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Today is a good day because today I am 34 weeks. That means in just 3 short weeks Alfie will be fully cooked. 

Do I feel ready to become a mum yet? 

Well after this week I mostly just feel ready for a holiday.

There's so much to tell, so we'll start with the thing most likely to get commented on, the state of my health. 

We went to see the midwife on Monday and in all honesty I was prepped for a fight. I was so sure I was going to get tyre ticking and teeth sucking I have to admit I did go in there with a bit of a teenage tilt to my chin. I was pleasantly surprised though, truly. We had a discussion about my bloods, I mean an actual discussion, and I saw the sense of taking those stupid iron tablets for a bit longer, mainly because there was never a hint that my not taking them was going to be an issue. I was asked what I wanted to do about birthing if Alfie resists all attempts to move him round, and there was no shrieking, no calling of men in white coats when I made it clear that I wouldn't be opting for a C section. I left feeling really positive, which was such a lovely feeling after the seemingly never-ending doom and gloom of my consultants.

For all my complaining, those hospital visits do give me a sense of continuity with the past. One of the blogs I follow posted the following account by a lady I've mentioned on here before, Mary Cronk, about something she describes as getting iron in her soul. It's something I've often read about before, about finding your voice when faced with impending parenthood. These two links speak so eloquently about how it feels to have that moment, I just wanted to share them here:

One entirely positive piece of news is that we made it to our first NCT session – just. I managed to doze off on the sofa and Keith was busy polishing some bit of rusty metal or other so it was a bit of a rush to get there on time.

Intimidating too, the course is being held at a house nearby which frankly would put a lot of football stadia to shame. And most of the people there seemed infeasibly polished, which was a bit of a contrast to my bed hair and Keith's hastily scrubbed greasiness.

The course itself was really excellent though, and in contrast to a lot of comments I've seen about how biased the NCT is, we really struggled to get our leader to express a preference for any one way of doing anything, she was so keen on giving us the pros and cons of every argument. It was really useful for me, and for Keith too, who asked more questions and expressed more opinions than I have managed to illicit to date.

It was a little odd hearing him speak so vehemently about different aspects of birth, odd because I didn't actually realise he has listened to any of my inane ranting, and also because he usually stays so quiet when I do, I had no clue he actually agreed with me, let alone that he agreed quite so vehemently. The image of him waving a chocolate biscuit expressively in the air while expounding the benefits of breast feeding is something I think everyone in that room will carry with them for a long time.

Oh, and we're the only home birthers too, just in case we needed any more help growing that extra head.

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