Thursday, August 9, 2007

Oliver can say ‘all gone’. He can say ‘bubbles’. And he loves to yell ‘diggers’ when he sees construction sites. Oh, how he loves those diggers. But has he said ‘mummy’, ‘mama’, ‘mum’, or even ‘mmmm’ yet? No.

Really, I am not resentful. I am actually thinking he has some sort of weird ‘m’ impediment. He can’t say any words that start with ‘m’. A cow moos, he knows that, but the moo sounds comes out sort of starting with a ‘v’. I can’t explain it properly. I should really take some video.

So I have to be content being daddy number 2. Despite being his primary caregiver.

As for baby number 2, I am basically just ignoring this pregnancy. Isn’t that wonderful of me. I had the irritation of an obs appointment today. Really, I find it completely inconvenient to go. I have to drive way out of my way, and they are really slow at that office, so despite being there before 9 when it opens, I am not out of there until 10. I mean, my doctor is a lovely woman, and I know they need to keep an eye on me, but it’s annoying. And I’d rather be at work. And now I’m moving into the home stretch, I have to start going once every two weeks. ARGH.

But this it the routine for everyone. And the good news is everything is fine and dandy with number 2. All tests, measurements, notes, whatever – it’s all perfect. Too bad I just am really not that interested. Doesn’t really bode well for the whole bonding process, does it?

Turns out my Dr has a degenerative muscle condition, poor woman, and is no longer attending births. We’ve been given the option of switching to another Obs. You know what? I sort of don’t care. Last time, the consultant I’d been seeing at the hospital wasn’t around when Oliver arrived, except I think he brought some students in at some point, and I didn’t notice. My aim is to get in there and get out as quickly as possible, and frankly, the messiness of the whole process means I am not bothered about whether someone is a stranger or not. Just as long as they are a professional!!

Despite everything being perfect, or rather probably because of it, I’m feeling like garbage all the time and it’s hard to get past it. At the end of last week, I had the pleasure of a killer sore throat. I thought it was strep, it was so bad, but the doctor said no, it’s a virus, suck it up. But I wasn’t sleeping, the pain was so bad. After a Friday night of not sleeping at all (we were in Ottawa with a lot of family), Saturday featured eating something that went down very wrong, resulting in lots of sick-to-my-stomach illness. And then not being able to eat properly until Monday night.

So combine lack of sleep, lack of food, severe stomach pain, and full time care of a toddler, and oh boy did I feel like crap. Like death, really. The other day I slipped and then my legs felt like they didn’t fit into my hips properly. Which sort of happens anyway around this time, but it was acute and it sucked. It hurts to bend over, to kneel down and play with Oliver, to pick him up. But it all has to be done.

I am really hoping that the extreme relief of not being pregnant when the time comes, that bliss that I remember so well from last time, will combine with that sort of innate need to take care of the new one, and I will be able to repair this relationship with him that doesn’t really seem that healthy. It’s not really nice to be thought of as a complete inconvenience before you are even born, but I really can’t help thinking that way right now. Poor kid. Therapy for you.

One Response to “”

  1. Suburban Mum Says:

    ST couldn’t say M for ages. He said B instead. Even now he gets letters mixed up – most N’s come out as L’s, some M’s are N’s. I was worried about it too, so I know where you’re coming from, all I can say is don’t worry about it too much just yet.

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