Week 27, Day 1 (Third Trimester today!)

Hey look at that, we made it to the 3rd trimester!

How totally cool is THAT! Baby's got a very good chance of making it now, and each day is a triumph.

Gosh he's big. Huge. Meganormous even. I caught some zzz's on the lazeeboy last night (too damn tired to get up and go to bed), and as my belly felt hot, I pulled all the clothing away from my dancing midriff and lay there with both hands lightly surfing the shockwaves. After a while baby settled down enough to occasional and mostly fidgety movements, which was quite a change considering the riverdancing he'd been doing for the previous 36 hours (mostly).

Suddenly I became aware (in my half awake state) that a new and interesting movement was going on under my left palm. I pressed down a tiny bit harder to get definition, and realised what I was feeling was a fist opening and closing against the uterine wall, smack under my palm. 'Nah, surely not' I wondered, and 'listened' a bit more closely. Sure enough, it was. Baby had been doing very clear stretches most of the day (home expansion time I guess!), and this was his sleepy continuation of the reflexive pushes.

So I played with the little hand, lightly pushing back and stroking across the area with my fingertips. He woke up a little at that, and responded to the stimuli. We were both pretty tired though so the game didn't last long and we dozed off, mum's hand over his, and my other hand cupping his protruding rump.

It's my belly and bulge, and even I find it almost impossible to believe that I can distinguish contours and body parts through several layers of myself!!! And it's not as if I had abs of steel before I got pregnant (laughs hysterically!!). There's more than a thin coating of fat in those belly layers, so you'd think I wouldn't feel much at all through all that (go on say it) blubber.

But I do, and I'm not the only one. Especially at night, if I lie on my back for a short time (can't tolerate a long time), you can see the 'lay of the land' with amazing detail. Hip, rump, leg, shoulder, arm, head. It's all there, and in enough detail that we can see at a glance what position he's lying in, and whether he's lying on his left or right (preferred) side. Our midwife jokes that soon she'll be able to look out the first floor window of the surgery as I walk across the carpark and judge which way the baby is lying.. and I think she's probably right!

I'm back to scaring myself senseless by reading baby books again, in particular one very interesting book that tells many women's (and men's) experiences of birth. Lots of good info in there when the patterns form (watch out for pain meds that affect the baby, because they can make it hard for baby to wake up enough to feed. Epidurals can give you a monstrous 3-day headache. Tens machines cannot be used simultaneously to a waterbirth, and much more). The reprint version I'm reading was 1995, and a lot has changed since then. Many birth stories happened in the 80's, ie before the NZ system changed to become mother-driven rather than 'pregnant women do as they're told' of the old days.

Weighing up the two styles, you can see just how empowered women became when we were allowed some say in what happens to our bodies and babies. Lots of choices mean some feeling of being overwhelmed, sure, but isn't it reassuring to have facts, choices and rights!

Men's attitudes have come a long way too, and some of the dads mentioned in the book don't exactly cut the mustard these days (and we're only talking a decade or so later, LOL!) I guess some of that be explained in the difference between men and women and pragmatism. Ask a woman what she thinks of the label 'stronger sex' and she'll probably laugh to herself. It can only apply to upper body strength, because in every other way women have the advantage (not that we always care to use it). While my reaction to blood and guts (esp mine) is "yeah well it will wash off, no biggie", Wayne's showing a definite lean to squeam.

Yet this is the guy who unflinchingly deals with cat vomit in the hallway, because his wife's sense of smell is so acute that if she goes near such things, she'll add to the puddle not fix it. You'd think that I'd be the wimp and he'd be the pragmatist, but I guess like most things we take turns at roles. Of course I'm NOT helping.. I found a picture in one of the books that surprised the heck out of even me, and I couldn't resist showing it to him just after he'd finished a meaty breakfast of last night's leftover bangers & mash. (Good thing there was no gravy or tomato sauce, LOL).

I didn't think until after he went slightly peuce that maybe he didn't appreciate my sharing attitude. Poor bugger! I wonder how he'll cope with a nappy filled with poop from a teething baby? Greenly, I expect ;-)