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Eloise's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 12/2/99 -------------------- 11/28/99 11/24/99 11/20/99 11/17/99 11/10/99 11/3/99 10/26/99 10/20/99 10/13/99 10/6/99 10/4/99 9/28/99 9/15/99 9/9/99 9/2/99 8/26/99 8/19/99 8/5/99 7/30/99 7/16/99 7/6/99 5/14/99 5/14/99 5/7/99 4/27/99 4/15/99 4/8/99 3/25/99 3/20/99 3/19/99 3/18/99 3/12/99 3/9/99 3/4/99 -------------------- Eloise's Introduction

November 24, 1999

Two days till E.D.D. (Estimated Date of Delivery).

Yes, I’m still here. Nothing has happened…yet. And I think it’s starting to get to me.

The calls have started – you know, the phone calls from family members and friends checking that I’m still here, still big as a bun, that the baby hasn’t made an early appearance. I guess people are just eager to know if anything’s happening but you’d think they’d trust that we’d let them know when something does!!

I don’t feel impatient yet, but I think it might be showing in unexpected ways. The other night I turned to my husband in bed and said, “Are you sure we want a baby? Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” He laughed and did his best to reassure me, after all, there’s no turning back now. But I’m full of doubts. I’m starting to doubt how much I really want a baby. What if I regret it? What if I don’t take to it? What if it is hideously ugly and I can’t love it? What if we have clashing personalities and we don’t get on?

And I’m starting to doubt the name we’ve chosen. After all, the child will have to live with it for the REST OF THEIR LIFE – suddenly it seems like a huge responsibility and I’m doubting our decision. What if it doesn’t suit the child when s/he grows up? What if they grow up hating it? What if they grow up getting teased because of it? What if, in five years time, I’m a different kind of person and I no longer like the name and regret calling the poor child by it?

ARGHH! As you can see, it’s all getting a bit much for me at the minute. Maybe the waiting is taking its toll. And I’m not sleeping very well at the moment. I wake up at least two to three times a night, usually in a bit of a fright because my nasal passages are blocked up and I wake up feeling claustrophobic, like I can’t breathe. Not to mention the pressure to go to the toilet every hour or two. It really feels like I need to go, urgently, and then I sit on the toilet and only the tiniest dribble of liquid comes out. It’s damn silly, really. And I often wake up with strange pains in my stomach – I can never tell if they’re hunger pains or reflux pains, so I don’t know whether to eat or take a Mylanta and usually end up doing both and completely confusing my digestive system.

Oh, and I’ve finally packed my hospital bag. What a depressing job. As soon as I did it I desperately wanted to unpack it again. For some reason it really got to me and then when I was telling hubby about it later that evening, I realised it was because everything in the bag is really depressing – half the case is taken up by maternity pads, nursing pads, nursing bras, boring nighties and pajamas, slippers, nappies. Urghh. I realised in a swift instant that I was worried about feeling ugly and unglamorous after the birth and that I wanted my suitcase to be full of things to cheer me up – you know, expensive new body lotions and perfume, a new outfit that isn’t maternity-wear and makes me look glamorous yet is easy to breastfeed in (if such a thing exists), and a beautiful new journal to write my birth and hospital experience in. You know, pretty things. Feminine things. So hubby’s said we’ll go out this weekend and try and chose some new clothes and bits’n’pieces to cheer me up. He’s such a lovely man.

Well, he worked in Canberra yesterday and arrived home safe and sound. Thanks god, I was a little bit worried about going into labour without him being here. No chance now. He finishes work and study on Friday (he has two exams this week), and then he’s free. Free to be with me and the baby for nine long, luxurious weeks. I’m quite excited about it. He's excited, too, except he’s a little bit too busy to start celebrating. We’ll have big celebrations Friday night. And I’ve got my fingers crossed that bubby hangs in a bit longer and we get to spend some quality alone time together next week. Yum. Yum.

On that happy note I think I’d better sign off. Besides, the banana cake I just baked (don’t get excited, it was a packet cake mix, I’m not super-woman) needs icing and eating. Take care out there, and we’ll see what the next week brings.

All the best,

Eloise