No, not Nelly, BOB.

That’s right, BOB’s got her (or his) first set of wheels.   Many thanks to Lee’s wonderful parents for kitting BOB out in the softest and coolest stroller.  Sure sure, there is a lot of time before BOB’s first ride, but we’re ready for it!  In fact, not only does BOB have wheels, but also a teddy bear soft snowsuit to make the Three Roundabout ride home from the hospital (that is assuming that I stay with MK General for some unknown reason).

Now all BOB needs is a blinged out baby bottle/pimp cup and we’re rocking.

Oh, and somewhere to sleep.  And maybe a couple of diapers.  But, time is on our side and hopefully I’ll hit the 16 week mark and find I’ve got this elusive energy that everyone promises me I am going to have once again.

We’ll see.

For now though, this Baby Momma is just happy to know that BOB’s got a ride home from the hospital.

Check it out:

BOB's Whips

This morning at work I was discussing various ways to make BOB pay for having me feeling this ill when I’ve gone and passed the 12 week mark and now the 14 week mark.  Everyone says I should be feeling better, but the only thing is that I can sleep through the night – sort of.  What I mean is that I do not have to pee at 4am anymore.  I just have the weirdest dreams/nightmares.  Like the other night when I dreamt that Lee fed me raw chicken wings or the night after when I dreamt that he forced me to chain smoke and then refused to help me when I got a cramp in my leg.  Those are my dreams thanks to BOB.

Anyway, I digress.  Whilst discussing which country I could move to so that I may escape child abuse laws, I kept feeling this …this feeling.  It felt like. Well it felt like a sound I can make but cannot type out because there really is no phonetic way to type blrrrrrrrrrrr and really get your point across.  It was like someone was blowing a chain of bubbles in my stomach at random times.  No pain involved, not panicky response.  Just this odd sensation that came over me a few times.  By late afternoon it had stopped and I had wondered what on earth that was.  Could be good old gas? If so, why didn’t it feel harder, more uncomfortable… and where did it go?  So I gave up thinking about it.

That was until I was telling my aunt how I still feel like a pile of poo.  Oh, and I don’t look much better I may add.  And I described what I had felt.  She explained that it was BOB moving. Not kicking but moving and rubbing against something.  She had experienced the same thing.  And explained that it wouldn’t continue on through now, but would probably stop and then come back again later.

And that’s cool by me!  Because just knowing that she or he is in there enjoying the space whilst they have it, makes up for the triple eye bags in the lovely shade of onyx, the all day long nausea, the headaches and inability to catch up on sleep no matter how long I sleep for.  Know that it is all good in BOB’s hood makes me a happy bunny and all is forgiven.

For now.

Countdown Time: 180 days 14 hours 15 minutes left*

(*12 noon guesstimate provided by the daddy-to-be)

For the past year, I have been dreading today. Not sure of how I would be able to deal with it or how I am supposed to feel. Not sure if anyone else wants me to bring it up or if they’d rather deal with things in their own way.

For a while there I thought that I was going to be okay. That I wasn’t going to have this massive breakdown that I am sure most people expect my crazy-filled self to have. Then I started with my spontaneous crying in Las Vegas and I knew I had been fooling myself and no one else.

When I arrived back in England last Sunday I had a meltdown. Whether brought on my jet lag, pregnancy related hormone madness or just pure grief, I felt myself feeling exactly how I’d felt the day I lost my Daddy.

To be honest, I still feel that way. I thought that it would get easier. A lot easier than it has. But it is hard to let go of the feeling that it is not fair. That it shouldn’t have been him that the world lost on the 18th of August last year. And I strongly believe still, that it shouldn’t have been him.

What has been hardest is all of the unanswered questions. I cannot comment on the hurt, loss, emptiness, or sadness that you feel when you lose a parent after a long illness. Surely, the pain is as great as anyone who loses their parent suddenly, but there exists an opportunity for all that needs to be said to be said. You have a chance to make sure that person knows how much they mean to you and how much you love them. I never had that chance, and I never will. And all I want to know is if he truly knew how much he was loved.

I don’t think he did. And as much as people try and convince me that he knew, there is only one person who could have known, and I’ve lost him.

So here I am a year later, nearly 14 weeks pregnant and feeling like a lost little girl all over again. I am sure that I will make it through today, and tomorrow, and all the days that follow on, but it is difficult to ever get back the girl I was before this all happened since I will never know: a) if he knew how much I loved him and how much he meant to me and b) if he felt completely lonely when he went through the terrible thing he went through.

I had been hoping to have a somewhat quiet and sombre day, but it looks as though I can give up on that idea. Though I’ve got to think of the poor baby inside of me who must think her or his mother is a complete lunatic with all of the nose blowing, shakes from crying and coughing from this chest cold that is going on.

If my Daddy was here, he’d know how to make me feel better. Well, I wouldn’t be sad, but he’d be able to help me get through all of my not so lovely pregnancy side-effects. And I think that is what is making this seem all that much sadder. I always counted on my Daddy to be here when I went through this stage of my life. I always imagined that he’d be able to answer all of the questions that I have and be able to get me through any scary parts. And at the end, he’d most likely be the happiest person (aside from myself and Lee) because that is all he really wanted for when he died. Now, he is the only person who doesn’t get to be a part of this all. And that breaks my heart over and over again.

I’m still waiting to wake up, but a year on I am guessing I should start accepting that I will never have my questions answered, I will never get to say all of the things I wish I had and I will never get to say goodbye.

I just hope that I can properly explain to BOB how much his or her grandad would have loved him or her… in fact how much he did, without ever knowing them.

…the long speculated, but often denied (well not really, but I was supposed to be denying it) rumour regarding my harbouring a homie in my tummy … has been confirmed. Not only that, but the clever clogs even has a blog of his own.

Okay, so perhaps he is not a brainiac quite yet and I am the one writing it, but still. With Lee as a father and parents who met on the Internet, is there any chance that this child will not be a computer whizz.

Oh, and no, I do not know if BOB is a boy, but I do know that she enjoys flitting about and karate chopping in my womb.

Rock on, Little BOB, Rock on!

All updates can be read at:

Ooh, you can also see his stunning first photograph there. What a hottie. Must take after her mother. 🙂

Earlier today I was convinced that BOB was going to pull attitude for having to suffer through the night with my inability to breathe and honking nose every few minutes. Before we’d arrived I’d prepared myself for total freeze out action – BOB basically giving us a look at the backside and that’s that. But no, I sold our child short. Instead, BOB threw up gang signs for us. Showing us all fingers and the thumb on the left hand and the boxing stance of the right hand. And all chilled out like the little homie he or she will eventually be.

So all is well in BOBLand. Heart a thumping, swimming away like she’s got somewhere to be, and Lee and I couldn’t be happier. They’ve put the due date at 19th February 2008 and we get to see the little dude again in 7 weeks! Can’t wait. For now .. until Lee sorts out a clearer picture… here is BOB!

BOB at 13 weeks