Today I would like to shoot...

my mother in law.

After she practically moved in with us during Poopee's first month, we somehow managed to get the house key back from her (we didn't give her the key in the first place). Somehow with her getting in and out of the house all hours of the day didn't sit well with me.

No.

She has an opinion on everything, and is not afraid to tell me what a bad mother I am because I don't know how to put a cardigan on my daughter, my breastfeeding routine is wrong, the fabrics of the grow-suits I bought for Poopee are of poor quality, I don't know how to change Poopee properly, I am the one RESPONSIBLE for giving Poopee a slight nappy rash because I didn't wipe her properly...etc etc etc.

I was simply too tired, and too emotional to fight her. I offered fimble explanations, she brushed my explanations off as being too `new age' - after she has looked after 3 children of her own and four grandchildren. So she is ALWAYS right.

My breaking point was one day last week, Poopee did the biggest poopee in her nappy, and without asking me, MIL picked up my child and declared it is time to bath. In the past I refused to let her bath my child because I maintained that I want to do everything myself. This time she wanted to do it just to SHOW me how it's done - properly. I was too tired to protest so I followed her into the bathroom like a little girl.

Bad moment of weakness on my part.

She started to lecture me about my technique. She said she overhead Poopee's cries during her bathtime (I should never let her into the house), and said it is probably because I am too quick to get her into the water and frightened the living lights out of her. I said not all babies enjoy bathtimes - some babies cry. She said, ALL BABIES ENJOY THEIR BATHS. No babies will cry like Poopee did.

So on her high horse, she begin her perfect bathing technique. And guess what, Poopee cried. She cried real good.

And then, she told me it is because the water I prepared was too hot. I was boiling the poor baby, she said babies need to have luke warm water.

I said - this is luke warm water. See? (Dipping my elbow into the water). This is luke warm. Even the midwives in the hospital said this is perfectly okay.

She said - no - it has to be cooler. This is hot water. Not lukewarm. You are burning your own child.

My eyes were wide open in shock - THIS IS LUKWARM WATER. My god - any cooler than this my daugther will be bathing in cold water.

Afterwards I was so angry, so FUCKING angry, because she was doubting my abilities as a mother, she always want to be right, she wants to have the last word. And how can I argue with her? She looked after 7 children compared to my 1.

When she knocks on the door these days (we took the house key back), I am going to pretend I didn't hear it. I really want to kick her off her fucking high horse and give her a dose of reality. The reality that I AM Poopee's mother, not her.

And you know what the worse thing is? When she comes over, she takes Poopee off my arms straight away, and refuses to give back until she leaves - which can be hours later. I don't want to be petty like her, and fights to carry my own child, so I let her. But it makes me feel so vulnerable that she feels it is her given right to take Poopee away from me when she wants. She really is a very frightening human being. She can't wait until I return to work, hopefully soon, so she can look after Poopee and give her the best care.

But I'm afraid, not even over my dead body.

All advice on how to deal with his person are welcome. Apeman knows his mom is the equivalent of Hitler. But he soothes me by saying his mom is only here these days for `quick' visits, so I should just let her be. She shouldn't walk into MY house and tell me what to do.

The Vaccination Story

Not much to tell really, except I saw a massive needle heading towards the direction of my beloved's baby thigh, nearly all of that needle plunged into her flesh. There were cries of pain and agony. Then the other baby thigh was offered. Yet another needle, which I was told hurts even more than the first needle, was plunged into tender baby flesh again. More cries of agony, tears rolling down cheeks. I quickly sat up and cuddled Poopee close to me.

I looked down at the face of my baby-cake, she was fast asleep already - like it never happened.

The tears were all mine.

Sigh....we do it again in two months time.

The Post-Natal Checkup

So anyhoo I went for my post-natal checkup last thursday. It was exactly 8 weeks ago since I gave birth.

My single stitch had healed long ago, even as soon as I left the hospital after four days. Everything feels pretty much back to normal except I am now a little loose down there. The bleeding stopped after four/five weeks. But it came back in two separate occasions - the last time was last week. So I was a little worried about Poopee leaving something behind inside my uterus.

The Good Doctor sent me off to do a pelvic scan. The uterus looked fine - no debri left behind. There was even a developing follicle, which scared the living hell out of me when it was pointed out to me (it used to excite me to the nth degree, it used to give me so much joy to see a developing follicle). Fortunately it was on the wrong side (the little ovary that grew back, and with no traffic to the uterus).

Which brings me to the next big discussion with the Good Doctor - to use contraception or not from hereon.

Pfft....contraception. It used to be a dirty word for me. It was a joke. I WAS the walking contraception. No pills needed. Isn't this all very ironic? I was discussing contraception with my fertility doctor.

Apeman is very keen to make Poopee II. Drew is very happy and content with her life with new Poopee, and is keen to enjoy life with my precious bub as much as possible minus all of the reproduction dramas we experienced in the past years. Apeman thinks Poopee needs a sibling, we should tempt fate and try for another baby. Drew thinks if Apeman wants another baby he better learn how to self-reproduce.

To be honest, I am just plain scared to step into the baby-making minefield again. Although I have done it once, I am not sure if I can do it again. Plus I am not prepared to go down the IVF road again - which conviniently, we don't have anymore embryos left from our last cycle. Only two days ago, I had the pleasure of throwing out my remaining IVF kits containing leftover drugs and some needles. It feels really weird, a bit like breaking up a bad drug habit.

So the conclusion with regard to the contraception question was, I won't go on the pill in the short term because we can't be THAT lucky. pretty stupid I know, but we honestly cannot be that lucky. And who has time for sex these days anyway, I rather sit down and eat a good meal. :>)

That's why I wanted to be a mom

Updates

Feels like a million years ago since I last blogged.

These days, getting a feed myself so I can have sufficient energy is the most important thing. Other things, which used to be important in my life, such as getting my faced washed in the morning, putting on creams, getting my hair dead straight just the way I like it, reading the newspaper, putting on proper clothes, sleeping ... everthing seems so secondary, and unimportant. When Poopee's awake, which seems to be 95% of the day (and sometimes at night), everything that belongs to me, or what I feel is important, suddenly goes out the door.

Is this normal? Am I doing this properly?? Looks like I am not doing this motherhood thing as graciously as I anticipated I would. Ha!

Poopee today weighs a healthy 3.4kg, and measures 55cm. She has gained more than 1.2kg since birth. She's developed a real cheeky attitude, she wants to be hold all the time (which I don't mind, and love it when she falls asleep in my arms), and when she's left alone in her cot, she screams bloody murder!!!!!! So that's why these days there isn't alot of time for myself. She breastfeeds well now. Sometimes she just am not that interested so I give her the bottle. I guess I am pretty lucky that Poopee is so versatile with the two options. She has also given us plenty of cheeky smiles, so beautiful that Apeman holds her and kisses her all the time, acting as if he is the only person in the world who made a baby.

The isolation is getting to me though. Since negotiating with my mother in law, she has toned down on her `visits' to just once a day. Sometimes she doesn't show up at all just to give me some time alone with the baby. Although I appreciate this new found time away from my mother in law, the time on my own is starting to get to me. I hope to start venturing out on my own and do things real soon. Like joining a mothers group or something.

And.... this is an interesting discovery, has any of you new mothers tried having a boooink with your other half yet? I tried two weeks ago. Apeman and I tried to do it for the first time since I found out I was pregnant last year (yes...that long...). The moment he went inside I said, `I feel so loose.' He said the same. If I feel loose imagine what it's like for him. It just got too depressing so we stopped. He said we will have sex again when Poopee's 18 months old to try for a second baby.

I said, you can wait longer because there ain't going to be a second baby. I feel blessed already with Poopee. A second baby will be like winning the lottery twice, and I don't want to tempt fate.

Now....for me, it's time to get back to the baby. It's time for a nappy change for the 143th time today. Poopees loves a good shit.

The longest sleepwalk

Hands up in the air like I just don't care...

Events so far:

1. I have one cute Poopee whom I absolutely adore, and cannot stop kissing or looking at her. She has these really hairy ears which makes her so much more endearing to me. I whispers love words to her ears all the time.

2. I have one stubborn mother in law who now practically lives with us, she's always here telling me what to do, what not to do, what to eat, what not to eat. She shows up at 8am in the morning, and doesn't leave until late into the night - and during the entire time she scrutinises my every move. She makes me feel like I have been doing everything wrong (just because it is not what she's used to), it makes me want to try even harder. I have tried to be nice and politely tell her I don't need the help or the unwanted advice, (I can manage to change my own baby THANKYOU!), but that just seem to make her do even more for me. I am now at a stand-off with her. Long story, boring to elaborate, I have spent the first two weeks crying about it because I felt like I have been bullied, now I have decided to stand strong and will tell her to back the hell off.

3. We have established some sort of breastfeeding success. Poopee is not doing it entirely right, but as long as my girl is happy to suckle, I am happy.

4. I have gained 8kg and realise nothing in my extensive wardrobe fits. Not even my fat pants. But I do enjoy my new womanly shape to a certain extent.

5. We now call Poopee `C-C' - short for chubby cheeks.

Phase II - The Real Thing

Firstly thanks to those who dropped by and for your beautiful comments. Everyday I look at my little girl and is still in disbelieve - that I was pregnant, and I gave birth to Megan. A few after-thoughts and updates:

• My only birthing injury was a second-degree tear which required a single stitch. I knew exactly when it happened - it was when Poopee's head was just about to emerge, I saw a trickle of blood running across her head. I panicked and asked the doctor where did that blood come from? Was it from the baby? He calmly told me I was a good mother already, worrying about the blood coming from my baby and all, he said the blood belonged to me. I calmed a little and continued to push. Anyhow the stitch pretty much healed up within days. I haven't had a close inspection yet, but things seems pretty normal. I still have a full vagina as far as I can tell.
• I am now having the longest period ever. I was told it will last 4 - 6 weeks. The bleeding has slowed down a little today (Day 13), but I am still sitting on the maternity pillows Apeman bought from the pharmacy. Note to self: Never send a man to do a woman's job. He will buy the wrong type of sanitary napkins.
• Leaving the hospital on Day 5 was an emotional one. We wrapped Poopee up in the pink gear her father had chosen for her when I was 34 weeks pregnant, and a white floral wrap I have been saving for the big day - and said our goodbyes to the hospital staff and midwives. By the time we reached the elevator I was in tears. Just very emotional leaving the hospital and with my babe in my arms.
• I missed being pregnant. I know I whinged about getting heavy and all that pelvic pains and etc. But really, after all the worrying I did during my pregnancy at times I totally neglected the enjoyable moments. I missed my big belly, I missed feeling Poopee kicking me from inside, I missed having her all to myself.
• Parenthood is tough. I spent the first three nights watching Poopee almost 24 hours a day (therefore not sleeping much). I worry about her breathing, other times I just sat and watched her. Watching Poopee can be my full time job. She makes sounds like Michael Jackson when she sleeps (like the `woooo-hooo-hooo'), and is so incredibly animated. She can contort her face hundreds of times when she sleeps. I still look at her and think back that moment when I discovered I was pregnant. It was like a dream.
• Didn't see this one coming - breastfeeding troubles. My girl REFUSES to take to my breast. She learnt how to use her arms as weapons the last two days. So whenever my breast is near her, she pushes me away, but not before she scratches me. Last night when Apeman tried to take her off me, Poopee BIT me on the nipple. For somebody so small (and without teeth) she sure can bite. I was in pain for a long time after that. So now I am expressing milk in between her feeds, pumping away for the Mother of the Year. Around the clock. Am seeing the Lactation Consultant again for the second time next week to see if there is anything else we can do.

We are both still deliriously happy. Megan is our delight.

The Sunshine of My Life

Just hours after my last post about narkiness, one hour past midnight into the start of 22nd March, my waters broke with a vengance - I officially went into labour. I had a late night, for some insane reason I wanted to finish up all the accounting work I was doing for Apeman, so I was on the computer madly tapping away. Eventually Apeman managed to get me off the computer and in bed with him. We talked about when Poopee will arrive, we talked about the possibility of getting an induction in my 39th week, we talked about Poopee.

Then I felt a gush of warm fluids passing through the vagina. I was scared shitless. I rang the midwife whilst sitting on a towel, and was told to go straight to the hospital.

1:30am We arrived at delivery suite reception.

1:31am I requested for epidural. Fuck the previous drugs free birth plan.

2:00am I felt the first strong contraction. It was painful but bearable.

2:05am I was told I am 2cm dilated.

2:10am Was told to get some rest as I was still in`pre-labour' and still has a while to go. Was hit with a massive contraction pain and I requested for epidural again.

3:00am Standing under hot showers with nozzles directing at the lower back, cursing in two different languages. Heard a lady next door moaning and screaming through her own contractions. We somehow managed to synchronise.

3:30am Epidural guy arrived. Apeman supported me whilst the doctor insert that happy drug into my back. It was a funny feeling, slightly painful but at this stage I was desperate for anything.

3:45am Internal examination indicates I was 5 cm dilated. I was also told my Poopee has a full head of hair.

6:00am Calmly discussed the joys of parenthood and infertility with young midwife as I breathe through my contractions. Her shift ends at 7:00am so we both agreed it was a shame she doesn't get to see me give birth...etc. I couldn't feel the pains, but can definitely feel an uncomfortable pressure on my bottom. It wasn't pleasant but bearable.

7:30am Apeman bought coffee, Starburst lollies and a muffin. I was going to have a bite but was told not to in case I need to go to theatre. Was told my good doctor who will be doing the delivery will arrive at 8:45am to do an internal examination on me.

8:40am Good doctor arrived. Fingers in. The first thing he said was, `This baby has a full head of hair!'. The second thing he said was,`On your next contraction I want you to start pushing.' I was 10cm dilated - and was a little surprised because I thought I still have a few hours to go!

8:45am First push. I felt like I was pushing at nothing in particular. My doctor positioned me properly and asked me to push against a certain direction. I did my best.

9:14am Apparently my best was good enough. The head of my beautiful girl emerges.

9:15am The love of my life slide out of my body easily and was placed on my stomach. She has a full head of wet hair, her arms and legs were kicking up in the air - screaming at the indignity of it all! I was crying and told her in my mother's tongue that I have been waiting for her for so long. Then she opened her eyes and `see' me and Apeman for the first time, she is indeed the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

We named her Megan. She is forever my Poopee. My sweet. My everything. She is well worth the wait.

Currently I am surviving on adrenaline, since giving birth on 22nd March I haven't slept much at all. I can't take my eyes off her. She looks like Apeman when she sleeps, and a bit like me when she opens her eyes. She weighed a little under 7 lbs and measured 42cm long when she was born.

And yes she indeed has a full head of hair, it makes us so proud to push her around the hospital nursery amongst all the other bald-headed babies. Words cannot explain how happy we both are at the moment. We are trully blessed.

My Inner Narkiness

The novelty is starting to wear off.

As much as I enjoy this miracle pregnancy (with the second trimester been a dream come true), I now really want to give birth, like right now or even YESTERDAY. I have been dreaming and dreaming about my little Poopee, wondering how she looks like. Even Apeman had a dream about her. So she must be near.

The thing which annoys me, and to be honest it used to amuse me and made me feel like the most popular girl in the world, is that now everybody is asking me when I am giving birth. The butcher, the pharmacist, the girl I buy my Mt Franklin water from, my beautician, my hairdresser, MY FAMILY. Everybody. Everyday. My sister calls me up once a day and always starts the conversation with - `When are you going to pop?'. So last night I snapped and told her (in the best calm voice I could manage) to please stop asking me that question, I will phone you as soon as I go into labour (not). In the end it made me feel so horrible that I lost sleep over it. I feel bad because she is only asking out of concern and excitement for me - just like the rest of the people. I feel like a bitch.

I guess I am getting really frustrated because I can hardly go out these days (walking is painful due to the pressure exerted on my pelvis and butthole), so sitting at home waiting for something to happen, despite the various distractions Apeman has provided me with, is not entirely fun.

Last night I asked Apeman if he would like to `put out' - maybe by having a quick bonk we can speed things up a little. He looked at me with amusement and said yes. But it was a reluctant `are-you-sure' yes. So I said if you don't find me attractive enough these days to have sex with then bugger it. He said he feels disrespectful to Poopee if he makes it with me whilst she is still inside. Which is fair enough because the last thing I need in that cramped space of mine is a reluctant penis.

Writing that last sentence made me laugh. :)

That Epilator can wait....

Two days ago I saw the tiniest bit of blood streak on my cervical mucous after a routine wee. I analysed it for a little while, called the midwife, and was told it was probably a show. I doubted it because the blood streak was so tiny it cannot possibly be a `proper show'. But the midwife reckoned it was. Anyhoo I haven't seen anymore of that (blood) since.

Last night I tried my best to epilate my legs (we ain't going into labour with hairy legs here), unfortunately for me my trusty Braun epilator made a sad little noise and died on me at the most crucial moment (I was halfway through my other leg). So I was going to drive down to my local electrical store this morning to pick up a new one. And then I read about this. My Canadian friend who share similar due dates with me just gave birth, by surprise! I am totally happy for her that everything worked out well, and her baby is so lovely.

Looks like I am staying home today - I am just going to have to settle for one half-epilated hairy leg. Hope nobody notice.

A snap shot

Poopee's in da house.

37 weeks - The almost home run

I can hardly contain my excitement this morning - 37 weeks this week. I can hardly wait to find out how this Kinder Surprise will look like. My little chocolate egg.

At times she is like a breakdancer, kicking and manoveuring ther legs across my stomach. Sometimes it hurts so much I have to jump up and get some relief. I find it helps to talk to her. Poopee calms down for a few moments if I talk to her gently. It really is quite amazing.

Yesterday me and the Ape went to meet with the chief midwife for our pre-admission appointment. We went over the costs of everything (right down to the costs of phone calls and an epidural shot). We were both asked about our medical histories. One thing we did not discuss was my birth plan. I don't have one anyway so I guess that didn't really matter.

I am too tired to write anything sensible or remotely interesting. I haven't been sleeping at all. I wee up to 8 or 9 times a night, and I don't even drink that much water. I am so sleepy but am too scared to sleep during the day in case I can't sleep at night. Hopefully I will be able to get some sleep before the labour starts. Also my pelvis is about to fall apart.

ZZZzzzzzz....

36 weeks plus

Me and poopee were examined by the good doctor just now. The outcome of this appointment was:

• Mommy's blood pressure is still good (a.k.a. normal). So the discomfort I have been feeling lately (the bloating and pressure on bowels) is really Poopee's fault.
• Sugar levels fine - considering the recent indulgements I had, I am damn lucky already.
• Poopee has well, and trully, engaged in my pelvis. Her head is so deep into my pelvis I think I can almost touch her if I reach deep enough. But of course I won't try that one at home. That's mental.
• Poopee is growing well, and continues to be a good size, therefore making her a bit larger than the average baby.
• Internal examination at 38 weeks. And if the cervix is ready, I maybe induced as soon as 38.5 weeks. Which means I maybe having a March Poopee. Fingers crossed because I much rather be expecting the expected, than having my waters broken in public, probably at somewhere really inconvenient like the bank's queue or in my car whilst I'm driving. And with Poopee's size, it makes me a reasonable candidate for inducement.

Dumb-ass question of the week:

Good Doctor: I will be doing an internal examination on you in two weeks time.

Dumbass Drew: Is that going to hurt?

Good Doctor: I think you have bigger things to worry about in a few weeks time. And no, for your information, it doesn't hurt.

Apeman's moment of the week:

Apeman: I saw something really funny yesterday. I was watching you pick up dog shit in the backyard. You were wearing that short dress, and you leaned over, and I can see your undies, and that's the not funny part, I saw your underbelly too. It looks massive from the angle I was watching you from.

Drew: Nice.

Holy Crap!

Now I know I am not a slip of a girl. I know I have been indulging in food and sweet treats. I know I eat quite frequently and in abundance. Because I am happy and don't want to undernourish my unborn.

Imagine my utter shock and horror just now when I was moisturising myself post-shower in front of the bedroom room mirror - and saw patches of angry red welts running all the way up my buttocks and down to my mid-thigh. I have seen these welts before - maybe I wasn't looking for them. Those bloody Palmer's advertisements show them all the time - pregnant women with red stretch marks around the stomach to show you what you will look like if you don't use their product.

I religiously moisturise my stomach. Not with Palmer's stuff, but normal body butter because I have an allergic reaction to the Palmer's products. I must have thought my thighs are immuned to stretch marks.

Yikes!

35 Weeks 5 days Update

How low can you go?

Well apparently in my case, my already low-sitting baby bump has dropped even lower. My body literally can stop traffic these days. Lots of strangers come up to me asking me when I'm due - and get a huge shock when I tell them I still have at least four more weeks to go. The thing is I don't even look that big, but my low sitting baby bump gives people the impression that I was due YESTERDAY.

Even maternity pants at this stage are no longer comfortable. I wear the looset sack dresses just to give my low-hanging Poopee a bit of room.

I really can't wait to have Poopee out. I had another birthing dream last night. This time I dreamt about a drug-free delivery with my beloved Apeman and my good doctor by my side, Poopee weighs in at 17 pounds (yikes!), and she talks! It was very bizarre to say the least.

Poopee continues to use my pelvic floor as her bouncy-castle. She was kicking so hard last night during dinner, I can see (and feel) her little knobby knees pushing out from either sides of my stomach. I was in so much pain that I had to stand up and rock her gently. Think Ommpa Loompa doing a rather slow belly dance.

4 more weeks till I see my Poopee's face. I am going to rain thousands of kisses on her face and baby feet - just to make up for lost time.

34 Weeks + Several Days

Once I watched this movie, or maybe it was an advert, about this expectant mom who started to have contractions in the middle of the night. Her husband completely freaked out and ran around the house frantically searching for the car keys, hoping to get the show on the road as soon as possible. All this while the expectant mom stood calmly beside her packed overnight bag, smiling at her husband.

I never understood where that sense of calm came from.

Yesterday I woke up feeling `weird'. Like something was up. The weird feeling didn't go away and gradually throughout the day, I felt alot of pressure on my, urm, bum area. I can literally feel Poopee's head `descended' into my pelvic region. It was quite uncomfortable to say the least. Then later on the night, I started to feel the beginnings of a mild pelvic pain, for maybe 20 minutes or so.

No sense of calm from me. I completely freaked out to the point I had to put the TV on `mute' just so I can concentrate on my thoughts and what's happening.

Everything is okay today. I think it was Poopee wanting to lock herself in the `engaged' position, or something. I am carrying so low I just can't tell. I reckon when my waters break I will probably scream like a little girl.

In my freakish moments (what's new?) I promptly packed my bags for the hospital.

Better stay home just to be on the safe side. Oh. And charge all batteries.

34 Weeks

Wonderful, wonderful news today from my friend - who really is a trooper. It certainly makes my day. Well done Bugsy.

Today at 34 weeks I have severe back pain, minimal sleep, lots of uterus tightening/Braxton Hicks contractions, and the occasional flash of childbirth images floating in my mind. It is becoming real. To celebrate this 34-week milestone, me and my visiting girlfriend from London went to a teeny-bopper shop and tried on teeny-bopper clothes. She went nuts when she saw me in my tight rock-chic tee-shirt (bearing my underbelly) and unzipped tight crop jeans ensemble. It was a real vision.

Went to a Chinese New Year celebration dinner last night. Apparently this year is the year of the Golden Pig. Apparently lots of Chinese couples are fighting to conceive this year just to secure their own little golden piggy. Me and Apeman aren't fussy - all we want for Christmas is a healthy, happy baby. With Poopee being a golden piggy is a bonus.

She is already the apple in our eyes.

Halfway through the dinner we were told there will be a dragon dance performance. Loud drums banged through the entire time, so I was a little worried about Poopee's reaction to the commotion outside her safe home. She stopped wriggling for a few minutes, but once she got used to the noise outside, she started to kick her feet (against mommy's stomach) to the rhythm of the drums. I rubbed her bottom gently to soothe her.

I looked over across the table and saw my mother watching me. She had a wide grin on her face. Her attention was on me rubbing my baby. It was a nice moment between me and my mother, afterall she was there for me after all my failed IVF cycles.

Life as it happens

I hauled myself to my local McDonald's this morning for my weekly hotcakes sloshed with hash browns sloshed with hot chocolate binge.

As I sat down with my big breakfast, it occured to me that the next couple of weeks will be the last of my lonely carefree days. Possibly the next time I want a sit-down morning breakfast at McDonald's, I will have to consider my baby's needs, her mood of the day... etc ..amongst other lovely little baby things I will need to consider. I also realise that the `just the two of us' lonely days between me and Apeman may soon be over, or at least be different. Throughout this pregnancy I have not seriously considered what life will be like post baby - because I was too worried about the pregnancy. As per John Lennon's most famous phrase:

`Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.'
Instead for me it reflects:
`Pregnancy is what happens to you are busy worrying about everything.'

It is not that I am not prepared for motherhood - oh GOD I totally am. I have been wanting to be a mom for such a long time, I cannot wait to have my little bundle of joy in my arms and care for her, and be her everything. It is just that I have been so worried about the pregnancy I have forgotten to enjoy (at the very least) the last days of our single-married life, just to treasure the things we normally take for granted. Like going to the movies anytime we want to, or to go to bed whenever we want and sleep however long we want.

Today during my meal at McDonald's, an old Chinese lady came up to me and spoke to me in her language (as I later worked out that it was in fact Beijing Mandarin, which is alot more intense than ordinary Mandarin). I realise the reason she came to me for help was because I am Oriental myself, and she thought maybe I could understand her. She seemed really distressed and later she brought her husband to me (who was using a walking cane and appeared alot older than her). Unfortunately I could not understand a word she said (Mandarin is not my forte), but from what I gathered they caught the wrong bus, and was left stranded in the middle of nowhere. Sadly due to their language problem nobody could help them. After much fumbling and hand gestures (her husband was able to utter a few English words), they gave me a phone number to call, which turned out to be a local Asian community association. I was able to speak to the lady at the reception and we used her our translator. The receptionist explained to me their situation as recounted by the older gentleman, and she asked if I could drop the old couple off at a nearby petrol station, and there I was to contact an associate of hers so he could pick them up.

I did and when their ride arrived, the old lady held my hand and thanked me. She said `good, good' and pointed at my belly. I think she was trying to say something nice about my baby. It was that instant my baby decided to kick in response. I nearly cried. I am not sure why, maybe something to with the older gentleman reminding me of my passed grandpa, or maybe it was just a nice moment. Whatever it was feels good.

The 32 Week Non-Event

Unborn Poopee's Gestational Age: 32 weeks and 3 days
Present: Drew & Apeman
Location: Ape-Land Bathroom
Evidence: A single stained Carefree panty-liner - breathable and unscented - stained with a questionable colour.

Drew: It's brown. I am telling you it's brown. Oh shit I think it looks a little red under this light.
Ape: Looks yellow to me. It's not brown, and definitely not red.
Drew: *Yanking the evidence from Apeman* - Look - it is fucking brown. I think it's a show. Oh fuck it's too early. What is going on? I am not ready yet. The baby can't possibly be coming out right now - it is not the right time....the lungs needs maturing.....gain some weight...it's fucking brown...oh shit.
Ape: Hey calm down. Take a shower first, and don't rush it, take your time and relax, then we will call the midwife okay? I still think it's yellow. It is no where near brown.
Drew; IT'S FUCKING BROWN. OH MY GOD. I am nowhere near ready yet! I haven't even packed my bags yet. I haven't even washed anything, I don't have a birth plan!!!!!
Ape: The shower. Now.

A 10 minute shower, followed by a 10 minute (with controlled inner-calm) conversation with midwife. Was told not to worry, brown discharge is not uncommon between 30 to 35 weeks. Any further coloured discharge or unusual developments to contact the hospital again. In the mean time I should rest up, put feet up at least, and call the doctor first thing in the morning to advice him on this latest development.

The evidence (stained panty liner) was left on display near the basin.

Unborn Poopee's Gestational Age: 32 weeks and 4 days
Present: Drew & Apeman
Location: Ape-Land Bathroom
Evidence: A single stained Carefree panty-liner - breathable and unscented - sadly displayed next to the bathroom basin.

Drew: It's yellow.
Ape: I told you so. You freak.

32 weeks

Often it feels a little freaky. Poopee's movements are very coordinated now. Instead of jabs and sudden reflex movements, she is now doing slow (but coordinated) arms, legs and elbow movements. Last night, as I laid on bed (probably a little too quickly), she wasn't ready for my fast movements so she literally went from one side of my stomach, swwwwwish and toooooink onto the other side of my stomach. It was really cute. Then she thrashed her legs and arms fiercely to let me know - NOT HAPPY MOM!

Lately Apeman's been inspecting my body alot. Not in the dirty way, but he is totally fascinated with my body changes. The boobs are bigger (and a bit saggier, which is strange for somebody with small boobs to start with), the stomach is stretching and stretching, plus I am carrying quite low so he finds that amusing too. He talks to his unborn every night - telling her how much daddy loves her, and how he can't wait to see her face. It's quite sweet. Oh - he told me he misses sex too.

Yeah whatever.

No other major developments except we bought a stroller on impluse (it felt right when we saw it), and I bought myself a nappy bag - my last little bit of luxury before baby arrives. I measure 42 - 43 inches around the stomach, and I haven't seen my pubis-clitoris region for months now. I seem to have zero hair loss (for months - I cannot find a single strand of stray hair on the bathroom floor - or anywhere else).

I have also started to think a little about the birthing process, wondering how we are going to get le-babe out from le-little-hole. It's scary but I will worry about that once I stop worrying about carrying le-babe in le-utero.