I'm back...

...although probably not for long. I've neglected both my blogs for a while and am acutely aware that when I started the other one (at www.jamesfernie.com) that I said I wouldn't be one of those people who starts their blog full of ideas and enthusiasm only to see it fall into disrepair once the initial inspiration ebbs away.

After all, I was a seasoned blogger with over two years of content under my belt and felt that I could make such a statement with a hand on heart commitment. That was before a fairly drawn out process which firstly involved selling a business and secondly involved finding a new job and ultimately involved doing a new job. Turns out working for other people means you can't spend an hour or two creating literary genius as and when you feel like it. Who knew?

Anyway, with my feet, albethey freelance, now firmly under the desk, I'm happy to pick up where I left off. So where was that then...? Oh yes, Clare's up the duff.

So we've had the 20 week scan and this time there doesn't appear to be anything remotely clefty. Of course you never know about the palate until baby is born but the lip is definitely all there. We've had a 3D scan (on the free) as all the new equipment at Royal Surrey includes this mode as standard now...we got much clearer pictures this time too than when we visited the kind man with the bow tie down in Kent.

The scan itself was a nerve racking experience though. Again we had a foreign lady look after us and Clare's initial question of 'was everything o.k with my blood' got the following response:

'I'll talk about that at the end.'

I'd like to think that this lady knew about the level of anxiety we suffered last time and that it was just her foreignness that made her put her response that way. What she meant was that she couldn't give us all the information until the measurements taken during the scan had all been recorded and then, in conjunction with the other info, she could give us the prognosis. As it was, I was sat there, with hidden, crossed fingers thinking every conceivable bad thought possible. Clare had AIDS, the baby would be born a hippo, that kind of thing.

Anyway, all was o.k and the relief was palpable. I think Clare was more relaxed than me but we were both so, so relieved that it was a continued case of 'so far, so good'. It's weird but I found myself thinking that if I could bargain at this stage and take a cleft now rather than risk anything else which might go wrong, I would. That's something that the majority of parents who've sailed through a regular pregnancy will never understand. I don't mean to be flippant; of course all expectant parents go through the wringer and have a lot of concerns and worries, but until you've been through it knowing that something won't be quite right, you'll never know what the second time round feels like. In the back of my mind, I'm resigned to the fact that something still could go wrong and I'm o.k with that. Alright, perhaps not o.k with it, but I'm prepared for it and it doesn't completely freak me out. If something happens, it happens and we'll deal with it, whatever 'it' may be.

So all being well, come April-ish, Jake will have a sibling and the family will be even more complete. I'm dreading the sleep thing again but am also really excited. I'm looking forward to a different feeling on that first night. I remember bringing Jake home like it was yesterday. He and I slept in the living room while Clare caught up on some well deserved sleep upstairs. I had no idea what I was doing but the pair of got through the night o.k and the rest is history. A lot has happened since and the next installment in our story is due this year.

Can't wait!