On Reading...

I am a prolific reader. I always have been. I remember so clearly the day I got my teenage library card and was allowed to take 12 books from the library at once. It was such an amazing day- if you want to read an brilliant description of this particular feeling, I highly recommend reading Caitlin Moran's first chapter of 'How to be a Woman.'

But pregnancy has ground this to a halt. I have only managed to read a few books in the last 4 months- mostly Agatha Christies (I've updated the list- I am more than half way there!!) and a couple of Inspector Rebus books by Ian Rankin. It's been a pretty poor show. I don't know if I just don't have the concentration, or don't want to sit down for that long or what, but reading has become too much of a challenge. I even got a stack of books from the library that I returned before I read more than a chapter. I WILL read Hilary Mantel's 'Wolf Hall'- the first 10 pages were so beautifully written, I just didn't manage to read any more.

I am determined to read 10 books before the baby arrives (since I know reading will be out of the window for a while...) so I am looking for recommendations. If you were only going to read 10 books in the next 5 months, what would they be? All suggestions gratefully received!

Life as it stands

I've not written in forever and ever for a number of reasons- firstly the cat chewed quite a few of the keys off my laptop, and whilst husband managed to reattach them, they've never been quite the same. Typing is a lot harder work than it used to be. I'm not sure if a new laptop is worth the investment since I intend on never, ever writing another essay again in my life, but I'm not sure that a tablet (I plan on getting a wee kindle fire to get me through late night breastfeeding) is the best thing for blogging on- anyone out there do it?

Secondly, I have been far too busy actually living life to hang around at the computer. Last weekend I went to the Getty Centre and a Dodgers game, went shopping, spent hours and hours in our swimming pool and cooked yummy food. This all seemed so completely out of the realms of possibility a few short months ago so I am embracing life as much as I can. Husband and I are trying to enjoy life as a trio (I'm including the cat, this is pretty sad, I'm aware) as much as we can. The next few weeks are totally full of amazing trips and activities. 

Tomorrow is Independence Day, which as Brits, we have no strong feelings about at all- it's sort of a non-event. It is a bonus day off for husband though, even if I personally find days off in the middle of the week really weird (America LOVES to have a random day off on a Thursday. So much more civilised to always have Mondays off like the UK.) The current plan is a long lie, pancakes, Wimbledon on TV then the parade on Main St in Santa Monica. We'll probably spend some time at the beach before heading home to find some fireworks. We'll eat chilli and nachos and avocados and try and find a virgin margarita somewhere. 

All the food focus comes from 2 main places- the most important one being that I am starving all the time. Yesterday I munched my way though a philly cheese steak the size of my head and ate all the potatoes with it without pausing for breath. My husband just looked on, aghast. This kind of behaviour is being actively encouraged by my rather wonderful doctor since I am struggling a little to gain weight. In a healthy pregnancy, 'they' want you to gain 25-30 lbs, having gained about 10lb by week 22 (ish). At week 18, I have managed to gain 2lb. I'm still 10lb off my pre-pregnancy weight. My doctor isn't concerned, I had horrible hyperemesis (her, very validating words) and lost 10% of my body weight- it's quite a lot. She thinks it will take me a bit longer to get on track. Until them, I have free reign to eat what I want. I had been focusing on replacing junk food with fruit and vegetables since all the baby books/blogs/pamphlets all focus on good nutrition, but now I have to eat junk food AND fruit and vegetables. It's going pretty well so far...

All this being said, the baby appears to be absolutely fine. I am getting pretty big- the bump is constantly growing, I think it gets biggest Sunday to Tuesday (husband thought I was insane, then came home from work last night and asked if it had got bigger since lunchtime, although that was probably the cheese steak...) and then spends the rest of the week recovering in its new home before spurting again the next weekend. I had a doctor appointment on Monday, which confirmed everything is growing right on track and it still has a perfect heartbeat of 155. Every time we get news like this I am ecstatic, I think after a miscarriage you really don't believe all these nice, boring moments will happen to you, that somehow everything will be a little harder than normal. We are just plodding along. It's marvellous. 

Tuesday is our anatomy scan, or BOY OR GIRL SCAN!!!! to give it the title is has in my head. I am beyond giddy at the prospect of seeing the wriggler again and finally giving it a decent pronoun. It's been nice to wait a little but I definitely could not go to the scan without finding out. I have so much admiration for those who have the patience and perseverance to not know. Especially the amazing friend who didn't find out because her husband wanted a surprise. I am, I'm sorry to say, not that nice to my husband. We are really struggling with names. We have a couple of potential boy names, and absolutely zero hope at ever finding a girl name. Honestly, I cannot think of anything I like enough to say fifty times a day for the rest of my life. That's before we add 'both of us have to like it' to the mix. I will write another whole post (eventually) on our fairly broad baby naming rules, but so far nowt is matching up on the girl side. On Tuesday I will either be jubilant that I don't have to think of girl names any more or issuing a desperate plea for help. The lady in the maternity clothes shop last night told me she's certain it's a boy, since I'm sitting really low. She is basically an expert, right?

Since it's the summer, and normal people take summer holidays, that's our plan for the next few weeks. Next Friday we are packing up the car and heading to Yosemite with some of husband's colleagues (including his lovely boss and his wife, whom I adore) for a weekend of wandering amongst giant trees, attempting to avoid being eaten by bears and staving off Hantavirus, which is kind of the reason we're going on the trip in the first place (husband's boss had booked the cabins for him and his friends, who all then cancelled when the area was shut for part of the year due to the discovery of Hantavirus in THOSE EXACT cabins. They've since knocked them down and built new ones. He thought it'd be ok and invited his work minions instead. We agreed since it's probably FINE now.) I'm so excited to visit that part of California. I can hardly wait.

We'll be back from Yosemite for 3 whole days before packing up the car again (let's be honest, it probably won't get unpacked to begin with...) and driving to Las Vegas. If you ever want a good laugh, I recommend telling your obstetrician that you are planning on driving through Death Valley mere days after it very nearly broke the record for being the hottest place on earth, ever. She looked like her head might explode. It was hilarious. Thankfully she then laughed since I am the same person who went on a transatlantic flight with Hyperemesis and gave us some really good tips on travelling safely and where to get the good cocktails.

This Vegas trip is particularly exciting since my bestie Jen and our awesome friend Bri are GETTING MARRIED. Now only a Scot would plan an outdoor wedding in the desert outside Las Vegas in July, but we are totally stoked to be part of it. A small group of our friends are making the journey out too, and it's the only time I would like to hang up my bump on the back of the bathroom door and head out for some serious partying. It's gutting that I won't be pounding back free cocktails and champagne and wine and feeling rough as a badger's arse in the blistering heat with my friends. But I get to be there. And that is the most important bit. 

Lord knows what I will wear, (apart from this, obviously) since I look (and feel) like I've swallowed a honeydew and I don't want to spend a fortune on a nice dress I will only wear once, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. After exploring the west coast a bit, our awesome friends then come to LA to hang out for 5 days. I am also super excited about this, if a little nervous the cat will bite their toes as they sleep, a new and interesting habit she's developed during this heatwave we've just had. Suggestions on a postcard for THAT one, please. Bump pictures to follow (ie once I've found the golden mix of good hair/bump day, good outfit and someone around who can actually take the picture for me.) as well as sparkling write-ups of these epic and awesome events to come. Probably. If I can fix the R key.

The Big Smoke

First of all, I just want to say that I got the impression I may have caused a bit of offence with my last post, and I'm sorry. I certainly was not trying to be flippant about miscarriage, or worse genetic conditions that can appear during the NT scan. I know this can be an incredibly awful experience for people and I'm really sorry if you thought I was making light of it.

Secondly, this is not a baby blog, really, so I have no idea how often it'll come up. I think it will come up more than I think in a 'and I couldn't drink wine...' way, which consumes rather a lot of my waking hours, but I am a lot less sure of the actual nitty gritty. With that in mind- London.

When I booked my trip back to Scotland, I decided to factor in a 3 day jaunt to London. I've only been to London for fun once before, on a trip with my dad. We took the overnight bus down and the overnight bus back (since money was pretty tight in those days) and we went to the science museum and to see An Inspector Calls (my choice, it was brilliant.) It was an awesome trip, I think I was about 15. Since then, trips have mainly involved visas and work.

Generally, I hate London. It is busy, narrow, people are rude and it just smells and looks and feels kind of... dirty. When I compare it to my beloved Edinburgh I laugh with derision. Yes it's bigger and a bit cooler and you can get Ethiopian food at 4am if you so wish, but it has nothing to compare to the majesty of Edinburgh Castle, sitting atop it's rocky throne. There's no sense of quaint, cosy history: it sprawls.

So I decided to visit again, catch up with the friends who live there and do some visiting of my own. This plan was valiantly made pre-hyperemesis, and once it had struck I regretted the whole endeavour. I cut back the days I was going to be there, cancelled on a few friends and prayed it would be ok. It mostly was. I got from Heathrow to Crouch End in such an easy journey I was genuinely confused, as were my local friends. I had Bangers and Mash (sausages, mashed potato and gravy, American friends) in a gorgeous pub in Crouch End with my friend, stayed up past midnight and caught up and giggled and genuinely loved her (and her very nice partner's) company. The next day, I awoke jetlag free and headed out to the city to do some proper exploring,

The V&A, with school children eating ham sandwiches

I really wanted to see the fashion exhibition at the Victoria and Albert museum. I'm so glad I went, the exhibition was awesome, but the tearooms were something else. I ate a delicious scone and pot of decaf tea surrounded by Victorian opulence  watching the old ladies and families and European tourists and art students pass by me. It was incredible. I wandered round the museum and watched the school groups, drawing busts of long-dead aristocracy, tongues poking out in concentration. The older teenagers, wearing ever loosening school uniforms of kilts and blazers and ties and so many layers, were sketching nudes, groups of girls pointing and giggling as they went. It was so quintessentially British, I felt like I was watching a sketch show on Channel 4 from the 1990s. But it was very much real life. A real life I understood, felt part of. 

Row of busts being drawn by school kids, V&A

After the V & A, I headed on the Science Museum. There was a brilliant exhibition on Alan Turing, the codebreaker. I wandered round, learning things, for a while before heading to Westminster to meet my University friend/ ex-flatmate, a fancy civil servant who somehow managed to finish work early to hang out with me. We headed along the Southbank, another area I'd never been to before. We had coffee and caught up a bit before making our way back to his house to have dinner with his lovely wife at the house they had just bought. It was so lovely. 

Winston Churchill looking out over Big Ben

The next day was pretty grim. I got up really early to head to King's Cross (platform 9 3/4 really does exist!) I got the Tube with my friend, but the morning sickness kicked in pretty badly at Kensington station. I had to leap off the train with my enormous suitcase, threatening to vomit of the shoes of the fancy business men refusing to move. After vomiting into an aeroplane sick bag on the platform, I had to wait 45 minutes  until I was well enough to board the train again, head between my knees. In true London fashion, no one gave me a second look. I finally arrived at King's Cross to board my Edinburgh train feeling rotten, and well-reminded of all the reasons I hate London. It's just not for me. 

I really loved having the day to myself though. I was so aware that my time for wandering around a city and spending time in museums is limited- I had to enjoy my opportunity whilst I had it.

ps. The blogging might be a bit sporadic. The cat ate the R key off my keyboard. Seriously. Typing this has taken me a LONG time... ETA- now also missing the 3, F9 and the left arrow. I do not understand the obsession.

Big things and exciting plans

So if I know you in real life, or if we're facebook/twitter friends, then you will know that I am pregnant. It feels pretty strange to be writing down, as it has felt like a half-secret for so long that actually saying it feels like standing up after a long flight; stiff and awkward but ultimately a relief. I do feel like I should also confess that I am terrible at keeping secrets, so rather a lot of people have known for quite a long time. I have been operating on a 'tell people when I see them' basis, which meant the vast majority of our friends and family found out when we went home for 3 weeks. I am now safely back in California, soaking in the sunshine (getting sunburnt) and eating In n Out burger more often than anyone strictly should. Our baby is due to appear on St. Andrew's Day*, the 30th of November.

Being pregnant a second time has been a strange experience. In some ways, it has been surprisingly easy. People dread the worst case scenario, but we'd already lived through it and discovered that while it sucked, it was not that bad.** In other ways, it's been harder than the first time. Every appointment has been a MASSIVE stress, the scale of which varied but peaked into 'meltdown' proportions yesterday, before my 12 week scan (due to travelling, this ended up being at 14 weeks). This was the big one. I know people worry about abnormalities, I just really wanted a baby in there. Everyone at the Ultrasound clinic seemed fairly convinced there would be, and they were right. It was just hanging out, flip flopping around like a fish out of water. It managed to flip onto its front and stayed there, kicking its legs off the bottom of my uterus like it was an Early Learning Centre trampoline. It is exactly as it should be at this stage. It has a brain (this might sound silly, but Anencephaly was one of my biggest fears) and an abdomen and two feet and at least some fingers and all sorts of other things one needs to function. It wasn't just ok, it was thriving, measuring a whopping 5 days bigger than it should.

This is in spite of the Hyperemesis Gravidarum that seemed to haunt me for the first half of the first trimester. Thankfully I don't need to explain it much to people since Kate Middleton and the resultant media coverage means its a bit more widely understood, but it is rotten. I was lucky and had instant access to amazing medication that made INSANE vomiting stop pretty sharp-ish. Before the medication, I had days where moving my head in either direction was enough to make me vomit. It reminded me of the extreme hangovers I had a few times in University after drinking a bottle of vodka/jack daniels/gin. Except it never ended. It just went on and on and on until I ended up in the ER. It was decidedly crappy. I slept for hours at a time, and stopped eating pretty much everything that wasn't baked potatoes. The smell of toast would make me sick. With the meds (Zofran, or Ondansetron in the UK, for those interested parties) I started to feel a lot better at 11 weeks, after arriving at my parent's house. 

Ultrasounds through the weeks (can't remember the exact size on the last one- sorry!)
Also, sorry, the paper is REALLY shiny- too hard to get a good picture!

Today, I didn't take any medication. I have eaten breakfast (and half a packet of leftover salt and vinegar McCoys) and had 2 cups of tea. This felt completely out of the realm of possibility a few short weeks ago. I'm not eating tons- I ended up 13lbs (a stone) lighter over the three months, and have managed to gain a solitary pound since I started eating again. It is going to be a slow process. But I now have an appropriate amount of envy that my neighbour appears to be cooking delicious chilli rather than locking myself in the bathroom and crying.

Today is the first day we have started planning a future with a baby in it. At my doctor's appointment this morning, we discussed her philosophy on Labour and Dellivery. Turns out she likes to do things as naturally as possible- she won't be inducing me on my due date, as is pretty common here (booo) and believes strongly in it being a natural process, but with sensible risk minimisation. This is essentially where I think we are, more or less. I'm definitely not aiming to do it completely naturally though. I am a TOTAL WUSS and will take paracetamol at the first sign of a headache, so pain relief (and lots of it) is definitely in my dream delivery. It was awesome to hear her talk about her experiences in hippy-ish Seattle, where she said she learnt to really trust the experience and wisdom of the midwives in her team and to hold back on interventions where possible. She sent us away with a form to guide creating a birth plan, and to get us talking about what we want (I'm saying we to be polite, but honestly, I'm the one pushing it out- I'm going to be making most of the decisions). 

I really love our doctor, she has been the most amazing mix of sympathetic, supportive and hilarious through violent sickness and miscarriage fear. She is pretty irreverent about pregnancy and birth, which is awesome. Most importantly, however, she loved my handbag enough to write down where I got it, so I trust her judgement implicitly.

My stomach is starting to develop a weird lump in it that feels a bit creepy and hard  So the weekend has a trip to the Old Navy sale for a maxi dress and some maternity shorts (I have lost so much weight nothing fits me anywhere except the stomach. The bum, thighs and most of the waist are hanging off me. It's pretty dispiriting) as well as a 'scoping out, non-purchasing' trip to Babies R Us on the cards (on the basis that if we go and look when their is zero pressure/time constraints it will be easier down the line. I've heard the first trip is the worst- I'd rather do it feeling excited and full of energy...) Plans and more plans. And for the first time in 3 months, I'm not worrying.

*The patron saint of Scotland. It's a public holiday, sort of the FAR less drunken Scottish equivalent of St Patrick's Day.

**Should clarify that this was just our experience, miscarriage is totally different for everyone.

Leaving on a Jet Plane...

In a few hours I will be heading to hell on earth, also known as LAX, to jump on an aeroplane to take me all the way to London. I'll spend some time catching up with friends in London, then jump on the train that will take me to Edinburgh. I want to cry when I think about how much I will enjoy watching the scenery change as I travel through the south east of England, then the more rugged north before crossing the border to Scotland, and my beautiful home, Edinburgh.

A long weekend of catching up with all my best girls at Dr Kennedy's hen party* where we will tell stories of when we were all young and wild, and chat about our settled domesticity as old married ladies with mortgages and children. Then back to my home town, Paisley for lazy days with my mummy, daddy and the siblings, as well as Aunts and Uncles and cousins and my wonderful wee granny. The same TV shows will be playing- old detective dramas, my sister will sing too loudly and it'll annoy everyone. My brother will corner me to show me 'funny' youtube videos and talk about baseball. Daddy will worry I don't like his cooking and mummy will fall asleep on the sofa in the evenings.

After a week there, husband will join me and we'll head to the tiny seaside village of Aberdour for niece and nephew cuddles and games. I can't wait to run around on the sand in my jacket, scarf and boots, to paint big pictures and watch hours of CBeebies**. I'll get soaked at bath times and cuddle up in my sister-in-law's enormous bed to tell stories.

After that, it's St. Andrew's, husband's alma mater and the much anticipated, hard-earned MacWalter-Kennedy wedding. A night in a fancy hotel, then the drive to Manchester we have made a hundred times before, so I know each stop and quirk of the road all ready. I know we'll stop at Abingdon Services and I'll eat a cheese and bacon burger from Burger King (and lament the fact it's not 'In n Out') then we'll drive through the rain to Scotch Corner. It always rains at Scotch Corner. From there, we'll drive to the next stop, Westmoreland farm shop where we'll get coffee and some sort of meat pie, which will serve as a reminder that my husband is from the North of England and loves pies in ways I don't understand. The last part of the journey is usually sunnier, as we weave our way down the M6. We will get stuck in Traffic at Blackpool. 

From Manchester, it's back to LA. We'll fall out at the airport, as husband will fuss and panic about tickets and passports and making it to the gate on time and I'll get annoyed and say 'it's FINE' and dawdle and he'll get annoyed with me. Once we're on the plane it'll all be forgotten about.

I have adored all the new experiences in California. We do new things all the time. It's my favourite thing about living here. But for the next three weeks, I'm only going to do old, well-worn things. It will be a marvellous rest. I hope to blog and take lots of pictures, but I can't really make promises. I might be too full of tea and scones...

*A British Bachelorette party, American friends.

** THE British children's TV channel for the under 5 set. My 6 year old niece would be very annoyed if I didn't explain that she just watches it for her 4 year old brother. She is far too grown up for it.

My first big fat celebrity event...

I've mentioned on the blog a few times that I volunteer with an organisation called Baby2Baby, and Saturday was the Huggies sponsored Garden Party, which was in celebration of the fact Huggies have donated one million diapers to families in need in Los Angeles.

This preparation for this thing was NUTS. I went in to Baby2Baby a few times through the week (on one of these days, in a completely unrelated event, I met Jessica Alba, who is lovely and was lugging boxes around like a total champ, despite the fact she is the tiniest person I have ever encountered.) We were busy sorting and moving boxes and writing labels and all sorts through the week. The tension was definitely building, and Wednesday was pretty stressful. Thankfully, by Thursday things were a whole lot calmer and our outfits had been compared and everyone was happy and excited.

I arrived at a beautiful house in 90210 (Beverly Hills is actually a 5 minute drive from my house. This is hilarious to me) and I was decidedly nervous about fitting in to a high-flying crowd. I'm a 'jeans and flip flops' kind of girl, rather than 'fancy Beverly Hills Garden Party' type. As it was, I needn't have worried. Everyone was friendly and the sun was shining and the gorgeous garden looked so magical.

I was on the craft table. This will come as no surprise to you if you know me well. I love a good craft activity. We were making clay hand prints and mini-terrariums as Mother's Day gifts*. It was such good fun, and the kids were all adorable in their fanciest finery (which I helped cover in paint.) Some naming highlights included a 'Sheriff', a 'Rome', 'Camp' and more than one 'Stryker'.

There were a whole lot of celebrities. Like, everywhere you looked. Sadly, I didn't really know who half of them were, cause I only watch New Girl, Criminal Minds, baseball and basketball, but the twitter feed was pretty helpful for sussing it out! Since I only talked to a few of them, and mostly just watched them, and everyone always wants to know what they were 'like', I decided to make some snap judgements.

Most Dedicated Mum

Ellen Pompeo with her ADORABLE little girl Stella. She spent an absolute age making crafts with her daughter, and had no interest in anything or anyone else. It was so sweet to watch.

Ellen Pompeo with her wee girl (source)

Most enormously pregnant on a hot day

Poor Busy Phillips. By lunchtime it was so freakin' hot we were all dying. None of us were 8 months pregnant. Her daughter was super cute and she spent a lot of the morning giving interviews about her work with Baby2Baby, which was very sweet of her because I'd have sat with my feet in the pool and demanded people bring my Ice-cream if I were her.

Busy Phillips and Sarah Chalke (source)

Most amazing laugh

Sarah Chalke, aka Elliot from Scrubs. She is super elegant and lady like (with much darker hair these days) but with this big honking laugh that made me snigger. She also played basketball with her son in 7 inch heels, like a proper trooper.

One I stared at not knowing who she was

I was really grateful that I could wear sunglasses since I had this habit of staring at people in a 'do I know you?' kind of way, to which the answer was invariably no, you're on TV. The one I properly had that feeling with was Sasha Alexander, who was Pacey's sister in Dawson's Creek, or if you've watched TV since 1999, is currently in Rizzoli and Isles, which, as I'm sure you've guessed, I don't watch.

I didn't take any pictures, since the camera on my phone is rotten and I didn't bring my camera.Instead, I'm using Paparazzi shots from the internet. I did take a picture with my Baby2Baby friends in front of the screen- once I get a copy I will post it for hilarity value. All in, I had a really lovely afternoon. The food was amazing, the crafts were fun and the whole event helped raise awareness of the awesome work Baby2Baby does, something I am really proud to be part of. Now we just need to start planning for the summer event...

*Mother's Day in the US is on the 12th of May. I feel very smug that my mum already has her card and I don't have to panic about it...

My favourite places...

I'm back! Having been so super unwell, the thought of blogging was just too much. But I am now back, madly topping up my tan in preparation for my trip back home, sleeping a lot and eating out in an attempt to put back some of the insane amount of weight I lost. 

I thought I'd update you on some of the new places we've discovered recently, all pretty famous in LA but new to us! 

Milo + Olive

I went to this bakery in Santa Monica for my friend Hillary's birthday breakfast, and it was delicious. I took husband this morning for some cake and coffee, and it did not disappoint. It's pretty pricey, but you can see into the open kitchen and see for yourself how much care and attention is put into the food. We were pretty amazed to watch one of the chef's hand cubing cheese to go on the pizza. Perfect.

The Omelette Parlour

Another Santa Monica staple, this looks a bit like a twee tea shop from the outside, and we had walked past it before. We were desperate for breakfast on Main Street one day and had the most amazing breakfast sitting out on the gorgeous patio. We were instantly sold. The portions are ENORMOUS and fed husband for about 3 days, and it was the price as a diner like Denny's. New favourite breakfast spot for sure.

The Apple Pan

I just happened to come across a show on the Food Network a few weeks ago about the best burgers in LA. The Apple Pan was the host's favourite, and it is really close to where we live, so we had to check it out. It is seriously old by LA standards, and they have been serving the same burger since 1927. It's cash only (unheard of in LA) and the staff have worked there forever (and average of 35 years...) The burger was delicious. It had a whole lot of really delicious sweet relish on it, which is normally not my thing at all, but I was totally sold.Husband had a Hickory burger (only been on the menu since 1947- amateur) and he was a BIG fan. Finished off with the biggest portion of apple pie ever, we were so excited to find such an awesome spot nearby.

It's hard when people are visiting to know where to take them- we want something uniquely LA and seem to forget all our awesome local spots in the planning. We will definitely be taking our friends to some of these places in the summer. Can't wait for guests!