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T Minus...
Jan. 11th, 2007 03:37 pmThere's Cherry Blossom on next door's little tree already. And yet the Chief Economist of Chrysler is claiming that Global Warming is just an invention of the Nasty Cheese Eating European Liberals. I'm sure that it's purely coincedental that Chrysler make big, shiny cars.
(*thinks* I wonder if anybody has yet come up with a claim that Global Warming isn't a real threat who doesn't have a lot of wonga to lose by us all being forced to cut down oncarbon emissions...?)
Also, floods floods floods everywhere. Noting this down for when the water companies claim they don't have water in the summer because it's been 'another unusually dry winter' and not that they're incompetant I can point to the fact it's been raining solid for about a month when I complain. They're going to shut down the M20 for operation stack *again* (basically, for everybody who's not me or Flossie, Kent police have this 'emergency' procedure for when the Ferries can't leave Dover docks - they close down the M20 - a very major motorway running from London to Dover, covering most of Kent - and use it as a lorry park for all the freights that are waiting for the Ferries. Result? Lots of cold, pissed-off Truckers stuck on a motorway with little access to food/drink/toilets and traffic chaos all over the rest of Kent as people try to find other routes. This is supposed to be used only in absolute emergency but it was done 6 or 7 times last year and doing it again so early in 2007 is a bad sign.) The selfish jist of this is that I hope Mum has no trouble getting down since she's coming down once babe is with us - you have to use the M20 to get from the West side of the country into Kent.
Today is very weird. Keep reminding myself that (unless the unthinkable happens) this'll be my last day at home before I'm a Mummy. Very very odd having such a set date, with everything having been so up in the air for so long. Didn't sleep well last night worrying about it. Worried about the pain, worried that the medical intervention is going to make an already very tough job even harder. Worried because I'll be away from my usual Midwife & Obstetrician, who know me and my various medical phobias and that I'll get someone horrible who'll just roll her eyes when I tell her I freak out when people do my blood pressure/try to take blood or insert a needle in a vein in general/try to do an internal and think I'm some sort of wussy hypochondriac (OK, maybe I *am* a wussy hypochondriac!) Not really bothered about painful contractions, having had gallstones and pancreaitis I'm used to bad internal pain, it's the foofie pain I'm worried about. I hate staying at hospitals too. Fuck! This seemed like such a good idea when we were trying to get me pregnant. And I know it'll all be worth it in the long run, I'm just really scared about what's coming.
Why can't I be like one of these women you hear about who don't even know they're in Labour until 5 minutes before they pop, eh? Why can't my life turn into a sitcom for a few hours? Sudden, inconveniant water-breakage, a mad dash to the hospital with all my friends and a handsome policeman who stops us for speeding and then takes pity on us and gives us an escort, five minutes of slightly sweaty-browed pushing (most of it in the police car) and then get handed a very well behaved baby with no greater trauma to my body than slightly ruffled hair?
Anyhoo, that's about it. Fingers crossed, lallies & jellyspoons.
(*thinks* I wonder if anybody has yet come up with a claim that Global Warming isn't a real threat who doesn't have a lot of wonga to lose by us all being forced to cut down oncarbon emissions...?)
Also, floods floods floods everywhere. Noting this down for when the water companies claim they don't have water in the summer because it's been 'another unusually dry winter' and not that they're incompetant I can point to the fact it's been raining solid for about a month when I complain. They're going to shut down the M20 for operation stack *again* (basically, for everybody who's not me or Flossie, Kent police have this 'emergency' procedure for when the Ferries can't leave Dover docks - they close down the M20 - a very major motorway running from London to Dover, covering most of Kent - and use it as a lorry park for all the freights that are waiting for the Ferries. Result? Lots of cold, pissed-off Truckers stuck on a motorway with little access to food/drink/toilets and traffic chaos all over the rest of Kent as people try to find other routes. This is supposed to be used only in absolute emergency but it was done 6 or 7 times last year and doing it again so early in 2007 is a bad sign.) The selfish jist of this is that I hope Mum has no trouble getting down since she's coming down once babe is with us - you have to use the M20 to get from the West side of the country into Kent.
Today is very weird. Keep reminding myself that (unless the unthinkable happens) this'll be my last day at home before I'm a Mummy. Very very odd having such a set date, with everything having been so up in the air for so long. Didn't sleep well last night worrying about it. Worried about the pain, worried that the medical intervention is going to make an already very tough job even harder. Worried because I'll be away from my usual Midwife & Obstetrician, who know me and my various medical phobias and that I'll get someone horrible who'll just roll her eyes when I tell her I freak out when people do my blood pressure/try to take blood or insert a needle in a vein in general/try to do an internal and think I'm some sort of wussy hypochondriac (OK, maybe I *am* a wussy hypochondriac!) Not really bothered about painful contractions, having had gallstones and pancreaitis I'm used to bad internal pain, it's the foofie pain I'm worried about. I hate staying at hospitals too. Fuck! This seemed like such a good idea when we were trying to get me pregnant. And I know it'll all be worth it in the long run, I'm just really scared about what's coming.
Why can't I be like one of these women you hear about who don't even know they're in Labour until 5 minutes before they pop, eh? Why can't my life turn into a sitcom for a few hours? Sudden, inconveniant water-breakage, a mad dash to the hospital with all my friends and a handsome policeman who stops us for speeding and then takes pity on us and gives us an escort, five minutes of slightly sweaty-browed pushing (most of it in the police car) and then get handed a very well behaved baby with no greater trauma to my body than slightly ruffled hair?
Anyhoo, that's about it. Fingers crossed, lallies & jellyspoons.
