Today has been the least pleasant day so far in an otherwise rather nice pregnancy. I haven't stopped feeling ill all day - I'm not sure if it's indigestion, gas, too much chocolate, or the as-yet-un-felt "morning sickness", or possibly a bit of all of them. I've been extremely tired, as I didn't sleep last night due to feeling ill (see above) and being kicked. And then tonight (during childbirth education classes at the hospital) I had another of my little hot-flush blurred-vision episodes.

I'm thinking of cutting back my hours at work, if the boss will let me, and considering stopping work entirely earlier than originally anticipated, but I just don't know. I feel a bit guilty; work is so busy right now, and I'm the only full-time staff member who can do my job properly. It makes it quite difficult when my immediate boss is telling me to look after my body and my baby and take time off, while my own conscience says that I need to be at work. I guess I'll figure it out in time... but if I still feel like this tomorrow I'm taking the day off.

Anzac Day is yet another occasion on which I feel at odds with everybody. It's such a big deal here, commemorating our fallen soldiers and stuff. I understand intellectually that a bunch of guys went to some shitty places and experienced some shitty things, and loads of them got killed, and that if they hadn't the world would now be a very different place. But honestly, emotionally, I don't really care. It all happened long before I was born, in places I've never been, to people I never knew. All I feel is slightly uncomfortable and guilty at not feeling anything more. I feel like the media and my fellow Australians are trying to manipulate me to care, but I don't understand their purpose in doing so. I feel like a complete outsider, an alien, almost a criminal. Especially here in Canberra, where it's practically blasphemy not to go to the Dawn Service. I slept until 10, so there. Fuck it.

For those of you I don't have on Facebook, and those of you who haven't gotten around to looking yet, here is my beautiful baby Elspeth during her 3D ultrasound on Saturday:

Rant time.

I took the 980 bus to work today, as is usual when I work on Saturdays at the University of Canberra (my second job). Fine. I got there, and the woman who usually co-ordinates everything was away, leaving some other people in her place. They didn't know I was coming, so they didn't have anything ready for me. So they mucked about getting that done, and that was a minor irritation.

Then I had to go home. I caught the 980 bus again, which worked fine last time and got me home safely. But this time, for reasons unknown to me, the 980 became the 932 when it passed through the city, and thus took a different route. By the time I realised we weren't going to take the right turnoff, we were past it and in unknown territory. So I asked the bus driver the best way to get to Kingston from there. He told me to stay on that bus until we got to Woden, and then take the 938. But when we got to Woden, the 938 had just left, so he told me to take the 900 into the city and then the 938 going back the other way to Kingston.
In short, it took me over two hours to get home, when it should take 45 minutes, and I visited nearly every god damned suburb in this god forsaken town on the way.

Nothing is easy here. Nothing just works, nothing is logical or simple or intuitive. We have found this time and again, in all sorts of situations. This town doesn't make sense, and I want to go home.

Today was the 28 week midwife visit, primarily to have my injection of Anti-D.

Here I am this morning:


And today's details are as follows:

Fundal height: 28cm (the size of the uterus, used to assess foetal growth and development) - this is perfect for this stage of pregnancy.
Foetal heart rate: 148 - also normal.
Edinburgh Depression Scale: 9 - apparently anything over 12 requires referral to Mental Health, so I'm still good!
Glucose Load: 6.3 - I have no idea what this actually measures, or what units that 6.3 should be expressed in. But apparently it's within the normal range and I don't have gestational diabetes.

So everything is going well, which is good to know. I figure, anyway, that as long as I can still feel Elspeth kicking away like crazy and there's no abdominal cramping or bleeding, she'll be right!

I see in the news today that a Melbourne train driver has attacked a passenger after the passenger approached him to complain about a cancelled train. My first thought is, the passenger should have used proper channels to make a complaint; it very likely has nothing to do with the driver concerned. In a way I don't blame the driver for snapping: working for Connex recently must have made him very unpopular, subject to countless criticisms and the butt of a hundred jokes. The company has not been faring well lately and it is not his fault, yet, as the person seen representing the company, he cops the blame from thousands of commuters each day. Don't get me wrong, I don't condone violence or the attack itself. All I'm saying is that I can understand the urge to hit back - literally - at the complainant!

I don't usually blog from work. I have more important things to do, like work. Goodness knows there's no shortage of it. But today, nothing is going right. It's just so frustrating, I need this little "time out" to rant and rave!! Things have disappeared, things haven't been done correctly, things have been put in the wrong places, and things are pissing me off! I feel like I've spent half my day so far searching for things that aren't where they should be, or, apparently, anywhere at all. I thought today was going to be so productive and awesome, I had it all planned out... instead, I have two half-finished things on my desk, waiting on (hopefully) some missing things to turn up, or new copies to be provided. So not only did I not catch up at all, I've actually fallen further behind than I was!