Eight months pregnant: how did that happen?!

Oh how time verily flies when you are busier than Father Christmas during the Festive season... Yes, that's right, R is now eight months pregnant and we are just four and a half weeks from the due date. 

What have we been up to? Where have we been? You may well ask... (Actually you may not, but I'll tell you anyway.)

We have explored the delights of being the only same-sex couple in our antenatal class. I must say though, it was well worth it. What I don't know about the three phases of labour (yes, count them, three) isn't worth knowing. We were then the only same-sex couple in the breast feeding class. Scratch that, we were the only couple. I felt for the rest of the mums to be, all alone. I got to practice with a doll and everything! That bit was good. The slightly fascist breast feeding teacher was a bit much to take. The general message seemed to be 'breastfeed or die'. Now while I agree that it is ideal, it really isn't the be all and end all. 

We have also (whisper it) moved! Yes, that's right, seven weeks before R's due date we moved out of our two bedroomed flat into a three bedroomed house. It has been hard work - see image to get an idea of what I've mostly been doing - but it has been well worth it. We now have a garden and a room just for baby. 

The birthing bag is now packed and we are, sort of, ready. Obviously I realise that no one is ever really ready, but we've done all we can.

Do I even exist?

We had a wonderful time in a sleepy Continental village last week, savouring the sunshine and peace and quiet. As babymoons go, it was pretty good. However, in the staunchly Catholic environment I found myself vanishing. Everyone wanted to talk to R about the baby and when she was due to give birth. She has quite a spectacular bump now. Every time they spoke to her though, they looked at me, and then looked away, not sure of my role. One man even asked R if she was married, and even though she explained she was married to me, he seemed confused as to where the husband was.

I'm slowly growing used to the uneasy looks of people who aren't quite sure if I'm a friend or some kind of hanger-on. I guess it has meant I haven't needed to answer any of the inevitable parent-to-be questions about sleep deprivation and whether I'm excited. But even so, I felt pushed out of the picture. What's more concerning perhaps is that I didn't push myself back into the picture, I just let them get on with it. After all, I don't know them. But all of a sudden I think that perhaps I have a responsibility to educate them. But then, is that my job? It's all so tiring!

My baby's heart beat

I heard my baby's heart beat on Monday. It was extraordinary. Every now and again between the rhythmic beats there were little pops and clicks. They were the sound of our little tyke wriggling around.

I've been thinking very much about our child today. I've had a shockingly bad day at work, and R reminded me that there are much more important things to think about - such as our baby. She's right. In just five months I will have a son or daughter. Really, compared to a bad day at work, that's just incredible. It's fascinating how quickly priorities change isn't it?

Only three weeks now until our 20 week scan where the midwife will check for any problems and also, hopefully, tell us if we are expecting a boy or a girl. We do want to know, although we really don't have a preference. I can't wait to find out, but of course then we will face the inevitable name discussions...

So, now, when things get tough at work, I'm going to think again about my baby's heart beat.

Top ten comments on discovering you are expecting a baby

When you discover that a friend is expecting a baby, what do you say? Think carefully, and then read the comments below. These are the ones that R and I now have stock answers for...

1. Well, that will change your life forever. Yes, marvellous, thank you for that, we hadn't realised...
2. Is it a boy or a girl? We don't know yet.
3. Will you find out? Yes, but we don't mind either way.
4. Well, make the most of any sleep you get now, in a few months you won't get any. Excellent, that's very helpful. Thank you.
5. When is it due? September.
6. Did you have IVF? This is one for those of us who don't have an obvious man in our lives. The answer is no.
7. Ooh, children are a gift aren't they? Yes they are. But I am not sure I need to hear that phrase ever again.
8. Let me tell you about my traumatic/unpleasant/painful/tragic childbirth story... No, please don't.
9. To R when she is feeling ghastly: Oh you look really well. Nope, she's not, she feels like death warmed up. Thanks though.
10. Will you move to a bigger place? No - having a child is hard work enough without moving house too. 

I am tempted now to refer everyone to this link. Yes, I know I sound churlish. In fact I am totally guilty of some of the above myself. Perhaps we could come up with some alternatives?

Donor etiquette...

I had an odd thought the other day...

Someone I know who is in a same sex relationship asked if me and R might share some of our conception experiences. I of course said yes - anything we can do to ease someone else's path. We were fortunate to have similar help from friends.

It was at that point I thought that we had the perfect sperm donor to recommend - as though I was recommending a lumber or something. A very odd concept.

What is the etiquette here?!