24 days to go until my due date. I'm feeling rather big and slow. Last time I went to see the doctor, he said the baby was about 2 kg 900. This comes with an error margin of nearly half a kilo, but on the 3D echo we could see the face of a non-skinny baby. We have been told we can expect a 4 kg baby perhaps, if he comes on time.
The heat is too much. I can't move very well because of the summersaults on top of my bladder already, but the heat just makes me stop altogether. Babes showed me (again) why he is the best husband in the world today when he took the children out of the house leaving me to sleep through the hottest part of the day, naked next to a fan.
My world is becoming tiny. I can see only the house, my family, some chores. I seem to be incapable of looking any further. My lovely sister An, may her clouds be lined with silver and her boots with velvet, has moved house so she now is living closer to me than ever. I feel removed from the whole process. My adorable little brother has a new job, and it took me over a week to phone him to find out how he's getting on. (He loves it.) My self-absorption knows no bounds.
The baby himself is doing great. He is moving about all over the place. He seems to cope with Marie flinging herself at me/him violently whenever I sit/lie on the sofa, which is all the time really. It's no use telling her to be careful for baby - I am her mother and she will fling herself as she pleases. I can't get too cross because the world is hard enough for her to deal with as it is just now. She's being moved into a "big girl's room", potty training, just finished creche, first summer holidays, soon going to school. Her room, bed, buggy and playpen are being stolen by a baby who is still invisible apart from the big bump making her mother malfunction. She is going through a very confusing time, and coping admiringly well. Apart from refusing to sleep and hitting people. So I overcompensate with hugs, extra attention and sweets.
The temperature chart for our part of the world tomorrow is teasing me. To the West of us 22 degrees, to the East 32. We're exactly on the line between the two. I'm wondering who I have to sell my soul to so we end up on the good side of this divide. Please bring on the rain. If it stays this hot until August, I will beg my gynaecologist to get this baby out. I just can't imagine one more kilo of baby kicking my internal organs at this temperature for another month. It can't be done, I tell you. In fact, I'm going to try and visualise the birth every day, and I'm hoping to bring on the birth naturally by the end of the month by sheer force of will and imagination.