25 weeks

Lots of things make me angry and send me into fits of ranting.  This is exacerbated by pregnancy - if I think of anything that normally irritates me, and stick the phrase "and I'm six months pregnant" in my complaint somewhere, it just has extra gravitas - such as:

- Waiting at a taxi rank when some bloke 20 metres down the road sticks out his hand and gets the cab that would have been coming to the rank, and the taxi stops for him, "and I'm six months pregnant".

- When the bank won't change my billing address for a credit card I rarely use because I can't recall the last time I used it, and that's their stupid security question, "and I'm six months pregnant".

- When you call the salvos to come pick up some furniture you don't want and they tell you they can't disassemble a bed because of insurance, and that you have to do it yourself if you want them to take it "and I'm six months pregnant".

See, it works in all instances.
I don't think pregnant ladies should be the subject of a great deal of special treatment merely because they are creating new life, however one thing I'm pretty firm in my belief on is that people should stand for pregnant ladies in general on public transport.  Especially the people sitting in the special needs seats, everyone else can keep their seats at the back of the bus.  I don't even want a seat half the time, but the fact that every f***er sits there staring at their phones and looking anywhere but at me makes me so angry.  I think I'm going to start taking pictures of people and sending them to the Daily Telegraph or something.  There is no mistaking the fact I am pregnant, and it's pretty much a 50/50 chance that anyone will offer me a seat on the bus.  Really humanity?  Really??  This is the best you can do??  Furthermore - looking up sullenly, while not getting up, and asking resentfully "do you want to sit down" does not a courteous bus traveller make.  Get the f**k up.  One more thing - it's usually women who offer their seats.  Now I'm a modern lady, and I don't want or expect any guy to give me a seat under normal circumstances, but I'm sorry boys, you need to get your cheap polyester suits off that seat, tone down the Brut 33 and get some manners (big shout out to the guy directly in front of me on the 301 bus this morning).
I've been walking in to work and home a lot lately.  I think I'll stick to it.
Anyway, off on our babymoon tomorrow!  Yipeee!
Also, I wasn't just making it up about everyone wanting dragon babies - this article from the WSJ has interviews with people who are getting fertility treatments so they can have dragon babies!

24 weeks

Things (me) have been growing rapidly lately.  Even just looking back on the pics I posted just a couple of months ago I can't believe how much I've grown.  I'm not sure why I'm surprised, but here I am, six months pregnant.

He's been seriously practicing his kick boxing lately. I love feeling him move, it's just hard not to put my hands on my stomach all the time, or tell everyone in earshot that I just got kicked. So mostly I just give in and do both of the above. The last couple of nights he has been *very* active. It's hilarious thinking about this tiny little baby kicking away with some sort of intent (I'm sure there is none, but I'm imagining there is - la la la, I'm keeping mum up, pow, pow).
My focus is gradually shifting to the fact that we are going to have a baby soon, and trying to get ready for that.  Unfortunately, that also entails giving birth, which I need to really start reading up on and thinking about.  We have a doula, which I'm really pleased we did.  She dropped over about 10 books yesterday on birth, so I'll have a look through those and see what grabs me.  I really like the idea of someone being there with us the whole time who knows what they are doing and who has seen it all before.  Even more when they are a trained counsellor and know how to calm down hysterical screaming women in labour.  Sure, I'll be in a hospital and have an obstetrician, but they don't stay with you through your labour, and I really want that extra support, especially if I need it.  I'm trying to be positive about it all though.  Buuuut enough about that.
This week, the Wheaters brought over presents in the form of cute baby clothes!

How awesome is all this stuff???  Ahem, especially note the furry hooded jacket on the right.  IT HAS EARS ON THE HOOD.  Cutest thing ever.



Christmas at the beach

We spent Christmas in a beach house with the team from Wheaterville.  We (Em) orgnised this early on in the year, so much self high fiving (me) was taking place in the lead up to our trip.  And it wasn't a disappointment at all.  In fact, it was perfect.  Nothing too fancy, just a nice beach house, with wooden fish and nautical stripes everywhere (just in case you didn't get you were near the beach).  I can't remember ever having done a quintessentially Australian Christmas like this before - walking on the beach in the morning, having a swim, lazing around reading and watching videos, eating massive amounts of food, chatting, and just chilling out.

We were a bit of a comedy of errors between the lot of us, with each of us becoming sick or injured at some stage, with one of us even needing a trip to the hospital with a nasty burn.  My personal affliction was some sort of gastro bug which took hold on boxing day.  I'm not quite ready to admit that any of the food I ate the day before had anything to do with it, although it does seem the most likely conclusion.

This isn't the best picture, but it's the living room and kitchen of the house (stripes! oars!), with Em, Muz, Josie and Jamie (behind Josie in the kitchen) one morning.

 We were within walking distance from the beach (we still drove), and had amazing views:

 This is my first helping of food on Christmas day.  So many pretty colours!

 Christmas eve we had prawns (I abstained - just like I did from the champagne - sigh) and a whole fish cooked on the BBQ.  The prawns looked so pretty...

 And the Christmas feast on the table.  We made (for four people and a baby):
- glazed ham
- turkey breast (stuffed with pork mince and cranberries)
- spiced pears
- cauliflower cheese
- honeyed carrots
- rocket, feta and pomegranate salad

Despite the Kilcare curse that got us all (except Bunny - phew), it was a great trip, and went by way too quickly.  It also reminded us of old times, when we all used to effectively live together in Perth.  And of course, next Christmas there will be another baby and life will just keep marching on.  But for the Christmas that was, it couldn't have been any better (maybe it could have been better without the gastro).

Weeks 21, 22 and 23

Here's me on Christmas Day (more to come on that shortly), at our beach house, in my new maternity frock - 21 weeks:

 22 weeks:

 And 23 weeks:

I'm feeling good.  We bought the first furniture for little Bruce on the weekend - a cot and a change table - both white.  Found the experience of spending a couple of hours at "Baby Kingdom" totally overwhelming.  So much stuff!  What do I need?  What does it all do?  Thankfully, I can ask lots of questions from my friends who already have kids, and have also done a list of things that I am assured are "essential" baby items.  I don't want to be sucked into the great baby consumer machine, buying things out of guilt and paranoia, so I'm going to (try to) stick with the essentials, and then work out the rest as we go along.
Our Woolies delivery guy told me that this is going to be the year of the Dragon in the Chinese zodiac, which is very good, especially for boys.  He said everyone wants dragon babies, and that they bring good luck.  I liked that.  My little dragon boy.
We have also booked a babymoon for the near future, and because I'm totally spoilt, we are going to.... Qualia.  Yesssssss.  We were going to go somewhere more reasonable, but the hubby reasoned that if we are going to do this, we might as well do it properly.  Ummm, OK!!  If it's good enough for Oprah, I think it will be sufficient for us.  But I will report back.
The dragon boy has been ACTIVE in the last couple of weeks.  He kicks up a storm now, some days he just dances away all day.  Lots of the things I read said it feels like butterflies, but I never got that.  It feels pretty much like there is a 30cm little person inside you kicking you.  Or popcorn.  That is the most accurate description I have read.  Funny how so much baby descriptor stuff relates to food.  In particular, the updates you get each week, saying "your baby is as big as a potato now".  Which isn't the most helpful thing in the world given how much the size of a potato can vary.  And what the hell is a yam anyway?  Apparently the dragon baby is the size of a banana this week - again, I find "29 cm" a little more useful to visualise things rather than just "a banana", but hey, the more things relate to food the better.
Speaking of which, I still haven't had any mad cravings.  I'm kind of disappointed.  I am drinking a lot more milk, especially with Milo, which I used to be mad for when I was younger.  But that's really it.
I went for a swim the other day, and there were a bunch of young girls in the change rooms who were part of a squad and had obviously just finished training.  It made me feel all nostalgic.  There I was, in my maternity bathers, waddling around, but I used to be just like them.  Chatting, borrowing moisturiser, gossiping, fit.  And here I am now. And not that I'm sad to be here, or want to go back, but just listening to these girls made me smile.  I suppose in 15 years they will do the same.