Write

So, I was going to be referring to the kid as 'Dude' seeing as I don't know its sex. But then wanttobeatree dubbed it 'Scribble' and that's too cute and perfect not to use, so there it is.

Scribble is a pain in the ass. No, seriously. It waits until I collapse into bed, having cunningly made me exhausted all day as I have a job where I stand for between 7-10 hours a day. And then decides that 'Oh! Mum's stopped moving! Now would be a great time for a dialouge.'

And indeed, there is dialouge. Scribble does not have a large vocabulary at present. In fact, it is non-existant and so, I just get kicked a lot. Or punched or elbowed or whatever. Sometimes Scribble decides that somersaults will get the point across better. Whee! And I respond by sighing. And then asking politely for it to please calm down. And three hours later, I am generally swearing.

Also, there is the way I can be standing at work, talking or working or whatever and then a kick to the bladder comes out of nowhere in a David-Beckham-taking-a-brilliant-free-kick sty-le. That's always fun. And the way that if I eat anything bigger or more filling than an apple or bit of meat, I have to go sit down for ten minutes 'cos I get all dizzy and feel ill standing up.

And the worst thing of all? I don't mind. It's horrid. I mean, for the last two weeks I've had an endless stream of appointments with nurses, doctors, scan-people and midwives. I've had to tell my mother, father, friends, Steve, my boss, everyone at work. I've read endless literature on babies and labour and childbirth (and god, frankly there are some things that I did not need to see). I'm knackered and don't feel well. Next week I have to go see a consultant and no doubt be subjected to the kind of intimate examination I've avoided my entire life. It's all a giant pain.

And I don't care. It'll be worth it, I reckon (Scribble, you'd better be worth it). So bring it on. Yeah! :D!

Omg people, make sure you use contraception.