Letters to bump: 12 weeks to go
Dear Squeaky B,
Welcome to the third trimester, baby. Two thirds of the way through. And yes, just in case you’re asking, it has dragged.
Weeks: 28 weeks
Stats: You’re measuring at 14.8 inches and weighing in at 1 kilogram. You’re getting heavier!
Vegetable size: Large Aubergine
The main thing that happened this week was our 28 week midwife appointment. As expected, she stole more pee and blood from me, we chatted about feeding, tests and where we’d like you to make your appearance, but in all honesty, I was most eager for the last part of the appointment. The part where we get to hear your heartbeat!
I’m not going to lie, Squeaky, you’re growing like a weed! And as you grow, my belly grows too. So it’s becoming a little bit of a struggle to sit down, get up and lie down. So I struggled onto the bed and let the midwife have a feel of you. According to her, you are already shifting into a good position; head down and very slightly to the right, peachy bum up at the top left of my bump, and wiggling toes on the upper right. Well, that explains why you’re absolutely battering the right side of me!
There’s still plenty of time to go, but please try and stay in that head down position, ok baby? Saves us any worries later down the line.
Then it was time for the doppler. My favourite part. You sounded incredibly healthy, and the midwife was really pleased. The word ‘perfect’ was thrown around again – cue me puffing up like a proud mama hen – and she said as long as everything continues to be “low risk” then there’s no reason why everything won’t go according to plan.
And I like a good plan.
For the first time ever at one of these appointments, she also whipped out a tape measure and declared you well within the normal range of size. In other words, cooking nicely.
Now Squeaky, there’s something in this world called a heatwave. We don’t get them very often because we are a country notoriously infamous for its grey and dreary weather. If ever the weather goes to one of the extremes, we grind to a halt. And with the added aubergine-sized weight on my front, I’ve started to grind to a halt too.
Long story short, Squeaky. I don’t like the heat and wish it would go away. The curtains are permanently shut and the fan has become my new best friend. You’re lucky you’re arriving in September.
We’ve been finding ways to keep cool. Your big brother and daddy have been splashing in the paddling pool, and I have consumed many an ice cream. Yep, just like last week.
Highlight of the week
On a very sunny Sunday, when temperatures were creeping towards 30 degrees much to my horror, we had a lovely visit from your grandparents all the way from the depths of Cheshire. They were not empty handed, of course.
In tow was an enormous bag of cute baby clothes, you’re spoiled rotten already, which included a Saints bib. Daddy reluctantly agreed to let you wear it only if it was underneath the PNE bib. Don’t worry, I’m sure daddy will explain when you’re older. There was also a box of baby essentials, and although there was a lot in there, I’m predicting it’ll keep you clean for about a week. Babies are notoriously messy, just FYI.
In true mum-style too, she had also dragged her “foot spa” with her and, after a slow walk (aka trudge for me) into town for a delicious burger, I was given a pedicure. Why, I hear you ask? Well, Squeaky, it’s because you are getting so big that I physically cannot reach my toes anymore.
It saves your daddy a job for a couple of weeks anyway.
See you next week.
Love, mummy and daddy xx