Running out of room little one?

Teplet is very quiet at the moment, but every now and then he/she gives me a reassuring nudge - right in the ribs!

As baby runs out of room towards the end of the pregnancy, movements are reduced, but every now and then I can feel a little foot press up against my ribs - an attempt by baby to try and stretch his/her little legs.

And Braxton Hicks contractions are most bizarre! I waddled around the shops yesterday in a vain attempt to convince myself that retail therapy is a wonderful and satisfying outdoor pursuit. It isn't!

I had already driven twenty miles to visit my in-laws and was informed on the way there that my mother-in-law had bronchitis. I pulled over and called the midwife - "what's the score?" I asked her. " No problem for baby, but we can't risk you getting ill at this stage can we?"

A fact I kind of figured out for myself, but if in doubt, call the midwife. So, as I was already half way across Hertfordshire, I thought I should stop for a break before heading back home. I can do this, I thought, no problem. Pick two shops at the most, preferrably with seats and shimmy around catching the admiring glances of people who are either thinking "ooh poor love she's the size of a house" or "a pregnant woman! what a pure delight to the eyes".

Sure enough, while paying for some little purchases in one store, the cashier couldn't help himself. "How long now then?". I told him three weeks and the reality hit me again! "My wife is due in eight weeks" he told me and then proceeded to share with me the details of her ordeal the day before and how she had stomach pains and protein in her urine and how she was being checked for gestational diabetes and when her next antenatal appointment was. Now don't get me wrong, it's always nice to chat to people and on this occasion I could empathise with the chap telling me about his poor pregnant wife. All of a sudden though, the strongest Braxton Hicks contraction ever took over my body! I smiled and nodded politely at the cashier through gritted teeth and held my tummy. Its cool, relax, nothing to worry about, it will pass in seconds.

"Anyway, must dash" I trilled. "Oh yes, good luck" he replied. "You too" I mumbled over my shoulder as I waddled as quickly as I could out of that place. I saw some seats in the shoe department - heaven!!!!! I plopped myself down and breathed a sigh of sweet relief. Ok, next stop, back to the car and home, sweet beautiful home!

I made it to the car and sped off leaving a trail of smoke and tyre marks from the wheel spins. Oh alright, it wasn't as dramatic as that. But I did shoot over the speed bumps a bit hastily and jolted my bladder, intestines and probably poor Teplet in the process.

Back on the motorway - yikes! Traffic!!!! No, no, no! It was one of those occasions where every lane slows down and you cruise along at twenty miles an hour. Then just as you've finished cursing and rubbing your temples, you're back up to speed with no sign of any roadworks or accidents, which is a good thing, but what was the hold up then?

Throughout the whole time, I was having these Braxton Hicks contractions. I seriously thought at one point that things were kicking off, but I knew deep down this was not the case and so didn't panic too much. Perhaps I'm still over-doing it! Perhaps I shouldn't be driving! Perhaps my body is saying "enough is enough - will you just STOP?"

So, here I am today, resting! On the advice of all those who tell me to rest and e-mail me to say "are you resting" and call to check I'm resting - I can honestly say, hand on heart, that I'm resting! The Braxton Hicks are quite intense today too, so I've decided to monitor their frequency and see how it goes. Watch this space!