Half Way Dead. I mean, There. Half Way There.

I’ve officially gotten (pee’d) my way through my 20 week scan and got my little monster-face moving so they could give me some good pictures. As soon as the ultrasound wand comes anywhere near my belly, Goober turns into a little squishy ball and hides upside down, under my ribs. I didn’t even know my uterus would allow that to happen… but apparently it can!

As far as Bub’s health goes; It couldn’t be better. Every part is where it should be and growing well. I’m going to have a loooong baby, that I’ve already figured out.

However, there is a conundrum of whether to have a C-Section or not. I know my Doctors don’t see any reason for me to not to have a natural birth, but I am not trusting in their beliefs entirely. Yes, they deliver babies every day but I’m just wondering whether or not to go head first into the schamozzle that will be child birth with heart monitors, ultrasounds and MRI’s. Then hope to hell that I don’t rupture, tear, need an Emergency C-Section etc etc. I really really don’t want to be put in that situation where I’ve just spent the last 36 hours of pain filled madness, not being allowed to eat all that time and screaming my ass off … for them to say Whoops! OK, Time to cut you open! 

Or, just say fuck it  and book a C-Section ahead of time and deal with the healing time and required help for the first few weeks. Honestly, I’m leaning more toward this option rather than the other.


I’m having a strange day today. Cleaning and doing the usual monotonous things, but also attempting to reorganize my study come baby room, and figure out what needs to be in there and what doesn’t. I was working away and suddenly I had this hand shaking, almost-teary moment as I took some of my paintings off the wall.  I stop and sit down for a moment, and wonder what the hell that was all about.

Then I realise.
I’m losing my space.
My room. 

The one room where I was allowed to get splashes of paint on the walls, and leave it as messy as I damn well liked. The one place in the entire house where I didn’t need to worry about whether the drapes matched the desk, the fact that I had half finished drawings gathering dust in a pile on the floor or that I had about a weeks worth of  mugs with half drunk tea in there.
I was losing part of my identity, and giving it up for another. Another which I whole heartedly want, don’t get me wrong. But this other identity I don’t even completely know about and yet, I’m doing everything in my power to bring it on faster.

That shocked me into a dumb silence for a few minutes, until the dogs decided to come and harass me.
I’ve gotten a lot done on it today, and the room is almost ready to have the cot and change table set up and everything else will slowly start coming into place.

I’m having to adjust to this change in my environment quicker that I thought I would. Sometimes, I think it’s terribly hard but then I remember that I’m going to be welcoming this little creature into my life in a few short months and then … everything will be as it should.

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