! I'm actually pretty lucky: maybe it's because of all those lost nights back in the hazy nineties but I can cope on very little sleep: Andy is suffering much more than me in recent weeks because of my night time fitfulness but then he's working full time and I'm bimbling around the place nesting, ironing and organising. It's a bit different I guess;). So, I'm hoping that I'll still be able to have some semblance of life, that I'll be able to at least get dressed of a day (if I want to of course) and we'll be able to get out into the sunshine and have a walk, see friends, clean the loo....


The thing that the well meaning advice givers don't realise is that I'm actually relishing the prospect of a new, upside-down world! I'm nearly 40! And as John Niven just pointed out on the radio, what's fun in your twenties, gets really tired (and tiring!) in your thirties....


You know what? I've had a REALLY good time these past 20 years. I've done some brilliant jobs, I've been to some amazing places, I've attended some eye wateringly good parties (some of which are immortalised in print) and I've kissed some incredibly unsuitable men. In short, I've had a BLOODY GOOD TIME. But I was ready to settle down....


Truthfully, I was ready a long time ago to settle down but my Knight In Shining Armour got stuck in traffic (or more to the point, a relationship that wasn't working for him) and I had to wait for the planets to align and kismet to occur before I could embrace my Happy Ending. But I'm a true believer in things happening at the right time and for the right reasons. Andy is without doubt the perfect man for me and if meeting him later in life meant I had to wade through a sea of wankers and wait til my late 30s for our serendipitous union then I believe that it was the right time. Now is the right time:-). So to all the naysayers who think that we will miss the heady days of singledom, late nights and a carefree existence I say this: we are ready for a new chapter, one we are relishing the opportunity to face together. Yes there will be challenges, sleepless nights and a distinct lack of glamour but we are SO excited for that adventure to begin. Eeeeek! Yessssss! that "nearly Christmas" feeling has finally arrived! I can't wait til the Pickle is in our arms:-). He's been having a right good squirm the last couple of days and I'm hoping that he's having one last trip around his bijou home to check he's not forgotten anything, before he casts a quick look over his shoulder, straps on his backpack and heads for his new home: Airspace:-).


"He"? I hear ya say! "He"????? Yes, HE!!! I know I've dropped the odd hint and accidentally mentioned it in passing but we were waiting for OK! magazine to run the cute baby bump photo shoot before we went official like and it went out today, so yes, "He" is nearly here.... But you'll definitely have to wait to find out what we are calling him. But I'll give you a clue: he will have the same Christian name as one of Andy's favourite authors....


So, I'll get the piece scanned in and posted up later today but in the meantime, have a lovely day dudes and dudettes and here's to life changing events enhancing our lives, not ruining them! After all, if it was really that bad, we'd all be only children, right??!

*Boyfriend Footnote*

Well the little ones arrival has rocketed toward us as has the impending parenthood! I'd say it's gone quick if the last week or so hadn't dragged on. It appears Sarah is fed up and bored now, as am I.

Fears of the labour have misted her mind clouding the idea of the amazing miracle that is due to happen in (hopefully) less than 3 weeks.

However, that's all well and good but I'd like to discuss the biggest issue that has occurred to Sarah and I during the pregnancy. It's something so relationship changing, nee, life changing it makes my heart palpitate. Its Frightening and Constantly niggling at me. Its a disorder of the worst kind and since sarah has picked it up I fear for us both.

It's Mum-Dancing! That's right... The naffer cousin of the funky chicken, sibling of Dad-Dancing and socially unacceptable like the inbred neighbour - the awkward shuffle. Sarah insisted to all at a recent family party that it was because she had the big bump she couldn't look her usual graceful and sexy self while throwing shapes... I'd argue that she's simply, some would say prematurely, morphed into a mum before the babies here to embarrass! The legs shuffle, the arms move a lot but not as much as the bum! This is equal measures of funny and cute. HOWEVER! Dad-Dancing is a far more serious issue. I doubt I've ever been Justin timberlake on the dance floor but I thought dancing like Uncle Knobhead at a wedding didn't come until your 50s! I'm not ready to embrace it yet!!! I did catch myself doing a type of jive in the bedroom when I let my guard down.

This dwarfs the fact that I have no idea how to hold a baby (I've avoided it throughout my 20s) and hence no idea how to look after one.

I'd better off and go practise my moves in the mirror!

Shamone! X

My old man demonstrating Dad-Dancing, Sarah pre-mum dancing and my mum... well the less I say about that the better!

The Sharp End

Baby Shower Loveliness

Nearly 37 weeks! Eeeeeeek!!

Had my first proper apprehensive meltdown last night after watching One Born Every Minute on 4OD. This episode was properly gruesome: women variously screaming in agony, puking their guts up repeatedly and losing control of their bowels:(. I am an emetophobe which means I have a phobia of throwing up so watching those hapless women in vast amounts of pain whilst hurling their guts up into cardboard bowls struck the absolute FEAR OF GOD into me. This labour business looks like some version of hell on earth. It would have been nice to have maybe one lovely, calm delivery with some nice yogic breathing and a bit of natal hypnotherapy in....I refuse to believe that all deliveries are that traumatic. However, I can well believe that the more traumatic the delivery, the better the TV content in the eyes of the telly people so I get why those are the births that are featured. Anyway, Andy and Angellica peeled me off the ceiling by way of reassuring cuddles and calming phone conversations respectively. Then today, one of the girls in my NCT group emailed us with news of her new baby girl and told us all about her labour. Whilst it wasn't the picture book water birth she had hoped for, she said that it was perfectly manageable and nothing to be scared of. Thanks Natalie! And congratulations on the arrival of Alyssa:).

I'm fairly sure that these nerves and apprehension are completely normal at this point. It is a big deal. But I have to keep reminding myself that women have done this since time immemorial and I will have a beautiful baby at the end of it. I'm concentrating on making the excitement at becoming a mummy, outweigh the fear of how I'm meant to get there.

The nursery/office/spare room is now very much taking shape, the cot dramas are nearly finished (just need Andy to assemble it now), the crib is here and ready: it's over 40 years old and my older sister and I both slept in it:), my bags are packed and my diary is thinning out slowly. I'm still waddling to work when I'm needed and I'm trying to stay as mobile as possible by visiting friends and ambling into Crouch End to get groceries. I will miss all the lovely looks and comments I get when I'm waddling around London: it will be a shame to say goodbye to all the attention;(. When the Pickle arrives, it will be all about that for a while and then we will just be another mother and child, clogging up the bus with a trendy pushchair;).

So, in order to capitalise as much as humanly possible on being the centre of attention, and let's be honest, I've been doing it for a living for the last 15 years, I decided I'd have a baby shower! How very United States of me;). I made sure my friends knew that I didn't expect gifts (not that anyone took any notice!) but I thought it would be a lovely chance to see everyone before the distraction of a tiny child enters the frame.

A fab company called Before Baby came and made my living room look gorgeous with balloons and bunting and decorated my coffee table with all sorts of delicious treats for us to pick at. We had lemonade served in little old fashioned milk bottles and Chrystal, who runs the company, organised some wonderfully fun and silly games: lots of against the clock style stuff and also, baby grow decorating. It was fantastic fun and a great way for all my friends, some of whom don't really know each other, to bond. The only trouble was that we all kept gossiping instead of concentrating on the job in hand! I think in the end, it was the 2 mums that basically won everything: mine and Andy's. (maybe one gets more competitive as the years advance;)).

Speaking of Andy, I have never seen a man keener to leave his own home and go down the pub in the rain in my life. He was utterly terrified. Reckoned you could smell the oestrogen halfway down the street;). He escaped to watch the Spurs game leaving with the clear caveat that there would be trouble if I didn't save him a cupcake and some pick n mix.....

I've put a selection of the best photos below. The only odd thing about the whole day if I'm honest, was the lack of booze! Although I did open a few bottles of red for my guests figuring I could live a little vicariously through them.

I have been having the odd drink throughout this pregnancy which didn't get past all the #leavestaceyalone tweeters after I posted a fairly unsympathetic blog post on the Huffington Post about her fall from grace after being snapped having a sneaky fag last week. You can read my somewhat opinionated piece here. But remember, it is just an opinion and in our land of free speech, I am entitled to one so if you're one of The Soloman's barmy army, then don't lose your mind about it. I'm sure she'll bounce back. She seems very sweet and VERY sorry, poor sod. I'm sure the dust will settle on the whole sorry saga soon.

So, there we have it! Baby Shower TASTIC! Thank you to all my gorgeous girlies for coming: I had such a lovely time and I will treasure all my wonderful memories always and our Ickle Pickle will be the best dressed baby in N8! With the best accessories, toiletries, teddies and toys! SO spoilt and not even here yet!!

I must be off to start my weekend but I'm aware I haven't written about the Baby Show yet:-/. Was such fun. I will do a retrospective post about it over the weekend. Tomorrow I'm headed back to my Dad's 70th birthday party in Lincolnshire. I managed to borrow a really gorgeous dress from Isabella Oliver which I'm very excited to wear! I guess I should take my yellow maternity notes with me too now, oui? Oooo, this is all getting very real. Soon we will be 3:-).

Sxxx







Chrystal gets us all to guess the size of my bump using a length of wool. Mama Cawood won;)!








TV Producer Gina Lyons has a go (She came last:))








Michelle was slightly kinder;)








The 2 Mums, Rosemary on the left (Andy's) and Valerie on the right (Mine)







 

A little showbiz trio, Angellica Bell, Gina Lyons, Michelle Heaton. All looking gorgeous!








Mums and old school friends Becca and Joe.








The Baby Shower massiiiive!








Anita, Chrystal, Me and Nebrass. The Before Baby Ladies. They rocked!