Man Flu and a Show

I have man flu. It's official. I know it's just a cold, but it's the worst cold I've ever had. Have been totally knocked for six and want to just wallow in bed all day.

I woke up feeling fine on Thursday, but by the end of the day it was already 'really bad'. And I barely slept Thursday night. Friday was spent snoozing on the sofa, napping and then off to bed early. Not that I went to sleep early. I reckon I got about 4 hours sleep for the 4th night running and today have been feeling just as terrible.

Only this morning, whilst daddy and toddler were out burning off some energy at soft play and in the snow, I had a show.

It wasn't quite how I expected a show to be (of course last time, my waters broke and that was the first I knew that anything was happening). I noticed a bit of colour in my undies (sorry fellas) so had a good look at the loo roll when I went for a wee. Nothing. Stood up and there sunk down at the bottom of the water was a lightly red/brown squiggly looking thing. Eeek!

So after texting hubby with the good news, I settled myself back in bed and started timing contractions. Not for the first time. They seemed to be fairly regular at 15 minute intervals, but after hubby got home, I missed a couple, or they didn't happen. Eventually I decided that sleep was the best thing for me so I went off for my nap and ignored anything else. Haven't really noticed anything since either. But at least a show suggests it's going to happen soon.

Maybe, if my body is really good to me, it will recover from man flu before it goes into labour.

Although, now I've had a sign that it's imminent, I'm quite excited at the prospect of having a November baby instead of adding to the endless birthdays in the month of December. Fingers crossed.

A step backwards?

So as I read on facebook about how my next door neighbour has successfully potty trained her boy who is 6 months younger than mine, I am considering taking the backwards step of returning my toddler from his big boy's bed to his cot.

Is this a bad idea?

He loves his big bed but only uses it at night time as there was no way he was going to stay put in it for his midday nap. So he still has the cot in his bedroom and sleeps in it every day. But his night time departures from the big bed seem to be on the increase and as I, at 37 weeks pregnant, become more and more in need of my sleep, I can't help but think it would be easier if he was back in the cot and unable to get out.

If there seemed to be a reason for his night time wanderings, a bad dream, loss of a toy, too cold, I would be more lenient. But I honestly think he's just stirring a little and then getting out of bed because he can. He comes straight to our room, straight to my side of the bed (well, it is nearest the door) and tries to climb in with me.

And do you know what... in the middle of the night when I don't have the energy to wake up and return him, I'd happily let him snuggle up and stay with me. If only that were possible. Unfortunately, my toddler and co-sleeping just don't go together. He thinks our bed is for playing in. On the odd occasion we've given him the chance to sleep with us, he's got more and more wriggly and more and more awake until we've had a big fight on our hands to get him back in his room and asleep.

I just can't help but think, that when there's a new baby in the house, disturbing everyone by crying, that the night time escapades will just increase and be more difficult to deal with. But is returning to the cot cheating? Is it likely to cause further problems when the time comes that the new baby needs the cot? Will it confuse him to his detriment?

The Little Long Lost Luxuries

Whilst in the depths of late pregnancy, experiencing fatness like I have never experienced before, I thought I'd cheer myself up with a little list. It also whiled away some of the hours spent sitting around in hospital last week (the ones where I wasn't asleep anyway).

So here are the Top Ten things I'm looking forward to when I'm no longer pregnant. And I've not mentioned anything about the baby, cause that's a bit obvious (and I'm not the gushy type)!!

1. A brie and grape baguette - I'm craving it purely because I can't have it.

2. Laying flat on my back - I manage about 5 mins at the moment before I feel bad about squashing whichever artery it is and reducing everyone's blood flow.

3. Reaching my feet - not struggling to put shoes on.

4. Boiled egg and soldiers - in my new egg cups I got from Jamie at Home. Y.U.M.

5. A good night's sleep - ok, I'll have a newborn, who am I kidding?!? One day, maybe.

6. Cuddling my toddler without fearing for my bump - those kicky legs are just WAY out of control.

7. Walking upstairs without having to rest at the top - seriously exhausting work. If only we had a downstairs loo.

8. Being able to distinguish where ankle stops and foot begins - actually, they're not that badly swollen at the moment, but I'm sure this will soon change again.

9. Picking things up from the floor - well it'd be nice if I had no need to, but with a small child and small toys, it's an inevitable task. And one that is almost a complete physical impossibility at present.

10. Having my husband at home for a few days - it may not be the pleasant, relaxing experience I'm hoping for but it'll be nice to have adult company for a few days running anyway as I'm not managing to get out so much anymore.

Anyone else who's expecting... what are you missing the most or looking forward to post-birth?

Remember Remember the 4th of November

Thursday 4 November started off as a seemingly normal day. I was happily making some lunch for the husband to take to work (point-scoring) when I suddenly needed to take a break to sit down.

Then I went to the loo. Then I went for a lie-down.

Something wasn't right. I just felt extra tired and had a bit of lower backache and.... oh, hang on. I'm not, I can't be...

I hinted to Paul that I didn't want him to go to work. I cried a lot. And eventually we agreed he would go to the office and get his laptop, call me and if I still wanted him home, he'd come back and could work from here if needs be.

Well, I called him and said I'd just had a bout of diarrhoea and he jumped straight in the car to come back to me, knowing this could be a real sign of impending labour.

I was having a few contractions, probably just braxton hicks, but the thing I couldn't figure out, was that I felt really really sick too. I wasn't really sure if this happens in labour and it hadn't happened to me last time. In the meantime I completely emptied my bowels and we called the hospital. They suggested it could be an upset tummy and I should hang on at home for a while, if contractions started coming regularly and more painfully then I should go in.

Then I was sick. Real 'body trying to empty itself' sick. And I felt a lot better. I sat downstairs and watched a bit of telly with the poor neglected toddler and when he'd had his lunch and headed off for a nap, I headed off to bed too. I was still having contractions, but assumed they were just braxton hicks and tried to get some rest to see if they calmed down.

My next vomit was so intense - and with nothing left in my stomach to come out - that I woke the toddler prematurely from his nap. Several more vomits followed, each one coming on so suddenly that I was glad to have the sick bucket to hand on my dash to the bathroom.

We started timing the contractions at about 4pm and for the next 3 hours they didn't stop. But they weren't regular. Sometimes the gap would be 2 minutes, sometimes 10. But they did not stop. We rang the community midwife who insisted we go to hospital so we arranged childcare, and off we went.

The car journey seemed to make the contractions more regular, frequent and intense. At this point I was feeling really glad we'd decided to go. But once we got into hospital and they'd taken a swab (yes, more probing down below), they confirmed that I was not in labour and it was probably the irritation of the tummy bug making my womb contract.

A doctor fitted me up with a canular in my wrist and due to my dislike of blood, the discomfort it caused and my predisposed vomit situation, I threw up whilst he took samples from me. Then I was hooked up to a drip to rehydrate me as my urine sample was showing all sorts of nasty things from the bug and the total lack of anything else in me.

Eventually, after a very long wait (and dull for Paul as I'd drifted off to sleep), I was moved down to the maternity ward at midnight. Paul came home (where he had to sleep in a musty old sleeping bag as mum hadn't been able to find our spare duvet!!) and I got a bit of sleep whilst sweltering in the heat, unable to get to a window as I was connected to things.

Friday was spent at hospital having a few checks, sleeping lots, eating a bit at a time and awaiting discharge home. Around lunchtime, my urine showed that I was still burning off my own body fat (I know, sounds like a positive thing, but really it's quite bad) instead of burning off sugar so I was asked to stay in until teatime to provide another sample for checking. But given my odd love for hospital food, this was hardly a problem for me.

And I managed to get home just in time for the boy's bedtime - not that he was exactly thrilled to see me. He'd been having far too much fun with Nanny and Grandad all day as I'd sent Paul off to the wedding we were supposed to be attending! Still, I got a bit of a cuddle and time to sit on the sofa eating little snacks.

I can safely say that having a tummy bug is not a pleasant experience ever, but particularly this late in pregnancy. I am relieved, however, not to have given birth prematurely again.

This time next week, it'll be a different matter. I just want to pass the 36 week marker (next Weds) then I'm happy to pop as soon as possible as the sooner he comes out, the smaller he'll be. And small babies fit out much more easily!