Hello! Still pregnant. Eight months and one day, now. That makes the Event sound exceedingly imminent, but pregnancy is ten months, not really nine, so it's not too soon. Although I think my baby will appear earlier than the official due date of 3 May. Probably, knowing family luck, on ANZAC day. Would that be good or bad? Benefits of a public holiday birthday probably outweigh drawbacks of a war-oriented day birthday.
I'm starting maternity leave at the end of next week. That means I have seven working days to go. Woo hoo! And only about seven hundred items left on my to-do list. Although, because I am a sucker, I am coming in to work and going to meetings and giving lectures on the Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of the first week of leave. And, not that personnel has actually approved my leave yet. But that's the date I applied to go, with a medical letter supporting my application, and I will indeed cease to turn up to my classes. In seriousness, working is getting much too hard now. I'm typing this at my desk at work just before I leave for the day, and my back and belly are very sore and tired. Teaching is too tiring and my whole body aches when I go home after a day of it. I really need the ability to sleep in the middle of the day now too. Also, pathetically, I am weeping little sooky tears whenever anyone says anything vaguely emotional to me, and I don't agree with that sort of thing in the workplace. Earlier on I had hoped to be able to keep working until about 37 weeks, my obstetrician very quickly put the kybosh on that. I was a bit taken aback at the time, but now I see that she was completely right, just as she's been about pretty much everything else.
I made the curtains, Dorian has painted the baby's room and put up shelves, and Basil tried out a selection of the baby's sleeping and traveling containers for comfort and size. I bought a chest freezer and have been filling it up with frozen dinners. We went to a childbirth education class where everyone went 'ewww' when the midwife got out the forceps and clanked them together. She had a doll baby for demonstration purposes which, when it wasn't being stuffed into a rubber pelvis or produced out of an organza amniotic sac, fixed its beady little creepy doll eyes on my husband and tried to freak him out.
Our car has broken down several times now and I'm getting very keen on the idea of acquiring a new one before, you know, my waters burst or something like that.
I'm now injecting myself with insulin thrice daily and it's helping keep my blood sugar in the proper range. I haven't gained any weight since i got pregnant and my obstetrician is pleased about that. At my last ultrasound, though, the ultrasonographer said my baby is almost topping the scale for largeness around the abdomen, and unless memory deceives, he said the baby is thus likely to get stuck halfway out, which, as A.R. said on Twitter, could get awfully awkward at parties. Although really, babies don't get stuck halfway do they? They get out somehow, by hook or by crook.
Along with a lot of sewing, house and garden pottering, and sleeping in the middle of the day, I plan to use the pre-birth part of my maternity leave to re-establish the habit of blogging every day, which I miss immensely and regret having fallen away from. I will try, though, not to make it all about pregnanty stuff, since that is beginning to be boring even for me.