Time's dragging

24 weeks today, and time's ticking on...

Junior has really started to kck recently, and I had the privilege to feel my first kick yesterday. It had all the hallmarks of an unerringly accurate toe-poke, so clearly my son/daughter will be a footballing superstar. It's just a matter of where their loyalties will lie, and that, I can tell you will be over the red side of Stanley Park, Liverpool 4.

No new scans to report - the next one is at 33 weeks, so 63 days time. It seems ages away, but then again, this IS the time that the pregnancy seems to go on and on and on, and MTB seems to have been pregnant forever. I just would love to meet my protege now.

All appears well anyway, after a quiet few days with son/daughter being a bit less active, causing MTB to panic eversoslightly. Somersaults, kicks and other such acrobatics are well underway again, with Bubs being way over a foot long now, and with a 44% survival chance if born today.

We're cooking for friends tonight, and it got me thinking about all the things MTB will want when she can de-restrict her diet again.

Rare steak
Runny eggs
Pouilly Fume
Port
Nightnurse
Lemsip
Beer

Not all at once though... I hope.

We're battling through potential names now, even though we thought we had it sorted - so much time on our hands, and we're struggling with middle names, syllables, keeping family names going... I think Number 1 suits, and it's so homogenic.