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I know things have been a little quiet on the blog front this last, and for good reason, there's been very little to report and Alfie has stayed resolutely put.

Last week was hard going for me, moving in one fell swoop (as I have) from an 11 hour day to having nothing better to do than contemplate my naval … such as it still it. I've coped with it in the age old tradition, and cleaned the homestead, frequently. It has to be the only time in my life I'm almost glad for Harry's constant shedding.

Even that has gotten dull now though, and this week I have been forced to contemplate something entirely different – what happens next.

Yesterday morning I had my reflexologist issue Alfie an eviction notice which really seemed to give him pause for thought. He usually goes mad during my sessions but yesterday he could only muster the energy to rearrange himself a little. Things are looking good though I'm told.

Yesterday afternoon I had a midwife appointment and again things were pretty much as expected, and Alfie is now 1/5th engaged which for the uninitiated is now l much of his head is still obvious above the pelvis. In this case, not a lot. Add to that the Braxton Hicks and the increased period pain type cramps and everything seems to be heading in the right direction, if a little slowly.

The spanner in the works however is that all of this comes a little late, and the sleeping beast they call The System has begun to stir despite my attempts to creep unnoticed across the room. As predicted there have been Discussions on inductions and sweeps and in fact I have an appointment booked for 3rd November to be induced.

Before anyone gets too excited at that news (you know who you are!!) rest assured that I won't be getting induced on the 3rd November. What I have spent the whole morning trying to explain to various well meaning but confused Lister Hospital midwives is that while I am happy to go in to be monitored and have scans, I will not be having an induction just because I have reached some arbitrary date.

The reason it has been rendered a morning long exercise is not because of the lovely midwives I have spoken to, it is because of the tangle of process and procedures that exists in my local area. I'm not sure if I have gone into this before but basically, we live in Bedfordshire, and therefore our community midwife team are the Bedford Midwives. The closest (in terms of time) hospital though is the Lister, which is in Hertfordshire, and they have their own systems and rules. I don't think I need say more had I?

Keith is finding it particularly hard to cope with the intricacies of these often conflicting systems which I can totally understand, were it not for the fact that my mind is taken up with thoughts of what to do next, and when, I would be as ready to start writing a strongly worded letter making sarcastic comments about job creation schemes.

It's a weird feeling, Alfie's not here yet and already the responsibility of what to do next weighs heavily on us. I think we're lucky that we live in an age where we have such ready access to information about our choices, and also that Keith and I both have the confidence in our gut instincts to see out what often feels like a game of "chicken".

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