Pre "D-Day" explosions and contractions

Only 5 more days to go before D-Day and I am forcing myself to relax by distracting myself with house chores. Not entirely sure whether this is a good idea or not, but sitting around just thinking about the Big Day isn't my idea of preparing for Oli's coming.

Men are probably the worst people to ask about signs and symptoms related to birthing.
A photographer friend of mine, also based in Shanghai, told me a very interesting story of how his French wife thought that she had contractions, so they rushed to the hospital late in the evening. Upon arrival at the hospital, the staff gave her a quick check-up, and determined that she was just having an active imagination (rather than being in active labor). She suffered throughout the entire evening having labor contractions, until she couldn't bear the pain any longer and they returned to their local hospital, at which they promptly reported that she has been dilated 10 cm , and within the next hour, was able to give birth naturally to their first son without any medication or further intervention. After this rather interesting story, I asked my (male) friend what the contractions were like, as he sounded like he knew the story and all its details like the back of his hand (as he well should, being the lucky father of their cute son).

Me: ( Looking worried): "What were the contractions like?" 
Friend: (Having barely a moment to catch his breath after the marathon storytelling): "Contractions...well you know how they are like... Contractions!"
Me: (Trying to be polite and trying best to refocus on the emotions of the ordeal they have gone through a year ago): "Ohhh! Yes, of course! I get it! I see..." 

(Awkward silence ensued)

I've been told that contractions feel like "you want to poo". Just the other evening, while watching old reruns of Harry Potter with my husband and mom, I felt this "urge to poo", and a slight wave of panic ensued, sending a ripple effect across the other 2 audience members of the now- not- so interesting HP rerun movie. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "OMG, I think I'm feeling contractions...!"
Husband: "What is it, how do you feel?" ( sounding as if he studied medicine for many years)
Mom: "It's supposed to feel like you want to poo, well do you??"
Me: " I think so... !"
A few moments later...

Ppprrrrrttttt.........! ( a naturally occurring biological gas explosion heard until the next room)

Me: "Oh, it's gone. It was just Oli's gas passing through me..."

Oli is such a convenient excuse :p

My multi-functional belly bump

"Hun, you gotta stop using your stomach as a table."

My husband's words woke me up to my habit of well, doing exactly that. I have been using my belly bump as my dining table, reading table,  nail clippings' temporary repository, an arm rest ... you name it! I especially find it really convenient to place books and food on top. Might as well make my belly bump useful.

Recently, my belly makes for a rather rudimentary but functional entertainment center (changing sides while lying down and seeing how our baby shifts inside, then guessing which part of his body might be jutting out based on the changing protrusions). It mostly feels like there is an alien moving inside of me... sometimes I imagine it to be a baby dinosaur. (You know, like in the movie Jurassic Park. My belly looks exactly like the dinosaur eggs there now.) This kept me entertained for at least a minute before I looked for other, shall we say, modern entertainment options.

"The mysterious nether regions"

What used to be easily visible looks as if it has mysteriously disappeared... I'm referring to the entire area beyond my bump. Suddenly, I need help for even the most basic tasks..such as putting on socks, strapping on my sandals, washing my feet, clipping my toenails, the list goes on. Honestly, I don't even know what color of underwear I have on right now. I had a brief glimpse when I put them on this morning, but that's about it, and my short term memory isn't exactly stellar now with baby Oli eating my brain's battery cells. But no matter, I have a long dressing mirror to help me with that...mirrors are such an amazing invention.

"Three's a crowd"

Last year, we had the pleasure of visiting my aunt Isabel and uncle Alex in Cebu , Philippines. They are both doctors, my aunt is a pediatrician and uncle a renowned kidney and internal organs surgeon from Pennsylvania, currently gone back home to retire. They took us to see a crocodile farm/ zoo nearby, run by another one of my uncle's relatives in Cebu. We had an encounter with the biggest crocodile in the Philippines, said to be over 50 years old and measuring 15 feet in length, said to be the biggest croc in the Philippines and 2nd biggest in the world. More info can be found here: http://www.philstar.com/cebu-lifestyle/2015/02/21/1426064/crocolandia. Here's a photo of the amphibian celebrity:

All this talk about Lapu-lapu has a purpose. My husband has long joked since then that I have him living inside my tummy, as I am often hungry and have a voracious appetite. My stomach growls with a thunderous sound, one that reminds him of the giant croc's growl. Hence, whenever my stomach makes its usual loud sounds, or I eat heartily, we readily attest it to the imaginary croc's presence inside my belly.

Lately, the doctors have found a myoma (non-cancerous cyst) inside me, a phenomenon that affects 60% of women all over the world, nothing to be alarmed about, my doctors reassured me. We have come to accept that it is living side by side with Oli, and to make the situation more amusing we imagine he is using it for his soccer ball practices! Hence, the strong kicks around where it is located.

With Lapu-lapu, the soccer ball, and Oli co-existing in my belly, I wonder if three's a crowd? They certainly do seem to have become good friends during the long 9-month journey. When my husband told me one time, I got to use my abs and give it a work out every now and then, I replied, "What?! You don't think my belly is working hard enough???" Between housing three residents, nourishing and housing our little one, and adding extra functionalities as a table and entertainment center, you'd think my belly might be overworked, don't you?

I get a kick out of you

That moment when...

Your baby starts kicking 10 kicks a minute continuously every minute for the next 5 minutes after you've just painstakingly counted his kicks for 2 hours (that just ended 5 minutes ago and yielded a mere 14 kicks/flutters/ wave/ some sports action)

I have been wanting to dedicate this song to baby O for awhile, you might have heard of it before...

I dedicate the song "I get a kick out of you" by Ol' blue eyes Frank Sinatra to you, baby O! Hope you like it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSrHvNr8QQQ

Oh, yes, baby O, I get a kick out of you.