Mental note: apparently, “Sucks to be you” is not an acceptable response after your mrs grumbles about how uncomfortable she is. You may feel I’m being harsh, and I probably am; but I’ve been massaging her feet for about fifteen minutes now, and they’re so large it’s akin to rubbing suncream into a child’s back.
Mind you, I can’t compare the disgusting wrinkledness of my overly-moisturised hands to her discomfort. She desperately wants the baby out now; she’s in almost constant pain with her SPD, and keeps getting the odd contraction, but it never leads to anything. She went for a professional reflexology massage the other day (which I don’t suppose was half as good as my haphazard thumb-rubbings) which can stimulate contractions and labour, and it won’t be long before she’s face-deep in a pineapple whilst going on a long walk.
You’ll be aware that some babies are born with a full head of hair, and at this stage it can be almost four centimetres long. I’m sure you – like me – are hoping that the hair is limited to his scalp area only, and that your baby doesn’t come out looking like the Wolf Man or the Bearded Lady; although you would get a few quid from the local media. Also, if your baby had corn rows or dreadlocks, that’d be cool. The vernix caseosa and lanugo is pretty much gone, swallowed by your baby, who weighs about six pounds and measures 14 inches, crown to rump (21 inches overall). It’s getting ready to come out, so if you haven’t already, get your hospital bag packed; sometime soon you’re going to get that text, phone call or nudge in the side from your mrs to say it’s all kicking off, and you don’t want to be left running around like a nutcase as her waters break all over your nice tile floor.