Still no sign of the little Pip. (and this blog is going to get a bit repetitive for the next week if that doesn’t change). Whilst I am trying to ‘get on with life’, being heavily pregnant and uncomfortable means that life is essentially lounging, reading, eating, sleeping and finishing my online shopping. None of which is a terribly good distraction from the most unknown but life changing experience that I know is coming.
We saw the midwife yesterday and all is ok. Blood pressure fine, heartbeat good and regular. My tummy measures 40cm but Pip’s head is still 4/5 palpable which it has been for the last 7 weeks. Her advice – sex, spicy food, raspberry leaf tea, walking and resting. Keep fluid intake high. Wait.
I was particularly pleased to hear sex was an option again, after being advised at the hospital 3 weeks ago to abstain as it caused unspecified bleeding. The midwife was somewhat dismissive of this, saying only “well, now we want this baby out”.
Anyway, in honour of Pip reaching his due date, we celebrated on the way back from the appointment by going for coffee and sharing a slice of chocolate cake in a French cafe. I also baked 20 blueberry muffins, either to sustain myself through boredom, through labour, or, as something to offer visitors if Pip ever does make an appearance. Each day he doesn’t arrive is a step nearer to the c-section conversation on Monday with the consultant that I really don’t wish to have.
I keep dreaming of a blonde haired baby, facing away from me in a sling, and I am sniffing the back of the baby’s head, which smells lovely. But then this gets interspersed with nightmares about Delilah (the cat) where I am having to rescue her and resuscitate her, and I wake up sweating all over, even from my head.