You Never Had A Camera In My Head!

I've been feeling recently that I'm in my own version of The Truman Show.

First, there's the usual phenomena of there being fucking LOADS of pregnant women wherever I go. I mean, I know when you focus on things you notice it more in the world and all that, but bloody hell - I see at least 1 every morning (a different one) each day on the bus, WHICHEVER bus I take. Then there's at least THREE small children (like under 1 year old) on there with their Mums. At the station I seem to see at least 5 or 6 nearly burstingly pregnant women EVERY DAY and on the train I see 2, usually the same 2, if I manage to catch the same train.

Then there's the product placement: A week after I found out I was pregnant, for no understandable reason an order of coffee came into the office in a box labelled 'Diapers'. It was a largish box which we kept for storage, archiving stuff and the like. It's outside the loos now, by our stationery cupboard. Every time I come out of the loo, which is often as I'm still peeing every flipping hour, there it is staring me in the face like some giant advert. So that's at least 6 repeat payments for some diaper company.

Again about a week after I found out, Max (housemate) had a clear out. Amongst the rubbish the next morning, inexplicably, was another nappies box, full of rubbish. God knows why he had it, probably he'd got some random boxes from somewhere to pack when he moved in, but for 5 whole days it sat outside winking at me. 10 repeats for Pampers.

I bought Pregnacare immediately. But I freaked out when I'd not taken them for a day and had left the packet at work so got another packet that I keep at home. But then I lost that packet and ran out of the one at work so replaced them both, so that's 4 I've bought where I only needed 2 (and at least 4 shots of me buying Pregnacare).

Last year when I had that pregnancy scare I bought 6 pregnancy tests.

But, most conclusively is this fucking great camera crew following me around and diving into the bushes everytime I turn around too quick.

PS: Sunday, I thanked GOD, I didn't have Brad Pitt as the father-to-be, I mean, who'd want to be treated like THAT while you're pregnant?

Social Boob

It seems everyone at work thought I'd had a boob job.

Perhaps this is why I am being threatened with redundancy?

All White?

My baby's booties, shawl and hat came today (odd they deliver on a Sunday, but still).

They're, yes, white.

You'll have to bear with me.

I will allow you the days, weeks and months after the birth to write TOLD YOU SO when he/she spontaneously and explosively projectile shits and vomits all over the white sofas, the white walls, the silk rug and his/her little white hat, hey I'll be battering down your inboxes to find out how the crap to cope and what each little noise means APART FROM don't buy white anything, lock up everything, cover everything, prepare for no sleep in 6 months and no those breasts are NOT going to stay like that for long.

But for now, and for the next few months, I'm having a great fantasy of a blissfully quiet and terribly well behaved baby sleeping perfectly in my arms in my white everything living room and sweet little white hat ....

Dear X

There is nothing left to say...

It Never Rains...

Thanks for your cool supportive and congratulatory comments, they mean a lot to me.

Life is funny. There I was getting my head around X letting me down (again) and having to be a single Mum, embracing pregnancy nonetheless and feeling positive generally when, on Friday afternoon, I was told I'm potentially being made redundant.

I'm watching out for any low-flying pianos landing, about now, smack on my head.

How Come...

I never feel so tired as when I'm trying to wake up?

Up The Duff Without A Paddle*

In my head, I've written this post a hundred times.

If it had been posted about 8 weeks ago it would have at first been joyous, then angry and upset, probably ending bitterly and full of loathing. 6 weeks ago, it might have sounded more confused and emotional, full of hope but ultimately bewildered. About a month ago, back came the joy and with it, little by little, some confidence and some strength. 2 weeks ago and nearly every day since I have been dying to write it. I am blissful, stronger day by day, still overwhelmed and with tears that still stream all too easily onto the keys (and at totally inappropriate moments, like getting on the bus (WTF?!))

But today I want to post it: I am 12 weeks pregnant and with all the first rounds of scans and tests good, we are low risk for anything, yet there are still some more tests to go.

Here he/she is (side on, facing right):

Now, he/she only has me as a parent, the poor blighter. I have tried to make that fact otherwise, I have even tried to consider other "options", but unpredictably to especially me, I have never wanted this more than now, despite everything; for the past few weeks I just cannot, and have not, felt anything else, essentially, but idiotically thrilled to the bone - more than at any other time in my life. I have, we have, a pretty difficult journey ahead of us, but the joy has superseded the terror, the love overwhelms the fear and, gradually, the shock disappears as the happy reality sinks in.

WOW! I'm going to be a MUM!

So THAT'S why my boobs are huge and I'm not drinking alcohol! (as if you hadn't guessed!)

And one of the weirdest things about it is my reaction, despite the trepidation and the negativity that surrounded me finding out, I'm now practically religious about it. A day after the test read positive, I went straight out and bought stretch mark cream and a massive pregnancy guide book. I was taking folic acid anyhow, but I threw myself totally into the being a new mum bit, eating fruit and broccoli with everything, giving up drinking, sometimes scaring myself in the process. I've started looking up old testament names (my name, Sarah is waaaaay old testament and I was wondering what other OT names I might like...), I've also turned into one of those women who talk about maternity stuff endlessly and coo at babies in the street and I've started manically tidying the house, buying new furniture (yes it did get delivered ok in the end) which is what they call "nesting" ha ha and yesterday, inspired by Giggles (at 6 weeks), I bought babysuits and booties, even though I was desperate to not get into all that til after this 12 week scan! I've even looked up child care and nurseries and schools already ! AGH!

I'm still scared and bewildered and a bit lonely. But I am lucky. My parents and brother have just been amazing, I am so bloody grateful to have had them there to talk to over and over and over again about everything. My gorgeous James has been so stunningly selfless, I have wished far too many times it was happening with him. Daren has been nothing but consistent and generous and wonderful, as always.

And it's thanks to Steph at work and Yan that I didn't run away from the situation altogether.

Due date 24th November 2008.

(*Forgive me the post title won't you?!)

Control Freaking

Today I was due a delivery of two new white sofas, a white coffee table and a white chest of drawers. The cleaner phoned up sick but said she could get a pal from the same agency to do the house. Jav (housemate) said he wasn't working from home this week either, so I had to ask the cleaner to ask her pal to take this delivery as no-one else would be in the house, which meant she had to come at 1pm rather than 10am, and stay for the usual four hours til 5.

This was sort of all sorted out yesterday.

But I am a control freak and the delivery/customer services of most companies is shocking as I've experienced first hand far too many times in the past.

This morning when I woke up, I instantly wondered if I should call or text my usual cleaner to check that her pal could get there for 1pm and all was ok because I hadn't heard anything specifically back to confirm she could. Because she had phoned in sick I didn't want to bother her, so instead I fretted and worried from about 8am to 11am, wondering if she'd get there ok.

I then thought perhaps I should call the furniture co to check the text they sent on Sunday which quoted the delivery time as being between 1- 5pm was still accurate and explain that perhaps there might not be someone there as I hadn't heard back from my cleaner about her pal and so perhaps I should organise something else, like, I could arrange to go home early, or zoom back through my lunch break instead.

Then I thought, maybe I should go to work and explain to my boss that my cleaner's sick and my housemate's not at home so I have to take off the afternoon to see in the delivery, but I'd have to leave at 12, and I start at 10, because I need to be there for 1 and knowing my luck they'd turn up exactly at 13.01 and, nah, he's not going to go for that, maybe I should take the whole day off?

No, stop, this is madness. I have made the plans, I should trust the company and trust my cleaner and her pal and not think of it again and when I get home tonight there will be lovely new sofas and furniture RIGHT?

Anything else is me freaking out for no reason and just being a control freaking lunatic, RIGHT?

It is 1800 and I am now going home. What do you think the likelihood of correctly delivered furniture is? Or if the cleaning lady's pal showed up on time? And did she know to answer the door and let him in? Or whether I have to wait another 3 weeks and take a day off and sit about, waiting and chasing and arguing with delivery companies and furniture companies?

Whaddyareckon?

Dreams

For three long and disturbing nights now, I have dreamt that a 60+ year old woman asks me to sleep with her and to teach her new tricks. She makes me dress up like a clown and other weird costumes. I feel sorry for her and do my best, but ultimately tell her to see a doctor.

If this is to be related to my life, it means I feel I am having to teach and entertain someone who is constantly moaning (like an old woman) because I feel sorry for them and yet who I think needs proper help.

And that would be about right!

Sometimes

I am glad that my dreams don't come true, but my wishes do.