So this gorgeous photograph [complete with my Converses in the background] was taken on 33 weeks through.
As a result of the bump's size, position, magnetism, belly-button shape, angle of pointiness, movement times, type of movement and general wriggliness...the following has been assumed [and therefore becomes gospel] by various people:
My workmates: "She's tiny. It's a girl."
Her workmates: "It's low. You'll be premature."
My Mum: "Trust me, it's a girl and it'll be early."
My brothers: "She's pregnant."
Nonna: "It's a boy. Because I said so."
Anyone else Italian: "Boy. Definitely."
Ally: "It moves a lot and won't let me get comfortable."
Me: "There's definitely a baby in there and it will come out when it's ready whether it's a boy or a girl."
Following our recent antenatal classes, a few other things have been established:
1) I don't ever want to be re-born a woman.
2) A circle with 10cm diameter is incomprehensibly large.
3) Just the word "Epidural" makes me shiver.
4) Needles. Bad.
5) Blood. Expected, but bad.
6) Swearing. Expected, but not to be taken personally.
7) As a male, your opinion isn't valid.
8) If you offer your opinion as a male, see 6) and take it personally.
9) Water. Good.
10) Baby. Ugly.
That's pretty much all I've got that's been going on. Car seat was ordered a fortnight ago, so should turn up soon [complete with pictures on here].
That's all for now.
With love, as always,
Luke xx
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