The Great Disconnect
30 July 2005, 08:28
So I went to Emergency a couple of weeks ago (I’d been having some bleeding you see, which is not such a great thing to have at 13 weeks…) and we got to see MiniMc Live on Screen. I was curious but not at all emotional. I think I just said, “Shit, that’s real” but it actually felt too bloody surreal. Husband was all choked up, but I, strangely, wasn’t.
Same thing happened a few days later when I went for my NT Scan. For those not ‘at one’ with pregnancy terminology and procedures, this is a “Nuchal Translucency” test where they zap a bit of your blood and measure the layer of skin at the back of the baby’s neck to give you odds of whether you have yourself a Down’s Syndrome baby.
For a middle-aged wench such as myself, I had startling odds – 1 in 2,760, which is 10 times less risk than the average for my age. It’s all such a gamble though – unless you have a battery of invasive tests, you don’t really know and there have been women who’ve had 1 in 3000 odds who’ve delivered a Downs Baby.
Anyway, I digress… I was able to see MiniMc sucking it’s thumb (nyah) and its little heart beating, but it still felt terribly scientific, like I’d been asked to examine a multiplying bacteria under a microscope. Objective. Detached. Logically, of course (I’m not an idiot, you know) I knew this was our baby but I still haven’t made the Great Connect.
According to other women who are or have been pregnant, this makes me somewhat akin to a freak. No, they’d never say that, but I sure think that. There are always tales of great unbridled emotion and sensations of protective, motherly love at the ultrasound when you see it for the first time. At least the unembarrassed shedding of a single tear. I guess it will come when it comes.
What became painfully obvious though, once I saw the photo the doc took of the ultrasound, was that the little Codger has McG’s browline and profile. AT 13 WEEKS OLD! BUT, I guess it did have my big head…
Permanent Link | Comments [5]Warning: Fun times ahead...
27 July 2005, 07:56
For those who missed my startling revelation that I am, in fact, going to bear a child (because no-one’s ever done that before), I am preggers, 14 weeks yesterday. This, for the unmathematical is 98 days of up-the-duffedness, roughly 50 of which has been spent in the throes of the dreaded 24/7 sickness.
For me, that meant entire days of queasiness (thankfully only made love to the porcelain bus thrice!), needing to eat all. the. time, with the very thought of food making me feel even sicker. Oh, the bitter irony! I was wretched.
I would unhappily stuff my face full of pasta alfredos, chips, nasty cheesy food and cruskits. Akin somewhat to Hangover food as that’s exactly how I felt. I stacked on 4 (un)holy kilos in the first trimester. That’s a lot of unwanted blubber, let me tell you.
Now am on healthkick of grave proportions. I have rational fear of being tired and overweight trakky-dak wearing Blubber-Girl. NO! Must be fit, glowing expectant Goddess, dammit!
I have a miracle-working pilates instructor (frightfully expensive wot!) who has been whipping my arse and tummy into shape. I have a chronic herniated disc problem in my lower back which could cause me grief later on in pregnancy-land, so must strengthen those core-muscles, oh yes, indeedy.
Will post pic of big-bellah once I have something to show. I’m barely showing yet or actually feeling preggers. If I hadn’t seen the Morsel on the ultrasound screen (twice – once in emergency – long and ongoing story – and once for my nuchal fold ultrasound – more on that later) I wouldn’t actually believe there was something alive and hiccuping in my uterus.
It’s all a very strange, theoretical proposition…if a baby kicks and hiccups (and, grossly, pees itself) and no-one sees it, is it really there?....
Permanent Link | Comments [6]Get in mah bellah!
24 July 2005, 19:00
To all those smug bastards sitting back at home musing, “I’m sure her literary absence means she’s up the duff (and my, didn’t she look puffy in that last photo she posted?)...”, well done. You are truly righteous dudes…
Permanent Link | Comments [16]A long time between drinks
17 July 2005, 11:36
Bloody Winter. Hibernation. Scarves. Coats. Frost on the Glass.
I used to love Winter. Couldn’t get enough of the sodding season. But that was in Canada and Japan, when, if you were lucky, it snowed overnight and everything was clean and white and the days were crisp with a rude blue sky (OK, maybe not every day was like that, just let me have my reverie, already…).
In Melbourne, if the sky is clear then you have my attention, but this winter, most days have been dreary with a misty drizzle cutting every bit of chill right into your bones. Your joints ache. Getting warm (particularly in a timber house with floorboards and no curtains yet) is impenatrably difficult.
So, we haven’t been socialising much. We just pop it in the too-hard-basket and snuggle up next to the gas heater with a hot chocolate and some berry pie (good explanation for thigh explosion of late) instead.
But we couldn’t possibly miss our good buddy, let’s call her the Succulent Wild Woman, as that is, in fact, her name, celebrating her 30th Birthday in the grungy mecca that is the Railway Hotel in South Melbourne.
It brings out the animal in me…
The theme was “Africa”, costumes were mandatory, and leopard skin abounded. Seems just about everyone in Melbourne has some shade of leopard skin in their wardrobes. I don’t know what that says about us [just for the record, I got mine at Savers yesterday for $6. No, I swear I did].
SWW’s husband took the prize, with his Golliwog impersonation(s), which he took to the streets later in the evening, attempting to scare patrons and strangers alike. I really should be ideologically correct and say I was horrified, but fuckit, it was hilarious. An African Golliwog with a plummy Manchunian accent and stay-ups sporting alarmingly white loins beneath his loin-cloth. Hilarious, I tell you…
The Golliwog Groove
More SWW 30th Shindig pics here
Permanent Link | Comments [1]Photo Friday "Candid"
10 July 2005, 09:11
Click to enlarge in Gallery
Back on the blog...
8 July 2005, 08:43
Still alive. Still alive.
Last couple of months have been a veritable whirlwind of… stuff.
Moved into new House and, much as we love the place, have been faced with reality that House will need a solid restumping in a few years and some dodgy builders have done some very dodgy things indeed (e.g. built the extension flush to the ground so there’s no ventilation whatsoever – hence potential feral white-ant mecca) that will require fixing. But the joint is 85 years old and still standing so that’s saying something.
And no, we didn’t get a builder’s inspection before we purchased the place (blame infamous spontaneity) but hell, you live and learn.
There’s so much bloody stuff you have to think about when you buy a house. It’s a long story, but to cut it very short, Bank gave us pre-approval in the first place when they shouldn’t have (because of Husband’s “fixed-term contract” status) even though I was a little suss about the situation, but I stupidly trusted Bank because they’re supposed to know their shit.
I could gouge my eyes out with my naivety.
So we went on a merry-shopping-spree, found a perfect little Edwardian cottage with rose garden (not important?) and negotiated (very badly) to secure it after it was passed in at auction.
It was v. daunting to sign the contract-of-sale without having checked it through our solicitor (who, to give him his share of the blame, told us if we showed him the contract before the auction, we waived our 3 day cooling off period). Little did we know (and he should have known) that the vast majority of auctions have a non-conditional contract, which means you waive your cooling period anyway and you basically can’t back out of the contract (even if you can’t secure finance) without having your arses sued. And 10% of a house price is a massive amount of coin.
BUT we had secured finance, hadn’t we?
The next day, when it was time for Bank to cough up the cash, they realised their mistake with the job-status, baulked and said:
“You aren’t eligible for Lender’s Mortgage Insurance [the cash they give you to make up 20% of the purchase price] so we can give you the money, you just have to come up with the 20%”.
An extra $15,000 over what we had. In 2 months. We promptly shat ourselves, wiped up, saved like mad bastards and managed to get over the line (after eating toasted cheese sandwiches for lunch every single day).
We really had no idea what we were doing so are grateful we came out of it relatively unscathed with slightly elevated blood pressure and a healthy skepticism towards institutions who are supposed to know what they’re talking about.
***************
On the brighter side of finance, I did got a promotion and pay rise at work last week because I am Super-fab Work Goddess. Just ask me.
Photo Friday "Used"
2 July 2005, 08:07
Click to enlarge in Gallery
Permanent Link | C'mon, hit me! [5]
