Tag Archives: Preggo Watch

Preggo Watch: The Labour Farce

So I’ve been in labour for a month now. Not medically speaking, obviously, but mentally, emotionally and sometimes – psychologically induced, of course – vaginally.

The worst thing about being unsure about your conception dates is that is makes you suspicious of your due date too, and so every single twinge that I’ve had for the past five weeks have been huge dramatic events, resulting in declarations of ‘We’re going early!’ ‘Are the bags in the car?’ ‘Seriously, why the fuck are the bags not in the car? We’re having this baby NOW!!!’.

(It should be noted that a pain in the lower back/butt area can often mean that one just needs to poo).

I have cancelled nights out, lunches, trips to the half-an-hour away shopping centre alone, for fear of getting caught with my pants down (like that’ll ever happen again), my waters breaking at the Benefit counter in Boots, or being unable to drive home and forced to have my baby in the carpark at Lidl.

Now that I am FIVE DAYS OVERDUE (morto), I am raging that I’ve spent so much time in a house-and-immediate-area-bound panic over nothing. My ‘labour mani/pedi’ that I insisted on having done weeks ago are completely chipped, the valeted car is manky, the Immac job that I did on my nethers is a distant memory and even if I wanted to…. I can’t fucking reach it now to give it another go anyway. The cookies that I baked? Eaten. That last house clean before Granny & Grandad come to mind Jacob when we go to the hospital? Needs to be re-done. The work that I finalized and parked ‘for a few weeks’? I’ve picked up again BECAUSE I’M SO FUCKING BORED!! Dearest Baby – Where Art Thou?!

On the up-side, I am making the most of having some quality time with Jacob which, deliciously, also includes joining him for his midday naps. I lovvvvve napping. Oh, and eating three ice pops every day. And sleeping in my nudies. And wondering if we’re having a boy or a girl. And looking forward to seeing who it is that we’ve created this time.

(FYI I’m holding out for a ginger girl….)

The GREAT thing about having a ‘Due Date Deadline’ is that is makes you get shit done. It hasn’t been a bad 41 weeks, all things considered….


[Pssst: Don’t Miss ‘Preggo Watch: Flight of the Bubble Gee’!!





Preggo Watch: The Labour Surrogacy Outreach Programme

You lot are great pals. You’re always there for me, clicking on my little links, being kind about the almost-nude preggo pics that I insist on posting online, humoring my articles such as ‘Is Smalltalk Really Necessary At The Gynecologists?‘ etc. I feel like your support knows no bounds…. doesn’t it?

If this is truly the case, then you might do me one last favour:  I am currently looking for someone amazing to take over this pregnancy until the baby arrives. You will need to know that there are either two OR five weeks left, depending on whether this is a Back-Of-The-Van-At-Electric-Picnic baby, or a Went-To-A-Charles-Bradley-Gig-Alone-Got-Hammered-Went-Home-And-Woke-Alan-Up-With-A-Few-Demands‘ baby. I’m sorry that I can’t be more specific, but really, my levels of irresponsibility with the taking of my contraceptive pill knows no bounds.

Your Number One duty as the new vessel for my baby will be to go through with the labour and birth on my behalf. Honestly, I can’t be arsed at this point because I am WAY too busy getting through the list of things that I’ve put on the longest of the long fingers. They include:

1. Finding the right pram (yes, seriously, I still don’t have one)

2. Deciding on what sling might work best for me, baby and my crockety back.

3. Buying a few nursing bras. Honestly, I don’t have even one.

4. Finishing off the paint work in our new house. The mixture of fumes and bending up and down repeatedly isn’t exactly working well alongside my preggo body so I’d like to get back to that please because the staircase that I started looks ridiculous.

5. Getting the car cleaned. I’ve genuinely only been putting this off since Xmas and I think the baby might prefer to come home in a car that doesn’t have melted ice cream stuck to every seat, soiled baby wipes shoved down god knows where or a humongous spider residing in the wing mirror.

6. Finish knitting the baby cardigan that I started for my nephew 4 months ago. (Although, to be fair, the kid might be better off without it. I might just go to the shops and buy one).

7. Put all the bills on standing order like a normal, grown up person, so that The ‘Has The Electricity Been Cut Off?!’ fear doesn’t hit me every time Alan simply turns off the lights in the landing when we go to bed at night.

8. Spending more time getting Jacob to stay in his EFFING BED AT NIGHT. Like, seriously, am I going to have to staple him down?!

9. Training Pearl to stop barking at the postman & black children as they walk past our house to school. Yes, her discrimination knows no bounds, although perhaps I should stop rewarding her with treats when she goes ballistic at the canvassers so that they move on to the next house.

10. Kegels. Kegels, kegels, kegels. I promise, if you take over this pregnancy, that I will do three rounds of kegels for you PER DAY. I just can’t be pregnant and do them at the same time, it really is too ridiculous an ask.

All interested parties, please contact Sharyn at info@raisingireland.com and I will arrange for you to take over my body at a time that is mutually convenient. Failing your interest in this position, there’s a bit of paint work in my kitchen with your name on it…. ;o)


‘This Body could Be Yours! No Fee, No Charge!!’

[Did you read the Irish Blog Awards Nominated Post: ‘Preggo Watch: Avoiding the Gaybours’? Read it HERE]

Preggo Watch: Won’t Someone Think Of The Vaginas?

I’ve been to an ante-natal refresher course this morning at the maternity hospital. As I previously attended the countless classes as an unassuming expectant first-time mother with Jacob, I got to attend this two-and-a-half hour reminder class, and this one alone. That’s precisely how I like my courses: concise, rolled in to one day or a weekend at a push and preferably, with free booze on offer.

(Note: if you attend ante-natal classes at a maternity hospital, they do not provide free booze, but there will be a plentiful supply of lukewarm water from the dispenser in the hallway so knock yourself out).

Most couples who were in attendance were in fine form, which was only enhanced by the hysterical midwife/closet comedian who presented the information to us. Ten minutes into the class, and I was literally crying with laughter at her fab approach. Great one liners such as ‘We’re not allowed to ask for top-ups at the canteen any more, we have to say ‘refills” will keep me going for weeks! She should write a book at the very least, have her own show at the very average and come to live with me at the very most. I LOVED HER.

I found the refresher course really helpful for reminding me of all the basics in terms of what will happen when The Babs decides that he/she wants out. The theory communicated today was that labour with a second child is far quicker than the first, but as ever, I’d be fairly reserved when it comes to generalizing these things. I’m of the opinion that every baby has their own unique journey into this world, and my vagina probably won’t behave exactly the same as the next lady’s. Truth be told, my vagina hasn’t behaved herself for years anyway.

There are two very important things I took from today:

1.    I must not fob the care of Jacob off on Ass Monkey, or any other family members (as planned, actually) when the baby arrives, but really try to spend lots of time reassuring him that he is still the Top Dawg. That plan is a go.

2.   I am so completely unprepared for this baby. Like, entirely. Assuming that baby doesn’t decide to come early or anything appalling like that, I have just over seven weeks to go to decorate a nursery, buy a pram and car seat, teeny tiny nappies, bottles, sterilizers, baby clothes, nipple cream, nursing bras, puke cloths, colic meds, bibs, soothers, clear out a space in the freezer for tea-tree sprayed fanny pads, apologize to my dentist for not wearing my retainer even though my teeth have moved about dramatically in my gob during the last seven months…..

When am I going to get it together, eh?!




[Did you miss ‘Preggo Watch: I Flashed The Intern’? Read it HERE



You may have noticed that my blog updates have been quiet of late, and well, that’s for two very good reasons.

1. I’m in the final stages of writing a funny book on parenting called ‘I Forgot To Take My Pill’ (and other excuses for getting pregnant)


2. I forgot to take my pill and am now ten weeks pregnant.

Not Model's Own ;o)

Not Model’s Own ;o)


YOU’RE WELCOME. Have a great weekend ;o)