17 weeks, 4 days/15 weeks, 3 days*

So I’m now in the second trimester.  I’m supposed to be glowing.  R says she can see it, but I just don’t.  The only thing I can see glowing is my sebaceous glands.  Of course this just means that I don’t stop breaking out.

I’ve had three scans now.  The first only told us that the baby was doing ok.  The second gave us a due date of 20 January but it was the third that was the best.

As you can see, the view on the second scan was none too great.  There was none of the egg yolk stuff, but it was still quite difficult to make out what was what (aside from a bloody great big head – must take after its father!).

The second one gave us a much better view.  So much better that I can already determine the kid has it’s father’s nose and pouty lips.  A bit like the boy did on his scans.  The baby also wanted to make me cry because it kept on waving at us.  That little hand just wouldn’t stop moving.  It made quite a difference from the boy’s scans where he was content to lie there and be photographed.

The results of the scanning left us happy.  The chances of down syndrome are at a level not even worth taking note of, and all seems to be well.

On Friday we booked in with the midwife, a lovely lady called J.  The team I’ve been assigned to seems quite small, so there’s a chance I’ll get to meet at least some of them before I pop the kid out.  We did the boring bits like going over medical history which, with our families, can tend to be a bit lengthy.  I got information on nutrition and home birth and how they run the team.

And we went over the boy’s birth.  It was the first time anyone in a professional capacity had referred to the experience as a trauma.  Looking back now, it’s hard to tell whether I think J is right.  I’ve lived with what happened for so long now that it just is what it is.  Because of this, J hooked me up with parentcraft classes (particularly for the classes that cover the birthing process) on the proviso that we tell no-one that this is our second child.

I also mentioned the problems I’m having with backache and was recommended to try out the ante-natal physiotherapy classes.  Seeing as an osteopath changing my desk set-up hasn’t made a difference, I’m willing to give it a try.

Then I was back at the hospital again on Monday evening.  I worried that I hadn’t left enough time to get there from work.  Normally I leave two hours early so I have a chance to pick up the car from home and drive over with the husband.  As I’d told him not to bother this time round, I only left an hour and a half to get there.  Sod’s law that I turned up with 40 minutes to wait.  At least by that time the waiting room was relatively quiet and I’d got a good book with me.

I got to pee in a cup (oh joy!) and have my arm squeezed into oblivion by a blood pressure cuff because J hadn’t got the equipment with her the previous Friday.  All was well.

We also talked about due dates.  At both the second and third scans, the boy was measuring more than two weeks smaller than the dates suggested.  We were prepared for him to be late.  Very late.  Of course it stands to reason that he came out 11 days before that due date.  I asked about the chances of this happening again, but unfortunately didn’t really receive an answer other than a baby is typically due between the 37th and 42nd weeks.  This of course leaves a due date of anywhere between 12 December and 16 January.  But, J was quick to remind me that these days (I guess it was a medical age ago that the boy was born) they go by the date from the scan.  That means anywhere between 27 December and 31 January.  My theory is that seeing as the baby gained an extra day’s worth of length for each of the weeks between the two scans and could quite possibly carry on doing so, my actual due date should be 21 December.

Anyone betting on right about Christmas dinner?

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