like a rollercoaster but without the thrills

so life recently has been up down up down up down non stop, actually more yo-yo than rollercoaster, and the down bits are getting a bit boring to say the least.

2 weeks ago jambeans was really ill again, only about a week after i had to pick her up from nursery the last time. so i stayed at home two days to look after her which was sort of ok but i found it quite stressful emotionally cos the bub is all floppy-feverish one minute and we're plying her with calpol, and all grumpy-yelpy-moany the next and mum can't do anything to console her. and all the time, nagging worry worry worry at the back of my mind that she shouldn't fall this hard each time she gets ill, and it always goes to her chest and she gets all wheezy and it's oh do worrying that she's still so vulnerable in her chest, and worries about lung damage as a result of being premature or cos of adenovirus resurface, but nothing we can do while she's still so little and GP just said to ride the virus out, which we did, and she did get better after a couple of days.

then i was at home with her on thursday as usual, and had a day off to look after her on friday as the bf was in paris with auntie leon and uncle mary, watching the england rugby team get mullered by south africa, and he was away saturday too so jambeans and i were on our todd again, and when he came home on sunday was ill, probly cos he ate too much steak done bleu and tartare (and mary had andouillette which is effing impressive tho' i'm guessing she didn't know exactly what she let herself in for) so i looked after her on sunday too and scheeezus was i effing knackered and fed up at the end of it. (seriously - i have no idea how full time mums cope day in day out. give me work any day - sooooo much easier)

so come monday morning i was in a right grump at having had such a shitty week, and missing work and having to catch up yadda yadda and i went along to my cervical scan... and found out we're having a boy.

and everything went in slo mo and all i could think was "we're having a boy!!! wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!" even while the probe-thingy was up my unmentionable and the doctor was guddling around.

It's a boy it's a boy it's a boy hurraaaaahhhhhh (we were hoping for a boy) and i was sooooooooooo excited and happy i forgot all about the shitty week and literally sobbed with happiness after the appointment all the way to the tube and some. cervix still looking fine btw - nice and long, and clamped shut, the way we like it.

so we're trundling along, then jambeans is ill again on saturday when i am home alone again as bf is off teaching at a course, but she bounces back again on sunday, so we have a short while to recover, then the bf is working like a bastud this week and is late late late home, and life all feels a bit ho hum hundrum peppered with stress and sleepiness.

still - pampering for mummy day in a few weeks time, plus week off in november.

big update

Sunday something or other September

so...last Monday I finally told everyone at work I was pregnant, and that was cool, and it actually makes it much easier to be at work and feel a bit sick or tired or down in the dumps because everyone understands. And I saw Ely on Thursday and told her too, and bf told Auntie Leon and Uncle Mary, so word is getting out and its all good, and everyone is being very nice to me.

Jambeans walking is coming on a treat - she chooses to walk rather than crawl now, and she's getting quite confident. And last weekend we bought her a pair of proper shoes (flexible soles, but still proper shoes) so I want to record for posterity that she is a 4F, and the proud owner of a pair of bright pink Start Rite 'Tots'. And we have no idea really whether that is big or not, but we're both assuming it's massive given that we both have humungous feet too.

I had to pick her up from nursery on Wednesday as her breath was short and she had a nasty temperature, and we were worried we would have to take her to hospital like we did last time, but she recovered a treat by Thursday morning and was all smiles and runny nose again. Relief.

I hit rock bottom with the sickness and feeling depressed about it on Wednesday, and was ready to just walk out and leave and never come back, but something or other has been looking favourably on me, as since last Thursday I haven't been sick at all. I've been taking the cyclizine every evening so go into a coma at about 9pm and not even an earthquake could rouse me, but it's worth it not to be sick.

I went to Ely's on Thursday and had a lovely day with the kids just scrumbling in the garden, and she fed me the first decent meal I have had for weeks on end, so I'm feeling curiously grateful to her, like somehow it was her, or that meal, or her house that rescued me from the living hell I was in, and I've also been eating grapes and oranges by the bucketload, and even managed some pineapple and it all tastes like nectar and stays down. Hurrah.

And I had a scan last Monday to measure my cervix, and according to my fab consultant it's not abnormally long, or open. I had a good squizz at the screen too and it looks nice and shut tight if you ask me, not that I really have a professional opinion, so I feel relieved about that, and my instinct is telling me that the bub (codename "Felix") has a really good chance of not being premature. And I have another scan in a weeks' time just to check nothing has changed. But the best bit was seeing the Felix, who did a somersault for me, and I felt a huge pang of excitement.

And the effing expensive souped-up wide boy Subaru Imprezza of a computer the bf bought over the internet arrived a few weeks ago, and had to be sent back because it was crap (but only after he spent 15 hours, till about 2am tinkering with it first) and it arrived again on Friday, and had to be sent back again, because it was still crap. And the bf is treating it all like a big disaster, and i tried to be sympathetic and understanding, but have to confess I simply don't understand why he is, well, mourning, about it, and can be quite inconsolable, especially when he deals with sick and often dying kids every day and can be perfectly rational about that. But he reminded me I can be melodramatic about loading the dishwasher correctly and he's always patient, so I felt bad about snapping at him and have tried to be a good girlfried since.

And we were told at work that we all have to move to Watford. Which is a bit crap but I'm up the duff so my choices are limited and I might as make the most of what I've got.