I'm 36 weeks and 2 days pregnant, and counting. We've now begun Baby School month, or so it seems, what with the Hypnobirthing sessions we're attending and NCT classes starting.
We're not doing too well with the Hypnobirthing homework, I must admit. We've been set reading and breathing exercises. I've done the reading but not the exercises, which, if I want a calm and tranquil birth, is probably the wrong way around. Typical of me though, as right from being a small child I've loved books and hated anything that includes the word exercise. Time to get a grip on that I think, or risk chucking £300-plus down the drain.
We had the first NCT class on Monday evening, a rubbish time for pregnant mums methinks. I gave up trying to do anything on a Monday evening five months ago - don't know why but it's always been a tiredness zone for me. I enjoyed the class, especially being together with the other women, all of whom are due to give birth in December and January.
Discovered that I'm the first one off the blocks, so to speak, with a baby due December 1. That would explain why I felt like a girly swot answering all the tricky questions about what a mucus plug is and what to do if you feel the urge to push and you're still at home (don't go to hospital, call an ambulance, get help, put door on latch so the paramedics can get in, men get ready to catch a very slippery baby).
You see, sometimes reading books comes in useful.
I loved a session at the NCT class in which the teacher (teacher?) made the chaps strap on a rucksack weighing about two stone to their chests and then do every-day tasks, like doing up shoelaces and getting on and off the sofa. I was chuffed to think that, yeah, now they know what it's like! Only, the rucksack should have contained a frantic monkey with a powerful left hook, and all of their internal organs needed compressing into cavities the size of a sliver of brie.
Talking of cheese, did you know that a 10cm-dilated cervix is about the diameter of a Dairylea box? No, me neither. It's an interesting fact, though I couldn't help hoping the teacher wasn't feeding her four kids that kind of garbage.
We also played a game of "how can you tell when your partner is going into labour?". The men were pretty good actually, and were able to add a few, such as "she'll have contractions" and "I'll be getting my coat" (not really). The list also included vomiting and tummy upsets, the "show" or mucus plug being expelled and manic cleaning at 3am. One out of three sounds reasonable, at least.
I've spotted a few more signs this week that the end of the pregnancy is nigh. They are the random-ish panic purchasing of last minute items regardless of cost (gulp!!) and the presence of a cleaner, hairdresser and decorator in my house at the same time, though, come to think of it, the presence of a cleaner, hairdresser and decorator in my house at all, never mind at the same time, means something very unusual must be afoot. Hmm.
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