More kicking

I was out of the country since Monday for work, only to get back last night. The wee one is definitely stronger now. I could feel her move before, of course – I've written enough about that here. But in the time I was away, movements are much more forceful. Last night I was a bit surprised and thought maybe something was wrong. But she's still at it today, so I don't think it's anything but her getting stronger.

It's weird. I notice things for the first time and thing wow, that's neat, only to be completely eclipsed in magnitude some time later. Several weeks ago, I finally managed to hear a faint fast heartbeat by putting my head to the wife's belly, and I thought wow, that's what they must mean when they say you can hear the heartbeat. It's really hard – it could be anything. Then starting last week when I put my head on the wife's belly the heartbeat has been clear as a bell, really easy to find and obviously a baby's heartbeat. This new movement is real. Before was just fluttering and shifting. Now she's really kicking and pushing.

The secret language of parents

I've been watching documentaries on birth and breast feeding. I'm finding I have absolutely nothing in common with these people. While it's theoretically interesting to know that a twenty-ish year old pregnant girl has body and self-esteem issues, it really does not add any insight into my life considering I live with a mid-thirties woman who is completely comfortable in her skin and knows what all her parts are supposed to do. That I could not see myself ever even having a conversation with any of the people on those shows.

On the other hand, I meet people in the real world who have kids, or are going to have kids, and we talk about it for ages. It’s not like it’s a secret language between parents. It’s more that everyone has so much stuff to say about conception, pregnancy, birth, kids etc etc that if someone says they're willing to listen, a floodgate opens a whole blatherfull of words come out. Besides, when talking person to person it is far easier to steer the conversation on the interesting parts.

Those parts do seem to be only be of interest of parents or expecting people. I suspect anyone else listening in would only hear baby repeated incessantly with the occasional poo and feed.

On a similar note, certain terms which also happen to be birth-related jargon seem to jump out at me and take their alternate meaning. Things like show and labour. And the song Express Yourself has taken on a whole new meaning.

Now we are reading

Quiet. It's been a while since I’ve posted. I've been rather busy. The job ended up not going all wrong. I was at risk of redundancy, but ended up moving to a completely different business unit that has nothing at all to do with the pit of despair my old job had become. The new job actually means doing things I'm good at and enjoy and seeing what I do have positive results.

The downside is that, by the time I get home I’m knackered, and have no interest doing anything with a computer. So blogging has kind of fallen by the wayside.

That and this bloody cold which won't end for two months now. It's faded out and come back so many times now. I'm finally on antibiotics, and I appear to be getting better now – we'll see if it keeps this time.

For the first few weeks of the cold, I tried avoiding the wife so I don't pass on my cold. But after I while I realised that if she's not got it by now, she's not going to. So I'm a bit more comfortable being around her, but I'm still a bit wary.

By the way, it's a girl.

We found out in week 12 and got confirmed in week 21. But I never go around to posting about it. I don’t see any reason to keep anyone in suspense anymore.

In other news, I've taken up reading to the wee one. I've figured that babies-in-utero have ears, and they should work. And I'd like mine to recognise me at least a little. The baby is bound to bond with the wife – everything about her is familiar. I'd like some baby-bonding with me, and the only way I can think to get through is by talking. So I read. Mainly fairy tales. It's practice, you see. However, with the cold, reading hasn't been so easy, so I've not done it much lattely.

Last night the wife pointed out research that says exactly what we thought and that babies do recognise sounds from when they were in the womb. So, with my cold at a lull, I started reading again. But this time I decided to be practical and read sections of the UCLH guide to their pregnancy services (a booklet in dire need of a copy editor – there are soooo many grammar and stylistic errors in there). After all, we're going there so we need to know what's in store for us.

Since I was reading mostly for the wee one's benefit, decided to change all the pronouns and read directly to her. Stuff like:

You will be thoroughly examined by a paediatrician or midwife or neonatal nurse skilled in examination of the newborn infants, to ensure that there are no unexpected problems and you have adapted to life well. This usually happens before you leave the hospital and is done in the baby clinic on the ward. If your patients choose to go home before you are examined you will be given a time to return to the hospital to be examined, this should normally occur within 72 hours of your birth.

After all, the little one needs to know what she's getting in to.

Ten weeks to go.

There's a heartbeat

Every week we read together the various guides' descriptions of what week x holds in store for us. The week 27 description said we should be able to hear the heartbeat with a stethoscope. I decided, sod that – I'll try the ear-to-belly approach.

Success! I think I got lucky. The wee one must have been back-to-belly or something. It was the fast-beating heart I was used to hearing from the sonograms without the mechanical sounding enhancements. It sounded like a very fast beating – just like listening to a heart in a chest, only quieter and faster.

I did check that the sound was localised. I couldn't hear it elsewhere, which means it's more likely a heartbeat than a regularly-gurgling digestive tract. It really was quite exciting. It's like feeling the first kick. It's just one of those milestones that reminds you that, yes, she is pregnant and, yes, a baby is coming.

We do still occasionally get shocked by remembering that we're having a baby. And I realised today it's not likely to stop anytime soon. The wife pointed out today that in ten years we'll still probably be shocked that we have a ten-year-old. At least, for now, it's a pleasant shock, like remembering you have an unopened pint of icecream in the fridge on a hot day.

Breastworks

I didn’t even know a pregnant woman could get mastitis. Turns out anyone can at any time, male or female. The wife came down with it a few days back. Just a small lumpy red spot on a breast. All the details sounded like mastitis (which a new-mum friend of ours has right now, so I'm a bit up to date on the symptoms), but I thought, no way – you can only get that when lactating.

We looked it up in the Pregnancy Bible. The photo and description matched, but I was still dubious til the wife came home from the GP saying Yup. Mastitis. 5 to 7 days of stinky penicillin will be my friend. (Or something to that effect, she doesn't really talk like that). And that's when she explained that anyone can get it, or, more specifically, I could get it, it's just most common in lactating women.

So the antibiotics seem to be having an effect. And since she noticed it very early, there's been very little pain and discomfort. It's better to have it now than after the kid is born, since her breasts are only in casual daily use, rather than hard-core dietary use. But I do worry that this just means she's prone to more mastitis later.

But, it turns out, that is part of my job – to worry about absolutely everything that can go wrong so she does not have to. We both have our burdens – she has to grow and stretch and keep her armoured uterus safe. I have to imagine everything nasty that can happen. Let me tell you, it's not the funnest job, and if it weren't for the little one's reassuring kicks, it could get depressing. It has its plus sides, since I occasionally do know what to look for, like with the mastitis, when she gets it. I hope this prepares me sufficiently for the actual birth. Or perhaps I'll just be terrified of all the unlikely things I know which can go wrong, like I was the first time she had surgery. We'll just have to see.

The effect of music.

We went to a festival recently with lots of people we don't see very often. For most of them, this is the first time they've seen us since finding out. For others, this is where they found out. The wife wore tight clothes to especially show off her state.

The best reaction was one person, who, once she realised, stood there, mouth open, pointing and saying Aaaaaaaaaaa!

Most people secretly wondered, but did not ask until we (or someone else) broached the issue. All of them had a story about a time they'd gotten it wrong and are now very reluctant to ask.

We went out to one club night. The music was good, but it might have been too loud. The little one started squirming quite a lot, so we decided to go home. No idea if the music was annoying, uncomfortable, or if the wee one was actually really enjoying it. I can live with a bit of short term resentment on the off chance it was actually enjoying it and dancing – I'm sure foetal grudges aren't too long.

We looked up the effects of loud music online afterwards and came to the conclusion that no one has the slightest idea. Great. There goes the ability to have guilt-free fun on nights out for the next few months. Then again there was little complaining from the little one during the actual gigs we saw – only the club night.

I've decided to make an in utero playlist of music to play up until birth. The genres range from classical to current pop. No children's music. We can play loads of that after the birth. This is all interesting sounding music, that, at best will give the wee one something to listen to and stimulate all those forming neurons. At worst, I’m hoping it'll install an a priori liking for music we like.

I'm still editing and trimming the list down to remove all the really fast music. I don't want it to come out a hyper little bunny.

Another discovery: before, conversation would orbit around baby and baby things. Now conversation pulls over a chair squarely into the middle of baby, sits down and makes itself comfortable, pausing only to fetch a footstool so it can go the long haul. I don't mind talking about the pregnancy, the forthcoming child, or anything of that sort. In fact I rather enjoy it. I've learned that parents seem to love gushing about their offspring, and I'm not an exception (though, to be honest, there's nothing to actually gush about yet, unless you consider the ability to wriggle gushworthy). All that said, I do like talking about other things. I am still me after all.

Another whinge on the war against children

Starting Wednesday the Tories are decimating the childcare voucher benefit. Today it is £243 per month a parent can get tax free. Come Wed it will be £124 a month. Anyone already part of a work childcare voucher scheme can get the £243 rate for as long as they have children under 16. Anyone with their first child born on 6 April 2011 or later will be stuck with the lower rate forever.

I'm not quite sure I would go as far as to call this grossly unfair, I would say that it's annoying as hell. Yet another benefit that disappears from under me while my forthcoming child gestates. I can imagine, years later saying While you were in the womb, the Tories deprived you of literally thousands of pounds of benefits, all the while raising the cost of education thousands of pounds. And all this occurred in between when you were conceived and when you were born. It seems like Tories only want people to get off to a good start if it's inherited.

The timing of all this is amazing. They could at least have a 9 month delay so that people who were intentionally breeding would at least get a chance to know what they were getting into. Anyone who actually bothered to sit down and do the maths and found that, yes, they can afford to have a child is now thoroughly screwed.