28 weeks 1 day

Chewie seems to be head down most of the time now, and the thuds I'm feeling lower in my belly must I think actually be punches. New midwife Alison (Marie has left to go and work in the new midwife led unit at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford so I might see her again in 12 weeks or so...) did a thorough prod about yesterday at my 28 week appointment and managed to locate a bum, a spine and a head, though I was unable to pick out anything quite as identifiable as that via my own tentative explorations later. This is good news as currently it means that Chewie is not breech therefore I don't need to plan a C-section or get induced, though apparently there is still plenty of time for him or her to turn around a few more times before getting into final position. Hiccups are a regular-ish occurrence now too which is quite a weird sensation but sweet all the same!

The iron tablets have so far not given me any nasty symptoms after taking them for a week, which is a bonus, and I can see a faint increase in my energy levels from a week or 2 ago. Something no amount of iron will fix is my rather ungainly waddling which happens whenever I heave myself out of what uncomfortable sitting position I've been in for a while - once I've got going I'm fine but those first few steps are a bit weebly. God knows what I'll be like in another month or so.

Also of note this week was a wobbly experience of another kind. On Monday morning I set off for work in the new Golf (Ali had left at the weekend for a business trip to the US for a week so I'm home alone). At 6.40am in the pitch dark it's never the best time to be on the road but generally there is little traffic at that time of day and I get onto a quiet train and into a quiet office before 8am. But this was not to be on Monday, as I slowed down at the roundabout to get onto the A34. As there was a car coming to my right I stopped and then felt an almighty great thwack jolt me forward, luckily *not* into the path of the oncoming traffic. As I was stationary when it happened there was no whiplash and the seatbelt didn't even lock, but I was in a bit of shock. So I got out of the car, even remembering to put the hazard lights on (impressed?), and a really nice guy who had stopped to act as witness asked me if I was OK. All I could come up with was a petulant, 'well NO, not really!!' and then burst into tears. The poor man whose car had rammed into the back of me must have panicked a bit when he saw the heavily pregnant woman in floods of tears after an accident that was clearly his fault. Mind you his little Nissan Micra was in a much worse state than the Golf, as the radiator was completely buggered and spouting water all over the road. As my car was driveable, after we swapped details I went off to Didcot as usual, mildly miffed that I'd missed my early train but not really thinking much more than that. However, all day at work I was distinctly wobbly so as soon as I got any sympathy from anyone I was close to breaking down again. Physically me and Chewie were absolutely fine but I was just an emotional wreck all day.

Anyway to cut the saga short, the other driver's insurance company have been fantastically efficient, phoning me by 9am the same morning to confirm my car would be repaired, arranging the garage to pick it up and organising a hire car as a replacement until the Golf's fixed. Now somewhat alarmingly I've got a brand new 58 registration Vauxhall Vectra which is bloody enormous but actually not that bad to drive, though it took me a while to work out how to put it into reverse gear... and a nice chat with the midwife yesterday put my mind at rest. She asked me if I'd had any contractions or bleeding or signs of my waters breaking, to which I almost retorted "if I had, do you think I'd be sitting here talking to you now? No, I would be in the bloody HOSPITAL, PANICKING, woman." Anyway, all is well, Ali is back at the weekend and Chewie has continued to kick and punch and hiccup away with no sense of restraint. Bless.