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A little laugh goes a long way!

Is it so wrong that I find myself so funny?

The other night I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep when I told myself something funny … inside of my head.. and laughed out loud.

Now if I’d been home alone it would have been fine, but Lee heard me. It’s kind of like that whole – if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Personally, I cannot help myself. I like to laugh, and if I can supply the laughter to myself, more power to me. It saves on entertainment bills when you can just lock me in the dark and let me tell myself jokes.

That’s so long as there are no gypsies out. In the dark on those nights I am not as jovial, I must admit.

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Gosh.

I am starting to get a complex. Every time I say “Gosh”, Lee starts to giggle. Apparently I remind him of Napoleon Dynamite.

I hope it’s just the Gosh and not the hair… or the dance moves.

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1/4 of the way there!

We’ve reached the 10 week mark.  Tick tick tick.. two weeks from now, Lee and I will be getting over the Las Vegas to Toronto jet lag and breathing easier as we hit the magical 12 week mark.

Any hope that BOB was going to settle down and let me get some energy before we head off on our Summer Holidays has been put up high on a dusty shelf, surely never to be seen again. But you know what? It is okay.  I’d rather be sick and happy than not be sick and either sad or worried.  So long as the Tiniest Human is showing me who’s boss, I’ll be content because at least I’ll know she is there.  Or he, of course.

Today I had two appointments. One with the GP who just told me to keep on enjoying the pregnancy – after I’d told her how I constantly feel like someone is choking me and when I don’t feel that I am either crying or asleep.

Then I saw the midwife.  She is so much better than I expected. Better than we expected really. Lee came along and we were both taken aback by the fact that she was not 49, jaded, serious and smelling like old lady in a hospital.  Nope, our midwife is young, in Chuck Taylor’s with a camouflage skirt and a nice tattoo on the shoulder.  And she told me I could have one piece of tuna sushi.  So I like her.  I like her a lot.

She put my mind at ease and even told me that I do not have to have BOB at MK General, but that she will arrange a tour later on so I can check it out and see.  She also told me that people are a lot friendlier there than I think, and that they too (I compare everything with Portland Hospital) have a lot of Scottish midwives working there.  And when I said that MK General won’t give me champagne when it is all over, she said that I could have it brought in.  Too true.  That news just made Lee relieved that he didn’t have to sneak it under his jacket like he’d planned.

So with 210 days 16 hours and 30 minutes to go (according to Lee’s guesstimate lunch time delivery), I need to get me some sleep so that I have the tiniest chance to stand up to the Warrior Within.

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A Whisper on the Wind

Yesterday Lee and I tool a very shaky drive up to Stratford-Upon-Avon, where my only glimmer of hope was held in a small plastic condiment bag from McDonalds.  Luckily it wasn’t used for anything other than to hold on to as I tried to talk myself down from the Dry Heave/Vomit tree and once in a while as a Let’s Control Your Breathing Tool.

We finally arrived at Chez Brotherston, where I was happily plopped on the sofa, trying not to appear too out of it, considering we hadn’t told them yet.  The struggle was completely uphill as the conversation unfolded, but the opportunity to share the news was looking like it would never arrive, and my state of health was like a tiny snowball slowly rolling down a mountain gathering more snow as it went, threatening to become an avalanche.

The party moved into the kitchen for lunch, where I convinced myself that I had to eat something to make this feeling somewhat subside.  Luckily, Lee will all of the subtlety in the world waited until the bums had barely hit the seats before blurting it out.  A wave of relief washed over me as I could now be excused for looking like I hadn’t slept in months, and my nearly Baby Powder white complexion was explained, but I was almost too nervous to look up to see a reaction.

However, nervous I needed not be as Lee’s parents where thrilled.   They even brought out baby name books for us to look at.  Being from pre-Lee’s birth, they offered us more of a giggle than help.  Names I thought were completely made up actually appeared in them.  And names that should never be names did as well.   An example being Lesbia. Lesbia N. Brotherston.   Not quite the ring I was looking for.

But it was entertaining and a relief to actually have been able to tell them our news face to face, as I had been struggling with the fact that they hadn’t been told and I didn’t want it to be done over the phone or in a text message: u r going 2 b grandparents.

Lee’s now just got off of the phone with his Nan who is also over the moon.  It helps that the Estimated Date of Arrival is her birthday, but aside from being excited about that, she is just excited at the prospect of seeing a great grandchild.  I never even thought of it in those terms before she said it.   I mean obviously the way it works is that Lee’s grandmother becomes our child’s great grandmother, but I just don’t think of her in that way.  She’s just got too much spirit in her to be a great-grandmother.

Wow. This baby is going to have a lot of family.  Until today, I’ve really not thought about it.  2 parents, 3 uncles (2 aunts by marriage),  4 grandparents, 3 great-grandparents + 1 Margaret which really makes it 4, 6 great-aunts , 6 great-uncles, 2 great-great-aunts and 28 second cousins.  That is not even counting all of the friends of the family that end up being called auntie and uncle.

Looks like I am going to have to organise a BOB on Tour extravaganza!

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9 weeks in…

…and I actually didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night last night to pee.

In fact, I went to sleep at 11pm and almost slept through the night – aside from waking up every time I rolled over – not getting out of bed until about 7.30am.

Another bonus about today is that I do not feel so sick just yet.  Though it does feel like Lee was walking on my boobs with high heels whilst I slept.  Though I’ve not confronted him yet, just in case I’m right!

Week 9 Update: BOB weighs about 2 grams, and is between 2-2.5 centimetres (not even a full inch) long.  This may seem tiny, but around Sunday, the little bugger can start peeing inside of me.

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The Littlest Human

BOB's In The House

Tada!

Over the past year I’ve had gained a lot, lost a lot, but most of all I’ve learnt a lot.  One of the things that I’ve learnt, is that Lee and I are great at getting pregnant.  I’m not so hot on staying that way, but this time seems to be the real deal. *knock on wood/fingers crossed/any other superstitious stuff to help us out*

After a day of pub crawling in London with Lee, Steph and Colin, and a lovely dinner at Yo Sushi!, I discovered that “we are not alone”.  It made a lot of sense as I had been quite nauseous for a few days and having some annoying ovary pains that usually come when I’m ovulating.  Okay, maybe I’ll skip over the gory details… for now.  I spent the next couple of days watching everyone drink, trying not to pass out or throw up and just wanting to go to sleep… but I was happy all the same.

Anyway, so now we know.  In fact, we’ve known for weeks now.  Tuesday will be 9 weeks which isn’t a milestone for most people, but we are over the moon.  We shall hit 12 weeks on the red-eye from Las Vegas to Toronto.  This little life is going to be well travelled, while I can still handle it!

This blog will not be made public until we hit the crucial end of first trimester, but I will update it as often as I can, and when the news is out there for all to know, you can catch up to what has been happening in the wild and crazy world of the Brotherston’s.

Don’t get too excited.  A lot of my time is spent sleeping.  Or dry heaving.

There are currently: 219 days until BOB’s EDA.  (and 286 until my birthday… but who’s counting?)

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Why Another Blog?

This is a blog of The Adventures of BOB (originally known as Poncho – Lee tried hard to get Eric Estrada in there).

The reason why I am not just updating my regular blog is that I wanted to make one that was baby specific.  This allows me to still be mental old me in my normal blog and not shove baby baby baby down the throats of those who aren’t particularily interested.

That, and we are doing this pre-general release of the news, so it might just blow our cover to throw it out there onto the regular blog.

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Reason #7347 Why I Married Lee

For this man has no shame

Last night we returned home from a little grocery shopping trip. When we got out of the car and were retrieving the eco-friendly reusable bags (we’re listening Al and Leo!) from the trunk, Lee blurts out with “I am Nipples McGee”. This was not in a hushed tone in an attempt to make my otherwise irritable self laugh, and nor was it shouted from the rooftops, but in a normal booming voice as a nice aged couple walked by hand in hand and our neighbours had their windows wide open to enjoy the late but welcome warm summer air.

When I requested between stifled giggles for him to be quiet, he got this extremely proud look upon his face, stuck his chin up in the air and announced that he doesn’t care who hears him.

Rock on, Nipples, Rock on.