Well, here I am at the end of the first week of maternity leave, I went to work every day except yesterday anyhow, and will probably go in again on Monday too. I'm trying to sneak around so nobody sees me, but within five seconds of walking up to my office door this morning I was loudly mocked by both the department admin officers. I am finding it very hard to mentally disengage, and although all the things I've been working on and the things I'm still fiddling with are personal projects, not teaching, it's because of having begun to teach the semester that I can't switch off. It's like trying to nerve yourself up to jump off a moving train. Ideally, somebody would throw me off so I wouldn't have to make the effort myself.
Back last year some time I did ask my obstetrician whether she thought I'd be able to stay at work until about 2-3 weeks before the expected delivery date (sorry, I think I might have mentioned this already) and she very quickly put the dampeners on that idea. Now that I am at the 34-and-a-bit weeks mark I can really see how right she was. Work is too much. I generally start about 9 and am half dead by 11. I've given several lectures over the last few weeks and at first I was very disconcerted by the sound of my own voice - it was quavery and nervous-sounding. After a bit I figured out this was because of the drastically reduced diaphragm and lung capacity; lecturing needs a lot of deep breaths and I only have shallow ones at present. It's better not to be teaching any more for other reasons too; the baby doesn't move as frequently as he was doing a month or so ago, but when he does wriggle now it's a major and highly visible undertaking, and he happened to roll right over while I was standing at the whiteboard in front of a room full of first years who all shrieked in horror at the sight and instantly lost whatever slight and flagging interest they'd had in learning the correct way to format a quotation.
Today is the day, though, that I'm considering myself *really* on leave from work and to mark the occasion I'm going out this evening to the bright lights of Doncaster to see Barry Morgan's World of Organs at the theatre Dorian programs. Dorian was saying last night that he is fairly sure many of the people who have bought tickets are not expecting comedy. I certainly hope this proves to be the case.
So next week begins the proper pre-baby leave period for me; I hope I'll be able to spend a couple of weeks at least in resting and doing the things I really want to do before he comes out. I envisage my days unfolding something like this:
7-8 Breakfast with Dorian, bit of house cleaning, wash and dress
8-9.30 write
9.30-10.30 bit of gardening, weather permitting
10.30-11 morning tea whilst fighting on the internet
11-1 sew
1-2 lunch, at home or out, and a walk
2-3 nap
3-5.30 cook or read, bit more internet fighting
5.30-6.30 talk to Dorian, eat dinner
6.30-8 walk or swim
8-10 play with baby's toys, generally potter around, maybe some more sewing or a bit of TV
10 go to bed
I know it doesn't look terribly restful. I might need more naps and more reading, I guess. But a lot of those things are things I've been hanging out to do, and will be fun.
I've got a lot of sewing lined up. A lot. Most for the baby, both clothing and general linen, some for me (hospital stuff and maybe some breastfeeding-friendly shirts and dresses) some dull household stuff as well. I did get the curtains made for his room and they look great. I'll take a picture on the next day that isn't overcast.
Friday, March 25
Monday, March 21
Winding things up...
Officially I finished work and began my maternity leave on Friday afternoon, but of course I didn't get everything necessary done before then. So I am sitting at my desk at work, (feeling pretty stupid) taking a short break between a lecture on poststructuralist feminism, which I spent all day yesterday writing except for the parts where I fell asleep, and a meeting with a research group I'm involved with. There are still fifteen things on my work 'to-do' list. I'll get all of them done, bar three ongoing low-key projects, by Friday, and then my real rest period will start. I can't say how much I am longing to be able to put work aside for a while. I am convinced it'll help me sleep better. Last night I was so desperately sick of tossing and turning I got up and went and lay on the couch and read Lucky Jim for a couple of hours.
We bought a car on Saturday. It has air conditioning and electric windows and so forth. This is very nice but I am greatly relieved at a more basic level because our current car has broken down three times this year and is very small and not equipped to provide much protection if it gets in a crash. The dealer told Dorian that the previous owner was a member of the Exclusive Brethren. Is that supposed to be sort of like the 'little old lady who only drove it on Sundays' of yore, ie the ultimate in desirable previous owners because one who must surely have been nice to the car, not fanged it or covered up any damage? I suppose we will find out. The dealer himself was all you would expect him to be. I hate to stereotype people but honestly. Highly skilled in the fine arts of giving evasive answers to direct questions and pressuring you into doing whatever it is that will produce the highest commission for himself.
We bought a car on Saturday. It has air conditioning and electric windows and so forth. This is very nice but I am greatly relieved at a more basic level because our current car has broken down three times this year and is very small and not equipped to provide much protection if it gets in a crash. The dealer told Dorian that the previous owner was a member of the Exclusive Brethren. Is that supposed to be sort of like the 'little old lady who only drove it on Sundays' of yore, ie the ultimate in desirable previous owners because one who must surely have been nice to the car, not fanged it or covered up any damage? I suppose we will find out. The dealer himself was all you would expect him to be. I hate to stereotype people but honestly. Highly skilled in the fine arts of giving evasive answers to direct questions and pressuring you into doing whatever it is that will produce the highest commission for himself.
Wednesday, March 9
news in briefs
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.
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.
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