Daddy's Little Girl

I'm not really into "daddy's girls" and "mommy's boys".....personally I like the idea of both parents having a strong relationship with their child rather than the child being wrapped around the finger of the parent of the opposite sex.  Does this really happen a lot?  Is it partly a cultural thing?  Is it partly instinctual?

Growing up I had an equally solid relationship with both of my parents and I knew to try my luck with mom on some things, and dad on others.  I think it's the notion that one parent is the "good cop" that will let their kid get away with anything that I shy away from.  I hope LLC will view Chris and me as equals.

Still, there is no denying that Chris has a real soft spot for LLC.  He loves to "get in her grill" and give her a cuddle, play ball with her, feed her and even attend to her diaper productions.  Last night he arrived home after her bed-time and obviously felt cheated of time with his little lady.  Soon after he disappeared and I when I went to track him down I found him cuddling her on the futon in her bedroom.  This is not the first time he's gone down that route, to which my regular response is, "If she wakes, you are dealing with it!!  Put her back in bed now!!!"

But can I really complain?  No.  (Well, maybe a bit).  But it is lovely to see him so loved up and proud of his daughter.

Also, huge congrats to our friends Family G, who just became parents for the second time today! They now have a daughter and a son so in time will be able to comment on gender dynamics in the family!!

A Day at the Races

A day at the races, or better said, The Race - The 2010 London Marathon.  Bursting with inspirational runners and emotional crowds, this grand race yet again rallied London with a magnetism like no other and proved an exciting day out for LLC and me.  

Two short years ago I finally pulled my finger out and completed the London Marathon after years of running regularly.  In fact, my marathon mission partially contributed to my starting this blog.  It was a real achievement for me and an electric experience but alas, I'm not one of those who "catches the marathon bug" after one under my belt.

This year was Chris' turn.  He's a strong runner with a healthy pace even when he doesn't run regularly; he's gotten into triathlons over the last couple of years; his fitness level is generally pretty good.  Yet I still thought he was slightly nuts to commit to training for a marathon during our early days with LLC.

He needed the support of his girls on the day.  So we bundled LLC into her carrier and she and I took to the course.  We met a lovely Scottish fellow cheering on his wife near the start but unfortunately missed Chris in the initial mad dash.  We then hightailed it over to the Cutty Sark where we cheered on many a runner but again never spotted Chris.  I fed her and we next took the train to Charing Cross and scouted out a ideal viewpoint on Victoria Embankment to "cheer daddy home."  I felt like I had just run a marathon.  My shoulders ached.  Yet I told LLC that we'd definitely catch daddy from this perfect position on the home stretch.

It was about that time that LLC conked out.  She'd been very alert throughout the day but no doubt had her fill of sensory overload.  She slept peacefully through the commotion and the heat of the growing crowd at our back until - bam! - she awoke with an almighty start and went into meltdown.  We were pinned in by people.  And I expected Chris any time in the next half hour or so if he was to achieve his sub-four hour goal.  (Yes, he sets his sights high).  I tried bouncing, ssshhing and stripping a layer off LLC, all to no avail.  The pensioner to my left's stare screamed judgement to the likes of  "Why do you have such a young baby in the heat of this marathon commotion?"

So I pulled out the final trump card in my bag of tricks - my breast.  Down I squatted behind the barrier, out of the carrier and into my arms came LLC, into my jacket I adjusted my top and presto - silent, happy, feeding baby!  Muslin in place, up I popped, back in the game, eyes searching for Chris.

We waited.  And waited.  And I began getting nervous Chris would not make his sub-four hour goal.   

Then my phone rang.  It was Chris.  He was finished.  Somehow we missed him.  Well, not somehow really... from his finish time we worked out that he must have run by just as I was squatting behind the barrier getting my boob out.  

But nevermind.  We supported him in spirit and he triumphed with a finish time of 3 hours 36 minutes.  LLC could not have been prouder of her dad, or of her Uncle Tom who also came home in under 4 hours, as you can see from these photos.  She could not wait to get the weight of gold in her hot little hand!

These portraits are for this week's Sticky Fingers Gallery.

"Do you dance?"

Chris and I sometimes gaze at LLC and marvel that we made her. She’s our small wonder, and I almost can’t think about how a completely chance encounter eleven years ago sowed the seed of her fate. So I bring to you, Chris and my first encounter.

 *
She wasn’t dressed for the club. Donning a gray “girls soccer t-shirt,” sneakers and blue jeans, she wasn’t out to impress. But they were her favorite jeans and she never expected that they’d be going clubbing that night.
*
He was in the midst of revision and didn’t want to go out. Well, perhaps he did but thought he shouldn’t…but since it was D’s birthday he didn’t need too much convincing. So the boys hit the pub and any thoughts of revision were soon thrown back like the shots that they downed in celebration.
*
The pub.

Who knew that pubs closed at 11pm? Not the seven American girls in Plymouth, England as part of their high school international studies trip. Fortunately, they’d found a flyer from a street advertiser for the dance club Rio.

The club.

After wandering for a bit they found it and made their way up the stairs past bulky bouncers and into a haven of bright lights and teen glamour, boos and brawn – the ultimate sex pot.
*
D’s birthday celebration spread into Rio and onto the dance floor. The night was hot; the music a giant heartbeat whose thump thump matched the bouncing breasts of the scantily clad girls strutting their stuff. Not that the guys minded.
*
She bought a vodka tonic with the added satisfaction that she wouldn’t be legal to drink in the States for a few years and scoped the scene with her fellow New Yorkers. Rich cologne and short skirts inundated their senses as they pushed through the crowds.
*
He stood by his mates and vaguely concluded that this was one of those nights where hard work and diligence took a back seat to well earned enjoyment. Sipping his beer, he relaxed into the moment, eyes drifting over the waves of bouncing bums and bulging biceps to rest on a petite girl in jeans and a black tie jacket, long brown hair cascading past her energized smile and down her back.
*
Her gaze swam across the pulsating room until it came to focus on a boy with light brown hair fashioned into a quiff, watching her, in her path. Their eyes locked as she approached and as reached his side, she paused and smiled. Their initial words, failed exchanges drowned by the music didn’t matter until she leaned into him and asked, “Do you dance?”

And then our worlds collided.

This post is for Josie at Sleep is for the Weak’s Writing Workshop.

Big Boots to Fill

I got my first Mother’s Day card on Sunday from LLC. Because I’m now a mom, I really am. 

You might be thinking, duh – that has been what you prepared for through ten months of pregnancy. That has been the bread and butter of this blog. And LLC was born nearly seven weeks ago!

I know. But I still have these occasional lightning bolt moments when I emerge from the hectic sea of my day, draw in air and see my amazing opportunity and responsibility as a mother come clearly into focus.

At three or four years, I remember telling my mom that she could give me a bath forever. At the time she begged to differ but I had none of it. I loved my mom. She brought fun, love and learning to my childhood. We created a scrapbook of leaves; we brought all of my stuffed animals into the living room for a day of play before the fireplace; we read Island of the Blue Dolphins and Anne of Green Gables together; she made us snacks of Doritos with cheese….

My mom has put up with me, in my full glory, for my whole life. An ocean now stands between us but our relationship does not waver. Yes, we argue – back then about things like my refusal to go to bed at night; now about the advice that she offers me that I don’t always want - but my love for her remains a constant and this bond grew from my early days.

I hope to sew similar seeds with LLC so she feels this same love for me. Yet this is when I become too much the thinker. For I expect a child’s heart cannot be strategized over but instead won through living and loving. So out comes Chris’ old adage of “move and use,” aka just get on with what you’ve got and the rest will follow. He’s wise, that husband of mine.

Looks can be deceiving: the My Object Meme

This is my first dabble with memes, inspired by The Dotterel who opened up his meme to the masses... (FYI a meme is when another blogger posts on a topic and then invites other bloggers to write a post on the same topic – I’m finally in the loop after some confusion!)

Anyway, this meme is about choosing an object that tells the story of my family and/or me.

So I’ve chosen my worn and weathered, comfy and cozy, not aesthetically but always emotionally pleasing Russell Athletic sweatshirt. Before you scrunch up your nose or question whether my pregnancy hormones have finally led me off the deep end, I’ll explain.

Chris and I are not chronic hoarders but sporadic hoarders all the same. We both glean significance from a range of random little tidbits like my heart-shaped rock, his House of Lords whiskey and the first hand-written letters that we exchanged while living across the ocean from each other.....

This Russell Athletic sweatshirt stands out from our motley of “special objects,” as a symbol of togetherness, hope and unadorned contentment. More than an old item of clothing, it’s a sweatshirt that holds good memories of past, even when the going was tough and it still comforts me in the here and now.

This sweatshirt belonged to Chris and he gave it to me when I was 19 or 20 and we were in the midst of a long distance relationship. If you’ve ever done long distance, you will sympathize with the overwhelming, stifling emotion of wanting to reach out and hold your special someone’s hand and knowing that it’s not to be for some time. We were both at University, just on different sides of the Atlantic. Not close friends but many others questioned our fidelity and challenged me about pursuing a long distance relationship at my age.

I must have known back then that Chris and I were the real deal, for I never felt threatened by these obnoxious remarks, just frustrated that I wasn’t with my guy. Day in day out, I had a little piece/scent of him in this Russell Athletic sweatshirt. It didn’t matter that it was three sizes too big, worn out and faded – to me it was a piece of Chris, our solidarity, a sign of hope for good times to come. I didn’t wear it out much but it was always there for me to come home to.

Fast forward to the present, the sweatshirt moved back to England with me in 2002 and continues to be a near and dear symbol of the special bond that Chris and I have and that changed my life really. Now that I’m pregnant with the little lady (still pregnant) it’s the perfect size for bump and me to fit into physically, and emotionally its magic and the bond it represents has extended from the two of us to the three of us and the new life balance we are soon to carve out.

If you passed me on the street in my Russell Athletic sweatshirt you wouldn’t blink an eye aside from possibly noting that I am one heavily pregnant lady in a big old sweatshirt. And that’s okay – it just goes to show that the magic for each of us comes in unexpected places.

The One Where My Water's Broke

Nope, this wasn't a Friends episode, this was a My Bed episode this morning when I woke to feel something slippery in between my legs.

I couldn't believe it!  Did my water's break?  Was labor actually about to happen?  I was sure I hadn't wet myself and my leg was damp.  This could only mean one thing...

My heart started to thunder in my chest and I tentatively woke up Chris.  "Chris, I think my water's may have broken.  My leg's wet.  Feel my leg."

Chris isn't a morning person but that got him up in a flash!  "Really?" he gave me a careful look while I shoved my leg towards him.  But then his expression of half shock/half excitement faded as he examined my leg.  "I don't think your water's broke.  If they had there would probably be more fluid and there's nothing on the bed, just this little bit on your leg.  I think this is just sweat."

Say WHAT?  Sweat?!  But actually....that kind of made sense.  I hauled my body out of bed and dashed, alright waddled, down to the bathroom to explore further.   No, I wasn't damp down there.  No, there wasn't any trickle to indicate my water's were broken...just my legs, slightly sticky from rubbing together under my night dress thing.

What an anti-climax I'm telling you.....I wasn't in labor.....I'm just an uncomfortable, nearly 41 weeks pregnant lady with sweaty legs as my big body attempts to regulate its temperature in the night.  Wah.

Baby, look at all the fun you're missing!

Getting out of the house this weekend was extremely therapeutic! After three days housebound due to my ice rink of a road, Chris and I took advantage of the weekend's slightly milder temperatures to go play in the snow. We're really just two big kids at heart - it took a lot of restraint and my burgeoning coat to remind Chris that he can't peg me (and baby) directly with snowballs! These pics were taken 2 days after my due date.

I know it's nice and warm inside me, but look at all the fun our little lady is missing out on! Not one to be left out, she continues to put in some solid kick boxes of her own. I'm also experiencing increase pelvic pressure and little zings in my groin that occasionally radiate down my leg. Nothing, however, is getting longer, stronger and closer together. For as many times as contractions are described to me, I still feel like I'm not going to know when they are actually here because of all these growing sensations. But I'm assured I will know when the show gets on the road. Let's hope it's soon. Thank you everyone for your encouragement and well wishes!

Party Like It's 2009!

Par-tay! Yup, that what Chris and I are doing this New Year’s Eve 2009. Scene of the crime: our living room. Life and soul of the party: Chris post a half day in the office, big blooming me, Rico the cat purring and bump kicking....along with board games, a yummy Mexican dinner and some bubbly. A random mix for a random lady.

Yes, it is the close of 2009 and yes, our celebrations fall nicely in line with our imminent life chapter where New Year’s celebrations are likely to be toned down at notch or two. In all honesty, I’m one of those who sees New Year’s fiestas as often over-rated and overly expensive. I think even our local pub has a cover charge. Whenever too much expectation is placed on one night it often doesn’t live up in reality. Some of our best New Year celebrations have been at home with friends, something that shouldn’t be too tough to integrate babies into.

I started 2009 with my usual “Goals for 20xx” list. I think I had about 20 items on my list. You know I tend to go overboard with the damn lists. Well, I’m not going to bore you with the details of my to do’s aside from to say on the whole, it’s been a pretty productive and life changing year. We have our little lady on the way and I began writing again, a latent passion that I’m pleased has been galvanized by this new pregnancy/parenting phase of my life. Ticking those two items off gives me great satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment.

As two become three, (or four counting little Rico), 2010 promises to be all the more life changing, exciting, challenging and hopefully productive. I feel I have so much more to learn and that I want to achieve in this new life chapter that I better keep my 2010 Goals List short and sweet or it may run a million miles long.
Three major things I’d like to achieve are:

• Have our baby! This is on the cards, and although women may be built as baby making machines, to actually do the deed will be my biggest feat to date. I hope we are able to have our home birth as planned, but ultimately all we want is our little lady, safe and sound.
• Find our new life balance with baby while maintaining our own independence as individuals and a couple, something of a life ethos for Chris and me and a running theme through my blog and soon to be website. 
  
• Launch my new website, which will feature my blog (a journey of my transition to parenthood and chronicle of pregnancy and parenting advice/news/etc from both sides of the pond), a sharp & topical weekly advice bulletin from other pregnant and parent writers (an expansion of mama chat) with real advice to share and a forum for my freelance parenting writing projects. This launch is on the cards for January 2010 once I overcome a few technology hurdles so watch this space! Parent blogging is such a hot commodity on both sides of the pond that my mission often seems daunting but I’m dedicated and hope you enjoy the read. Three social networks I’ve recently joined but can tell will prove invaluable to my blogging journey are the British Mummy Bloggers, Mom Bloggers Club and My Best Birth, where there are countless impressive, creative and real mama bloggers that generously share wisdoms and knowledge about their lives, their birth experience and making headway in the black hole of parent blogging. If you are also an aspiring mama blogger definitely check them out.

Now I better re-join Chris in the living room after this frenzied "close of 09" post! Happy New Year!

"Honey, do you know why I have to flip onto all fours to roll over in bed...?"

Because I have a baby the weight of a honeydew inside my uterus, which is pressing up under my ribs and weighing me down! I'm all for the all fours position when it comes to shifting from side to side in bed.

So I'm 35 weeks pregnant.......5, 4, 3, 2, 1 week to go! I spoke last week about the final countdown being imminent. I feel that countdown has arrived.

I still feel pretty good but look like a house. I'm not overly pleased with this photo but Chris will go nuts if I keep asking him to "take the perfect shot" of me....these days, there IS NO perfect shot :)

Teresa Strasser's I Said a of Things post is fantastic.....although she swore she would be a vain, primped and put together mama who didn't resort to conversations on baby poop, her little boy is now 10 weeks old and she often finds herself milk stained, un-showered and craving motherhood banter and gems of advice. I think her wakeup call is insightful.

Chris and I often discuss how we want to integrate our little lady into OUR lives. We know "she will change our lives" and "things will never be the same;" unlike Teresa, I'm certain conversations about bedtime routines and poop and Baby Sensory will soon be our reality and that in the beginning, our routines and cleanliness will probably be uprooted. Yet, simultaneously, we also want to get out of the house on walks with our little girl; we want to drink fine wine with friends and talk about Obama, the Tiger Woods scandal, the World Cup.... We can't wait to be parents and we are committed to being fine ones, but we want to make time for ourselves, each other and our interests as well as baby focused chat. We're not totally sure how this approach will play out in reality, but we hope to lay the ground for this new life balance from the start of our parenting lives....

On that note, I'm in the process of building a new website, which will soon host this blog along with some of my other parenting writing projects and featured articles from other pregnant and mum writers! This site will also embody Chris and my ethos of embracing parenthood and simultaneously keeping our own identities. Watch this space for when it goes live!

Fruit Photo Credit: Babycenter.com

Dads in the Delivery Room: Delightful or Disastrous?

Today the BBC brings to light French obstetrician Michel Ordent’s view that dads should NOT be in the delivery room during the birth of their children as they are likely to be more of a hindrance than a help in the birthing process. The French doc shuns the notion championed by US doctor Robert Bradley that a husband’s presence during labor provides his wife with much needed support and solidarity. He even suggests that an anxious male partner will make a women tenser and increase her likelihood of ending up with an emergency Caesarean section!

Oh ye of little faith Dr Ordent! While not all men want to be present at the birth of junior (celeb chef Gordon Ramsay for example) there are loads out there who want to actively participate in the life changing experience that is birth to the extent that they can. And although the c-section rate has risen over the last several decades, this is more likely a side effect of our increasingly litigious and medicalized society that features older moms and women who struggle with obesity.

On Babyworld, midwife Catharine Parker-Little suggests that women talk openly with their partners during pregnancy to gauge their true opinions about attending the birth - and not to lay on a guilt trip if they decline. I couldn’t agree more. Rather than make sweeping generalizations about whether men should be in delivery rooms, we need to talk it out with our guys. Do they want to be there? If so, do they want to be down “the business end?” If not, who can better offer moms support?

Chris can’t wait to be there for the birth of our daughter – look at him with Rico – he’s a natural! But since I’m one to lay things on the table, we’ve had the birthing “talk” to different degrees over the course of my pregnancy. I’ve tried to condition him to the idea that he’ll see me in pain, that we’ll both ride an emotional rollercoaster, that he may be subjected to some grim and gore like blood, poop, placenta and stitches.

Yesterday we went to our NHS Labor and Birth ante-natal class that featured a short film showing a labouring woman taking gas and air on a birthing ball. Afterwards one of the husbands admitted that the image made him feel nauseous, and that he was “going to take some quiet times to come to terms with all that labor may entail.” We shared a laugh about this, but props to that guy and his wife for preparing for birth as a unit. He might decide to attend his child’s birth, he might not, but they were in the learning together.

From our chats, Chris is on board and prepared to be my labor partner, coach, advocate and rock. He hopes to cut the cord and be as active a participant as possible, partly why we’ve opted to attempt a home birth.

Tonight we had our first couples NCT class, which also featured the first stage of labor, including the need for a woman to relax and let her oxytocin (hormone of “love” that causes uterine contractions) flow while in labor. As a birth partner, the man is instrumental to this process; if he gets in a flap, it’s likely to kick off his wife’s adrenaline, which counteracts oxytocin production and slows labor. I hope Chris is by my side throughout labor, but learning like this helps us both recognize that it depends how he feels in the moment and if he’s able to give off positive energy in the face of his own apprehensions. If it all gets too much and he needs a breather, we accept that.

So Dr Ordent, you can take your study and shove it! Whether a dad is a birth partner should be an individual choice – not a given but not ruled out either. It’s up to couples to do their research and make the best decision for them.

Pineapple Anyone?!

Oh wait, sorry, you can't have any pineapple because it's in my belly or rather, my uterus.  That's right folks, this week our hefty little one should be weighing in at just over 4 lbs and is about the size of a pineapple.  My spirits raised that my 33 week fruit comparison is one that I enjoy so much; then they dipped a bit when I started picturing myself birthing something the size of a pineapple - and I still have 7 weeks to go if I'm on time!

Here's my 33 week photo - as you can see, bump is blooming more than ever.  I'm experiencing a lot of movement right below breast level.  These must be kicks since she is now in a cephalic, or head down, position according to my midwife at my appointment this afternoon.  This is the preferred position for birth so let's hope that she chills out and stays that way so she can engage in my pelvis with greater ease over the coming weeks.  Fortunately the more she fattens out, the harder it will be for her to shift.

I witnessed an example of how this "pelvic engagement" works at my first NCT ante-natal class this morning a la doll in sample pelvis so this is fresh in my mind as I write.  There are six other girls in my class and I can tell already that I'm going to enjoy them - even though I knew I was not the only one with a million questions, it is comforting, fun and supportive to chat with others at a similar stage of pregnancy in our area.  This morning was women only session and everyone was lovely; next week we have our second meeting and the guys come on board!  Classes like this and more intimate/grim pregnancy chat come a bit more naturally to women in my opinion so it will be interesting to see how all the men fare!  Hopefully Chris will not have the urge to laugh like he did at our home birth talk.

My missions for progress this coming week - start to wash her clothes in non-biological powder for sensitive baby skin (I only just learned that you are not supposed to use biological powder to start with) and pack them away in our newly acquired baby drawer unit and secondly to stop bumping into things.  I'm used to be able to squeeze through tight spaces and I just can't do it anymore without jostling someone or something with my bump!

Babymoon, Baby Steps

I think my 28 week photos were slightly deceptive in that they didn’t showcase my tub-like state in all its full glory. Here are a couple of 29 week pictures taken from Chris and my mini babymoon break near Oxford this past weekend – my red sweater definitely exposes my bump for what it really is!

This start of third trimester baby break was probably our last pre-baby hotel get-a-way and we thoroughly enjoyed it. We stayed a warm and toasty maze-like old hotel set in the heart of the countryside amongst quaint local villages. The water pressure in the hotel shower, unlike the water pressure in my own shower, was surprisingly amazing, and we ate, drank, ambled and explored at an easy pace. If you're ever in the area of Steeple Aston, check out White Lion pub where you can get freshly prepared food in a friendly, cosy and family oriented atmosphere.  The pub's owners were very attentive and we really hit it off when we discovered they'd lived in the USA for almost 20 years!  With baby’s due date quickly advancing, my head is full of “to do” lists and a break like for just Chris and me really did us good. I switched off from planning and feel refreshed for it. Much to my delight, we even fit in some National Trusting at Waddesdon Manor – you may remember that I love going trusting!

Back to real life, vacations complete, Chris and I are starting to take further baby steps towards preparing our home for our new arrival. We have a number of things we want to get accomplished and we’re trying strike a balance between taking on DIY (which truthfully means Chris taking on DIY since he’s more accomplished in this arena than I am) and having builders come in to help us with some final adjustments. We moved into our house in 2005 and it’s been a continual work in progress.

We’ve got a rough “plan of action” of what we want to achieve and we’re taking baby steps toward checking things off our list. Yes, my lists again! Chris tolerates the lists but he’s not as much of a fan – he’s happier to go with the flow but sometimes I get concerned if we do that we’ll flow into January and be rushing around like chickens with our heads cut off at the last minute. So he’s bearing with the lists and me, and I’m taking a baby steps, not unrealistically long list approach to getting prepared in an effort to not stress us out or inundate us.

Today we had new windows fitted in our Victorian terraced home, a major mission accomplished. We can now wave goodbye to pools of condensation on our sills and rest assured that baby will reside in a warm and draft excluded environment.

Chris is also in the process of building shelves in our hall closet so we have more and better storage space. When that job is complete, we plan to start to transfer some things out of what will be baby’s room and to our new closet shelving.

Then we’ll be in a better position to start fashioning baby’s room/our guest room. I look through these baby catalogues and gape at the fully kitted out baby nurseries featured. They look cute, but expensive, particularly bearing in mind that their décor may fit an infant to toddler but not a growing child. We’re not opting for a full fledged nursery but instead a sturdy pine set of drawers (that we've yet to get - I’ve been scoping out charity shops/thrift stores for a more antique style pine set of drawers – many a little gem may be found in charity shops if you’re willing to hunt) that matches the desk we already have in the room and crib we received. I’m sure we’ll get some cute baby linens and paraphernalia but we’re not going for “ABC wallpaper” or a pinked themed room or a baby cd player since our ipod and/or computer can play music just as well. We've found a baby monitor with a night light and thermometer to kill three birds with one stone. We have limited space to start out with so we need to be selective with what items we opt for.  Again the endless choice available can wreak havoc with my mind but I'm learning to consider options and then say enough is enough.

What am I getting at? As we prepare for our little one, we seek advice on what to get and how to “child proof” our house but are trying to stay true to what works for us – our tastes, budget and home – rather than get roped into what’s on the market and what everyone else may or may not have done.  It's easy to stray from this approach but for me, it brings me home, sane, at the end of the day. Now we just need to keep moving and using one baby step at a time...

Let's Talk Therapy

Running late, Chris and I stumble into a cozy living room full of unfamiliar faces. The lighting is soft and comforting and there are cookies on the table. The atmosphere isn’t quite strained but not entirely comfortable either. There is an expectant vibe in the air.

We take our places on the sofa with a sheepish smile and an apology. Smiles and nods abound. Have we been transported into a comedy sitcom? No. Have we arrived for a group therapy session? No again. We’re attending the monthly NCT home birth talk in our area.

By now you probably know I’m interested in exploring home birth and I learned about this class from my area NCT bulletin board. Hosted by a woman who has had 1) a planned home birth that transferred to the hospital, 2) home birth and 3) planned hospital birth, it promised to be an informative and open forum from someone who has been there done that.

I’ve swayed back and forth on the merits of home birth, my main concern being that something may not go to plan that could harm our baby. This has been a major sticking point for Chris, who wasn’t at all convinced by this potential plan. I also had the impression that women often consider home birth for later pregnancies once they have a better understanding of how they will cope in labor and birth. So the pendulum swings between reservations and opportunity, though recently I am moving in favour of going for it. Once got over the somehow amusing shock that we were sitting in a session such as this, we both came away feeling encouraged about home birth for the following reasons:

• UK hospital midwives may care for up to 5 women simultaneously; at home birth you have one dedicated midwife who monitors you throughout established labor
• Hospital transfers can be quickly arranged for any home birth not proceeding as planned; in fact, because of your one to one supervision at home it’s more likely that a midwife will identify any issues “sooner” than she might in the hospital
• If being at home makes you feel more relaxed and at ease, this is likely to speed up and progress your labor, all in the interest and health of the baby
• If more relaxed, there is less chance you will need medical interventions during birth; if you do, the midwife is able to perform an episiotomy, use forceps and give you an injection to deliver the placenta at home
• Home birth is conducive to natural forms of pain relief: TENS, water birth, upright positions and gas and air (no epidurals)
• If you decide you can't cope with labor at home, a hospital transfer can be immediately arranged
• At home your husband/partner may feel less of a spare wheel and better able to get involved by virtue of it being your own home
• After birth there is no risk that your husband/partner will be dismissed from the post-natal hospital ward because it’s outside visiting hours
• Should any sudden, horrible, unfortunate incident occur, it is just as likely to happen in the hospital

Some of these points may be more specific to my area (i.e. we live 10 minutes from the hospital so if we needed a sudden transfer it could easily be arranged; home birth is an available birthing route through the NHS in my area so admin arrangements with the local hospital should a transfer to hospital be needed aren't a complicated issue as could be the case if using a private midwife; there are not the same insurance issues you may run into in the USA where home birth isn't always covered by insurance) but they are all food for thought if you think home birth may float your boat.  I'm not saying it's the way forward for all, but it may just be for me.

Blame My Sweet Tooth on the Little Lady

My previous post, When "Cheers" Become Fears - Alcohol in Pregnancy is being featured in Blog Nosh Magazine tomorrow! View it on the Blog Nosh's birth and adoption channel. Also, if you are a faithful reader but not yet a follower of this blog, please sign up via the link on my sidebar!

I'm now at 24.5 weeks and my baby is the size of an ear of corn. Picture that ear of corn inside my burgeoning belly! Also bear in mind that this picture was taken tonight, post work out at the gym and dinner so it's not the most complimentary shot - I said I look like a worn out whale and Chris says that I look pregnant! Ahhh, but it's late and I'm tired.

Where it really felt like my bump blossomed over the last few weeks it doesn't feel too different from last week to this week. Baby is now almost foot long and just over a pound - she's a pretty skinny little thing but she's soon to flesh out, and this week her brain, lungs and taste buds are developing! Apparently her sweet taste development can bring on sweet cravings - so when I say that "the baby needs this ice cream," she really does! Somehow I'm not sure I can justify my longstanding sweet tooth and tendency toward haribo, hot cross buns and ice cream on my daughter to be's developing taste buds but what a great excuse!

This weekend I took her to her first cricket match where Chris bowled well and took one wicket. Chris is a cricket fiend though this is the first season since I've lived in the UK that he has not played cricket for most Saturdays of the May-September period (yeeha!....did I say that?...for those that don't know cricket, it's an all day sort of game). Being that I haven't been to any of his other one offs this season, I enjoyed watching and explaining the game to bump. I was sitting on a bench on my lonesome next to the pitch, doing some pelvic floor exercises and rotating my ankles for circulation as I cheered on the guys. Chris didn't even see me chatting away to baby intermittently but said the ankle swinging and leg rotations made me look mental enough!

Not that he should talk. Tonight he decided to run our "potential name list" by our bump in hopes of getting a kick, shift, some type of response from baby about her future name. He read through each name on our list, paused for 10 seconds with his hand on my belly awaiting a response before moving on to the next name. Too bad she wasn't in a game playing mood and we got no kicks...either that, or she doesn't like any of our potential names and we are undecided enough already!

"Tub" Trucking at 23.5 Weeks

Chris and his brother have been calling me "Tubs" for some time now. I'm pretty sure it's a nickname given with affection, thus I've not let it damage my self image too much and have overlooked that the name originated from the cannibalistic shop-keeper's wife from The League of Gentleman. But anyway - now, as you can see, at 23.5 weeks pregnant, the name is actually pretty fitting for the little tub at my front.

This week our baby is the size of a large mango. She is ducking, diving and kicking with regularity. I guess she's small enough that there is plenty of room to groove in my womb but large enough that I can really feel her. My weekly Babycentre update says the blood vessels in her lungs are developing in preparation for actual breathing, and at the end of this week she will be considered "viable" for birth (though she'd still need pretty in depth medical support to function). Other developments this week....

A huge shout out is in order to our fab friends E&L who are also expecting and due just about 10 weeks after us!! It's really exciting to have another good friend jump on the pregnancy bandwagon at the same time. E&B have been so helpful to me with their pregnancy tips and chats and I hope I can be of similar support to L on her journey. I'm sure we'll have plenty of insights to exchange - very exciting!!

Friday I had my third midwife appointment and was re-introduced to the kind and calming midwife that I met at our hospital open night a couple of months ago. She confirmed that "all looks in order" and our missy's growth is on track. I also spoke to her about my interest in natural birthing and exploring home birth. She suggested Chris and I attend the home birth night at our hospital next month to learn more; she was very encouraging, not at all dismissive or judgmental, and made me feel at ease about exploring our options. I'll keep you posted on what I find. But all around, it's all go!

Speaking of "going," every time a pregnant lady has a midwife appointment, you need to bring a urine sample in a little test tube thing so they can check your pee for glucose and protein. Being that peeing in a cup, or tube, has become a popular pastime by default, you'd think I'd be a bit better at it! Does anyone else have issues peeing in a cup or am I the only one with a sheepish hand raised here?! When I had my booking in appointment at the doctor they literally gave me a huge beaker to pee in that I couldn't fit between my legs. That led to some cool half squat crouching moves.... Now I need to regularly pee into this small test tube thing that is challenging with my urinary aim or lack thereof. Once I do hit the jackpot the tube fills really fast and is prone to splashing out at me. Gross. Maybe this is TMI, but I'm hoping I'm not the only one who has been embarrassed at the hands of this ritual!

Enjoy the 23.5 week close ups!

"Hey bus driver, what's your name?......That's a disgusting name, I think I'm going to throw up!"

Don't hold back dude, tell us what you REALLY think! I was in kindergarten when a naughty five/six year-old boy delivered this shocker to our school bus driver. The quote stayed with me for its daring rudery, but I was just a kid at the time and I wonder how this bully in the making's deadpan honesty and innocent but gaping lack of tact left that poor bus driver. Did he want to laugh at his feisty gall and deliver a gentle scolding, write him off as a "silly young kid with a thing or two to learn about politeness but hey, at least he doesn't have issues expressing himself" or did he want to get back to basics and give this youngin' a good ol' spanking?

Fast forward to the present and this boy would probably be named Jack or Callum, names identified by a Bounty survey of 3000 school teachers published earlier this week, as warning signals for a particularly naughty child. This poll revealed that one in three teachers 'expect' kids with certain names to be particularly naughty and that 49% of teachers make a judgement call about a child when they cast their first glance across their register in September.

Ahh, the pressure in choosing a good name for your child. Whatever THAT means. Does it mean it doesn't top the naughty name survey list OR that it lays the ground for future popularity.....what about when a name is not mutually exclusive like Jack, and appears in the top ten on the naughty and popularity list? (It's worth noting that Jack is currently the most popular UK boys name so odds are in favor of it topping a number of lists) Is it better to have a strong name that suggests conviction like Sophia (which means "wisdom"), or a softer name that sounds fun and full of creative energy like Lola (which means "moving to and fro")? Then you must consider your child's prospects for future fame and fortune - you need to choose a marketable first name that rings a nice bell with your last name.....Sally Smith just won't cut it.....Savannah Smith sounds all that more glam.

You thought you were sitting down to make a cosy baby name list but now you feel like Dorothy spun out of a tornado and facing the Wicked Witch of Decision. And everyone wants to help you...your parents, your grandma, your friends, your hairdresser, but you don't really want their help when it's all said and done. For right as you finally come close to THE name for your baby, you'll subtly mention it and one of the above kind souls will, in the spirit of the young boy on my kindergarten bus, 1) gag and/or grimace, 2) plain out say "I don't like that, 3) clam up leave you with a cold, telling silence. They might have well just said "they were going to throw up!" We're human and we've all got our opinions - but we're different and when choosing a baby name it needs to be a choice for you and your significant other - only. It's now that I imagine I feel like that bus driver - in a quandary about how to respond to a smarting opinion that I didn't really want in the first place.

I know some couples that have decided on their baby's name and shared it prior to the birth - power to you all for sticking to your guns and ignoring what anyone and everyone else has to say. While Chris and I have been happy to debate and discuss a spate of baby names with pretty much anyone (and everyone asks), we have decided when we do reach a decision we are not going to share. Once our little lady is born and named, people are far less likely to be openly critical; we've done a good deal of recon with others on suitable names, but with this on board I can see my tolerance for debating my daughter's name waning like the current hours of daylight.

Girl Power!

First of all, a huge shout out to my great friends E&S who just brought a beautiful baby girl into the world yesterday! Congratulations guys!!

This post is all about GIRL POWER (and no people, I'm NOT talking Spice Girls) - in addition to E&S's excellent news, we had our 20 week sonogram yesterday and found out that we too are having a girl! Most importantly she looked healthy and on track development wise for my January due date. Of course we would be thrilled either way but I am looking forward to evening the boy/girl score in our house (Chris & Rico / Baby and Me) and having a mini me, albeit with a British accent! Chris guessed that we'd have a girl all along so he was happy to be on the mark and has plans to rear her as a first class athlete in tennis...golf....any sport with a ball really. He has high hopes but I reminded him that we are not turning into psycho sports parents that pressurize our kids - I remember a coach or parent once punching someone else at my sister's soccer game - a prime example of child sport bringing out the devil in parents.

Our little lady must have sensed she was being scanned because she went on acrobatic overload right as I laid down on the sonographer's table....either that or the skittles and OJ I had before the appointment were taking effect! This 20 week sonogram seemed like another milestone in our pregnancy. After the 12 week scan it seemed so far in the future, but now it's come and gone and I'm left with the further realization that we are going to be parents with a living breathing baby really soon. Let me tell you, there is a sizable and very real looking baby inside me. It's thrilling, fantastic, scary and exciting all at the same time. Happy as I am, I won't be planning on celebrating with any of these freaking scary cakes...that is a a step too far in the creepy direction for my tastes!

I remember looking in awe at a heavily pregnant lady about to drop at the Affordable Art Fair with E earlier this year. At the time E was still in the first half of her pregnancy - now she has been that girl and has graduated to mama. Pregnant B is next in line and I'll be bringing up the rear of our girl hat-trick in January. Something must have been in the water when we were all working together....I feel pretty emotional about it all but again I'll blame the hormones for making me soft.

Those "hormones" have been rearing their heads in other random ways too. I don't usually view myself as an overly hormonal person but do find I now have the occasional psycho spike. Like Tuesday night, when I lost an e-bay auction for that cherished Bugaboo Cameleon that has possessed me. I lost the auction by £10 and turned a little crazy - I must have momentarily thought I was a boxer since I started punching the air and moaning like banshee. When Chris tried to assure me that there would be future auctions and there were other bugaboos waiting in the wings to go on ebay, I wasn't having it. He tried to be patient with me but finally gave up and told me to stop being irrational. I snapped out of my red haze about 10 minutes later....but in the name of girl power, next time "the psycho air boxer" in me threatens to come out, I need to get a grip and quick! Ahh the highs and lows of this pregnancy coaster......

Halfway There!

Friday I reached 20 weeks - the official halfway point of my pregnancy. Time is flying!

Our baby is now about 6.5 inches long and about 10.5 ounces, about the length of a banana. We have our 20 week scan this week so we're soon to find out if baby is a little boy or a little girl - exciting!! I used to claim I'd never find out the sex before birth but once pregnant that idea went right out the window!

Reaching the midway milestone makes pregnancy all the more real - aside from the fact I can regularly feel our little acrobat, it's now dawning on me that soon, really soon, it will no longer be just Chris and me. We've lived together for almost 7 years now. Our 11pm trips to Ikea, joint runs/gym trips and nights out on the town with only Rico's timer food dish to organize will soon be a distant memory. I am ready to be a mom and I want to do the job well; I am prepared to make sacrifices, change my routines, put our baby as first priority. But Chris and I both still want to maintain our senses of self and how exactly we'll achieve that with baby is something we just don't know and probably won't know until January. We tell ourselves that we'll integrate our new addition into our lifestyle and continue to travel, socialize, be active, etc and I hope we can stick to this AND be good, engaged parents.

This will be food for thought as we navigate the second half of my pregnancy - I guess between talking to experienced parents, reading up on newborn care and bearing in mind our own situation we'll find a groove that works for us. But aside from these grand questions, I need to get down to the basics - how many times a day does a baby feed and need diaper changes; do I buy reusable or disposable diapers or a mix; how long are you supposed to breastfeed for, what do we NEED to buy and what is just market temptation.....??? Yup, we've got a steep learning curve ahead....but as I keep saying, bring it on!

Stroller Shopping on GreEn Bay

We live in the age of the consumer and I'm staggered by the amount of baby paraphernalia on the market. What do I need? What is excess? Changing tables, breast pumps, reusable diapers, disposable diapers....decisions, decisions, decisions.

I haven't delved too far into this abyss, but I hope take a practical approach to baby shopping based on a mix of real need, environmentally friendly products and value for money rather than whimsical "that is so cute my baby must have it" urges. I believe this is a reasonable approach but have now contradicted my practical mantra and decided that I really want to buy a Bugaboo Cameleon stroller/pram. Lightweight, compact, suitable from birth and with a fancy schmancy steering system appropriate for country and city terrain, it ticked lots of my boxes. I'm active; even though I'm having a winter baby, I want to get out of the house as much as I can and walk with baby. We live in an urban environment but I love countryside walks at National Trust properties. Our house is small and doesn't have the space for a big stroller. And if we're going to splurge in one area, I was all in favor of doing so on our stroller.

The Cameleon's price tag of around £700, well over £800 with the car seat etc gave "splurge" a whole new meaning. Now I see why they are popular with celebrities - they can afford them. But how could we, two hard working young professionals preparing for the costs of a new baby justify paying that much money for a stroller in light of everything else we need to get/do to our house/etc etc etc. We just can't.

It's then that Chris, also taken with the Cameleon, suggested that we take a spin on ebay for used Bugaboos. I balked at first, but then started to consider the benefits. Buying on ebay would significantly reduce the price tag of an item that, like a new car, majorly devalues once it hits the road. Those that bought them in the first place were likely to have cared for them, but the wear and tear on any stroller we might "win" could be reviewed in person before finalizing the deal and exchanging funds. Obviously we'd buy a new car seat for safety reasons and would have the option of replacing wheels, bearings, etc. if needed. Notably, buying a used stroller is another form of renewing, reusing and recycling, a green approach often forgotten in the whirlwind of baby buying. While I believe you should examine your chosen stroller in person before making a final purchase, online research and ebay bidding saves numerous trips in the car to Baby's R Us and the like. I've seen a number of 2 year-old Bugaboos on ebay that look in mint condition - why should they go to waste? Plus, if I bought my wedding dress on ebay, what should stop me from shopping for a stroller there?!

As my mom points out, the baby doesn't care what it rides in and I spent the whole of my babyhood in a simple, cheap umbrella stroller. Is having a Bugaboo and its many functions really worth it? That's something we'll need to weigh up, but as we do, the ebay route makes our debate viable while also being a bit greener.

Published on The Green Baby Guide

Good Vibrations

Supposedly there "may" be advantages to playing music to your baby in the womb. I don't think there are any definitive findings on this theory, but I guess the idea is to use music as a vehicle to engage and comfort your baby in utero, which will then be familiar or soothing once he/she is born.

I'm now at 18 weeks; our baby is the size of a bell pepper and can apparently hear my heart beating and my digestive system processing - after the amount of curry I ate last night the little one must have had quite the show! I think it's still a couple of weeks until baby can hear noises from outside the womb, so I have some time before I can start putting the music theory to the test.

Having said that, earlier this week I went to karaoke with Chris and some friends from his work. They are karaoke king and go often enough to hold a gold card that entitled us to 5 hours of free singing! Yes 5 hours. I am no seasoned karaoke girl and I'm a terrible singer, but the night was a lot of fun. The music was so loud though, that baby must have got some kind of show, if not from the audio at least from the vibrations. Chris did a particularly stirring rendition of Guns and Roses' 'Civil War' that must have radiated beyond our singing room and throughout the surrounding area! Maybe not particularly soothing, but stimulating I'm sure! Looking forward, I think we better introduce a balanced mix of music or we may have a hyper one on our hands.