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Some days it's easier than others to keep optimistic. Seeing Gav on weds, and then again on thurs last week made me happier than I've been in a while, but for some reason the clouds of doom descended again on friday afternoon. I really don't know why; last weds was a really nice day; we went to the appointment then he took me out to one of our old favourite places AND paid for dinner, then we came back to the flat and after (censored!) we snuggled up for a bit, before having a bit of a tickling match. It was lovely, just like old times. He said he loves me, and it wouldn't be too long before he moves back in with me.



The weekends are definitely the hardest. During the week I have work as a distraction, but there's nothing like that on a weekend. Maybe I should take a weekend job too, then I wouldn't have largely unoccupied chunks of time in which to dwell on things. Keeping my mind active is getting harder and harder; thoughts of him are intruding more. It's like I've fallen for him all over again, but this time there's the pain of not being able to be with him all the time.



After being an ardent pessimist/defeatist for as long as I can remember, it's really a new thing for me to try and think positive. He WILL come back, it WILL work out, we WILL be happy, he DOES love me. All these thoughts seem so alien, and I sometimes feel like I'm deluding myself when I think them. But if I don't think them, I'm just going to go right back where I was a couple months ago. I've been at rock bottom - I didn't like the view.



It was sweet, he put his head on my belly on weds to see if he could feel the baby. I was hoping it would nudge him in the ear as it'd been writhing around for most of the morning. But no, the little bugger is as stubborn as mummy and daddy, and just remained still. Maybe next time...before long it'll be too big NOT to feel. I call it my little Sub because apparently it's a foot long :-)

This country (should be CUNTry) sucks ass.



I've been reading up on financial matters during maternity leave and according to the government website:



The first 6 weeks of my ML I will get 90% of my salary. Fair enough, it's not too bad, around £240 per week at my current rate of pay.



BUT...



The remaining time (maximum 33 weeks) I will get the grand sum of...£123 per week. Which I'll be TAXED on.



In addition to that, I get £18.10 per week for child benefit.



And that's IT. So I'll have to live on £141 per week until I can go back to work. That works out at £611 per month, or £536 after tax (assuming I don't get taxed on child benefit). My rent alone is £300, and that's if I stay in this poky 1 bedoom flat. It'll be more if I move to a place with 2 bedrooms.



So, disposable income per month: £236. Which will barely cover council tax, utilities and TV licence. How the hell I'm gonna eat I don't know. And I can kiss my phone, car, internet and buying things for baby goodbye.



I'm not entitled to any help with rent, or council tax, or any other form of benefits because technically, I'm earning a full-time salary. There's a slight chance I could get 'income support' (god I hate that phrase); but it is only a SLIGHT chance.



The sickening thing is, if I was a feckless layabout who'd never worked a day in her life, I'd have money thrown at me left right and centre. But because I've worked full time - I'm entitled to basically nothing. That's the way this stupid cunt-ry works.



I can see me having to go back to work once the 6 weeks @ 90% pay is up. Yeah- leaving a 6 week old baby in a nursery. That won't make me feel like a shitty mother...(!)



Obviously there's a chance Gav will be living back with me by then, so it'll be much easier, but I have to err on the side of caution and prepare for the worst-case scenario. I just hope it doesn't come to that...

Well it seems baby decided to have a lazy day/scare mommy day yesterday after all. Was in bed last night and got an almighty kick as if to say 'I'm baaaaack!'. Little bugger.



Heard the heartbeat again today too, nice and strong. Seems like everything's progressing normally. Next midwife appointment is at 24 weeks, on the 28th April. I've then got yet another hospital appointment at 28 weeks, on the 20-something May. BEfore that I also need to get an appointment with the genetic counsellor but I'm yet to hear from them.

I'm kinda worried; I haven't felt baby move all day. It was really active last night so I thought it might just be having a lazy day, but how long with no movement should I wait before seeking help?



Well, I'm at the ante-natal clinic tomorrow morning so they can check it out if necessary. I won't start to panic just yet.



*breathe*

Something a friend of mine said to me the other day struck a chord. I'm unsure whether to mention it to Gav, or whether it'll even make a difference, but it's quite a depressing thought. This child I'm carrying is the first for both of us, and we're never going to get this time back. He'll never, ever know what it's like to fully anticipate the birth of his first child. Because we're apart at the moment, neither of us can truly experience the feeling of impending parenthood. The time we shold be spending talking about plans for the baby has been spent either apart or bickering, and to me that just seems like a complete waste. This will never happen again for either of us; you only have your first child once. And he's missing out on so much.

Discovered this baby doesn't like being squished. If I lean forward against something which presses my belly a little; I get a kick. If I lie in my usual position in bed (half on my stomach); I get a kick. If the cat lies on my stomach; I get a kick. When Gav pulled me to him yesterday; I got a kick.



I just can't wait until it's big enough for the movements to be felt outside of my belly. Can't wait to see the cat's reaction when he lays on my stomach then!