So I've had my last baby-free birthday. Hmmm.

All the comments in my card from work sounded like more threats ("Enjoy your last thin birthday...") I did great though, no-one bought me presents that were really presents for a baby, although Husband's Mum did give me our first baby things as well as a proper present (money towards the digital camera I'm saving up for) - some bibs with Roo from Winnie the Pooh on, and some sleepsuits. I find it really bizarre to picture something in these items, and furthermore picture me with something with these items. I put them in a box so I didn't have to look at them.

I have been reading about all the different exercises I am supposed to be doing. They basically involve squeezing in any conceivable (ha ha no pun intended) part of me that might possibly be relaxed, and not releasing it until a human being has come out of my body.

Good news though - I seem to have withstood the sickness, I knew I was stronger than the evil alien spawn. Birthday cake has helped enormously here.

Oh, the visit to Dr. Onymous went thusly:
Dr: "Did you bring a urine sample?"
Me: "No. Was I meant to?"
Dr: "Um. Didn't I ask you to?"
Me: "No."
Dr: "Oh well. Have a pot - give it to the midwife when you go and see her."
Me: "When's that?"
Dr: "Um. Didn't we arrange that?"

etc etc. Blind leading the blind.