Not blogged much because not much has happened to be honest. It's still kicking around, particularly seemed to enjoy Bohemian Rhapsody the other night. I must remember to get hold of some Linguaphone CDs for it (well, why not - they'll either work, in which case it'll be able to learn languages really easily, or they won't, in which case nothing lost. A little voice at the back of my head is suggesting that I have completely lost it, but I didn't get where I am today by listening to the voice of reason).

I have managed to book one of these though http://www.a4dbaby.com/index.htm. We're going on Christmas Eve Eve, so we'll get to see it and find out what flavour it is right before Christmas, which is great. A bit extravagant maybe, but my hospital has a policy of not telling you the sex of the spawn and it costs nearly a ton to have a private sexing scan done anyway, so we thought we might as well get some freaky pictures at the same time.

The husband and I were debating whether or not to tell anyone else what sort it is once we know, but I have had threats of physical violence from Mrs. Baker and the people I work with if I don't tell them. Also, as he pointed out, people can buy us more stuff if they know what it is. I like his mercenary leanings there.

I'm booked in for my 2nd midwife check next week. God, booking that was a job in itself. I rang my local surgery to make the appointment, and got some snotty receptionist (wow, a snotty doctor's receptionist? Who'd have expected that?) who told me that I had to go on a Tuesday afternoon. When I said OK, I'd have to call back because I needed to check with work (it'd mean closing the office I'm working in for the afternoon) she got even more snotty. So I asked if I could go any other day. No, I couldn't. Could I go to a different clinic on a different day? No.
You gotta love their sense of customer service.

Sorry this isn't very upbeat, but I've been feeling a bit down. I haven't had a holiday this year, apart from a week spent putting up a new garden shed, and it sometimes feels like I'm the only person in this place doing any actual work. Also have had some really disagreeable customers in, whom I seem to have taken an instant dislike to, where otherwise I might have just ignored them. I've kind of bought into this spoiling-pregnant-wimmin lark and I'm feeling a bit cheated.

It's an active little bugger, I have to say. It let me know when Mozart had finished (last night's chosen CD being played through my belly to it) by kicking me lustily in the bladder. It also responded to the husband blowing raspberries on me, by kicking (or punching) hard enough that I could feel it with my hand, verrrry freaky!

It's complete open season on my size now, I can hear people discussing me when I'm not actually in the room and I'm being treated like a Good Luck Buddha with the amount of belly-rubbing that seems to be happening. I am honestly not that big but you'd think I was an abnormal elephantine circus show exhibit. Although I have also been told that I am "blooming" (yet another thing people think they have to tell pregnant wimmin - does this mean I was a haggard-looking shell before? I haven't noticed anything different), and that my boobs are fab. Heheh.

Evidence that I am Losing It:

1. I am forgetting Everything
(a) I was meant to take a sound card back to PC World the other night. We got in the car, knowing that we had only enough petrol to get to Sainsburys so we could fill up and go there afterwards because it's next door. Half-way there the husband asked if I had my card with me. I thought he meant my Nectar card so I said "Yes," in a stroppy tone because I've always got it with me and he never has his so why would he be questioning me. He replied "the sound card?" and I went quiet. We had to go all the way there, fill up with petrol, and then come home again, and it's still sitting on my dining room table. I couldn't think of any way to blame the husband for that one either.
(b) The same night, I was going round to get my PC back off poor Mr B, and I had some lettuce for Vic the Bunny. I left it out purposely to remind me to take it. I left it on the side. Poor Vic the Bunny went lettuce-less and the lettuce had to go in the bin.
(c) Countless things at work... but I'm not admitting to those, even on here :)

2. I was trying to describe to the husband what my cat's fur looked like when I stroked her the wrong way, and the phrase "guinea piggy" came out. I then spent 10 minutes in hysterics at just how funny it sounded while the husband looked on in alarmed bafflement.

3. I can't get organised at all. I know exactly what I'm supposed to be doing and when, and yet somehow it whizzes past me in a blur and I've no idea how I didn't manage to do it. Although to be fair, this may have been happening before I was knocked up. But now I have an excuse.

4. I am in a better mood with everyone. This, as anyone who knows me knows, is definitely not like me. I'm a lot more tolerant of all the stupid fuckwits and their moronic ramblings that I come across every day. It has absolutely got to be hormones, because normally I would rip people's arms off and beat their heads in with them just to shut them up. As for the belly-rubbers, a swift punch in the face used to do the trick. Now I'm stood there like a broken-in horse being petted. But I'm like one of those horses where, yes, it might have been broken in, but it's looking askance at you and... just thinking... about how nice it would have been to sink its teeth into your arm.

5. I seem to be crying at soppy things more than usual - It's Me or the Dog set me off a couple of weeks ago, and the Royle Family the other night. I admit to blubbing at some things, but I'm not your standard weeping woman (I got glared at in the cinema for laughing at the end of Titanic) so this is also definitely spawn-related. The husband is endlessly amused by it.

Am having to face some serious clothing issues. I am down to 1 work suit that still fits, no jeans, hardly any blouses do up over my ever-increasing boobs, and skirts that I think "Oh yeah this'll be fine if I hoik it right up under my boobs" (grandad underpants style) until I get half way through the day and the waistband is cutting off my oxygen supply. The annoying thing is, everything still fits until I try and do the waist up. I told the husband that I am going to start a trend where it is socially acceptable for pregnant wimmin to go around with their flies completely undone. He told me I wasn't.

I did buy some stuff to wear 'when I got bigger' but it only amounted to 1 pair of trousers, a couple of stretchy wrap dresses and a couple of jumpers. I thought that would be all I'd need, perhaps for a month at the end of it all. Ha! How naive. I am going to need more. My sister in law donated a stretchy denim skirt which was a joy to put on - I could actually breathe whilst wearing it. I shall now be wearing it for the next 4 months, so it'll be able to stand up and walk out on its own by the end.

Apparently my actual physical body ends about 3 inches inside of where it may look like it ends, as anyone and everyone are happily patting my stomach, rubbing my belly and talking to my waist. Whether I want them to or not. This is an odd thing - people seem to think that it's not me they're molesting, it's "The Baby" they're chatting away to. O...K... Also, it's fine for everyone to comment on how fat I am, but it's wrong for me to say "wow, your arse has got really massive!" in return. Alright, alright, I won't do that again then.

I have been making the Husband talk to the evil alien spawn through my belly as one book said they can hear male voices better - it did some squirming so we'll assume they aren't lying. On the subject of squirming: I am not into it. It's really bloody uncomfortable at times, which is something no-one tells you. The sister-in-law of the skirt gleefully told me "Wait til it gets bigger - it really hurts when they kick you in the lungs or the bladder or the ribs." She also asked me if - wait for it - my belly button had popped out yet. Holy mother of God, this is one nightmare after another.

We were talking about Names the other day, the Husband and I. He is deliberately confusing things by saying that he likes names that a month ago he adamantly refused to consider, and then denying that he ever said he would never name a child of his that, and telling me it must be my hormones. I am going to start recording conversations with him.

On a more worrying note, my Sky+ box is dying. What on earth will we do if it doesn't work over Christmas? I am going to reset it today, and if that doesn't work, do some open-heart surgery on it and put a new hard disc in, wish me luck.
http://www.xtendedplay.co.uk/sky-hard-disk-upgrade-kit-250gb-ce-drive-p-47.html?osCsid=8ccc3ce1acb0d7d9f666e4a45bacf290

So yeah, 20 week scan then. I must say, it's starting to feel like I have been up the duff for ages but 20 weeks is only just over half way. How rubbish.

We went down there, and I was bursting for the loo again, but this time for a poo. I was really worried that they would be able to see it all on the screen, and I'm not sure they didn't and just didn't want to say anything. I couldn't go beforehand because I was meant to have a reasonably full bladder, not as much as last time but a couple of drinks' worth, and I knew if I went to the loo I'd wee as well. Ahem. Anyway...

More cold blue jelly, and 2 sonographers this time, 1 doing the doing and 1 writing stuff down. She said "Still just one in there," which made me wonder if they often have it where it's multiplied since the last time they looked? It was much bigger - not enough room for headspins any more. I was right about the moving around, because I could actually see it happening now and it felt exactly the same. It was trying to punch and kick me this time. Thank you, you evil little scrote.

There was a lot of measuring going on, I thought she was measuring its head for ages but apparently she'd switched half way through to measuring its body. Oops - from my angle it all looked the same. 2 arms and 2 legs, the right length, with requisite fingers and toes so all good there. The husband did say that a 3rd arm would have been quite useful, but, alas, it was not to be. Then she did a very freaky thing and had a look inside its heart. We could see the chambers and the valves pulsating away.

She then wanted to measure its spine but it was lying on its back being awkward, so I was told to go for a wee (?) While I was there I parked my breakfast as well, then had a jump up and down and did a few hulas. I went back in, they had another look and the sonographer said "Oh, what a co-operative child" as it'd turned right over and she could take all the measurements of its spine that she needed. Well, you'd move too if that was going past your head wouldn't you?

Right at the end I was shown some charts and told that it was right in the middle of Normal for everything, which they like, and that it has a rather fat belly. Hmmm. It is now about 6 inches long from head to bum - "Kitten size" as the husband said. I got another pic, not as clear this time as it wouldn't stay still enough. Oh and I have to go back for another scan at 34 weeks as apparently my placenta is a bit low, but it'll probably move by then. Move? They move? Urgh.

Bit sad today as I just registered the births and deaths of twins (that's what I do for a job), who only made it to 22 weeks, and only lived for 10 minutes. Makes me feel a bit uneasy, being at 20 weeks. The mum and dad were very calm and brave about it all. Also, I think I just registered the husband's auntie's death (we don't have a lot to do with that side of the fambly). It is a Very Weird Day today.