<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776</id><updated>2011-04-22T12:21:12.393+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time...</title><subtitle type='html'>The story starts at the beginning: we have decided we want a baby... this is where you join my journey.  
Wish me luck for a 'happliy ever after' ending!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2640136281105498930</id><published>2007-12-29T13:53:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T13:54:29.674+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Labour</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thursday 13th December&lt;br /&gt;6 pm to 7pm&lt;br /&gt;So, I think it has all started.  Last night as I was cooking dinner I had one particularly bad contraction.  I had been having stronger ones all day, but still didn’t want to get my hopes up.  Arcris was just outside the kitchen on the phone (we received several bogus tax invoices for advertising and he was following them up) and I was making chicken and asparagus risotto – note: don’t make risotto while in labour as it takes a lot of standing up (back ache) and constant stirring (difficult while having a contraction).&lt;br /&gt;I just leant over the kitchen bench and tried my best not to panic.  Arcris was on the phone for ages and my risotto was getting gluggy, flies kept coming in from outside and I was in pain.  I believe it was me screaming “Get out of here!” at a fly which landed on our dinner which brought it to Arcris’ attention that I wasn’t coping.  I then kept yelling and chasing the fly to get it out until I began to get hysterical.  I calmed down a bit and we managed to eat dinner – although the risotto was a bit gluggy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went to the bathroom and noticed some blood – yay! – bloody show.  Never was I so happy to be bleeding from down there.  For the next hour or so I kept returning to the bathroom so I could check for more.  I didn’t have too much blood, it was a bit red and mixed with mucous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7pm to 9.30pm&lt;br /&gt;After calling the hospital to let them know about the blood, I kept timing the contractions and checking on the baby’s movements.  I was a bit confused to see that the contractions were 5 minutes apart and lasted about 45 seconds; however, they were not very painful.  I know 5 minutes apart is when the hospital said to come in, but I wasn’t in too much pain and still felt I could be ‘crying wolf’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called them back and spoke to mum, everyone thought it best to stay at home and wait and see.  At 9.30, I decided to get some rest.  I thought I might be in for a long night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.30pm to 6.00am&lt;br /&gt;Through the night I slept well enough, but would have 5 minute contractions when I woke.  Arcris finally came to bed at about 2am, he hadn’t wanted to before in case he was needed to drive me to hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday 14th December&lt;br /&gt;6.00am to 8.00am&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up at 6am, I was starving but remembered we didn’t have any bread and not much milk.  I wasn’t having many contractions and was disappointed… so I made pancakes!  I figured moving around and being upright suited labour more than lying down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then, my challenge was to stay upright and active until labour really takes hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was having stronger contractions at this point but at 10 minutes apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2640136281105498930?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2640136281105498930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2640136281105498930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2640136281105498930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2640136281105498930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/12/early-labour.html' title='Early Labour'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5945149292852363149</id><published>2007-12-25T20:12:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T20:14:48.313+11:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a boy!</title><content type='html'>At 5.56am on Saturday the 15th December 2007, we welcomed baby boy Xavier into the world.  14 hour labour, natural birth... (will fill in details when I have the chance)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no drugs at all!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a gorgeous boy (aren't they always the apple of our eyes) and we're smitten already.  After a brief stint in special care, he's doing very well at home with mum and dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5945149292852363149?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5945149292852363149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5945149292852363149' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5945149292852363149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5945149292852363149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-boy.html' title='It&apos;s a boy!'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-249124215798683229</id><published>2007-12-10T13:55:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T14:06:15.991+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Bump not yet a baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OK, today is the day... I am 40 weeks pregnant... did you hear that baby?  Time is up, out you come now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sure I know that 40 weeks is an approximate measure, but surely bubs will arrive on time, no?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have risked a visit into the library to check email and check &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; blogs, maybe that will tempt fate and bubs will decide that breaking waters on library floor would be hilarious!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have spent the last 4 weeks of maternity leave gearing down, it has been great and I am so happy to have had this time.  I thought I was ready soon after leaving work, but it has been great to just have down time before I know life will be turned on its head.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The only downside is the waiting (and of course the endless phone calls and messages inquiring if I have popped yet!).  Each night I ensure the house is 'visitor' clean before going to bed; I go to bed at a decent hour each night just in case it happens through the night and I want to be properly rested; each day I wait, and wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mondays I change the bed sheet (each time thinking &lt;em&gt;'These will probably be the sheets my waters will break on to'&lt;/em&gt;); Tuesdays I do a load of washing (&lt;em&gt;'Hope the weather holds while I am in hospital'&lt;/em&gt;); Wednesdays I fold the wash (&lt;em&gt;'Thank goodness I got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt; in before all the visitors arrive to see the baby'&lt;/em&gt;); Thursdays I scrub the bathroom (&lt;em&gt;'Phew, thank goodness the post-baby visitors won't have to see that mess'&lt;/em&gt;); Fridays I vacuum (&lt;em&gt;'That will be lovely for the the visitors who visit the baby'&lt;/em&gt;); Saturdays we grocery shop (&lt;em&gt;'Better stock up before bubs arrives, but not too much perishable in case it goes off while we are hospital'&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;However, the baby hasn't come yet, the visitors aren't coming until bubs is here, and my house just keeps getting cleaner!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-249124215798683229?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/249124215798683229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=249124215798683229' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/249124215798683229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/249124215798683229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/12/bump-not-yet-baby.html' title='Bump not yet a baby'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-8067516084203973917</id><published>2007-11-15T16:40:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T16:49:18.866+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Still waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I know I am still early, but I hear so many times a day that 'it could be any day now' that even though I &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; it is unlikely for a first born to come early, I think I have started &lt;em&gt;thinking&lt;/em&gt; it could be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;any day&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I had my 36 week appointment today, with an OB.  What a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt;.  I have had all my other appointments (except 20 weeks) with a midwife.  The midwifes are lovely, they love their job, they love our babies, they love our belly and care about our feelings. A midwife &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;appointment&lt;/span&gt; takes longer than half an hour, and they are always running behind because they spend so much time with each patient. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't say the same thing about the OB.  Apparently 'baby is down, but not fully engaged yet', 'baby has heartbeat', 'blood pressure is fine', and 'you need to take iron supplements' are the only thing needing to be conveyed during an appointment, and this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;exchange&lt;/span&gt; need take no longer than 10 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, well 38 week one is back to midwifes, I will let them know home much I appreciate them next time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In other news, I can't believe they are going to let me take a baby home to take care of.  Last night hubby and I light a couple of candles (not for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;romancin&lt;/span&gt;' but to get rid of smell of the prawn dinner we had eaten earlier) and then we to bed.  Hubby bounded out of bed this morning at 7 a.m. after remembering about them.  They have burned themselves down during the night and all was fine.  But my confidence is shattered.  How can I take care of another human being when I could have burnt house down last night?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-8067516084203973917?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8067516084203973917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=8067516084203973917' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8067516084203973917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8067516084203973917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/11/still-waiting.html' title='Still waiting'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-8303766897091879127</id><published>2007-11-09T15:47:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T15:50:48.188+11:00</updated><title type='text'>So long (for now)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Today is my last day at work before maternity leave.  I am excited and anxious about the unknown world that is the 'stay at home Mum'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As archaic as this sounds we currently have no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; at home, so I will only be able to check in on everyone and update my own blog when I visit my in-laws.  Depending on when Pudding decides to come and how often I visit the in-laws, my next post could well be the birth... only time will tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will miss reading &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; blogs for a whole and hope all goes well for everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-8303766897091879127?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8303766897091879127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=8303766897091879127' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8303766897091879127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8303766897091879127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/11/so-long-for-now.html' title='So long (for now)'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-4049450531709333769</id><published>2007-11-08T11:12:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T11:20:40.636+11:00</updated><title type='text'>What not to say to an 8-month pregnant woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pregnant Woman:&lt;/strong&gt; Darling, if you could, would you choose to have our next child yourself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Husband of Pregnant Woman:&lt;/strong&gt; No, I couldn't bear the labour and delivery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PW:&lt;/strong&gt; OK, excluding that, would you choose to experience the pregnacy itself?  To grow in places you would rather not grow, feel the nausea and any other pregnancy complaints?  But also experience the feeling of closeness with your child and feel it move inside you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HoPW:&lt;/strong&gt; Yeah I would, I mean, the pregnancy compalints, they are all a matter of perspective.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PW:&lt;/strong&gt; You mean you think it is easier than women let on, that you could do it easly withour complaint?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HoPW&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;em&gt;ignoring dangerous look in PW eyes&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;strong&gt;: &lt;/strong&gt;Yeah, as I said pain is a matter of perspective...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cue teary, hormonal pregnant woman and extremely apologetic husband for the rest of the day.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-4049450531709333769?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4049450531709333769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=4049450531709333769' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4049450531709333769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4049450531709333769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-not-to-say-to-8-month-pregnant.html' title='What not to say to an 8-month pregnant woman'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2482683043258022855</id><published>2007-11-02T14:02:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T14:05:54.580+11:00</updated><title type='text'>The kitchen is open!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some exciting news - I have started to notice the smallest amount of wet spots on my bra when I take it off!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yay&lt;/span&gt;, these things are not just for show, they seem to be real, live, functioning body parts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ready when you are little one - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mumma's&lt;/span&gt; kitchen is open!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2482683043258022855?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2482683043258022855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2482683043258022855' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2482683043258022855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2482683043258022855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/11/kitchen-is-open.html' title='The kitchen is open!'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-340175896610384648</id><published>2007-10-31T11:51:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T11:53:06.004+11:00</updated><title type='text'>My Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is my birthday today.  I have been thinking about my Mum all day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was going to sleep I thought ‘She already knew I was coming 27 years from now, I wonder how she was feeling’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I woke up for the bathroom in the middle of the night I thought ‘She was still going through labour this time 27 years ago’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when I finally woke up at 5.30 in the morning I thought ‘She was getting her first look at her first child this time 27 years ago’ (I was born at 5.20 a.m. on 31 October 1980).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she called today to wish me a happy birthday I nearly cried telling her how I had been thinking about her.  She said ‘Now do you understand why it is so important to a mother to see her children on their birthday?’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first year that I have realised that my birthday is so important to someone other than myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting with my husband eating breakfast this morning we were playing the ‘this time last year’ game (e.g. ‘This time last year we were still planning the wedding’, ‘This day 3 years ago you asked me to marry you and we had just bought our apartment’, etc). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This of course turned into the ‘this time next year’ game.  I wanted to cry (noticing a theme here? Crying has become very common to me!).  This time next year my baby will be crawling around the house; this time next year I will not feel my baby kicking inside me as I eat breakfast; this time next year I will not be with my baby for the entire day; this time next year other people will be able to hold my baby rather than just me; this time next year my baby will (sometimes) find more joy in a pile of toys than it does in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I know it was way over the top, however, it made me realise, that as uncomfortable as I am at the moment, I don’t think I am ready for the pregnancy to be over.  Of course I look forward to holding the baby in my arms, but I am almost dreading waking up and not having the baby completely attached to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-340175896610384648?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/340175896610384648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=340175896610384648' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/340175896610384648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/340175896610384648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-birthday.html' title='My Birthday'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2017095790198259701</id><published>2007-10-26T08:32:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T08:37:43.653+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ok, have decided to come clean... I am cheating on this blog with another.  I guess the thing is that it doesn't matter if this blog finds out about the other, but the other one (which I send to family) should never, ever find out about this one.  I would like to keep this one as a place to vent and would rather no 'real life' friends and family find out about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On the other blog I post photos of my growing belly and a (very dorky) weekly update about how Pudding should be growing, I don't write personal stuff on that one and only really update it when I get the chance to download pictures.  You are all welcome to come and view the other blog if you want to see belly shots, and then bookmark it if you wish to see baby and family photos once Pudding has arrived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Please be aware that I don't want friends and family finding out about this blog, so if you wish to comment on the other blog, please don't mention this one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OK, so here it is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://babygalang.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://babygalang.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2017095790198259701?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2017095790198259701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2017095790198259701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2017095790198259701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2017095790198259701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/photos.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7440251889622626164</id><published>2007-10-24T09:47:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T09:58:59.470+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong way out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think my baby thinks that it can somehow find a way out of my belly through the belly button area.  It has been constantly trying to kick/punch a hole through there for the last week.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Baby is head down which is good because I doubt there is much room for it to turn around, and has its back on my left side facing my front which I hear is a great position for the birth.  I get most of my kicks and ounches on the right side and occasionally a shoulder or elbow on the left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On the advice of my midwife (backed up with google research) I have started taking Raspberry Leaf Tea.  It has a stimulating effect on the uterus and I have definently noticed BH since then (was too sure I was even having any before have the Raspberry Leaf Tea).   Here's hoping it reduces my labour time and the need for intervention!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The advice I found on google was this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In a study carried out in Sydney, Australia, 192 first-time mums were given at random either a 1.2g raspberry leaf tablet or a placebo twice a day from 32 weeks of pregnancy. The herb had no harmful effects on mother or baby, and those women who had taken raspberry leaf tablets were found to have a shorter second stage of labour and a lower rate of forceps delivery (19.3% versus 30.4%). It is believed that raspberry leaf, if taken regularly through pregnancy and labour can:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;·       Ease the symptoms of morning sickness.&lt;br /&gt;·       Sooth and prevent bleeding gums which many pregnant women often experience.&lt;br /&gt;·       Relax the smooth muscles of the uterus when it is contracting (Burn &amp;amp; Withell, 1941).&lt;br /&gt;·       Assist with the birth of the baby and the placenta.&lt;br /&gt;·       Calm cramping of the uterus.&lt;br /&gt;·       Provide a rich source of iron, calcium, manganese and magnesium. The magnesium content is especially helpful in strengthening the uterine muscles. Raspberry leaf also contains vitamins B1, B3 and E which are valuable in pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raspberry leaf is also used for the following:&lt;br /&gt;·       To aid fertility.&lt;br /&gt;·       To promote a plentiful supply of breastmilk.&lt;br /&gt;·       To help stop excess bleeding after birth.&lt;br /&gt;·       To treat diarrhoea.&lt;br /&gt;·       To regulate irregular menstrual cycle and decreases heavy periods.&lt;br /&gt;·       To relieve sore throats.&lt;br /&gt;·       To reduce fever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7440251889622626164?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7440251889622626164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7440251889622626164' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7440251889622626164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7440251889622626164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/wrong-way-out.html' title='Wrong way out'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3125607631908059263</id><published>2007-10-15T17:12:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T17:14:13.945+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Jewellery</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I do beleive that my wedding rings and my watch have indeed grown smaller throughout the course of this pregnancy. If they shrink any more I shall have to wear my rings around my necklace...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3125607631908059263?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3125607631908059263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3125607631908059263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3125607631908059263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3125607631908059263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/jewlery.html' title='Jewellery'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7715881097885593955</id><published>2007-10-15T16:55:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T17:07:34.274+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Possum update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I think an Australian of the year award is in order - for my humanitarian work (towards possums - not humans).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On Friday I finally got brave and... wait for it... you will be amazed by my bravery... I quickly opened the front door, ran to the side of the balcony and put a broom over the side so that the little one could climb up it and escape (what it was escaping to I have no idea - city traffic perhaps?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course as soon as it escaped (it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;took&lt;/span&gt; it about 15 minutes to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;figure&lt;/span&gt; out what to do) I was hit with the realisation that rats could sneak through small holes - maybe possums could too. So I boarded up my front door just in case. Yes I boarded up my door to escape from a 10 cm possum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So guys, start the nominations coming for Australian of the year! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;BTW, I have my first birthing class tonight - looking forward to eating out with my husband (we haven't really been out to dinner alone since I fell pregnant) and then meeting other pregnant women in the same stages as me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#663333;"&gt;32 weeks 2 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7715881097885593955?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7715881097885593955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7715881097885593955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7715881097885593955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7715881097885593955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/possum-update.html' title='Possum update'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7090929095848617244</id><published>2007-10-12T15:15:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T15:25:27.651+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrified</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Am currently sitting at my kitchen table (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ahh&lt;/span&gt; work from home!) too terrified to go outside because of an animal lurking out the front of my ground floor apartment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, maybe I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;exaggerate&lt;/span&gt;, but I seriously can't tear myself away from the window and am too scared to go outside.  There is a little baby possum which seems to have decided my ground floor balcony is its new home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That's right... a possum!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I live in the city - what is a possum doing lurking around my house?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Those of you from overseas may not quite understand my terror, a possum, though admittedly quite cute, is just really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; a big rat.  Seriously, an Australian native RAT!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A rat that it is illegal to kill/hurt/relocate even when it is in your house!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The cute/scary little thing keeps climbing up my window frame, presumably in an attempt to get out of the balcony as the other sides are brick... I don't know what I can do about it, I know it is scratching the crap out of the frames but I am not allowed to (read: too scared to) do anything about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh man, the things that happen when you stay at home to work (this so would not have happened in my high rise building I work in!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7090929095848617244?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7090929095848617244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7090929095848617244' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7090929095848617244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7090929095848617244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/terrified.html' title='Terrified'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-1589499181228006760</id><published>2007-10-11T13:46:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T13:51:28.466+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinny - minnie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My belly has become skinny again... well sort of.  For ages the baby was lying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;horizontally&lt;/span&gt; and it was causing a few problems sleeping (it really didn't like me sleeping on either side).  But recently it has turned so it is vertical, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ahhh&lt;/span&gt;.  My belly looks much more out front and less wide!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't tell if the baby is head up or head down though... will have to wait until next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Thursday's&lt;/span&gt; midwife appointment so that she can tell me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-1589499181228006760?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1589499181228006760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=1589499181228006760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1589499181228006760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1589499181228006760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/skinny-minnie.html' title='Skinny - minnie'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-135413632945031442</id><published>2007-10-08T13:44:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T13:45:46.261+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Shower and christening - ROAR!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My baby shower on Saturday was lovely.  My Mum and sisters had gone to such trouble, decorating the house in blue and pink ribbons and balloons, and Mum had made a table centre piece from baby nappies (diapers) and pink and blue nappy pins and dummies (pacifiers).  My sisters had organised games and prizes, all baby themed of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just the girls there but then my husband came back after a couple of hours and we opened the presents together.  We got lots of lovely presents from friends and family, and I spent yesterday evening playing with all the toys and folding and re-folding the new clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went to a musical with my Mum, Grandma and MIL.  Thinking back there was a funny moment when my husband called me over to the conversation because he overheard my MIL telling my Mum and Grandma to book my Grandma’s church and hall for MY baby’s Christening because she wasn’t able to book her church for Christenings!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to do my best not to go into full Lioness, territorial, mode and ROAR that it was our family now and we will be choosing the church – and the RELIGION, no less (my husband and I are different religions – both Christian, but he is Catholic and I am Church of England)!  I had to bite my tongue because I know that she was only doing because she cares, but I really do draw the line at someone other than us choosing our baby’s religion.  It is really funny to start feeling all these territorial feelings about our new little 3 person family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, am getting really, really fat now!  Just saw some pictures of myself at the baby shower and I almost don’t recognise myself!  I feel ‘normal’ until I see photos and then I get a shock!  LOL, oh well, only 9 more weeks of growing and then I hope to start shirking back to my former self!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;31 weeks!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-135413632945031442?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/135413632945031442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=135413632945031442' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/135413632945031442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/135413632945031442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/shower-and-christening-roar.html' title='Shower and christening - ROAR!'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2187423193847323058</id><published>2007-10-03T11:45:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T11:46:40.337+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Lioness and her cub</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was reading recently about how a woman suddenly somehow reverts to her animal instinct to protect her young and her ‘new family’ when she has her first child.  The woman is supposed to get very territorial over her new family, however, at the same time, the ‘old’ lionesses also get protective over the extended family and it can end up in an all in lioness battle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I know the feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never really had a problem with MIL or my Mum overtaking and pushing opinions, even during the wedding planning everyone was very careful not to step on anyone else’s toes.  I even lived with MIL for a few years while hubby and I saved for our place.  Suddenly, throw a baby cub into the equation and everyone gets all competitive and possessive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between MIL, Mum and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Grandma&lt;/span&gt; seemingly competing in a ‘who can buy more presents for the baby’ and ‘who can guess the gender of the baby’ (and buy the most clothes in PINK and BLUE for the baby – as if somehow the gender of the baby will change depending on how many outfits await it!) and the endless stories of how they brought up their children (hint, hint, this is the best way to do it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t it?!) I am starting to get very protective of my new little 3 person family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, along with hubby, would like to be the one to decide how my baby is raised and would like everyone else to back off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sounds so nasty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying my best not to show anyone how stressed they are making me (just moaning about it to my husband in the car on the way home!) because I know that ultimately they have all of our best interests at heart, and I really do appreciate all the gifts (maybe hold the pink and blue until the baby is here though!).  I just keep dreading how they will behave when the baby is here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nightmares about them tearing the baby limb from limb in a bid to be the first to hold it; and am already anticipating getting stressed when they all pile over for visits all weekend when I just want to make sure that the 3 of us get ‘family time’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should stop thinking about it – probably just the pregnancy hormones stressing me out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2187423193847323058?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2187423193847323058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2187423193847323058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2187423193847323058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2187423193847323058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/10/lioness-and-her-cub.html' title='Lioness and her cub'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-9002958149578233463</id><published>2007-09-28T09:03:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T09:11:25.141+10:00</updated><title type='text'>S e x</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A good point was brought up by Nina on a blog I read ('Ben and Stella'), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt;*x...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I do wonder sometimes how many pregnant women are getting any, how many are wanting any and how many are just generally thinking about it at all.  It may seem strange to care about other people private lives in that way, but I just want to know how normal Mr G and I really are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; my drive has changed at all since getting pregnant.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, the first trimester was a major downturn, but since then I think I would like it as often as usual.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;However, whilst it does sometimes upset me ('&lt;em&gt;Am I &lt;strong&gt;such&lt;/strong&gt; a turn off these days?') &lt;/em&gt;the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; of his little darling baby experiencing every moment of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt;*x does manage to turn my husband off to such a degree that I don't know the last time we were intimate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The thing that does worry me is &lt;em&gt;when is the next time we will have time and energy for it &lt;strong&gt;after&lt;/strong&gt; the baby is here anyway?!&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Am I doomed to be forever officially 'not getting any'?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;29 weeks 4 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-9002958149578233463?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/9002958149578233463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=9002958149578233463' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/9002958149578233463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/9002958149578233463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/09/s-e-x.html' title='S e x'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6416033149499001292</id><published>2007-09-14T13:01:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T13:10:57.491+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Invitation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come one and all to the disease playground hosted by yours &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah, work college with the &lt;strong&gt;throat infection&lt;/strong&gt; of course you are welcome.  No don't bother staying home from work just because you are sick, by all means, cough and splutter around here as much as you like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh, and Master &lt;strong&gt;runny nose&lt;/strong&gt; I see you have brought your friend &lt;strong&gt;stuffy head&lt;/strong&gt;. You must have heard that throat infection was passing by and thought you would join us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why sir, what a surprise, I have heard many dangerous rumours about you.  Mister &lt;strong&gt;fever&lt;/strong&gt; please let me introduce you to some other guests, sit over here by my 2 paracetamol friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And who do we have here? Well really, at long last, I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;beginning&lt;/span&gt; to think you would not join me.  You have surely visited every other pregnant woman I know except for me.  Come right this way Mr &lt;strong&gt;heartburn &lt;/strong&gt;you have been expected for some time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now that you are all gathered here, let me just say it has been a delightful week at home on sick leave.  But if you don't mind, kindly f$%k off and leave me and my precious baby alone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6416033149499001292?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6416033149499001292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6416033149499001292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6416033149499001292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6416033149499001292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/09/invitation.html' title='Invitation'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2995716433895537707</id><published>2007-09-07T14:53:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T15:39:12.540+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Whose body is this anyway?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am falling apart...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My ankles are swollen by the time I get home in the evening (something only sitting for an hour with my legs elevated seems to solve), but worse are these odd red patches that have recently made an appearance of each of my ankles. It is so bizarre, in the evening they are bright red patches of squiggly lines about 5cm round which are not itchy but are prickly and warm to touch. They then get less red by the morning and slowly flare up during the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can't for the life of me think of anything I have been doing differently (other than gaining pregnancy weight and swelling as a result!). &lt;em&gt;Does anyone know what they are???!!!&lt;/em&gt; My friend Google doesn't seem to help me on this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Other signs that my body is falling apart:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I also noticed red spots on my stretch marks (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;embarrassingly&lt;/span&gt; stretch marks are on thighs rather than belly as one would assume) which I have read are common during pregnancy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wake at night in a hot sweat at about 3 a.m. and have to dry the sweat from between my new found crevices between layers of flesh (mostly between and under my HUGE boobs!). It is a new experience to me as Melbourne is really mild weather all year round and I have never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; a problem like this even in Summer, I have taken advice from people living in more tropical environments and apply talc which does help somewhat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My wrists have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;become&lt;/span&gt; fat. No one agrees with me, but I can notice the difference. I hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;However, there have been some benefits to my body caused by pregnancy changes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love my cleavage. Not so fond of my boobs when bra is off (veins and huge nipples), but they look great in clothes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have gone from using countless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;expensive&lt;/span&gt; face care products to... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sorbolene&lt;/span&gt;! During my first trimester when I felt like crap it was all I could do to wash my face with soap and then use &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sorbolene&lt;/span&gt; whenever it felt 'squeaky'. My skin has become used to it and now looks great and blemish free with little care needed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On the whole, I think my body is worse off than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-pregnancy, however, I am sure the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;little life&lt;/span&gt; inside me is better off for all the changes to little old me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2995716433895537707?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2995716433895537707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2995716433895537707' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2995716433895537707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2995716433895537707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/09/whose-body-is-this-anyway.html' title='Whose body is this anyway?'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3943530829962489345</id><published>2007-09-03T12:56:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T12:59:09.960+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Another friend for Pudding</title><content type='html'>On Saturday night I had dinner with my 5 best friends.  The girl whose wedding I was going to in March the day I found out I was pregnant announced that she is pregnant too.  She is only 5 weeks, so I know it is really early, but I am so excited for her and so excited for my baby that it will have a little friend to grow up with!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3943530829962489345?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3943530829962489345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3943530829962489345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3943530829962489345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3943530829962489345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/09/another-friend-for-pudding.html' title='Another friend for Pudding'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-371384201231767454</id><published>2007-09-03T12:42:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T12:56:18.377+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Double figures</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well I passed the 100 day milestone over the weekend (I know it is not really a 'milestone', but somehow in my head it means something).  Depending on what you read I am either in my third trimester or a couple of weeks off it.  I am noticing the pregnancy a lot more now.  It really impacts my daily life, well.. daily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have a little trouble walking fast, I used to get so frustrated by 'slow' walkers, not I waddle behind with the 'oldies'!  I am also rather uncomfortable sitting for too long or lying down for too long, but tire easily walking or standing, so I am constantly changing what I am doing to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; find comfort.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know if 26 weeks is too early to start nesting, but I had last Friday off work and about 3p.m. I realised that I was on my hands and knees scrubbing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skirting&lt;/span&gt; boards.  I had also done 2 loads of washing, hand washing, scrubbed the kitchen and made the house generally sparkle.  It might be nesting, or maybe I just realised that house chores needed to be done and we had a busy weekend on so Friday was my only chance to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am also overly emotional.  After cleaning on Friday I sat down to read and had to stop because I kept bursting into tears.  Admittedly it was a very sad part in the book, but I was sobbing, not just having a quiet tear in my eye.  Also I get very emotional (translate to: cry) whenever I read baby or pregnancy books.  Just the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; of how tough or beautiful having a baby in the house will be makes me cry.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also I went to church yesterday with my husband's family and nearly cried about 5 times during mass (and it isn't even my religion!!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I had my 26 week check up on the weekend and it all went well except, despite drinking my lovely green sugar drink, I didn't get my diabetes test because the midwifes couldn't find any veins and pathology was closed on the weekend.  So I have to drink heaps of water and go back tomorrow.  It was kind of good because late Friday night I decided I was sick of being 'good' and considering the baby before I put anything near my mouth and asked my husband to make a double chocolate pudding.  It was lovely but may well have upset the blood test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;26 weeks&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-371384201231767454?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/371384201231767454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=371384201231767454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/371384201231767454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/371384201231767454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/09/double-figures.html' title='Double figures'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-4425308858235620503</id><published>2007-08-30T14:32:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T14:34:21.860+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Biting my finger nails...</title><content type='html'>I am nervous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I have my first diabetes test in 2 days time.  I am scared, I don't want to be told to stop eating cakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-4425308858235620503?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4425308858235620503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=4425308858235620503' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4425308858235620503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4425308858235620503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/08/biting-my-finger-nails.html' title='Biting my finger nails...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2684912830373867325</id><published>2007-08-29T16:11:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T16:14:05.964+10:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll have your Daddy's eyes - Sarah Connor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is Father's Day this Sunday, the first one for my husband. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Here is a lovely song I found (and so true):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hello morning light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I cannot fight the feeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Something’s changed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I’m lying in my bed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And feel a second&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;heartbeat in my veins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The sky is more blue than yesterday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The grass is green and high&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The sun sends out her warmest rays&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To welcome you my child&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Every time that I think of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel a love that’s sostrong and true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know when you arrive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You’ll have your daddy’s eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Every time that I’m feeling blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I sit right back and I think of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That’s when I realize&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You’ll have your daddy’s eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2684912830373867325?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2684912830373867325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2684912830373867325' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2684912830373867325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2684912830373867325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/08/youll-have-your-daddys-eyes-sarah.html' title='You&apos;ll have your Daddy&apos;s eyes - Sarah Connor'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-8190537068164224519</id><published>2007-08-24T15:50:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T16:02:43.591+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustrated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why did it feel like it took one month to get to my 20 week 'half-way' mark and why does it feel like 5 months since then?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am in a bit of a frustrated state now. We have shopped for a few most of the major things for the baby's nursery; I have read ahead all the way to the end of most of my pregnancy books; I have set a date for the baby shower and my sisters are taking care of the details; everyone I know has been told that I am pregnant and we have caught up to celebrate...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I just want my baby to be here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also, quite selfishly I want my body back. I know I should be trying to enjoy this pregnancy, and for the most part I am, but is it so bad to wish my husband could 'take over' the pregnancy just every so often? Maybe just one night per week to let me sleep a whole night through.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have started to get uncomfortable sitting for long periods and as for lying in bed at night, I have no trouble getting to sleep, but after a few hours of rest my hips ache and I just lie there waiting for morning to come so that I can stop lying down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On the up side, only I can &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; feel the baby move and kick and my heart sings whenever this happens (even in the middle of the night when it keeps me from sleeping).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;24 weeks 4 days&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-8190537068164224519?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8190537068164224519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=8190537068164224519' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8190537068164224519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8190537068164224519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/08/frustrated.html' title='Frustrated'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6183443468021368776</id><published>2007-08-13T10:54:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T10:55:00.003+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A cousin for Pudding</title><content type='html'>I am so excited for my little unborn child as I found out over the weekend that Pudding has a little unborn cousin!  After a long time trying, my husband’s sister is pregnant and due in April.  She is so lucky because next month is when they were due to start IVF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not supposed to know yet because she is only 5 weeks pregnant and doesn’t want to announce it, but her over-excited parents were bursting to announce the good news to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to lunch with my husband’s parents and two little children crossed the road in front of us.  They couldn’t’ help saying, “Soon that will be us with two little grandchildren” and we sort of figured it out from there since my SIL is their only other child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is only early days for her, but I am so happy.  I really didn’t realise how sad I felt for Pudding that he/she wouldn’t have any little cousins to play with growing up.  My siblings are far from settling down and my SIL was the only other hope.  I had so much fun playing with cousins at family parties when I was young, and I was sad that it didn’t look like Pudding would get to experience that.  But now I imagine Christmas and other family occasions with at least one other child and I am so excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6183443468021368776?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6183443468021368776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6183443468021368776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6183443468021368776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6183443468021368776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/08/cousin-for-pudding.html' title='A cousin for Pudding'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5712280543333984773</id><published>2007-08-03T10:30:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T10:33:38.943+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My belly has grown quite a bit over the last week. I compare myself to photos of other people at 22 weeks and I am still quite small, but I figure I had quite a lot of space for my belly to grow into. Although I was in the healthy weight range prior to becoming pregnant, I am so tall (180 cm / 6 foot) and have always had hips that could only be described as ‘child bearing’ so Pudding has lots of space without protruding too much. But now, all of a sudden I look pregnant. It is great!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel our little one move regularly, especially at night after dinner until I fall asleep. My husband has started reading Enid Blyton’s “The Magic Far Away Tree” to Pudding and I as we are going to sleep, although far from calming Pudding down, I get more kicks as he reads than I do for most of the day. It feels nice though, feels like we are a little family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have to start organising baby things now, we have only purchased a couple of things so far and now want to start looking at a change table which doubles as a chest of drawers and a car seat for bubs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing research on baby car seats and I think I am going to go for the baby capsule and then get a toddler seat once they are 6 months. I can see how the ones that double as a baby capsule and then turn around to make a toddler seat make sense, however, I really think being able to lift the baby out of the car in the capsule will be a lot easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, these are the issues that fill my days (when I should be working!)…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;21 weeks, 4 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5712280543333984773?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5712280543333984773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5712280543333984773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5712280543333984773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5712280543333984773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/08/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-1568587961586934846</id><published>2007-07-27T13:56:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T14:03:44.021+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am so lazy! It has been ages since writing down what has been happening in this pregnancy journal. Happily, this is mostly because things have been pretty pleasant and smooth. Some milestones/events:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* After patiently waiting night after night with his hand on my belly, my husband felt a good strong kick from Pudding. It was the largest one I have felt to date, so he was very lucky! Admittedly, it did occur after I had eaten a large serve of melted cooking chocolate (just had a craving for chocolate and it was all that was in the house!).&lt;br /&gt;· We had our first midwife appointment with the family birthing suite. All went well, except when she tried to hear Pudding’s heartbeat through the Doppler and couldn’t find it for about 20 minutes – I think &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; heart was standing still for a good 10 minutes. She finally called in another midwife who pocked and prodded and found Pudding hiding behind the placenta. Cheeky little thing!&lt;br /&gt;· I finally got a haircut. I was so ashamed of walking into my salon considering the state of my hair that I wore it tied back and wouldn’t remove the tie until I explained to my hairdresser why my hair was so horrible (‘&lt;em&gt;I got pregnant and haven’t been to the hairdresser since’&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;· We went to a musical over the weekend (Sweet Charity) and I think Pudding loved it; especially the part when everyone applauded – Pudding must have been trying to applaud with us judging by the movement I was feeling.&lt;br /&gt;· My belly is growing daily, yesterday I noticed I could no longer do up the top two buttons of my overcoat (the bottom one had not been done up in about a month). It’s ok, the worst of winter is behind us now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OK, think that sums it up. Must remember to be more diligent in recording this pregnancy as I am already over halfway and I think the rest will go by just as fast!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;20 weeks 4 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-1568587961586934846?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1568587961586934846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=1568587961586934846' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1568587961586934846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1568587961586934846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7588936295323039868</id><published>2007-07-19T10:08:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T10:09:10.146+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultrasound</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;10 fingers,&lt;br /&gt;10 toes,&lt;br /&gt;2 kidneys,&lt;br /&gt;2 eyes,&lt;br /&gt;1 nose,&lt;br /&gt;1 mouth,&lt;br /&gt;stunning profile,&lt;br /&gt;long legs,&lt;br /&gt;strong heart,&lt;br /&gt;cute footprints,&lt;br /&gt;likes to move a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our perfect baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our little one wouldn’t sit still for long enough for the doctor to take measurements at the ultrasound, which was fine with us as it just meant longer we got to watch the amazing being on the screen in front of us as he/she wriggled, sucked his/her thumb and rolled around.  We have a great 20 minute DVD (which of course we have watched and re-watched) showing incredible detail of the ultrasound.  The doctor was lovely and kept saying she could watch our baby all day because it was perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our baby seems to have Mum’s height as he/she was measuring a little ahead of our 19 week 1 day mark (19 weeks 6 days).  But the best news of all, our baby is healthy and no anomalies were found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband almost succumbed at the last minute and asked if the baby would be a footy player or ballerina, but then decided to stick to our ‘surprise’ stance.  We have offcourse tried to determine it since by watching the DVD back and pausing it is opportune places!  To our untrained eyes it looks like a girl in some positions and a boy in others.  Guess we find out in about 20 weeks anyway!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7588936295323039868?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7588936295323039868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7588936295323039868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7588936295323039868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7588936295323039868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/ultrasound.html' title='Ultrasound'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7181858260752214086</id><published>2007-07-16T15:19:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T15:23:31.778+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Hospital</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The hospital visit was fantastic.  It really made all this ‘baby’ and ‘pregnancy’ stuff seem real.  I had an introductory meeting with both a midwife and an obstetrician and was happy to see the words ‘low risk’ and ‘normal’ written many times throughout my patient folder.  I got to hear my baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler – that was &lt;em&gt;amazing &lt;/em&gt;and very reassuring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only two downsides to the experience:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to get weighed… OMG, I have put on so much weight!  I am now (&lt;em&gt;cringe&lt;/em&gt;) 89.25 kg (with &lt;em&gt;winter weight&lt;/em&gt; clothes and &lt;em&gt;shoes&lt;/em&gt; on – does that make it any better?!).  &lt;em&gt;Mitigating factor&lt;/em&gt;: I am 6 foot tall, so my BMI is 27 so it is just inside ‘overweight’ if I was not pregnant and ‘healthy’ since I am 19 weeks pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am officially (&lt;em&gt;slightly&lt;/em&gt;) heavier than my husband.  Aaaarrrgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other (and less superficial) downside was getting a pap smear test done.  I was so nervous my blood pressure went up to 180/70, and I kept asking for reassurance that it would not pose any threat &lt;em&gt;what-so-ever&lt;/em&gt; to my baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told to expect light bleeding after the test, and always the optimist, I expected, light bleeding.  You know, maybe a few, hard to discern speckles of blood… What I did not expect was that they should have given me a pad after the test because my undies were so badly stained I will have throw them out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully all the blood came at once and despite several trips to the loo per hour for the rest of the day (and well into the evening), no more ‘spotting’ occurred. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after being told about how ‘normal’ and ‘low risk’ my pregnancy was I was offered to elect to use the &lt;strong&gt;Family Birthing Suite&lt;/strong&gt; rather than the normal labour ward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sounded quite good, my husband will be able to sleep in the room with us for our stay and will be fed too, the rooms look a lot more like a bedroom than a hospital and I will be guaranteed my own private room, and all my visits from now on will be with the small team of midwives (a couple will be with the obstetrician of their unit) who will be there to deliver the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The midwives let you decide how much pain relief you need, but they advocate other techniques such as massage, music and movement being used first.  In the suite they are able to give labouring women gas and pethidine but not epidural.  I wanted to avoid epidural anyway (if possible – I have no idea how bad the pain will be though) and if for some reason I wanted/needed it I can be wheeled upstairs into the normal labour ward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ditto for if something goes ‘wrong’ in the labour (or in the pregnancy meanwhile which would make me a higher than ‘low’ risk), I can just be accepted upstairs with no drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all sounds great, but I am still a little worried.  All the machines for monitoring the baby in normal labour wards are deemed not necessary in the birthing unit, however midwives check using the Doppler every half hour and I have read that by not using the machines the nurses will monitor other signs more closely and not rely on the machines as much as they can in labour wards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other concerns are that I can only stay in the birthing suite 1 or 2 nights after the baby is delivered (I can go into a normal labour bed afterwards is something is wrong, or if I feel I need more time to rest &amp; recover), and that I won’t be able to bear the pain (although I really hate the sound of an epidural anyway, not so much the needle bit – although that is icky – but not being able to feel my legs scares me and I have heard the experience of not knowing when to ‘push’ can take away from the labour experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I signed up for the Family Birthing Suite, I hope I am making the right decision… I guess I can always change my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any comments/opinions on this type of labour?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;19 weeks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7181858260752214086?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7181858260752214086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7181858260752214086' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7181858260752214086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7181858260752214086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/hospital.html' title='Hospital'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-8238072216198666074</id><published>2007-07-10T11:10:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T11:11:23.150+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A shopping trip is in order</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Happily, my belly is growing daily and I am starting to struggle to find any of my previous clothes I can fit into.  I have a small selection of maternity wear that I will have to add to soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lovely husband bought me a beautiful maternity dress to wear to my Mum’s 50th last weekend.  The ladies in the shop told him it would flatter my newly found breasts and accentuate my growing bump.  And boy, did it do what it was supposed to!  I went from being a little rounded in the waist to looking like I had swallowed a basketball! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice.  My Mum was happy, she keeps telling me how ‘respectable’ my bump is and she wanted to show it off to all the guests at her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very excited as I have my first hospital visit this Friday and another ultrasound next Tuesday.  I am getting anxious that all is well with Pudding as it has been so long between ultrasounds, and I look forward to seeing the little mite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18 weeks 1 day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-8238072216198666074?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8238072216198666074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=8238072216198666074' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8238072216198666074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8238072216198666074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/shopping-trip-is-in-order.html' title='A shopping trip is in order'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-4009266805945226347</id><published>2007-07-05T15:38:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T15:44:35.214+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Aches, pains and twitches</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I always knew that &lt;em&gt;having&lt;/em&gt; a child would be painful, but had no idea that &lt;em&gt;growing&lt;/em&gt; a child would be too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My abdomen constantly has aches and pains not dissimilar to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;premenstrual&lt;/span&gt; pain.  Thought I'd gotten myself out of that kind of pain for a good 9 months - obviously not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The newest abdomen feeling started last week when I was at the cinemas.  I started to get a twitch, like the annoying kind you might get in your eye when you are over tired.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But I have never had a twitch in my uterus before.&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After careful examination I have deduced that it is in fact my little one kicking/punching me to let me know he/she is having fun in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At least this twitch is adorable rather than annoying!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-4009266805945226347?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4009266805945226347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=4009266805945226347' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4009266805945226347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4009266805945226347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/aches-pains-and-twitches.html' title='Aches, pains and twitches'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5481324959543583587</id><published>2007-07-02T12:49:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T13:00:40.353+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Food glorious food</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't know if it is 'normal' but I have started getting &lt;em&gt;even &lt;/em&gt;hungrier than normal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pre&lt;/span&gt;-pregnancy I always had breakfast (2 slices of toast with Vegemite) as soon as I woke up, and then '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;twoosies&lt;/span&gt;': my second breakfast (4 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;weet-bix&lt;/span&gt; with milk and a piece of fruit) just after getting into work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This no longer satisfies me until lunch time. So I have taken to having 4 slices of toast when I wake up in the morning! Overkill? Maybe, but it is better than attacking the cookie jar at work at 11.30 a.m. when I can't stand waiting for lunch any longer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Many people ask me about my cravings during pregnancy - I haven't have any crazy ones like books and movies seem to portray (does anyone have them? Let me know if you have/had some good ones). But I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;addicted&lt;/span&gt; to 3 things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1. orange juice - I could happily drink 3 litres a day if it weren't so expensive (I always liked O.J. especially when I had a hang over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-pregnancy, it was the only thing that would make me feel better again)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2. eggs - I just love them any time of the day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3. grainy bread - goes well with the eggs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;See, they are all pretty normal things to like. Not exactly 'ice-cream and pickles' though is it?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17 weeks today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5481324959543583587?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5481324959543583587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5481324959543583587' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5481324959543583587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5481324959543583587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/07/food-glorious-food.html' title='Food glorious food'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3057359512693562366</id><published>2007-06-28T11:42:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T11:43:57.702+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry-baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last night I went to see a movie (Knocked-Up) and found myself crying at the end – it is a romantic comedy! Other things I have found myself crying over lately include magazine articles and newspaper editorials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I seriously going to be the crying pregnant chick for the next 5 months?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;16 weeks 3 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3057359512693562366?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3057359512693562366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3057359512693562366' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3057359512693562366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3057359512693562366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/cry-baby.html' title='Cry-baby!'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-8795273443973841134</id><published>2007-06-25T11:14:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T11:15:40.501+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloody pregnancy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I only just got into work now because I have had a horrible blood nose all morning – at one point I wondered if it is possible to bleed to death from a blood nose!  I hear that blood noses are a normal pregnancy thing because of having so much extra blood and estrogens. It still sucks though, I have never had one before and it is horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept having to change tissues every 30 seconds or so because I would fill them up so quickly.  And now I can’t stop smelling blood but I am too scared to blow my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to stay home until 9.00 and then it was down to a trickle (after well over an hour of steady blood flow) and then looked like a diseased leaper on the tram because I was holding a bloodied tissue to my nose for the whole trip!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway… the joys!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16 weeks today!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-8795273443973841134?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8795273443973841134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=8795273443973841134' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8795273443973841134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/8795273443973841134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/bloody-pregnancy.html' title='Bloody pregnancy'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-1392318454858495017</id><published>2007-06-22T10:35:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T10:36:39.926+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Our first purchases</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am very excited.  My lounge room sort of looks like a baby department store at the moment.  We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t really intend on buying a lot early on in the pregnancy, I wanted to take my time and shop around to try to find the best for our baby and the best value for our wallets.  However, we happened to stumble across a catalogue advertising a cot that we liked for 50% off.  How could we refuse I ask you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I called the store last week and got it put on hold and then we attempted to go after work and pick it up.  This all worked well up to the point that we paid for the cot (and mattress) and then tried to put in into the car.  These lovely young boys from the store, along with my husband, tried very, very hard to get the flat packed cot into our (standard sized) car to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily my father-in-law had as a big 4-wheel drive and was able to help out over the weekend by driving over and being our delivery service.  The best part was seeing his face when he saw the cot.  He knew what it was he was coming over to help us with, but still I think it hit him that he is going to be a grandpa when he saw the cot (box).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, early this week, my husband called me during work hours and it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t sound like he was in his office.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t initially tell me where he was, but eventually fessed-up that he had taken a break from his desk to visit ‘Baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bunting&lt;/span&gt;’.  Too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, he had seen a pram in one of my pregnancy magazines and I think he fell in love with it.  So of course when he saw that the store had an offer that if you buy the pram, you get the baby bassinet attachment free, he naturally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t resit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now my ‘just right for two’ sized apartment is filled with boxes of baby goods.  I know we will have to find space for then eventually (well in the next 5 months) anyway, but I thought I might be able to have an uncluttered home space for a while longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still it is so cute to look at all the baby goods!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;15 weeks 5 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-1392318454858495017?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1392318454858495017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=1392318454858495017' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1392318454858495017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1392318454858495017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/our-first-purchases.html' title='Our first purchases'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3056046086478147130</id><published>2007-06-19T12:08:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T12:16:23.554+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Could it possibly be?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The last few days &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I have sneezed (fairly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;regularly&lt;/span&gt; given the cold, cold weather around here) I have felt a small flutter in my belly. At first I thought there was no way it could be my baby, that I must just be imagining it, but it is getting stronger day by day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Is week 16 too soon to feel it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wish I knew what to expect with the baby moving. Everyone seems to describe it differently. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh well, if it is, then it is amazing and magic to think that my baby is moving inside me. If it is not, I am sure it will happen soon enough and then it will be amazing and magical!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It took me no time at all to realise and accept that I was pregnant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It took me a little while longer to realise that that meant I was going to have a baby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now I am just waiting for it to sink in that the baby I am having is inside me. I think when I know I can feel its movements, that will be when I really put all of the peices together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;15 weeks 1 day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3056046086478147130?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3056046086478147130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3056046086478147130' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3056046086478147130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3056046086478147130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/could-it-possibly-be.html' title='Could it possibly be?'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3640642658363467467</id><published>2007-06-15T16:18:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T16:23:50.258+10:00</updated><title type='text'>The joys...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I really, really mean it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I want you to go and leave me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I need you to leave me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I will feel peace at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;releasing&lt;/span&gt; you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You have caused me so much pain already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;If only I could fart.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This is my ode to one of the many joys of pregnancy: flatulence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3640642658363467467?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3640642658363467467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3640642658363467467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3640642658363467467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3640642658363467467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/joys.html' title='The joys...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5191633063704518632</id><published>2007-06-14T13:35:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T13:57:08.072+10:00</updated><title type='text'>9 month panic attack</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(title stolen from article on 'the opposite of knocked-up' blog)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I had quite a major freak &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; yesterday. I have been feeling unwell (not unlike morning sickness - but that 'stopped' a few weeks ago) for the last few days and woke up to get breakfast yesterday and had only just made it to the kitchen before I was doubled over in pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I sometimes get pain when I need to use the bathroom, and since I have been so 'blocked up' lately I assumed I just needed to have a 'number 2'. So I proceeded to the bathroom where the pain continued and I stared thinking about all the horrible things that could be causing the pain. Of course my biggest concern was Pudding's well being.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bring on the panic attack!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;stranger&lt;/span&gt; to being called 'highly strung', 'type A personality, etc, etc. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;also&lt;/span&gt; easily talked into physical symptoms I read about (I have even convinced myself that I was having a heart attack after the new 'how to know when you are having a heart attack' commercials were first released - how's that for highly strung &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hypochondriac&lt;/span&gt; behaviour?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So sitting there on the loo, stressing over my baby and I started to get all hot and had to tear my clothing off straight away, I started to get dizzy and my hearing started dimming (this happens right before I faint normally). I was a sight for sore eyes by the time my husband arose from his peaceful slumber to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;attend&lt;/span&gt; to my calls for help. &lt;em&gt;'Honey, I think I am &lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt; unwell'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, by the time my husband calmed me down and I managed to use the bathroom (in front of him for the first time after 5 years of living together! Yuck!), the pain started to subside, as did my panic attack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So all of that fuss over a bowel movement!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I did ofcourse take the day of work, which wasn't entirely through laziness - the pain took a while to go away entirely and I thought it best to see my doctor (despite it being a 40 minute drive each way). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course I knew the doctor couldn't do anything for me, she had a feel around and said not to worry - offered me a referral for ultrasound if I really wanted it (which I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; did want but felt a bit silly going for &lt;em&gt;another&lt;/em&gt; one) and I insisted she take my blood pressure since I'd made the big trek out there (which is a little silly as my blood pressure is normally 'low' and throughout pregnancy has only risen to 'normal').&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hense the title, I think this 9 months will end up being my longest panic attack to date!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;14weeks 3 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5191633063704518632?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5191633063704518632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5191633063704518632' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5191633063704518632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5191633063704518632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/9-month-panic-attack.html' title='9 month panic attack'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3538441136128648264</id><published>2007-06-07T12:13:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T12:14:48.841+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddha belly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It seems sometime this week my belly has grown. All of a sudden, people have started feeling like they have permission to rub my belly, as though it is not a part of me, merely where my baby is living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t really mind. It might be different when I get bigger and strangers feel the need, but the ladies at work just mean to make a fuss of ‘us’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This coincides with another event, I purchased my first maternity top! My normal tops are starting to get a little short at the bottom and my boobs are busting out of my b-cup designed tops. I did want to hold off a little longer than this, week 14 sounds quite early to buy new clothes, but I needed something to wear out last night, so thought I’d treat myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3538441136128648264?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3538441136128648264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3538441136128648264' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3538441136128648264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3538441136128648264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/budda-belly.html' title='Buddha belly'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-4014973833663206857</id><published>2007-06-01T12:22:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T12:26:11.881+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Exam anxiety</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have just settled back into work after a 5 day ‘study break’. This was a totally different study break than any other I have had. In my last post graduate degree I was ‘a machine’; I’d be up at the crack of dawn ready to absorb as much of the law as I could before finally retiring to bed 18 hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before falling pregnant (and having no idea how long it would take to get that way) I decided, or was coerced into undertaking a further post graduate degree. It is only now that I realise how senseless it was. The law is demanding at the best of times but when I have to deal with it all day and then go home to study it on weekends while trying to fit in naps and bathroom visits, it is outright tiring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had an exam on Tuesday, I spent the 5 days leading up to it in a mix of reading legislation, reading baby books, napping and watching Oprah. This is not my usual study routine…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, the morning of the exam I left home with an hour to spare and when I was nearly at the exam venue has a sudden realisation ‘&lt;em&gt;I won't be able to last 3 hours without eating – I’ll just pop in to McDonalds for lunch first&lt;/em&gt;.’ Again, not my normal exam preparation (let alone eating habits!)…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was about half an hour until the start of the exam, I was sitting serenely eating my Big Mac, when I realised I would be late if I didn’t leave then. So I rushed back to the car, zoomed up 20+ levels of parking until finally finding a rooftop one, sprinted through the convention centre (ok, my idea of ‘sprinting’ is quite different now since pregnancy and bear in mind I was carrying piles of books and legislation) and finally made it to my exam with 5 minutes to use the bathroom (what else) before it started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not my ordinary exam venue, pre-reading exercise…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the good news is that I think the adrenaline from the ‘&lt;em&gt;I’m going to be late’&lt;/em&gt; panic meant that I attacked my exam with vigour that I haven’t experienced since becoming pregnant. I finished it all with a few minutes to spare to read over it, and then returned home to collapse, exhausted into a heap on my couch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-4014973833663206857?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4014973833663206857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=4014973833663206857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4014973833663206857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/4014973833663206857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/06/exam-anxiety.html' title='Exam anxiety'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2827573879949999598</id><published>2007-05-24T08:43:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T08:53:19.146+10:00</updated><title type='text'>The strangest thing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel great!  Everyone kept telling me how the whole pregnancy thing would get better but I didn't &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Until suddenly, 2 days ago, I realised that I hadn't felt sick all day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This was followed by yesterday, another day that I didn't feel sick, in fact, I was able to do a quick tidy up of the house before hubby got home last night - where did all this energy come from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This morning I feel quite positive and in good spirits, something I have been unable to say about myself for a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I read that Pudding feels all the emotions that I do because hormones through the bloodstream will take adrenaline etc to my unborn baby.  When a baby is born it already has a view of the world from how their mother felt felt about the world throughout the pregnancy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This makes sense to me, if I feel that the world is a happy, loving place and my baby also feels these emotions, when born Pudding already has this view of the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What I was worried about was that, because I was feeling so negative for so long (as an example, throughout the first three months I was known to utter to my husband that I think Pudding will be an only child because I couldn't imagine knowingly making myself go through this again - how bad is that?!) that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pudding&lt;/span&gt; would be born with a preconceived idea that the world is a horrible, depressing place and keep that view through out life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, since feeling more positive (and praying that it will continue) I have less fear of Pudding feeling this way and I feel such &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;relief&lt;/span&gt; to feel this semblance of 'normal' again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2827573879949999598?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2827573879949999598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2827573879949999598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2827573879949999598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2827573879949999598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/05/strangest-thing.html' title='The strangest thing...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6036875224481390232</id><published>2007-05-17T08:01:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T08:14:20.089+10:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and my husband is in love, we are both so in love with our baby!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We had an ultrasound on Monday (the doctor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;recommended&lt;/span&gt; it after the slight spotting episode) and it was even more incredible than the first one we had back at 6 weeks.  This time, rather than a little spot on a screen with a little flickering area (the heart) we could make out (with help from the nurse) the head, body and arm and leg buds!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We could also see the heart beating (175&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bpm&lt;/span&gt; - does this sounds too fast to you?  The nurse said it was normal) and Pudding was waving its little arm and leg buds around at us. &lt;em&gt;Hi Mum, Hi Dad, it's me in here!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is one thing to see in books and on the i&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nternet&lt;/span&gt; what your baby looks like at this stage of development - it is another thing entirely to see &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; baby at this stage of development.  It was beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pudding was measuring perfectly - 10 weeks 2 days on Monday - it was just such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;relief&lt;/span&gt; and an amazing experience.  I can't wait for my next scan (I am booked in for week 19 - how do you expect me to wait that long before getting the high of seeing my little one growing and moving?).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I now sort of wish we opted for the 10-12 week Down's screening - we decided not to go through with it because we are not high risk and I looked at the statistics - 1 in 25 get a 'high risk' result, but in my age group only 1 in 10,000 have the actual risk, I would just be stressing myself out for something that is unlikely.  In addition, our personal preference would be to continue with the pregnancy regardless, so the point is mute.  The only reason I sort of wish we decided to do it is so that I can see Pudding again before the 19 week mark!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6036875224481390232?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6036875224481390232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6036875224481390232' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6036875224481390232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6036875224481390232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-am-in-love.html' title='I am in love...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7571096346744557433</id><published>2007-05-10T13:37:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T13:42:22.599+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Pudding</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;While I have been having lots of good old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;whinge&lt;/span&gt; sessions about this pregnancy, I should have instead been thinking about all that my unborn baby 'Pudding' has been going through.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For instance, look at all that my little one has accomplished this week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; got one whole inch of baby to measure! Our little embryo has finally reached the one-inch mark (30mm) at last. And if it were possible to take a peek, you could see Pudding with your naked eye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“I'm Swimming!” Pudding has begun moving inside my womb although it's too small for me to notice yet.  Pudding is wriggling, shifting, and dancing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;already! Makes you almost wish for a window to peek in whenever you want!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What’s more, Pudding is finally starting to take on some very distinct human features. For starters, his or her little tail (really just the spinal cord) has disappeared completely. It’s nice to know Pudding can no longer be mistaken for a sea creature! Additionally, toes and fingers are prominent with very little, if any, webbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Most of the joints are formed now - elbow, wrist, knee, shoulder, and ankle as well as the hands, fingers, feet and toes.  Pudding is practicing bending and flexing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Right now, Pudding’s head is disproportionately larger than the rest of his or her body--making up almost half of our little one’s height and weight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Baby will curve its fingers around an object placed in the palm of its hand – Pudding is fascinated by everything he or she can lay their fingers on (mainly other fingers, toes, ears and nose)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fingerprints are already evident in the skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Average size this week -- length 0.9 inch (2.3cm), weight 0.07 ounce (2gm)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7571096346744557433?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7571096346744557433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7571096346744557433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7571096346744557433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7571096346744557433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/05/pudding.html' title='Pudding'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3159163185302324092</id><published>2007-05-08T12:45:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:53:27.628+10:00</updated><title type='text'>A Teensy-weensy scare</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Well we had a &lt;em&gt;little &lt;/em&gt;scare on Sunday, where I a &lt;em&gt;little&lt;/em&gt; blood was found when I wiped.  It really was so little, like a few drops (but just diluted by my other fluids) of brownish stuff.  Nothing else since.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Everything I read tells me not to worry - that it does sometimes happen.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have of course since noticed every little twinge in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;abdomen&lt;/span&gt;, but I think it is just like I have had throughout the pregnancy - presumably ligament stretching etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I still booked in to see my doctor for this Thursday (the earliest I could get), just to let her know.  Also because when I researched about this, I found that any yellow discharge during pregnancy should be tested as it could be an infection and needs treatment.  For the last couple of weeks I have had such discharge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh the joys.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My Mum is great - every time I stress over a little thing she just thinks it is great: &lt;em&gt;'Isn't it amazing how much you just love this little one already and worry over its safety already'.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3159163185302324092?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3159163185302324092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3159163185302324092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3159163185302324092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3159163185302324092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/05/teensy-weensy-scare.html' title='A Teensy-weensy scare'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5102677861341361914</id><published>2007-05-02T13:47:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T13:59:16.409+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know I haven't written in a while. I guess I have just been too busy with 'survival'. It is a constant thing on my mind - where my next meal will come from to ease the nausea. Then in the evenings when it subsides I have no energy to do very much except &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;watch&lt;/span&gt; TV and sleep early, knowing full well that the next round of morning sickness is not too far away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last night as my husband sat stroking my hairy legs (do you really think I can be bothered shaving now) he casually asked 'so, do you moisturise anymore?' because my legs are so dry they are almost growing scales! Although he didn't mean any offence, it was not the best thing to say to a hormonal pregnant woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I went to bed thinking about all that had changed in the last couple of months; I no longer can be bothered to put on make-up (ditto for shaving, moisturising, exfoliating etc.), I only wash my hair when I &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to, I eat all hours of the day (I even ate hot chips as a 'snack' the other day without a second thought), I no longer visit the gym, I can not be bothered at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The last one is really getting me down actually. It wouldn't be so bad if work was just work, but work is a career to me. I spent 4 years at university and then another 3 years completing my post-graduate part time while working, I am in fact currently undertaking a further advanced taxation law course. However, lately, I just don't seem to care about work at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am not sure if it is because I know I am leaving at the end of this year and that any work I do now will be redundant because who will remember next year what kind of work I was doing early this year.  Or maybe it is the morning sickness and hormones, I mean it is not easy to work feeling this ill, but most pregnant people manage it.  Maybe it is just both.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyway, this was a really whinging post, I didn't mean it to be.  I am actually writing because I suddenly had the realisation of all of this today and am going to change it all tonight.  Tonight, i am locking myself in the bathroom until I look super-model-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5102677861341361914?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5102677861341361914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5102677861341361914' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5102677861341361914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5102677861341361914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/05/survival.html' title='Survival'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3506066519106304178</id><published>2007-04-23T08:31:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T08:37:55.900+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbeat so sweet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Left work early on Friday to have our first ultrasound.  I was so nervous.  I kept dreaming through the week that there were problems with our baby and other times I would dream that there were actually two babies, then again that there four!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So after a lot of stress I am pleased to say that there is one little baby in me and it is growing inside a yolk sac in the correct position and measures 6 weeks.  We had been counting six weeks 4 days on Friday, but I am told at this early stage it is easy for them to be off by a little, so I am not too worried about a few days difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The best part was that (while doing an internal ultrasound) they were able to point out pudding's heartbeat!  It was amazing.  It was beating at 120 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bmp&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I guess there are some things worth all this morning sickness for.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3506066519106304178?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3506066519106304178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3506066519106304178' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3506066519106304178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3506066519106304178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/heartbeat-so-sweet.html' title='Heartbeat so sweet'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7303240883142079234</id><published>2007-04-20T10:15:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T10:16:10.916+10:00</updated><title type='text'>My cuppa addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My Philippine born husband often used to roll his eyes in exasperation at the amount of tea that I, as a (British heritage) Australian, would drink. As soon as we started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TTC&lt;/span&gt; I switched to decaf tea – which suited me fine, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t quite as strong and not as delicious, but I was happy nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the thought of a cup of tea makes me fell completely ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is the world coming to?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7303240883142079234?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7303240883142079234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7303240883142079234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7303240883142079234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7303240883142079234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-cuppa-addiction.html' title='My cuppa addiction'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-7791227456759258396</id><published>2007-04-19T12:23:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T12:37:29.980+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Vicious cycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sorry to everyone who is not in the mood to hear one of the many whinges of a pregnant woman, but I just can't keep it in any longer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I really hope my husband and family like 'pudding' - because I seriously can not see myself doing this again - ever! I don't care how darn cute the kid is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel terrible. The only time I do not feel like I about about to throw up (although I haven't actually thrown up at all, just feel horribly close to doing so at all times) is when I have eaten recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And so I eat (or else I forget to and then have to &lt;em&gt;force&lt;/em&gt; myself to eat something which, when nauseous is easier said than done), I eat and eat all day. I have also quit the gym, I was too tired. And so I eat, and eat, and sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And then I feel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;depressed&lt;/span&gt; because all the books tell me I should not have put on weight yet; I haven't weighed myself but I am sure (judging from the way my pants fit me) that I have put on at least 3 kilos already. My family deny I look fat but I guess it is easy to hide on my six foot tall frame - lots of sneaky places to put it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And so I go on eating and feeling depressed, the alternative sick feeling is worse (I think).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-7791227456759258396?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7791227456759258396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=7791227456759258396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7791227456759258396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/7791227456759258396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/vicious-cycle.html' title='Vicious cycle'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3473110171564187293</id><published>2007-04-17T10:47:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T10:48:49.733+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty talk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning:&lt;/strong&gt; anyone who does not want to read about my bowel movements I suggest you stop reading this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so I panicked a little yesterday – the power of suggestion is very strong for me!  I decided to do a little research on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; on what lower abdominal pain during pregnancy could be caused by (note to self: you are better left in the dark – do not undertake own research on medical conditions in the future.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being able to cross off most major threats that it could have been (for example miscarriage is most often accompanied by bleeding before the pain), I was left with one major threat and several minor things which would not even warrant a visit to the doctor (e.g. constipation , ligament growing pains, etc).  The major one which I was worried about was ectopic pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read through all the symptoms and the treatments as well as potential complications.  While I was not is a high risk category but I had all the symptoms (including feeling faint, but I have low blood pressure anyway and the office air conditioning had failed yesterday so, looking back, that was probably not related).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I panicked so much (please bear in mind that I had been reading about the mortality rate form when the tube bursts and all kinds of horror stories) so I left work 3 hours early and booked in to my local clinic (which incidentally I have only been to once before since I prefer the GP near my Mum which is an hour away).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After waiting an hour and a half (can you believe they still charge you $50 to see the doctor when they have kept you waiting that long past your appointment time!) I finally saw the doctor who pocked and prodded me a bit before announcing that it could be any number of things and I should monitor it over the next 48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thanks for those pearls of wisdom there, doctor – so glad I waited all that time when I could have been resting at home on the couch in front of some juicy daytime soaps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only comforting thing he could manage to say was that if it was ectopic pregnancy he ‘thinks’ I might be in a lot more pain than I was.  I called my husband and then Mum (in future I really should do it the other way around as my husband &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;calmed&lt;/span&gt; me down, but speaking to my Mum stressed me out because she is also a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;panicker&lt;/span&gt; by nature) and then sat in front of the television for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered my less than usual bowel movements I had been complaining about that morning, so decided to test the constipation causing pain theory and try for another movement.  Low and behold, once I had been to the bathroom again, I felt SO much better – no nagging pain at all.  It did return again after I ate dinner, but I am hoping that it is just the need to number two again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so much better today – I can notice a little pain when I think about it, but I probably would never have noticed it if it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hadn&lt;/span&gt;’t have been for yesterday’s stronger pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3473110171564187293?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3473110171564187293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3473110171564187293' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3473110171564187293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3473110171564187293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/potty-talk.html' title='Potty talk'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3485093660912268075</id><published>2007-04-16T13:31:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T13:39:53.503+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Worry</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Although my emotions have been roller-coasting a lot of late, one thing has not changed: &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;worry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I really want to relax and enjoy this experience, but I am so worried by every little pain that I am robbing myself of the enjoyment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I have not have my first real doctor visit yet, I am scheduled for the GP on Wednesday who will take me though hospital options and book me in for an ultrasound. I can't wait for the ultrasound, until then, I can't rest easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Late night I woke up experiencing a rather sharp paid in my lower abdominal on the left side.  It was mild though and I probably wouldn't have even noticed ti if I wasn't pregnant (and thus &lt;em&gt;worried&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I still have a little nagging pain there now but I can't decide if it is all in my head or not!  &lt;em&gt;Worry, worry, worry&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In other news, by normally flat stomach has decided that gas and constipation have made it impossible to be flat any longer.  I had to go out on my lunch break and buy some maternity pants for work.  I don't really need maternity ones, just going up a size would have been fine, but I figure that these ones will stick around for the long haul if they are maternity style.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3485093660912268075?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3485093660912268075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3485093660912268075' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3485093660912268075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3485093660912268075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/worry.html' title='Worry'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6926968706639117925</id><published>2007-04-11T08:09:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T08:18:50.400+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Pudding</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; carrying my husband's child; I have started craving Kentucky Fried Chicken of all things! I would usually go a full year without once thinking of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt;, so I can only assume it is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt;-loving-husband's child's influence on me that has let loose the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; craving!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Incidentally&lt;/span&gt;, I have also developed a little tummy bump. I know it is too early for it to be pregnancy related, but I have a feeling it is related to the sudden &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; cravings and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pregnancy&lt;/span&gt; induced exhaustion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;All this has led me to name my bump 'pudding' because I think that all the extra pudding over Easter is what has caused it, but I think the name might stick throughout the pregnancy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6926968706639117925?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6926968706639117925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6926968706639117925' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6926968706639117925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6926968706639117925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/pudding.html' title='Pudding'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-335079371305555546</id><published>2007-04-10T14:58:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T15:01:48.686+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone say 'mood-swings'?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My poor darling husband; having to put up with me for the 4 day Easter break means that he deserves a medal, truly. I have been horrible to live with, bursting into song and dance one minute (often literally) and all sour and quite rude the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from that, these past few weekends we told our closest family about our pregnancy. I was quite excited for the most part. Here is how we told them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Mum&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum got told the boring-est way actually. I told her last weekend straight after the positive doctor test. She was lovely and burst into tears right on cue! She has been dying to tell my siblings all week but I wouldn’t let her because one of my sisters was away for the week and I wanted everyone together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr G’s parents&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was too cute, it was my father-in-law’s (‘papa’s’) birthday last Sunday so we wrapped up a baby themed photo frame and put inside a message that a photo was to be inserted in 8 months. It took him a little while to cotton on, but once he did neither he nor my mother-in-law stopped crying all night! We had been about to go out to dinner and papa had been starving, after hearing our news he announced that he was too excited and couldn’t possibly eat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part was that I had been standing ready to snap photos as soon as they realised and I have a brilliant one taken just as the penny sunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr G’s sister &amp;amp; brother-in-law&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the hardest because she is quite a lot older than us and has actually been trying for a baby for about 2 years now. We weren’t sure of the best way to go about it, Mr G thought waiting a few months would be best (but I thought it might be hard on her to know she was left out), his parents thought telling her over Easter when she came to Melbourne to visit would be nice (but I thought that it would be far too hard on her to be told face-to-face and then have to sit through dinner with a smile, I thought her parents should break the news to her over the phone a week before she came to Melbourne so that she would have time to prepare, so that is what we did. She was lovely and called her brother straight away to congratulate us. I am sure it must have been hard on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we had dinner with them on Saturday night she was lovely and made a fuss, but her husband (who is really the one that want’s children, she enjoys her current lifestyle far too much and is only TTCing for his sake) made a couple of comments which gave away his true feelings. &lt;em&gt;‘You guys don’t waste any time do you!’ ‘At least you know your boys can swim!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My siblings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited until Good Friday when all 3 of my siblings were there and then suggested a family photo and that hubby would take the shot. At the crucial ‘say cheese’ moment he instead called out &lt;em&gt;‘we’re pregnant!’&lt;/em&gt;. Again cue a series of priceless photos as my sisters and brother got sparkly eyes and started hugging me madly and exclaiming how they are going to be an aunty/uncle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-335079371305555546?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/335079371305555546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=335079371305555546' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/335079371305555546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/335079371305555546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/anyone-say-mood-swings.html' title='Anyone say &apos;mood-swings&apos;?'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-3753616851866151678</id><published>2007-04-05T12:13:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-05T12:32:20.244+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangnesses I've noticed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Just thought I'd document for future reference some of the things I have noticed in the short week I have known myself to be 'with child':&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am so, so sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;2. I have &lt;em&gt;slight&lt;/em&gt; soreness and sensitivity in my breasts - but strangely only one has grown and become quite firm while the other is normal (except the m&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ontgomery&lt;/span&gt; glands which have materialised on both).&lt;br /&gt;3. I need to pee every hour of the day. Luckily not too much at night, but maybe because that is because I am careful not to drink too much liquid after work hours.&lt;br /&gt;4. I check my underwear at each bathroom visit - I am so concerned that the spotting will come back or, worse, this will all be a cruel joke and I will actually get my period late.&lt;br /&gt;5. I have been trying to eat all the daily food requirements, but it is so much harder than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;you'd&lt;/span&gt; think. I am normally quite a health freak anyway, but this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;6. My belly is really itchy - is this a normal experience of pregnancy or something unrelated?&lt;br /&gt;7. I have started to waddle - I know it is &lt;em&gt;way&lt;/em&gt; too early for that and I haven't even put on any weight, but I am still acting as though I am full blown pregnant! Plus, I am sticking my belly out - or at least no longer holding it firm.&lt;br /&gt;8. I get quite teary at strange things. Not that abnormal for me, I am not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;stranger&lt;/span&gt; to a cry at an emotional movie or book, but this is at almost random things.&lt;br /&gt;9. I caress my belly when no one is watching, I just love the though of my baby being in there &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; much.&lt;br /&gt;10. I think the pregnancy is finally sinking in with us; my husband has started putting his face close to my belly and talking to our little 'baby love'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-3753616851866151678?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3753616851866151678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=3753616851866151678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3753616851866151678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/3753616851866151678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/strangnesses-ive-noticed.html' title='Strangnesses I&apos;ve noticed'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6496031003084542269</id><published>2007-04-04T13:35:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T13:42:33.980+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Test results</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Got the results back on my blood test; it was positive, but still faint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That's why I am hoping for some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pregnancy&lt;/span&gt; symptoms sometime soon - I need it to be confirmed by my body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Symptoms so far are limited to tiredness (but then who doesn't like a sleep) and I have almost carved a path between my desk and the bathroom at work. I will not be surprised if the receptionist who I walk by on the way to the bathroom clues in on my state soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess I will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;complaining&lt;/span&gt; about other symptoms in short course, but meanwhile I want them to come on so that I 'feel' pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6496031003084542269?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6496031003084542269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6496031003084542269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6496031003084542269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6496031003084542269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/test-results.html' title='Test results'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-2250037281105364933</id><published>2007-04-02T12:15:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T12:34:58.799+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollercoaster of emotions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow! What a weekend! My emotions were in a constant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;state&lt;/span&gt; of motion: up, down, up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;whole&lt;/span&gt; time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I knew it was very early to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;POAS&lt;/span&gt;, so I knew that to have any chance of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BFP&lt;/span&gt; it would have to be morning pee. So on Saturday morning when I woke &amp;amp; needed the bathroom at 6a.m., I woke my (so-not-a-morning-person-husband) and with shaking hand and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;trembling&lt;/span&gt; fingers undid the package and dipped the stick in!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Two and a half minutes later I realised that I was starting to get a second line (!) so called bleary-eyed hubby who confirmed that he could make out a faint line. He wasn't fully convinced even though the instructions said that if there was the faintest hint of a line, it is still positive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was pretty excited and couldn't go back to sleep so spent the whole morning reading &lt;em&gt;What to expect when you're expecting&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;DOWN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Saturday was also the wedding of one of my best friends, so we were all dressed up and about to walk out the door when I went to the bathroom and saw some blood. Not a lot of blood, but enough to horrify me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I spent the whole wedding in and out of the bathroom checking if any more came. Over the whole day only about 1 teaspoon came out, I know it wasn't much but I kept worrying that the next time I went there would be heaps more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I managed to get a little sleep that night and when we woke, hubby asked if I wanted to see my doctor to put my mind at ease. So were rushed off (as she finished at 12.00 that day) and were stuck in typical Melbourne traffic until my nerves were a wreck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The doctor told us not to worry, that a positive is a positive but that she would do a blood test and call on Monday. I asked if she would also do a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;POAS&lt;/span&gt; test and, as lovely as she is, agreed. Again her test was faint, but still positive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I still can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; it actually happened in the first month of actually trying. I do feel guilty knowing how many women in the world have to go through so much pain just trying to get a positive. But I am trying to turn that emotion into just being grateful, because I think the worst respect I can show to everyone is not being grateful for this gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Still waiting on the doctor to call to make me triple positive sometime today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-2250037281105364933?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2250037281105364933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=2250037281105364933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2250037281105364933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/2250037281105364933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/04/rollercoaster-of-emotions.html' title='Rollercoaster of emotions'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-1285424752184118999</id><published>2007-03-30T17:09:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T17:12:00.392+10:00</updated><title type='text'>On a slightly different note:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When is it cold &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;enough&lt;/span&gt; to turn on the heater at home?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It seems every autumn my husband and I have this debate.  I know it is only March but it is 18 degrees c&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;elsius&lt;/span&gt; today, I think that 18 degrees is cold enough for a heater in the evening.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;His argument makes a lot less sense: it is only March therefore not heater weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At least it will be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;August&lt;/span&gt; next week :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-1285424752184118999?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1285424752184118999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=1285424752184118999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1285424752184118999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1285424752184118999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/on-slightly-different-note.html' title='On a slightly different note:'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-6930901181616861450</id><published>2007-03-30T16:42:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T16:50:33.089+10:00</updated><title type='text'>POAS time!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The only way I have been able to get through this week is to promise myself that I will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;POAS&lt;/span&gt; Saturday morning. I know it is probably too early to tell anyway, but the test says 3-4 days prior to expected AF. Tomorrow it will be 2 days, so I am hopeful of getting an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accurate&lt;/span&gt; result (although I'll try not to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; it 100% if it is negative).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so sick of checking my body for any possible sign of pregnancy. I am not tired, my breasts are no more sore than usual at this time of the month (although I &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I have noticed an increase in size of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;montgomery&lt;/span&gt; glands - not that I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; know what they looked like before I started checking them!), no sickness (although i know it is way too early for that anyway).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The only thing giving me heart is Brenda's (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LifeCanBeaShit&lt;/span&gt;) comments on the blog of  'a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;brief&lt;/span&gt; history of you' saying that the first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;symptom&lt;/span&gt; for most people is a missed period.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Makes me feel better that I haven't got any damned symptoms yet!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Gggrrrrr&lt;/span&gt;! (slightly better anyway)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-6930901181616861450?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6930901181616861450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=6930901181616861450' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6930901181616861450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/6930901181616861450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/poas-time.html' title='POAS time!!'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-1148439524895061280</id><published>2007-03-28T12:59:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T00:36:09.419+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncertain times call for</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/RgnaW9XVn3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/RT_be7VLVDk/s1600-h/7.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046804945409777522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/RgnaW9XVn3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/RT_be7VLVDk/s320/7.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the magic eight ball!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately I didn't get the answer I wanted the first time so I kept doing it until I can't even remember the first answer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-1148439524895061280?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1148439524895061280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=1148439524895061280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1148439524895061280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/1148439524895061280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/deperate-times-call-for.html' title='Uncertain times call for'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/RgnaW9XVn3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/RT_be7VLVDk/s72-c/7.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-244428752914177548</id><published>2007-03-26T17:17:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T17:25:21.422+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare I dream...</title><content type='html'>... or will I just end up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was thinking about what to write on my post &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; afternoon, I was pretty sure it was going to be about how stressful it is waiting to see if all your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hard work&lt;/span&gt; in the last month has paid off and how much harder the 'waiting' part is that the 'trying' part. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have since (all this afternoon) been getting cramps in my stomach.  The only problem is that the cramps started when I was reading on the net about implantation pain.  So now I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt;: do I hope that they are implantation pains or not get my hopes up because they are probably psycho &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;semantic&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-244428752914177548?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/244428752914177548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=244428752914177548' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/244428752914177548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/244428752914177548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/dare-i-dream.html' title='Dare I dream...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-9009992866926518213</id><published>2007-03-23T15:08:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T15:14:47.043+11:00</updated><title type='text'>Bedroom Olympics: Round One</title><content type='html'>My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fertile&lt;/span&gt; time of the cycle has now come to an end - round one is finished.  Goodness know what the fruits of our labour will bring us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a tough week, before officially 'trying' I would have (and did) laughed at suggestions that ensuring my hubby and I have sex daily would be hard work - but it was.  It started quite fun, a little bit in the morning before work etc. but then he started to feel the pressure and needless to say performance plummeted.  Plus the only thing that would have really helped perk him up, so to speak, was off limits as I hear that saliva is really bad for sperm (can anyone confirm this for me?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday night I confided in my girlfriends about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt; and we went shopping: to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sexyland&lt;/span&gt;!  We decided on a nice 'couples' adult movie to hopefully get my husband (&amp; me!) in the right frame of mind to make babies.  It took a while, but by the end of my fertile period we were working well as a team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fingers crossed ladies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-9009992866926518213?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/9009992866926518213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=9009992866926518213' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/9009992866926518213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/9009992866926518213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/bedroom-olympics-round-one.html' title='Bedroom Olympics: Round One'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4073231564208740776.post-5997802879091508752</id><published>2007-03-20T18:01:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T18:16:33.464+11:00</updated><title type='text'>It's only the beggining...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;(and I've already gone and lost my mind)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;My husband and I got married two months ago in a beautiful (Australian) summer garden ceremony.  We then enjoyed a wonderful month long honeymoon in South East Asia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;We had lived together for 5 years before getting married and we knew we wanted children quite soon.  Our formal line was that I would stop taking the contraceptive pill halfway through the honeymoon and we would just see what happened. &lt;em&gt;'We'll let God decide when we will be gifted with a baby'&lt;/em&gt;.  I was so sure that we really believed this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Then, imagine my surprise when we got back from honeymoon and I was devastated by my period.  Deep down I guess I had thought it would just happen while we were on holidays and we could return home and start the 'happily ever after' part.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;It is now mid way through my next cycle and I would like to believe a lot of that naivety has been knocked out of me in the last few weeks.  I now know about having sex at certain times of my cycle, how to tell when I am ovulating and many more things that seem a lifetime away from glorious honeymoon-sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I am now force-feeding my husband with sex, checking my discharge and scanning fertility website every chance I get.  Recently I stumbled across this little blogging community of TTC women.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;It makes me wonder how this blog will progress...  Will I soon be proudly displaying my pregnancy countdown ticker followed by photos of our baby... or is this the beginning of an epic TTC journey like so many women are enduring all over the world?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess that &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; something only God knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4073231564208740776-5997802879091508752?l=transitiontofamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5997802879091508752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4073231564208740776&amp;postID=5997802879091508752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5997802879091508752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4073231564208740776/posts/default/5997802879091508752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transitiontofamily.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-only-beggining.html' title='It&apos;s only the beggining...'/><author><name>Mrs G</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10680246554337953182</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b-vd2Z6UUsg/SU8QHG0e3YI/AAAAAAAAAD0/iWRrcROnNMk/S220/of%3D50,480,360.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
