I’ve just had my week 34 appointment (a bit early as I’m 33 weeks and 3 days).
The midwife measured my belly from the bottom of my ribs to my pubic bone and the size was normal – which indicates that baby’s size is on track. I was worrying a tad because my weight gain has slowed down recently and stopped at 18 pounds. I can’t gorge food the way I did in the second trimester as my stomach is squashed by the baby – I’ve effectively been given a gastric band.
My lust for cake and Krispy Kremes has mercifully waned over the last couple of weeks, too. Of course, if you handed me one I’d consume it enthusiastically, but I don’t go sniffing them out like a crazed Labrador anymore. I’m sure more than one person in the office has noticed me attending the leaving speeches and birthday gatherings of people I’ve never met and shamelessly loitering around the cake. I’d clap along after the speeches and then wait a respectable 30 seconds before precisely aligning myself in front of the plates in order to slyly collect my rationing before the masses bumbled forth. Once I’d secured my prize, I’d slink away like a dog with a chicken bone to savour it’s spongey sweetness in peace. Thankfully, those desperate days are over.
The baby is relaxing in her uterine pad transverse style at the moment i.e. sideways. There are two naval orange-sized balls on each side of my abdomen that sink and resurface throughout the day – one is her head and the other is her little rump. I think the ball on the right hand side is her head because this is where her hiccups emanate from. It’s not a problem right now because she has time and space to move, but she needs to get herself into a vertical position in the next few weeks or the medics will need to intervene. I understand they can try to turn the baby from the outside. There are also some less invasive things I can do, like getting on all fours and sticking my bum in the air to give her room to turn – or playing music and flashing lights where we need her head to go, to try and entice her down. What I like to think of as the ‘Pied Piper technique’. You can also try putting some ice where her head is to encourage her to move out of her current position. A little discourteous, but perhaps necessary. If all of this fails – she will need to come out via c-section, but it’s too early to speculate on this yet. I think about all the babies in history who were transverse before we had clever doctors and c-sections. They all would have perished along with their mothers.
I was rudely awoken this morning at 5:30am with a very painful calf cramp. It just seized up and locked into one position, trapping a nerve. I’ve read that it happens to pregnant women, and I’ve had niggling restless leg syndrome over the last few weeks, but this cramp was unpleasant. I was wailing out and Jake woke up and massaged it back into place.
My hair is now mane-like. I’ve only noticed losing about eleven hairs since the start of the pregnancy (and I usually have to routinely pull out golf ball-sized lumps of it from the shower plug hole to allow the water to go down).
Shame I can’t keep it – the excess will all drop out after the baby is born. Jake’s pet theory is that pregnant women retain all their hairs as a hangover from their cave women days, so they can shed the hairs after the birth and make a bed / nest for their newborn.
I think it’s so the big hair can visually balance out the size of the pregnant woman’s body, and distract her mate from noticing that she’s ballooned to the size of a festival portaloo. I’ve also read that it’s to try and salvage some sexual allure for the male and stop him running off with a lithe, non-pregnant and invariably less grumpy female.