On Holiday with the Batty Fatty

That's Steve's new nickname for me for the duration. I think he's decided that I'm more batty than he realised, or maybe he's just not seen the extent of the battiness for some time and this past week has just allowed him to see it again...

And of course the fatty bit relates to the obvious protrusion which he swears grows by the day. It probably does. We measured me again last night but according to the tape measure I've not grown for 2 weeks. Steve doesn't trust the tape measure.

We have had the most lovely relaxing holiday in South Wales. The weather wasn't great, we only had sunshine on the Sunday, but to be able to relax and spend time together and talk and laugh and snuggle and just chill out was so much needed.

We walked on the beach and got sand in our toes and dipped our feet in the sea, we went for walks along the promenade at Mumbles, talking about everything and nothing and laughing until we (well mainly I) thought I was going to embarrass myself, we explored Oystermouth Castle, we drove to the Worm's Head and I chickened out from walking a way up to the Head because there was a BBC camera crew filming pieces about the erosion of the coastline (and laughed so much in the process of chickening out that I nearly embarrassed myself again), Steve went on a bike ride and came home three hours later with the bottom half of his bike completely caked in mud, we went out for (second) breakfast and I had hash browns in a cafe/shop called Treasure, we people-watched from the safety (and warmth) of the beach-side cafe, we played boules on the beach and didn't want to come home.

Photos

Our chalet


First day at the beach




The train along the promenade at Mumbles


Oystermouth Castle



Satisfying cravings...


Boules on the beach

Memories :)

Was trying to think of a "pie tune" for Stuart Maconie as he sat in for Chris Evans this week on the R2 drivetime show and I think Steve had reminded me of Joe Satriani the previous day so he was on my mind. Decided to see if I could find an MP3 of "friends" on the internet to see if it sounded like I remember. Can you believe I've not listened to it for over seven years!

I walked up the aisle to this tune. What memories listening to it again brought flooding back, to such an extent that I have had to buy the album it is on, and it has just arrived in the post. I am currently thoroughly enjoying listening to it playing lovely and loud in the cottage. The CD will be on full blast in the car tomorrow as we travel to South Wales for our holiday. What bliss!

Here's the tune. Enjoy.

Singin' and a playin'

I played piano / led worship at small group last night. I think it's the first time I have EVER led by actually playing an instrument rather than selecting some songs off a CD to sing along to. I spent all day (well, apart from sleeping for an hour and a half in the morning when I realised my eyes were actually closing of their own accord) practising and trying to decide which songs to play. I think I might actually be getting better at playing and singing at the same time. I never used to be any good at that, I'm not particularly good at multitasking. Too much information and too little RAM in my brain to hold it all at the same time.

But incredibly I didn't make many mistakes (well, too many) and we have even left the keyboard at our friends' house so she can have a play of it while we're on holiday next week. They are thinking of getting the same keyboard so having a play and getting an idea of how enormous it is will be a good thing.

As we took it round to theirs, we needed to buy a roof-rack for the boy-racer. Roof-racks on boy-racers look silly. But now it's all there - I have keyboard, custom full-flight case, and roof rack - have keyboard, will travel.

Now... off to do housework and get some photos off the cameras and have a bath and then it's off to work for my one afternoon per week of sociability.

When Jez and Janet and Joseph came to visit...

It took Joseph less than 10 minutes to discover we have a park at the bottom of the garden (literally climb over the wall and you're there).


And in that park there was a tree. Good climbing tree. Daddy, climb that tree!


Which daddy did. Daddy, pick one of the fruit! Which daddy did. And then proceeded to have thrown back at him with some force from Joseph!



At Bramber Castle the boys found a rope swing.


Deciding what to do next.


"What to do next" involved walking along the seafront at Worthing, Joseph and Steve fighting with foam swords all the way there and all the way back. And eating fish and chips. And finding a milkshake shop which sold about 50 flavours of milkshake including pina colada flavour, if you wanted. Steve settled for chocolate. Not maltesers, or mars, just regular chocolate. Easily pleased!


A good day.

Turning a corner

This weekend I feel like I've turned a corner - it's the most excited I've felt so far during the whole pregnancy, I spent time with a couple of good friends and their 5-year old son yesterday and now I'm actually really looking forward to having a son... and my friends at church who have a 7-month old boy, she was telling me today that she was really nervous about having a son because all the men in her life so far have had not great relationships with their mothers - but she's had encouragement too and knows that she'll have a great relationship with her son.

I am so looking forward to him arriving now, and I think Stephen and I even agreed on a name for him a few minutes ago :) but we'll probably keep that little snippet under wraps at least for the time being...!

It's good to be finally feeling so much more positive about this. I guess 9 years of expecting one thing and then getting another is just one of those things that shape our characters, and how we learn to respond to things.

Realisation....

Had a realisation once I'd written all that down, that the first step to any kind of healing is to admit what the problem is... although it does help to know what the problem is before you can admit anything!

Steve's just been through a similar kind of thing, he realised that he has spent the last year and a half hiding from a problem (with dyslexia) instead of dealing with it - and after breaking down on Wednesday morning he's now in such a better place because instead of the problem being this monster that he's avoided it's now being dealt with and there's all sorts of people helping and providing all the support that he needs.

And I've spent the last couple of months hiding from the fact that we're having a boy - I declared that I didn't want to tell anyone "because we'll be inundated with cutesy blue junk" but was just avoiding dealing with the problem.

Problem.

What a daft thing to call it...

Anyway.

I DO love bumpy, how could I not :) I won't love him any less because he's a he and not a she, I'm quite attached to him - more than I ever expected I would be. It's just that expecting a girl for 9 years and then finding out you're getting a boy is not something that can easily be dealt with in a couple of months! But at least the healing has started.

I actually went out and bought specifically boy things for him this afternoon, and Steve loves them. Yes they're blue, but they're not unbearably cute :) Stephen has been amazing, he completely understands how I feel and especially since he's just been through his own rough patch this week he knows the whole hiding from issues scenario.

In some ways, thinking about this more rationally, I'm kind of glad our first is a boy... I was looking forward to and expecting a girl, but I'm not such a girly girl and the thought of all things pink and fluffy frightens me to death!!! Maybe I'll have softened and changed by the time we ever have a girl :)

The healing begins.

And I've even started looking at names in a more positive fashion :)

Feeling Blue

I guess really I'm just tired and need a proper break away from everything but I have no idea why I'm feeling so down at the moment.

I have a happy husband with a great job, a great boss and great support from his uni where he's trying to finish off his degree; I have a beautiful healthy baby growing inside, my husband loves me and loves baby-bumpy, everything's perfect.

And still the tears are coming. I feel like my brain is jumping all over the place just so that I don't cry for a bit, bouncing from subject to subject but as soon as it runs out of things to think about I just start crying again.

I think one of the things that has set me off just recently is reading a blog post from a woman who really wanted a girl this time around, she already has two boys and is now expecting a third boy.

Ever since before Steve and I were married I've dreamed of having a baby girl. Steve had a dream one night, that we'd got married and had a baby girl - and it prompted him to propose to me. I've still got that letter he sent me, with the dream in it and the proposal.

So for over 9 years I've dreamt of having a girl...

When we went for the 20wk scan, I asked if they could tell what sex it was - and there was his little willy. I cried the rest of the day, I couldn't believe baby wasn't a girl. It took me a few weeks to re-align my thinking to cope with this development, and I thought I'd laid it to rest - but that b post has made me realise I've not really dealt with it as well as I thought I had, I'd just not thought about it instead of dealing with it.

And then to see his enormous balls on the scan today.

Ain't no doubt the kid's a He.

Yes I'm glad that he's fine and growing perfectly and everything, glad he's healthy, amazingly glad and blessed that we're able to have children at all, but I so wanted a girl... and I feel so selfish thinking that.

I also feel kind of relieved having been able to say it out loud. Steve kind of understands... at least he's being sympathetic and not just telling me to stop being silly.

I think the other thing that contributed this morning was that it felt so much like an anticlimax, all the waiting and waiting for maybe 20 minutes total of actually seeing anybody, to be told everything's fine, please test your blood sugar more often, go home. By that point I'd almost forgotten we'd even seen our baby this morning.

So. Heart poured out. I'm going to do some more distraction therapy this afternoon and put off thinking about it some more. Maybe go buy some plants to replace the ones damaged in the wind this week... maybe go shopping... maybe go for a walk... maybe not go for a walk, far too much thinking time...

Designs on a New Dress.

I bought some fabric today, I am quite excited about this as it means I am one step closer to creating a new dress for myself. I have bought white linen and bright red cotton, and have sketched out how I want the dress to look once finished. I can't take pictures of the fabric or the sketch however because the battery in my camera has just died. Tomorrow I will add pictures.

12th August - edited to add this picture!

Cravings!

I made Steve take me to Ikea on Saturday night.

I decided, as you do, earlier in the day, that a trip there might be a good idea because we could get the bits on the list that had been slowly getting longer and longer. And then I decided that as we were going, and as it takes an hour and a half to get there, that we may as well get all the furniture for the baby... Which would mean me breaking a promise - that I'd not get any baby stuff until after Steve's birthday which is in another 2 weeks' time.

Steve thought we could therefore wait to go to said furniture store.

So I started crying... I didn't mean to, honestly! I was really annoyed with myself because my eyes were leaking, and I couldn't stop them.

And then it got later and later and later...

And my eyes wouldn't stop leaking...

To cut a very long story short, involving more crying, getting in a state because I didn't think I could win either way, etc etc etc, hormonal woman alert... poor Steve... we went to Croyden.

And had meatballs and chips and gravy and lingonberry sauce :)

And bought everything on our list apart from anything to do with babies, so no promises broken! AND didn't spend a fortune, and yesterday I helped Steve build a chest of drawers :) It was supposed to be him helping me but I think he did most of the work in the end... I get to make the second chest today, all by myself :)

I think I can honestly say I have had only two occasions of severe cravings so far in this pregnancy. The first, we had to drive to Littlehampton to satisfy a craving for Burger King. It was just what I wanted although I felt so dirty afterwards for binging on junk food.

The second... was not for food particularly (although I think meatballs may have figured in the dark recesses of my mind) but for a trip to Ikea.

Why can't I have normal cravings, like for sardine smoothies or something like that????

Wonder of wonders.

I think I've started getting that nesting feeling.

I've been thinking about this whole "nesting" malarky quite a bit over the past few weeks, Ste and I had a chuckle the other week when someone at work asked him if I'd started nesting - Steve's response was that he didn't think nesting was really in my vocabulary! We joked that I was more likely to misplace the baby in a pile of washing or leave it at the post office by accident or something.

But actually, over the last week or so, I've been getting itchy to prepare things. I'm not the most organised or tidy of people - I have to be given a bump-start normally. We have "tidy" days where we both attack the house, and over the next few weeks it starts off with me keeping on top of things and then the levels of tidyness start slipping gradually again... but recently I've found myself getting really annoyed with the general level of clutter and binning things, taking old clothes (finally) to the charity shop, buying new sheets for the bedroom, measuring what space we have and where we might fit anything to do with baby in, looking at baby furniture, considering, thinking....

It might be to do with the fact that baby is really making its presence known at the moment so I'm not really given a chance to not think about it. And I have fits and starts of extreme activity (extreme by comparison to the rest of this pregnancy so far) in between the extreme shatteredness (own fault, should learn to pace myself!).

Slowly but surely, the house is being reorganised in order to accommodate a new tiny person. Half the time it's not even a conscious thing: we just decide something would be better placed somewhere else, and realise that the space recently vacated is now useful.

So perhaps, just perhaps, nesting is finding its way into my vocabulary.

Penpals

Thought it was about time for a new blog.

When I was about 14 or 15 (or maybe even younger) I applied to a penpals agency for penfriends. I can't remember who suggested it to me, but the idea appealed as I enjoyed writing and friends overseas were less likely to be annoying and might even be interested in me.

I had two come back to me - a girl from Sweden, Kamilla; and a boy from Italy, Paulo. Paulo straight away asked me about a million questions about where I lived and, me being me, I had no idea of any of the answers. I didn't even know where the town hall was at that point, didn't know that you could actually get postcards of Sale, didn't know the population of Sale, etc etc. Of course I could have gone out and found the answers but I wasn't really interested! I wanted to know about this person, not particularly about where they lived although anything they knew would have been interesting. Needless to say, my apathy culled that potential relationship.

The other penpal, Kamilla, well she was different. She wanted to know about me, and I wanted to know about her. We wrote letters so long they ran to several pages, took months to write said letters, rarely got around to putting anything in them that we said we would (it usually ended up a case of "I'd better post this now before it gets any longer") and got to know each other pretty well, considering she was in Sweden and I was in England.

When I was 16 we plotted that I should go and visit her for a fortnight. Eventually we told our parents of this idea, and they took over the planning for us. I'd never been abroad (except when I was a toddler) and so to have my first experience of travelling on my own to involve 4 airports (2 changes) in 2 foreign countries was a bit worrying for my parents. Anyway I made it, had a grand old time, learnt a tiny bit of Swedish, and came home a slightly more mature person. Possibly.

We kept writing to each other but, as with most things, over time we gradually stopped writing as often - even if, when we did write, the letters were still just as long and filled with the same kind of everyday stuff that we both found interesting - and eventually, we just seemed to stop writing.

Now though, thanks to the wonders of the internet, we got back in touch and last week she came to visit us in our tiny cottage in the English countryside (which looks, apparently, quite similar to Swedish countryside! Fancy that) - 12 or 13 years after we first started writing to each other.

More to come!

"Not yet" becomes "Now!"

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a little girl who thought she would never be a mummy. The years went past and always the answer was the same: Not yet, not yet. Sometime, but not yet. Years passed, the little girl grew up into a young woman and got married, but still the answer was: Not yet, not yet. Sometime, but not yet. But then one day, another seven years later, the young woman discovered she was going to be a mummy!

Nearly every morning I look at myself and still can't quite believe that the season of "not yet" is finally over, and I'm only 4 months away from being a mum - it's almost like one day I'm going to wake up to discover I've been dreaming it all. I don't think any amount of scans and kicks or the ever-growing bump is going to stop that feeling, until I'm finally holding my baby in my arms. It just feels like it's been such a long period of "not yet" that my brain is really having difficulty adjusting to the fact that it's "now!"

I am struggling to think of anything other than baby. Steve must find it irritating at times but he's not said a word about it. I lie awake at night holding the bump, feeling baby prodding its way around... still amazed that it's actually really real. Sometimes when it's comfortable I can actually forget for a moment that I'm pregnant. It doesn't last: all I need do is look down. Or I get a swift kick or baby goes rolling around.

Baby baby baby.

For self, or Selfish?

I've been thinking about this doing something completely for yourself lark, and while nothing in particular comes to mind (it was probably getting my paints out, or spending the morning playing the piano) I much prefer doing things with people. That surprises me more than anything. As much as I appreciate and sometimes crave solitude, I really really appreciate my husband and my friends.

I am blessed to have amazing friends who take me as I am, don't mind if I can't eat the food they've prepared because I'm completely shattered and fall asleep on their sofa all evening, to have friends who happily travel a couple of hundred of miles to see us for a weekend, to have friends who would drop what they were doing to help us out when we were struggling and who we would do exactly the same for.

I don't think compromise is a bad word. I was listening to somebody talking the other day about how relationships these days seem a lot of the time to be about competition, about having to prove yourself to the other person; whereas relationships should be complementary, one person balancing with the other. I have no worries about not doing anything completely for myself, because I know that my husband loves me so much that he has let me be a housewife and a mum-to-be which has always been what I wanted, rather than doing a job that I am very competent at but hate. My husband on the other hand is doing what he loves, and has a wife who loves him and supports him in that. A perfect compromise, but we don't see it that way. It's just life, we both give 100% and, funnily enough, get 100% back in return.

It's not what you do, or how long it takes, or who it's for, or whether it's for your self or somebody else, it's about how you do it - it's about your attitude and whether you do things with a grateful heart or with resentment.

I've just looked up and seen a poster I have on the wall which says "love extravagantly" - that's the way to do it. It's far more than just doing your bit: it's doing your bit with everything you've got, whole-heartedly, grateful that you have anything to give in the first place.

Good times :)

I thought, now yesterday is gone and I can process all the memories slightly more coherently, that I would write about the interesting day I had.

It started with a bath, in a rush, because as usual I was spending far too much time on the blog and on facebook. Then it was off to see the midwife, who I think I should have seen a couple of times already but had forgotten to make any appointments.

So! I found out my blood group (O- if you're interested in that kind of thing) and was informed that as well as having to have a couple of injections during the pregnancy to prevent my body from trying to attack any further babies we may decide to have, I will also be getting pestered to give blood once baby is born. Lucky me, a rare person. I wondered which parent was primarily responsible for that genetic gem.

After that bombshell the midwife said, right, let's have a listen to baby's heartbeat :D I nearly cried when I heard it!

So, baby has been kicking, womb is about the right size for my dates, heartbeat all present and correct at 160 beats per minute, everything AOK.

Got home, told Steve at lunch, then got a phonecall from the Evalina Children's Hospital where we were scheduled to go for a fetal heart scan on the 23rd. But they were having to reschedule all the appointments for that day and two other days.... long and short of it is that we're going on the 12th instead - we get to see baby again much sooner than expected!

Then I spoke to dad on the phone in the evening and he suspects it is his fault for the O-.....

And finally baby started kicking again in the evening once we'd gone to bed, and as Steve was still awake I got him to put his hand on my stomach and he felt baby kick too!!

What a great day :)

How did it get this difficult to eat?

Steve has made me realise something this week. I'd never noticed it, but it seems it's been there for a long time.

I don't eat enough.

Now I thought I ate quite a lot, in fact I've always been kind of proud of my appetite. I used to joke that the "full" switch in my stomach had been ignored so often it didn't work any more. Well, it turns out that my appetite is not as big as I thought - and the "full" switch may well need re-training, as it seems to kick in way too early now.

It's got to the point now that because I don't eat enough, I barely have enough energy to get me through the most bland of days, and when we go out - for example to church (do you realise how much energy singing praise to God uses up?!) or even just a walk to the shops for necessities - it knocks me for six and this week, for one reason or another, it's taken me 5 days to feel right again. But because I don't have enough energy, this makes me feel sick and feeling sick means I drink less (that's another thing, I've never drunk enough water in a day) and if I drink less I feel more sick and then don't eat... thus creating a vicious cycle of not eating and feeling sick.

So what do I do? How do I break out of this cycle? I have no idea. I try, I honestly try to eat more, but every meal there comes a point where my stomach says, "enough: feed me any more and you won't enjoy the outcome." It's hard enough eating in the first place. Pretty often I'll sit down to eat the evening meal with Steve, and have to call time after 5 minutes to go and lie down to get my stomach used to the idea of taking in food. And by the time I've stopped feeling sick my food's gone cold. Sucks really.

The thing is, I really don't know what I can do to get out of this. There's no issue with body image, although I admitted to Steve's mum last night that as I've always been skinny, I am terrified of getting fat - and for some reason at the moment I just seem to associate getting the baby bump as being fat. But I don't think that's an underlying reason. I've been worked on for so long about putting on weight by doctors and dieticians and various other medics that I'm actually really happy about reaching what has been my target weight of 9 stone. I've never been that heavy before, and for ages I was stuck at 8.5 stone - and was terrified of hitting the 9 stone mark. But I've done it, and it's not that bad.

I tell you what though, I wish clothes stores would all size their clothes the same. It was horrible going into Dorothy Perkins on Sunday in search of maternity clothes - I'm usually a 10-12, happily so, as I refuse to think of myself as super skinny. In DP even the size 8 stuff was actually falling off me. All I could think was the nurse and dietician and consultant aren't going to be pleased if I've gone and dropped 2 dress sizes. Came as a sort of relief to discover that DP size everything wrong.

Anyway, back to the eating, when I talked it over with Steve, we discovered there is a kind of pattern to my general eating habits. Even before I was pregnant I didn't eat much at breakfast or lunch, and would eat a bigger amount at dinner. I was quite capable of eating a huge amount in one go, but it would only be once a day normally. When I started going to the gym I started eating more throughout the day, Steve recalls, but now I suppose I associate eating with being sick, just because that's been my experience with the morning sickness for nearly 2 months.

I'm going to talk it over with the team at the hospital on Friday, because I can't go on like this. I need more energy, but I am just finding it so difficult as it is to balance the food/insulin/sugar levels that I hardly dare upset that delicate equilibrium. And then what do I do if I want to start doing some gentle exercise? Blimey that's going to upset the balance even more.

Ah well, enough for now. Got that off my chest, and hopefully I'll get some help on Friday...

Stunned by stupid dress sizes.

I had to bite the bullet yesterday and go out on a hunt for trousers that would actually fit me, as most of mine have started to try and cut me in half every time I bend over.

So I was taken out by a friend into town, and after deciding I really couldn't face mothercare yet, we went into Dorothy Perkins. Now. I am normally a size 10 to 12 or thereabouts, and normally shop in places like H&M or Select or Topshop or other youthful places, and I know what size I am in there. Imagine my horror when the size 12's fell off me, then the size 10's fell off me, and then the size 8's proceeded to fall off me.

All I could think of was "the dietician is going to kill me." They've been trying to fatten me up for years and if I've gone and dropped 2 dress sizes they ain't gonna be happy.

Thankfully my friend who was with me (although she couldn't see what the problem was, other than they didn't do size 6's) explained that DP dress sizes are different to H&M dress sizes...

I'm really hoping now that H&M do a decent line of maternity wear. Did manage to get a couple of pairs of long combat-type shorts that actually stay up, but the linen pants are probably going to need braces!!

I can't believe I'm in maternity wear.

Off to fatten myself up a bit now.

Timely Reminders...

Today I am remembering that God Is. Funny how God has just reminded me of it in the past week or so - and today it is becoming one of those things that I am SO glad to be reminded of. It's strange how just a slight change in our thinking - an almost imperceptible change in perspective - can change so much of how we live our lives.

God Is my strength when I am weak,
God Is my patience when mine has run out.
God Is my love when I feel I can't cope,
God Is my grace when I just want to scream.
Anything that I have none left of, God Is.

Anything that I have none left of, God Is.

No more me saying "God please give me patience..." because God IS my patience. No more me trying to handle things on my own, no more me thinking all I need is a top-up from God, because God Is everything that I have none left of.

I really hope I remember this longer this time around than I did last time.

God's Training School

It's funny how certain things make you cast your mind back to other things you thought you'd learnt a long time ago. It's taken many months for me to realise, but it has dawned on me again that I'm in the same kind of place that I was in when we were out in Finland. I have so much opportunity to spend time with God, and yet... well, do I? I've just read a post I wrote in July 2006, about God's faithfulness:

When we left to go to Finland last July, I was so tired - I really needed some peace and quiet, some place to reflect and to meditate and to live peacefully for a time. I believe that it's completely in line with God's ways of teaching us and leading us, that for a time we need the incredible atmosphere that I associate with Kings, and to be able to completely let go of ourselves and lose ourselves in worship and adoration of God; but sometimes God knows that we need quietness in our lives, to be able to reflect more and learn on a one-on-one basis of who He is. And I feel extremely priviledged to have been selected for that one-on-one teaching and leading. I feel like I have grown more as a daughter in God this past year than I have any other single year that I can remember. And now I'm here in Manchester, and ready for Year 2 of being in God's Training School!!

It feels strange looking back at that, and wondering what has happened between then and now. I mean, lots of stuff has happened, but it requires so much patience to glimpse the blessings in amongst the fog of memories. And it's not for lack of blessings, it's just that I'm not practised in remembering them.

Anyway this is one of the other old posts I was looking for. I remember this time really well.

On Tuesday I walked home from the shops, looking at the clouds and thinking how cool they looked. As I walked past a bench, God said "sit down with me." So I thought well if it's dry then I will (it had rained earlier). It was dry, and I sat down gratefully because I was really tired, and sat there in a bit of a daze watching the sun and the clouds and the wind on the lake. God said, "just wait..." so I did. And then, it started to hail, really lightly. I put my umbrella up and sat through a light hailstorm, watching the hail bounce on the lake and off my umbrella and generally be really really pretty...

This was one of the high points of my walk with God that summer. Being quiet enough in my spirit to hear His voice, and talking life at a gentle pace in order that when He calls you have time to listen.

I'll tell you what though, the other thing in that particular post I had completely forgotten about. I'm pretty glad I chose to blog a lot that year, there's a lot of thoughts I would otherwise have forgotten! I'm thinking that blogging (for me anyway) is a much more positive way of keeping a diary - only things that you don't mind sharing with the world get written, and if you don't mind sharing them with the world there will (or ought to be) a lot more positivity in them when you come to reading the posts a year or two later, as you search for the nuggets you're sure you wrote.

There. That's far more musings than I was expecting for today. I wonder if I made it through Year Two of the Training School, and if I graduated to Year Three?

Feeling pretty :o)

What a glorious weekend. Glorious in more ways than just the weather! The sickness has passed (praise God, thankyou to all who've prayed, who've encouraged me telling me it will pass - it has!) and I have started to feel more human again. The sun has been shining all week but this weekend the sun has been really warm and the wind has died down.

We had an amazing day on Saturday with Ben and Christine: cooked breakfast, a wander around the farmers' market, quick sortie to the butchers and greengrocers for bits for the barbecue, lunch at the tea rooms (I had a salad - I've not been able to enjoy a salad for weeks so that was a pretty momentous occasion for me!) and a barbecue in the evening. That tuna steak I have been looking forward to for weeks was as good as I hoped. Even managed to make stuffed tomatoes! Haven't had them since barbecues as a child, so I was pleased that the stuffing worked. Ben & Chris left early evening to go off to Portsmouth to see Ben's sister, and Steve and I finished off a beautifully relaxed day.

Sunday was church and we actually got there nearly on time! We'd been invited to one of the elders' houses for lunch so my bag was stuffed with all my diabetes stuff, an emergency cheese sandwich for the short space of time in between church finishing and lunch starting, and all the usual bits and pieces as well. I need a bigger bag. We had a really good time with Rodney and Sue, and Steve and I kept saying afterwards that we didn't think either of us had ever had a better chicken dinner!! That was AMAZINGLY beautiful chicken. We had a good laugh with Rodney and Sue, talking about all sorts of things, relaxed and chilled and happy.

I'd had a headache developing all day sadly and by the time we got home I thought I'll just have a quick nap to see if this headache will go away - my stomach had been churning a bit in accompaniment, but I'm so grateful that God kept it at bay long enough for me to really enjoy the lunch and afternoon. It developed into a full blown migraine, the first I've ever had and hopefully the last I'll ever have. So that meant no tea for me - not that it wasn't for trying. Was upset because it meant we'd missed the last prayer meeting of the week of prayer, and I'd been really hoping to go to it. But, these things happen and I was consigned to bed, wishing that my stomach and head could just go and disconnect themselves from the rest of me.

Monday morning was a trial as a result. I was so hungry I couldn't face food. I couldn't even face the usual biscuits - I'd seriously had enough of them at that point. Eventually I agreed to try some dry weetos, and managed to nibble my way through a cupful of them. Halfway through I decided that a grape or two might be nice, as we had some left over from Saturday. Finally I felt normally hungry again and was able to eat some normal breakfast, but by then it was nearly midday... Thankfully I felt much much better by then and once we'd had a bacon sandwich (which Steve had to go out to buy bacon for!) we started the day properly. Given the difficulty of the morning, we had an amazing day together yesterday! Steve mowed the lawn, and then when it came to putting the washing line back out we discovered it was broken - incredibly we still had the receipt for it so off we toddled to the garden centre and replaced it. And while we were there bought an A-frame garden table/bench thing and various covers for the barbecue and table. And I helped build the table!! Honestly, I really did help! No lifting or anything like that, but I did help and once it was done Steve enjoyed a beer and a cigar while I had a delicious bath to avoid the stink of cigars. And then dinner... mmm. Sweet chilli and roast vegetable sausages from the butchers, with pasta and pesto. Delicious.

For the first time in weeks I have woken up today feeling pretty again :) it's a good feeling! Steve has been complaining that he buys me all these pretty bra's and all I wear is the cheap (and frankly quite comfortable) one that I've had for years... I told him once I start feeling pretty / sexy again I will wear the pretty and sexy bra's he's bought! Hope he notices :) Celebrating by wearing my favourite of the bra's he's bought, and a pretty top and pretty shoes with my jeans. Happy girly today!

I was finally given a folder of music for church on Sunday, so I've got a load of new songs to learn to play hurrah!

Right, off to have more breakfast and to get on with the day. Let's see what time it is today when the switch is flicked and all systems suddenly shut down for the day... :o)

A little letter to the jumping bean :o)

Week: 13+3

Well little jumping bean, we finally saw you last Friday! I still can't get over how amazing it was to see you jumping away waving your arms about - you wouldn't stay still long enough for the sonographer to get your picture, and in the end she had to just take chances to see how they came out!

It's been so amazing being able to tell people at last. People at church are really excited, and I'm being threatened with a celebratory trip to Matalan!! Your great-auntie has decided that she is going to come down in person and check me and you over some time in the summer, kind of useful having a retired midwifery lecturer in the family!

Everyone is really excited for you, and looking forward to you coming into the world. I'm really looking forward to seeing you properly and giving you a hug :) Ah now I'm crying... makes such a change to be crying happy tears :)

I felt your protective bubble yesterday for the first time, that was awesome. I know where you are now and I can start watching to see when you get bigger - you've already pushed my stomach out of the way so I'm having to eat smaller portions, but golly you don't half make me hungry!

God bless little jumping bean, take care in there.

xxxxmummy