Oversharing in these blogs, I will let you decide. I have been told to start working on my pelvic floor. In actual fact I should have started 19 weeks ago but I “forgot”. So 19 weeks late I have started doing my pelvic floor exercises daily with the help of some alarms to remind me. I am extra motivated because I have been hearing some terrifying stories. I am not sure why people seem to have the need to tell me all about their urinary mishaps in horrifying detail. I almost unconsciously start squeezing my pelvic floor when I hear these stories and hope that just 5 minutes a day might stop the same from happening to me. Now this is where I overshare and tell you that having Babka rest on my bladder has led to many close calls [Mr. C: and much amusement] and I fear for the next few months and what kind of embarrassments may befall me. Not much else to report since I haven’t been cranky at all this week.
This week I promised Mr. C to continue the positive trend of last week and remain pleasant. That lasted all of one day. I didn’t realise that it was even a thing but I had a series of crashes due to low blood pressure and boy did the mood swings flare up with no way to extinguish them. On top of this I think the major episode was somewhat self-inflicted. Mr. C warned me it was risky but I didn’t listen to him so I went ahead and planned our wedding in 3 hours flat – I booked the registry office, I told everyone I knew and even arranged an officiant. I was feeling the best I have ever felt and I was glowing. Ok, getting married at 36 weeks pregnant might not have been my dream wedding but it would be fine! Mr. C triple asked me if I was sure about this pointing out that my cankles might not even handle carrying me down the aisle. [Mr. C: and dancing with a basketball hidden under the dress might be difficult]. So I went ahead and booked it and started telling people [Mr. C: e.g. everyone]. Then, literally the next day, shock horror and hello covid restrictions! I had to cancel everything. Mr. C had a brief smirk on his face as he announced he was pleased that it was cancelled as he was worried I might pee myself in front of the guests or my water might break at the ceremony. You can imagine my reaction to this….[Mr. C: to be clear I was not happy that the wedding was cancelled, I was happy I was right!]
Week 20 meant that I got to have my first scan! The cranks disappeared when I saw Babka on the screen and was told by the sonographer that all was well. Due to covid Mr. C could not join me at the scan and he also made clear that he did not want to know the sex. I on the other hand really wanted to know and now I have to keep my very big mouth shut for almost 18 weeks. Babka was very stubborn during the scan. To determine what sex Babka was I had to go to the bathroom and twerk. Yes, that’s right – the nurse instructed me to go TWERK. I did this for the prescribed 3 minutes and lo and behold it worked! When I went back and was reconnected to the machine Babka was moving and grooving and I found out the gender. Let’s see how long I can keep it a secret. [Mr. C – NOT LONG]
I’m really not a sadistic person though also not so much the most mature – I just find it incredibly amusing to be able to cause the love of my life to pee herself at my command! I mean, what’s the harm in a little laughter? Answer: wet undies. As for the wedding, I’m all for marriage to Miss C – I just wanted to avoid her getting her hopes crushed and make sure that we think through the logistics of a late-term pregnancy waltz down the aisle. Really I’m ok with us having this child out of wedlock. We are a modern couple living in a modern country so let’s not try to fight the all-powerful coronavirus and society-crippling lockdown. Let’s wait and let all those others who have cancelled their weddings go first and we’ll wait our turn, at least that’s my thinking.
I am actually pretty disappointed that we are forced into this situation and not able to share in the normal rites of passage involved in pregnancy. I could have been king of the awkward-looking partners sitting in hospital waiting room chairs waiting my turn to get called in to meet the midwife who was already intimate with my half-undressed wife. But no, this was not to be my fate – at least in theory it would make it easier to achieve my preference not to learn the gender. I want to think I would be thrilled with any child, regardless of biological gender and therefore I prefer the old school surprise of being handed an infant with a tiny vagina or tiny penis and finding it out myself! [Miss. Cranky – I wonder if there is such thing as oversharing in blogs]