Weeks 14 – 17

Only three weeks late with this one! *fistpump*

Here’s a round up on what’s been going on at the start of my second trimester. FYI, this is meant to be the good bit of the pregnancy, between oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-vom-in-a-bucket and oh-my-god-I’m-so-fat-I-can’t-get-my-shoes on.

Toddler vs Tuppaware cupboard

Toddler vs Tuppaware cupboard

Scans!

With Billy, I had my 12 week scan at 12w5ds, and they moved me forwards a week to 13w5ds. This time round, we had our scan at 12w5ds, and guess what? They moved me forwards to 13w5ds. I am consistent with my baby growin’. This time round I looked more closely at the centiles chart and a 8cm long foetus is 13w5ds if it follows the 50th centile line. However, if it’s following the 90th centile line, it’s 12w5ds. We all know this baby is going to be born the size of a toddler, so the 50th centile is probably a bit optimistic. In my eyes at least, they shouldn’t have moved me forwards a week. But still, everything else this pregnancy will be judged on those days, so I should probably stop ranting. Bored yet? OK, good.

Now I’ve got that off my chest, here’s the good stuff:

13 week 5 day scan

Would it be biased to say that’s a pretty cute foetus?

When I was pregnant with Billy, I became aware of a theory called “Angle of the Dangle/nub theory”. In a nutshell, babies around 12 weeks have the stub of their tail left over from when they’re all tadpole-ish. Sometime between now and then, I seem to have become a bit of an authority on sexing babies from their 12 week scans. My friend Lucy sends me pictures of her friend’s scan pics and informs me I have 100% success rate.

Kid has strong selfie game

Kid has strong selfie game

So I was pretty excited about seeing our scan and seeing if I could uphold my title. I kept my eyes peeled during the scan and on the photos but sod me if I couldn’t even FIND a tail, let alone judge the angle of it. Sad face.

Also this month, Neil took me out for dinner. I ate all of this, including the gravy boat of melted garlic butter.

Also this month, Neil took me out for dinner. I ate all of this, including the gravy boat of melted garlic butter.

Moans! (or lack of…)

This time, last pregnancy I did a LOT of moaning about my sore coccyx, general backache, nose bleeds, legs cramps and the like. BUT, this time round, I have precious little to moan about. Either I know how to hold my posture better, the little bits of pilates I’ve been doing have been doing their thing or the pregnancy gods have been particularly kind to me. I’m sure they’ll get there own back later.

AND, I only have to wash my hair twice a week! *does victory dance*

Yes, I ate all of this too

Yes, I ate all of this too

More scans!

We decided to get a private scan done at 16.5 weeks to have a sneaky peek at the baby and to see if it’s a boy or a girl. Now I just want to make our stance on this clear from the offset. From dipping into message boards, I know that ‘gender disappointment’ is a thing. This pisses me off on a number of levels:

1, Gender is a sliding scale between masculine and feminine. Sex is biologically male or female. DEFINITIONS, PEOPLE.

2. The fact that your child could disappoint you before they are born makes me really sad. The fact that children can be a disappointment to their parents full stop is pretty grim.

3. Last but not least, more often than not, this comes with some very loaded assumptions and value judgements about what it means to have a son or daughter.

*climbs back down off soapbox*

My favourite cocktail bar makes a mean Virgin Porn Star.

My favourite cocktail bar makes a mean Virgin Porn Star.

We didn’t want to find out because we hoped the outcome was one flavour or another, but we had broached the subject of the ‘baby in Mummy’s tummy’ to Master Bill and thought it might make more sense if it was a little boy or a little girl in mummy’s tummy. Turns out we shouldn’t have worried, because he also thinks there’s a baby in HIS tummy. Then I made the mistake of telling him the biscuits were in my tummy after I ate the last one. You could literally see the cogs whirring around his brain. Just to confirm if you ever read this Billy: I didn’t eat the baby.

Post-nap grumps

Post-nap grumps

My money was riding on team blue in any case, and it turns out my lady intuition was bang on the money. I’m well good at this stuff. Two little boys! How adorable. But fast forward a few years and we’ll have two stinky teenage boys, which is ultimately less adorable.

I had this idea in my head before we went for the private scan that it was going to be a bit like going to a spa. There’d be plinky music playing, scented candles lit and it would be all serene and stuff. It was actually like a soul-destroying office with brown carpets and creepy 4D baby pics all over the wall. The scan itself was cool, although they wouldn’t answer any of my questions because they aren’t allowed to as it’s not a medical scan, which was a bit annoying. Not as annoying as the woman who ACTUALLY said “Now wipe that goopy stuff off your tum-tum” in a baby voice without an ounce of irony. I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a headache. For the record: just because I’m gestating a baby doesn’t mean you can talk to me like I’M a baby!

Don’t get me started on the 4D scan bit I didn’t really want. The baby was obviously very comfy tucked in to my placenta, so I do have a 4D picture of him, but it looks exactly like melted cheese.

Next time: even more bloody scans! probably some moaning about new stuff!

15 weeks

This week was mostly characterised by backache, early nights, my husband rocking even more 16 hour days and me getting ready for our holidays.

It was also the week that I got a bit brave and told my boss I was pregnant. To cut a very long, dull story short, we’re in the process of a big restructure at work, and am currently working out a fixed term contract which is due to end just before the baby is scheduled to make an appearance. Applying for your own job doesn’t sound like much fun, but it sounds even less fun when you’re 8 months pregnant at the time.

I was incredibly nervous about telling her, which is probably why I put it off for weeks beforehand. I’m a loud person, I’m confident and I’m not at all shy, but for some reason, this had me crippled. I physically had to work myself up to saying the words to her, and promptly burst in to tears straight afterwards. Not that there was any need to, as soon as I told her, she shrieked with joy and burst in to tears too. She’d assumed I was so nervous because I was handing my notice in, so she was jointly happy for us we were having a little one, and pleased that I wasn’t leaving!

After the cat was out of the bag, I was surprised to find out that my husband wanted to share the news with friends on facebook. We’d previously decided not to post anything on facebook, and I think this was largely down to not wanting to be another couple who post wedding photos, only to post scan photos a few months later. Still, seeing as I’d become so inherently shy about spilling the beans, we thought it might be the quickest and easiest way of letting folks know our news, which lead to lots of lovely messages from people we’d not told face to face yet.

I’ve got mixed views about facebook and the way people use it. I think, used right, it’s a great tool to keep in touch with your nearest and dearest, so don’t understand why it gets so much flack. On the other hand, it’s difficult to navigate politics around ove-rsharing, un-friending, not accepting requests and sharing different content with different people. I’ve not come up with a coherent argument yet, but when I do, it’ll be the subject of another blog post.

Next week: HOLIDAYS!