Excuse the humidity hair. Melbourne is having a summer of monsoonal rains, which is nasty, but certainly preferable to the heartbreaking weather bringing devastation to large parts of Queensland. I'm glad from a purely selfish pregnancy perspective that it hasn't yet been a hot summer like last year's. The hottest day thus far was New Year's Eve when it got up to about 40. I was totally knackered. We had the nicest New Year I've had for a really long time, but our car broke down when I was driving it home on the Eastern Freeway at half past one in the morning. That was frightening.
I still haven't made the curtains, although we are slowly but surely getting a number of other household tasks of that sort done. We've both taken next week off work to knock off a few more jobs and to take a couple of days holiday, which I'm really looking forward to. We're going to the seaside and Dorian has booked us on a dolphin-swimming excursion. Apparently dolphins are very interested in pregnant women - they can detect babies with their sonar - so that'll be weird. I hope I don't come back a hippy, or obsessed with dolphins like Pat Mullins.
I'm doing OK with the gestational diabetes, I think. It's laborious, with the food prep, the exercise and the constant monitoring, and a bit pitiful with the dietary obsessiveness, but on the up side, I feel really well, and my various medical people say I'm controlling it well and things are progressing nicely. Between talking with my obstetrician today and generally putting two and two together, it seems inevitable that the baby will be born a week or two before the 40th week, so that's only three months off now. I've been able to feel him moving around in there for about a month now. The first movements were tiny little flutters but now it's like
Plastic Bertrand is thumping around in my belly. Who'd have thought being kicked repeatedly in the guts could be so much fun?
Dorian misses out on this stuff of course but his unconscious finds ways to compensate. He dreamed that he was looking after the baby (who wasn't born yet) while I had to go somewhere, and he had the baby wrapped up in blankets inside a plastic bag. Dorian opened the bag to look at the baby and make sure he was ok and the baby spoke to him. What he said was, "I don't mind Basil." Which, as you may imagine, is a great relief to me.
