Week 14, Day 6 (Bellies that go bump in the night)

I wasn't expecting to feel Tadpole doing her kickboxing just yet. I figured we'd be much further along the track, ie about 20 weeks or so, but when I saw our midwife last week she said it could happen any time now. "That's nice" I thought, and immediately forgot all about it.

Last night we were quietly watching TV and I felt what I initially thought was a bit of a digestion rumble. But then it happened again. And again. "Hmmm..." I thought, "I don't recall eating anything gassy for dinner..?"

I rested my hand on my belly and was astounded when under my hand came the faint but unmistakeable flutters of something definitely not related to dinner! What an amazing feeling, I wanted to laugh, cry and hold very still. (I defy anyone to do all three simultaneously!) Taddy belted around there for about ten minutes, and it wasn't just her feet smacking my insides around, there were times I felt 'jabs' from two spots at once, meaning she's getting busy with that left hook again.

Then Taddy took a wee rest, and I grudgingly returned my attention to the book.

Half an hour later she started up again! This time she carried on for another five or so minutes almost non-stop, and my laughter must have finally rocked her off to sleep. Oh man.. we're going to need to be very well rested before this child arrives, if she's as demonstrative on the outside as she is on my insides!

I met with the SmokeChange counsellor yesterday, which is a very major concession for me... I'm so not a joiner. Anything that remotely smells of a support group sends me screaming in the opposite direction, but this is for Taddy (and I suppose Wayne too!), so I made myself keep the appointment and go with an open mind.

The counsellor was very nice, and not a bit touchy-feely in any way which was a major relief. No buzz words or pseudo psychology anywhere, and the very clever girl got me off to a brilliant start by giving me a look at the birthing room at Lincoln Hospital before we started. Smart cookie.. get me interested, remind me why I'm really here, then get down to business. I like you already ;-)

(Hey that birthing room is amazing! Picture a five-star hotel room with only a few differences; vinyl floor instead of carpet, flexible hospital bed, and sterilisation equipment instead of a minibar. Decorated in a feminine but not flowery style, view out to garden (one-way windows!), deluxe en-suite with large spa bath, and a small lounge just across the hall. I soooooo want to have Taddy there!!!) (No, NOT in the small lounge across the hall, smart ass!)

Anyhoo, two hours later (!!) we emerged grinning and my confidence and resolve was much higher than when we went in. Yeah, I think we can do this :-) No sense at all in just 'cutting down'.. I've been there too many times and I always slip back, so it's going to have to be all or nothing. As I do not want my child brought up in a smoking home, the decision is easy.

Carrying it out might be a tiny bit harder.. (the addict is panicking already but if you lend me a big stick I'll whack her into submission).

I've decided that in a month's time I will be smoke-free. Apparently I may be able to use patches; despite the fact they do contain nicotine, at least they remove the carbon monoxide (plus many other nasties) from the withdrawal process, so that could be a good option. Don't like patches though.. however if all else fails I may have to go that route.

All in all, I'm feeling great, Taddy is thriving, and all is right with the world. I am so looking forward to seeing her in better detail at our next scan in a few weeks time. I want the 3-D scan available only at Chch Women's, because the clarity and detail is a thousand times better than the ultrasound scans. One thing they won't be able to tell me is the colour of her eyes. I'm hoping like mad she gets my eye colour (dark smoky green with gold flecks), not the ubiquitous blue that runs in both my gene pool and her father's. Grey would be nice too, unfortunately brown is out of the question, and thus hazel.

Wayne's just hoping she doesn't inherit my feet (flat with squashed maggot toes). I second that worthy wish!