I haven’t written in ages, mostly because the website went down because of some inept fiddling on my part, and I never got around to getting in contact with Dreamhost to get it fixed because I got sucked into a whirlwind of activity and busyness.

On a high-level, post-October 2012, which was my last entry, I have done the following:
November ’12: Applied for the Fl@t *ron School (an intensive Ruby on Rails programming course in NYC, and got accepted)
December ’12: Discovered I was pregnant (*gulp*)
January ’13: Busy preparing for my 3-month stint in NYC – doing a LOT of pre-work, looking into accommodation options in NYC
February-April ’13: Programming up a storm – was a pretty stressful, frustrating yet exhilarating time for me
May ’13: Visited my friend, the Boy flew over, we got married by Elvis in Vegas, went on a 2-week honeymoon roadtrip, and then came back to London
June ’13: Third trimester of my pregnancy included a lot of hospital visits, trying to get an elective C-section on the NHS, some reading up on babycare
July ’13: More hospital visits and appointments to actually finally get my NHS elective C-sec approved (had to be certified psycho after 3 rounds of interviews to get it approved), ante-natal classes, finally doing some Tadpole-related shopping (I didn’t want to get started too early, because then I’ll end up buying a bunch of redundant stuff and fill the flat)

And finally, tomorrow is D-day for me, the Boy and Tadpole. We’ll meet each other face to face for the first time at the labour ward in the Clarence Wing at St Mary’s (where Baby Cambridge was born, albeit in the Lindo wing).

My feelings about the pregnancy, Tadpole and impending motherhood (doom) have varied. I started out being completely stressed and traumatised (no, not now. it’s inconvenient), and we did consider termination. But because of various factors (history, friends’ circumstances, potential for regret) and also because we felt that a Champion Sperm deserved to live… we decided to keep the baby, after we agreed that no matter what, I’d get a caesarean, either NHS or privately.

The first trimester was awful. I had pretty bad all-day-sickness, although I only actually physically sicked up once – just outside my door. I saw down on the floor and threw up in a plastic bag. Eating bang on the dot at 8am, 12pm, 4pm, and 7pm was the best way to keep my nausea at bay. But being even a few minutes late, meant that I would walk very slowly so as not to puke up, or stop suddenly (even in the middle of the road!) and heave (without anything coming up, thankfully). I continued poling at the start, but stopped when nausea set in. Happily, I only started getting nauseous around week 6-7 and it had mostly tapered off by week 11.

The second trimester was generally great. I wasn’t really showing much, having a great time in NYC, learning new stuff, living out my dream of living in NYC, and partying… I was still dancing and having a great time at karaokes or music bars. Although I was very careful about avoiding slippery areas on the floor where beer got spilled, and towards the end, I had to be more careful about my moves and modify a lot of my usual moves. But I didn’t really like a lot of the changes my body was going through – developing a hint of linea nigra, getting fatter and flabbier since I couldn’t pole and I exercised a lot less – still once or twice a week on average. I became a lot weaker (although I still acquitted myself extremely well at a Bootcamp session organised by school).

Third trimester… not so great… My pelvic area felt very heavy and walking became difficult at some point – but then it improved. And I had an STD-scare at some point, related to the pelvic-heaviness I think. Apparently, they were just varicose veins, and not at all STD-related. But I was freaked out because it was all new for me. And then there was the stress and anxiety over the NHS and an elective C-sec: will they or won’t they? Which was really unkind of them – not at all good for the baby I don’t think. I had really bad hayfever and couldn’t (or wouldn’t) take meds for it, so I was constantly sneezing, coughing and my eyes were itching like a b*tch. I got heavier and less mobile and more awkward. My lower back began to hurt again (it had stopped in the second trimester after I bought a Tempur Body Pillow). I started to have slightly swollen fingers and my finger joints would hurt in the morning (carpal tunnel apparently). I only ended up exercising once every week or fortnight. And I haven’t exercised at all in the last  4 weeks, although I still walk around a lot most days. I gave up the emotional fight against linea nigra and have unhappily accepted it. Strangely enough, towards the end, I’ve become kind of strangely fascinated and almost proud of my bump… I guess, it’s because my body looks so different from its usual self that I’ve stopped worrying about it, and consider it a totally new, alien species that is temporarily acceptable. Nonetheless, last night (2 nights before my delivery), I dreamed that I was looking through pole class schedules, trying to decide which to sign up for. When I told the Boy, he was like: “Is this really your biggest worry?” In my defence, I think it’s just because I’m getting ready for Tadpole to come out and be part of our lives, and then for my life to return to normal(ish), which means I need to get back into shape, and poling is part of that. 🙂

On the other hand, I’m lucky that I didn’t experience heartburn, and I slept pretty well throughout my pregnancy. Didn’t wake up to pee too muche etc. So I feel pretty lucky.

Tadpole started kicking fairly late. But once he started kicking, he would kick regularly when I woke up in the mornings, when I was in bed getting ready to sleep at night, and every mealtime – generally quite reassuring that he has a good sense of rhythm and routine. He would be particularly active at fine dining restaurants – which probably indicates he’s a gourmet! As the pregnancy progressed, he moved less often, but still at least once a day to reassure me that he’s alive I suppose. But his movements were less regular (sometimes in the middle of the night. tsk tsk), and he would burp or hiccup a lot – at least that’s how I interpret the short periods of regular pulsing movements from him. I rather disapprove of that too, as I rarely hiccup and don’t want to be dealing with a hiccupy baby (which I worry might mean he’s colicky, or requires a lot of burping and winding before putting down). But the Boy is inordinately proud of a hiccuping Tadpole because he himself hiccups pretty often. *sigh* *rolls eyes*

Overall, while I’ve been kind of anxious about having a kid, and the completely change of our lives that it will entail… at the very least, it will no longer be the two of us… until Tadpole turns 18 and can be kicked out of the family nest. But after lugging him around for so many months (Nature is quite cunning in that respect (and many others)!!), I’m keen for Tadpole to pop out already and just get it over and done with. Waiting longer is not going to improve matters, since the change is inevitable. And the sooner he appears, the sooner we get to know our little man, and the sooner we can see how we can fit him into our lives. Because that’s what we intend to do… we love and want him to be happy. But he’s coming into OUR lives… so he needs to fit his needs around ours as well, and we’ll need to find a good balance and compromise so that the family’s happiness is maximised.

So…. tomorrow, a new life begins… or at least the old life is turned topsy turvy for while, before a (hopefully happy) equilibrium is reached.