Max

Our beloved Max passed away last night after a very sudden complication with his bowels, and two surgeries conducted as a result of that. His bowels apparently twisted severely, possibly from a genetic disorder, causing him excruitiating pain.

We are not taking it well at all. We miss him so much. Our house is never the same again with our favourite son. I still look out at the backyard and expect him to run towards us urging us to play ball with him.

We love you Max. Mummy miss you very much. Thank you for being there for every single heartache we suffered the past few years. It was a pleasure to have you as a part of the family.

Vomit

I am not a particularly bitchy person. I don't ever hold grudges against anybody - if I ever get angry enough to hate a person - it usually lasts as long as my short term memory - which is pretty short.

But right now, at this moment, I really want to yank my mother in law, by the head, and throw her out of my house.

Poopee became sick a few days ago. It was as per the doctor diagnosed - a common cold. As soon as she found out Poopee's sick, she nearly ramped her SVU into the post box on my driveway, creating skid marks, just to see Poopee. She threw me an angry look and said, `Is your daughter sick?' - as if its entirely my fault and my failure as a mother. When she saw Poopee - she was like, `Oh my God! You poor thing, don't worry grandma's here, you must be in a lot of pain you poor thing.'

I had the scary urge of doing that yank hair throw out of house thing.

Before I had a chance to do so - she had a go at me for taking her out to dinner the previous night, which, I must add, it was a dinner she participated in as well. Her sons wanted to take her out to dinner, and she didn't exactly turn the opportunity down. She said Poopee's now sick because we were `greedy' for restaurant food.

I don't know how to react to that comment except to say well then, we won't go out again at night for dinner. It's difficult - the typical reaction to that comment should be a stern `GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE'. But in my case, due to Apeman's closeness to his mother, it is difficult for me to have such a big reaction towards his saintly mother. It will cause a certain marriage rift. He has, on many occasions, tell me I should tell his mother exactly how I feel, but how can you? This woman doesn't listen. At times she is happy to humour me and do what I told her to, but eventually revert to what she feels is best. Other times she will speak down to me as if I am retarded. And anyway, how can I use Apeman's version of `stern language' and tell his mother where to go? She's bound to get upset and therefore causing troubles between me and Apeman.

I should be at my happiest. And I am in some ways. I look at my girl everyday and see that beautiful face of hers and wonder - how can we be so damn lucky? But lately, with my mother in law visiting us nearly every day (now that she has a reason to - Poopee), and spending up to four hours with us - watching us eat (she won't eat anything I cooked and look at what I cooked with an amused look), hogging Poopee, watching TV with us, talking to Apeman as if I don't exist - I feel like I want to vomit everytime I hear her car pulls up at our driveway. I want to throw her out even before she has a chance to get into our house. But I can't.

She makes me so unhappy. She makes me feel so unworthy sometimes with the things she say to me. And when I tell Apeman about it - he tells me its just the way his mum speaks. But it hurts. Everytime.

I must sound pathetic to you. I can't even stand up to this person in my own house.

Amusingly, she even told me I should stop breastfeeding Poopee when she was four months old. I found out later that it's because she expects me to return to the workforce and she will take over the full time care of my precious beloved. So it is easier for her for Poopee to be on formula.

This is one thing I can promise - not over my dead body will she be caring for my daughter.

The Passports

I can only write this quickly as Poopee is currently strapped unwillingly to her $14.95 stroller. From the gibberish baby noises she is making, it sounds a bit like `THIS IS SO NOT COOL MUM.'

We received our passports via special delivery today. I had to renew mine, and Poopee needs a spanking new one. Just want to say the way they want you to be photographed is plain crap. No smiles, no smirks, no sideway flattery shots (as per Mariah Carey who always gets photographed from her right hand side because its prettier). Me and Poopee ended up looking like constipated prison escapees with no soul.

Poopee still managed to look like a doll though. :)

She turned five months...

This time last year I was hoping and praying. I was probably sitting in the hospital emergency room waiting to be seen by a doctor due to first trimester spotting.

Today my baby girl turns five months.

Happy fifth month birthday darling. Mummy is so incredibly proud and grateful to have you wake up next to me every morning.

Strike Two

My mother in law yesterday decided that it is necessary to visit twice a day just to get enough baby time with Poopee. She has been asking me lots of questions lately about (me) returning to work etc. I never even hinted to her that I want to return to work.

She walked into our bedroom, looked down at our (sound) asleep Poopee. I decided to leave her alone so she can watch Poopee in peace. Within seconds, I saw her coming out of our bedroom with a (now) awoken Poopee in arms. She always does this. She comes over, and wakes my Poopee up just so she can play with her.

It's fine if she is here once a week or something. But twice a day does not give her the right to wake my baby up whenever she wants. She is a supposingly experienced mother herself, she should know better than to wake up a sleepy baby, especially since it has taken me more than an hour to put her to sleep.

I don't know if I should lose it with her. I am fucking angry.

The sign

One day we took a small trip to the local shops. As we stopped at the red light, I looked behind to check on Poopee, I saw her spikey haired head bobbing up and down, making baby gurgling noises that was music to my ears. Then I saw the BABY ON BOARD signage stuck to the rear window of our SUV.

That reminded me years ago, right after my second or third IVF cycle failure, I was dragged to a Baby-Pregnancy expo by a non-friend. A stall selling child restraint gear was giving those signages out for free. A woman handed me one as I walked past, I accpeted, and tucked it in a bag full of Ribena drinks I purchased that day.

We moved house twice since then. The signage travelled with us. It was moved from one drawer to another, tucked in a box, thrown away twice, retrieved and cleaned again, and eventually was lost in a pile of infertility collectibles including DVDs from specialist fertility centres from the US, my glory ovaries photos, my surgery photos, my IVF bills.

Right after the birth of Poopee, when I was cleaning up the room for her, I found this signage. I finally have the opportunity and legit reason to use it. I have a baby. In a car. With me.

Poopee and I came a long way. Though she's only four and a half months old, I feel like I have known her forever.

We Fend for ourselves...

Apeman left us to go on his first business trip since the birth of Poopee.

It's tough, but since I do most things for Poopee (apart from the odd nappy change during the night by Apeman), it isn't anymore difficult when he's not around.

But the loneliness gets to me. Not having an adult person to talk to at the end of the day to share Poopee stories is tough. Can't go out either. That killer flu is going around in Perth at the moment - so better not risk it by taking Poopee out.

Was so excited today, because Poopee was lying in her portacot, and suddenly I saw her trying to lift herself up (a bit like doing a sit-up). It was so cute and hilarious at the same time, a real shame Apeman's not here to see it. My Poopee lights up my day by giving the biggest toothless grins, and she giggles, really giggles whenever she sees my boobies.

Oh - and she recently learnt how to kiss me. When I lean over her for a kiss she opens her mouth to receive me. Moments like these makes me want to freeze it and keep this memory forever and ever.

My Sweetness

Poopee was conceived around this time last year.

Wow.

Sitting up with some support from Apeman.

My little eskimo.

I simply cannot stop kissing her and holding her. So much. So much that I need to have physiotheraphy for my wounded wrist (for constantly holding this 7kg love-heart of mine).

Look Ma - no hands!

In my own little retarded world of breastfeeding, whenever Poopees calls for a breastfeed in public, I feel like I need to proof to the world that I can do it PROPERLY like everyone else.

I have joined a mothers' group in a local community centre, spending a few hours a week with some other groovy mums. Sometimes I have to breastfeed Poopee just to calm her down. I see other mums in the group doing it oh so graciously. It was baby on one arm, top up, latch on, and moments of peace soon after. Just like the movies.

For me and Poopee it was lots of awkard cradling and wrestling (since we don't have a cushion with us), me flashing my full boob at everybody, me holding Poopee in an ultra contorted awkard position, Poopee trying to latch on, me accidentally pulling her off my nipple because I was loosing grip, me grimacing with pain, Poopee with the loudest suck in the room - it was SLURP SLURP SLURP.... followed by a loud burp and fart.

It was all in good fun. Me and my girl rocks the mothers group.

Speechless

What is wrong with people these days?

Just a week after Baby Catherine was abandoned, another new born baby girl was left wrapped in towels, on the doorstep of a church. She suffered from hyperthermia due to the cold (I get teary just thinking of the little tinker left in the cold to fend for herself).

Then the unspeakable happened, just a few suburbs away from mine, a dead baby boy who was only days old was found in the rubbish tip. His mother had thrown him out like trash into the household rubbish bin. The authorities haven't released any details as to how the baby died, but they are appealing for the mother to come forward.

And here we are, women who have problems with fertility, battled years of IVF and hormone treatments and suffered numerous heartaches, trying to have that miracle baby at all costs - whilst other people are throwing them out like trash. Sure, I have sympathy for people who under their own circumstances cannot bring up a child and felt the need to give the child away, but if people are knowledgable enough to have sex, unprotected sex for that matter, they should be knowledgable enough to make a wiser decision about how to handle an unwanted baby. There are proper adoption routes they can take, and community is available - you don't just leave a baby out in the cold, or to simply throw them out. I hope the little baby boy did not suffer, I really, really hope so.

Poopee has just started to make her first baby gurgling sounds. She loves a good conversation with me, and even watch TV with me together. I feel so blessed to have her, everyday.

Baby Catherine

Stories about abandoned babies certainly tugs my heart strings. This one more than ever.

I read an article from WHO magazine on Baby Catherine recently, there were two pictures of the beautiful little baby. Her baby features are so similar to my own Poopee (despite being from a completely different race), but still, looking at her baby lips and eyes, baby cheeks...made me cried.

She will never know the comforts of suckling from her mother, to be loved and held because she was wanted and needed. She will know eventually when she grows up that she was left in a cardboard box on Mother's day. Just the thought of that makes me teary.

I pray hard for Catherine to be fostered by the best of families, to have somebody to love her so much that love words will be whispered into her ears just like I do to my own.

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. :)