33 weeks - longer and stronger.

Seven weeks to launch... well, actually a bit under now.

And everyone we bump into is asking the same thing...

"How long to go now?"

Seems neither of us can walk down a passageway at work without getting asked the same question. We're thinking of getting shirts printed with a countdown on the front/time gone on the back. (Mistress P's will have to be an empire line kinda thing...)

This past week saw Mistress P go to the docs again for the 33 week checkup. (Ok, 32 week and 6 days.) Heartrate of young Ruf was a steady ole 140bpm - a rate that would send dad-to-be off to the cardio ward/win him the Tour de France, but for an unborn its pretty much spot on the money. Good on ya son.

Length (pelvic bone to fundus of the uterus) was a little long. Seems at 33 weeks it should be 33 cm (the rule being about a cm per week gone), but young Ruf is pushing that out to 35 cm - the upper end of the normal range. Which could mean he might be a little early (take note those later entering the baby pool), or it could mean he's just a (slightly) big hoofer.

Given that he's still swimming around in there and not settling into any head-down lets-do-this-thing position yet, it may well be a case of the latter. Aside from that, everything is peachy, and the docs given Mistress P the go-ahead/medical certificate to work until 38 weeks so there'll no doubt be a fury of paper publishing and report writing for the next 5 weeks, one suspects. As for dad-to-be, he's had a chat to the powers-that-be and will be taking a month off from the time the baby arrives, and then playing it by ear from then on.

We're also hitting the hot weather time in Melbourne which now appears to be annoying the slightly bigger Mistress P just that little bit more. With a couple of 30-35 degree days just under our belt, and 3 more 35+ days in a row to come, it could get interesting. Lotsa cold showers, fans and avoiding the stuffiness of offices and trains. Of course the stresses of work, heat and planning for Ruf may well mean the release of more oxytocin and an increase in the "tend and befriend" female (as opposed to the more typical male "fight or flight") response to stress. And hence a desire for time with friends. As such, the weekend after next is so chock a block full of social activities we may well need another weekend (and a milo and good lie down) just to get over it. But its great to be loved. And those that love us are great.

PS: too many friends and we may well kick in its other properties! Seems this birth thing is just one big hormonal soup... without the crunchy crutons. Print this post