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September 10th 2009 21:42
Well, it’s happened, I’ve given birth, I’m now a mum. Well, if you want to be technical I was one for nine months but I think you might know what I mean. Tracy Junior popped out on the 28th July at 6.55am. The labour was arduous, slightly traumatic but worth it. Our boy is gorgeous, healthy and cheeky. For the sake of internet security, I think we’ll call him LJ.
Now my life has moved into a loving haze of verbs: washing, napping, crying, feeding, tidying, burping, dancing, rocking, wiping and singing. Sometimes I even combine verbs, keeping in touch with my multitasking, time-efficient personality. Sometimes I sing and wipe, other times I dance and wash. A lot of times I pray and rock. It all means something to our little chap.
I’ve worked out how to keep my film zest active and flowing: mums and bubs sessions. Fortunately I live close to three cinemas so my aim is to make fine use of my local attractions. The trick will be finding the time to write anything, seeing how it’s taken me 7 weeks to shave my legs. But we’ll see how we go; it’s a good plan anyhoo.
Yes, I’m still burbling away but this time I decided I should balance my grumblings and tell you the parts of the pregnancy ladder I will never forget:
Seeing those six positive urine tests winking at me – I didn’t believe the first 5.
My husband’s face when I told him – and his eyes.
Our inability to stop smiling - especially hard in the first trimester when you can’t tell anyone, we must’ve looked like a pair of chirpy nutters.
My parents’ faces and exclamations - who cares if the neighbours heard.
The first spouting of my belly – a physical verification it was actually happening.
The first movement – indescribable.
Those unexpected reminders – a kick, a turn, a tidal wave, a football match.
Watching my body doing what it needs to do – all those parts that I thought didn’t do that much, all having a function. Amazing.
My beautiful friends' unending kindness, wisdom, generosity and love – that often seemed to come at those quiet, most-needed patches.
Our family’s kind, generous and loving thoughts and actions – we know we’re fortunate to have them.
All of it.
I’ve been on Matted Leave for three weeks now and only have less than a fortnight to go and while pregnancy has been a brilliant experience, there are a few things I know I won’t miss:
Not being able to reach my food because of the massive boulder in front of me.
Having to pray for strength when I have to bend.
Praying for strength when I need to get back up.
Waiting for someone to offer to help me buckle up my shoes – the indignity of it all.
Nocturnal heartburn – you’d think sleep would fend this one off.
Nocturnal nosebleeds – not good for the pillowcases.
Nocturnal insomnia – yes, it’s a tautology but it’s so frustrating it needs the double emphasis.
Not being able to drink after 6pm as this tempts my toilet fate.
Continual, loud and hysterical reminders that I won’t be able to go to the cinema once the parcel of love arrives – we’ll see about that, haven’t they heard of Mums and Bubs sessions?
Watching various body parts droop into a different hemisphere - how will I get them back?
Dropping and spilling things...over and over..
But it’s definitely all worth it...I can't wait.
It’s been a whirlwind sort of couple of weeks, but it seems I’m back in my blog seat. It feels a little strange and slightly lumpy but I’m sure I’ll get used to it again. I really wasn’t sure what was going to happen and it’s been distressing. So distressing that sometimes I even used clichés to help me through the crisis. But I’m here now and I wanted to say a massive thanks to those bloggers who supported and helped me thorough the mess, both publically and behind the curtains. It meant a lot to me and kept me sane. Well, as sane as I’m ever going to be
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The irony is that you can do that here on Orble. But you can’t speak if you have a specific complaint. You get shifted to the Writers Forum...but does anyone see it there?
My blog is gone. Someone else has it. And all my work
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‘Possible Worlds’ the Canadian annual film festival’s closing film, ‘Everything is Fine’ personifies a morose, introspective and atmospheric account of troubled adolescence with a fine craft. I am (extremely) behind with my write-up (and my blog in general), but I would still like to thank Mathieu Ravier, the artistic director of the festival for the chance to see his film and to meet him in person
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Rourke is a bleached-blond heavyweight still wrestling twenty years past his prime who inhabits a dour, beige world. Apart from the momentary and intermittent camaraderie of his ring mates, Ram (Rourke) is essentially alone. Well-meaning but clearly life-damaged, living in a trailer in New Jersey, Ram struggles to survive doing wrestling gigs on the weekend and working in a supermarket through the week.
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The rolling around of the Possible Worlds festival each year reminds me how fast time plods along. Especially this year...I can’t believe it’s already time for the mass marketing frenzy of Christmas. Anyway, enough of my blabbering, I should get back to the facts.
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