I am 5 and a half months pregnant, scans predict a healthy boy, although scans also predict a cesarian section. Some think i should be relieved as this will mean no pushing.. no pushing equalling no gross, hideous pain and all my bits left in tact, but part of me wanted to experience natural labour, a very small part of me.
We'll see, if you are in tune with baby, you can apparently will him to move and drag his placenta with him.
Anyway point is its about 4am and i can't sleep, i had a lovely day visiting the girls i used to work with and eating! but during the night i think the stillness makes baby feel unloved and un-rocked so he kicks and rolls around until i get up and move and then he seems to go quiet again..
My brother also made me watch a documentary on knife crime tonight which upset me, even more now that i am pregnant because of the added responsibility of bringing a boy into the world.
Having a girl would not necessarily be any easier but one imagined lots of pink and tea parties and dressing-up boxes, no doubt despite not having his Daddy's approval i shall be doing the same with my son but there is the added consideration that i might have to teach him about the more distasteful sides of being a red blooded male in this world, maybe Daddy will have the major role in teaching him this but maybe not, maybe its me that will have to think of the best way i can make him feel confident about his decisions..
My father was tragically not around to teach my brothers how to deal with their angst and raging hormones in their teens, to tell them when to hit back and when to run, when to distrust your friends and when to go it alone, i wish for my son to always have his father but i know that life isn't always how you want it to be.
I remember as a teenager being cornered in Camden by some ridiculous short arse'd kid called Leicester, and his gang who called me 'paki' and pushed his dirty hands in my face (i think his general ignorant term for anyone that wasn't fair skinned and blue eyed or dark skinned with brown eyes,) our back yard was not so far away and my very big German Shepherd dog being alerted to my grief did all he could to scale the garden wall.
This in turn alerted my Dad, probably at home unusually relaxing, as he was possibly the most hard working man i have ever met, and next thing i knew was Major(the Dog) and Dad were chasing these ignorant little street urchins away.. never to really bother me again, except for when i hit my teens and wore alot of make up and my skirts got ultra mini and my heels stiletto, then they bothered me just because they looked at me in a longing way... eurrrgggghhh ' in your dreams' (said in my head)
I will always remember my Dad being there then, my Mum would have probably done the same, my Nan on numerous occasions chased kids with her broom, she even hit a kid once that had a plaster covered over one eye because he had those dodgy eyes, the kind where you never quite knew which one was looking at you, he pushed me off my bike and stole my sweetshop money (i know, i am always the victim).
Anyway point is Dad and Nan and Mum were there to deal with the situation and make me feel safe, the fact that Dad ran out dressed only in boxer shorts, with a fag in his mouth, a rolled newspaper, and the tv remote will always be a fond memory. I might have just described a yob, but he was far from that, my Dad was an educated, fit, and good- looking man, and was never out of Levis, white t shirts and shirts, brogues and blazers and was uber cool! but like i said he was having a day of relaxation!
I was lucky to have great adults around me that cared, that bought me up to care, that thought education was paramount and to never look down but up and strive to be the best. i am sure that given love and confidence and opportunity, it could help resolve alot of the 'knife culture' amongst kids now and i can only hope things improve for my little boy and that i will always be there for him just in case.
I guess thats it now, i guess i will have to just come to terms with my role as a worrying mother but there is always the option of moving to a place that is statistically safer, like Tunisia, where babys Daddy is from, there they immediately imprison you for carrying a knife and cut your hand of for thieving and i think they still have the death penalty (ok i might be making some of this up and really i am not one for death row) but it might just make you think twice about slipping a blade in your sock or down the side of your cap?!?!
Ok enough a whole other area that i can't debate alone. my one man state, of mind.
Might try and sleep, night night....
