One week old

Rufus is one week old! (Well nine days actually but I didn't have time to do this on Friday). And it's been an amazing week. He's so good - we're wondering if it will last. But after eight months of sickness, making us wait and wait and then a marathon labour - perhaps he will be a good baby. So far he's sleeping for four or five hours in a stretch at night and Daddy is managing to get a good seven or eight hours sleep a night! We're hoping it'll last.

Even at two o'clock in the morning I still adore him and I can't stop looking at him. He's just so perfect.

He's Here

Just a quick note to say that Baby J arrived - 10 days late - and by emergency c-section no less! But he's here and he's gorgeous and perfect and worth all the trouble he's caused. I will of course bore you all with the full details at a later date. In the meantime here is Rufus Anthony Jones - born 18th June 2010 at 7.50pm weighing 8lb 4oz to a very proud Mummy and Daddy Jones.

D-Day + 8 - oh the faffing

So the attempted "sweep" didn't work - as was expected. So as instructed I called the hospital this morning to book my induction:

"Hello this is Rebecca Jones, I'd like to book an induction please."

"Err are you a midwife"

"No - but my midwife did a sweep yesterday and told me if it hadn't worked within 24hrs to call and book an induction."

"Right - hang on...."

Much muttering on the end of the phone. "I'm afraid you can't do that - the midwife has to call us."

So I call my midwife - who isn't in - the woman I leave a message with seems surprised that the midwife should have to make this call on my behalf, but says she'll get someone to call back as soon as possible.

Two hours later she calls to tell me that she's called the hosptial and that on Sunday I am to call the hospital myself at 4pm and if they have a bed free for me I can then be induced. Great.

I asked - again - if I can have another sweep on day 10 - my midwife refuses to do it and says I can try calling the hospital myself. But as we've already gathered - they only want to speak to midwives unless your baby is helpful enough to try and come on it's own.

So there we go - no hope of another sweep to kick start things naturally. And a possible induction on Sunday. Whooo hooo - this is all so much fun - anyone fancy coming for a run?

D-Day + 7

So I've had my sweep to try and get labour started - well the midwife attempted it - but, without going into too much detail, it seems that things didn't want to be swept, so it's unlikely to work. The next course of action is an induction on Sunday if the baby doesn't decide to come on it's own in the mean time - something the midwife also said looked unlikely! Grr.

Looking on the bright side at least the end is in sight, on Sunday things should be on their way. But I can't help but feel a bit disappointed, ok actually, make that a lot disappointed.

For me this isn't just about getting the baby out. Yes I want to meet my baby, and I want my body back - but I was really, really hoping for a natural, intervention free birth. If I'm induced I can't have that. Both me and the baby will have to be monitored, we're unlikely to be allowed on the midwife led unit with it's lovely rooms, bean bags and birthing pool.

This might not sound like a big deal from the outside (I think even Mr Jones struggles to grasp why I'm bothered about it), the end result is the same, of course. But after a pregnancy that has been so far removed from the way I'd imagined it, I was really hoping to have the birth I'd planned for. Or at least for it to start off the way I wanted it to (who knows if I'll be ultimately begging for an epidural and throwing my natal hypnotherapy cd and selection of essential oils across the room).

I suppose this is just another lesson to add to the big old long list of lessons I've had to learn in the last nine months - with pregnancy and babies you are so not in control it's unbelievable. You can't really plan for anything to be as you'd like it to be. Which for a control freak like me is a really uncomfortable experience.

Maybe after all this I will have an Angel Baby who sleeps through the night and does everything perfectly - or maybe not.

Please everyone cross your fingers and make a wish that Baby J decides to come out of his own accord before Sunday - just so I can at least try out the bean bags.

PS to cheer everyone up and to save it for posterity - here is a picture of Mr Jones' beard. I still think he's handsome.

I'm fine thanks.....

I never thought I'd get annoyed with people for asking me how I'm feeling - but I have to say that it's starting to drive me slightly up the wall. So to all of you lovely people who have sent me text messages and emails and the like in the past few days - thank you. Thank you very much for caring - but please - please, please, please, please, please forget about me for at least a week.

Please assume that all is well and that I am very fine unless I tell you otherwise. I promise to tell you the very minute I push that baby out (someone even suggested I Twitter my way through labour - but I draw the line at that!! No one wants to know the status of my cervix every three minutes - even me.)

It's very lovely knowing that so many people care, but when your entire life is based around waiting, having to deal with everyone else's expectations starts to get a bit much. I'm bored of talking about it - so do text, email or call about anything else. Whinge about your husband, tell me about your wedding plans, tell me what you ate for dinner last night or what your cat has been doing this morning - just don't ask me how I am or whether or not I've had the baby yet.

D-day + 6

Dear Baby Jones,

You are now six days overdue and are still showing no sign of coming out -humph - everyone is getting impatient - especially your Grannies,

Yesterday Miss Penny - your sister cat - thought she'd bring you a present to try and encourage you to appear. It was a live pigeon and I wasn't impressed. It had a broken wing so we think it must have flown into something first, because, bless her, she lacks the wileyness required to catch a pigeon. It was 5.45am and she bought it to me while I was lying on the sofa trying to coax myself back to sleep.

I skrieked for Daddy, but he was fast asleep so I had to haul myself up, climb over both sofas (I didn't want to walk on the floor in case the bird came at me - I don't like birds) and run up the stairs. If you've ever seen a nine months pregnant person try to run upstairs and climb over sofas you'll know that it was not pretty.

Daddy picked up the bird and put it outside and we then wrestled with Penny for a good hour to stop her going out and finishing it off. She's so naughty. She spent the rest of the day in disgrace.

Despite all of this excitement you still didn't appear. So we went to Homebase and bought paint for the shed. Then we tried to tempt you out with a MacDonald's, that didn't work either. So we came home and painted the shed cream - which looks lovely.

Today I have been to see the midwife and she is coming to the house tomorrow to perform a sweep in an attempt to kick start labour. Apparently it works in around 50 per cent of cases - so fingers crossed. If that fails then you'll be induced at the weekend - so by early next week at the very latest you should be here - hurrah. Granny Sue is very pleased about this because it means she can still go on holiday to Chicago - not that I think she should stay behind even if you do come much later.

D-day + 4

Dear Baby J,

You're still in there. It's 4.30am. I've been awake since 3. I'm bored of watching re-runs of Scrubs and Two and a Half Men.

Yesterday we went to the hospital. I had a headache that wouldn't shift and the midwives wanted to check for pre-eclamsia. We had to go to the delivery ward where a very attractive midwife called Sally gave us a thorough check up. She was far too young and good looking and I felt all fat and lumpy. Daddy was hoping she'd induce labour and get you out - but no such luck. The headache was just a headache. We were home by lunch.

A marathon trek around the grounds at Burghley cleared my head, but did little to encourage you out. I'm getting pretty sick of people giving me baby induction tips. None of them work. The other day a girl told me to drink hot chocolate because it bought on her first labour. She then went on to tell me that her second baby was induced. I was very tempted to suggest that like everything else perhaps the hot chocolate was just a "coincidence" and that her baby was ready to come out on its own - but I managed to be polite.

Daddy is growing a beard until you show signs of arriving. It's perhaps the most amusing beard in the world - it's all patchy and is full of gaps where the hair won't grow. He's beginning to look like a tramp.I'll take a picture of it today to show you what a state he looked before you were born.

I've started snoring! I woke myself up yesterday during an afternoon sofa snooze - I was mortified. Still it's payback for Daddy - whose snores have symphonic range and keep me awake frequently - I'm afraid you're going to have to learn to sleep through them.

Today we might paint the shed - we need to do something to pass the time.

xxx