Snowy to mum. “I’m coming out soon. Please have dinner on the table”

Tricky is now almost 38 weeks pregnant. 37 weeks is considered full-term. That means Snowy could come out any time now.

Last night, Tricky had some fairly strong Braxton Hicks contraction type pains and discomfort (I want to have some bodily function named after me one day – it will probably be related to flatulence.) They were strong enough that she woke me to talk to me about them, although I wasn't much help other than mumbling a few words of reassurance and fetching a heat pack. At least I think it was a heat pack I put in the microwave. It could have been a loaf of bread or a melon for all I know, but she didn't complain. Actually, considering she has a bladder the size of a thimble, lungs like two small paper bags, and intestines like a long flattened bicycle tube, not to mention the budding footballer/kickboxer she's carrying around inside her, Tricky complains very little. If it were men who got pregnant instead of women, they would spend most of their time complaining to their mates about it and spending vast amounts of money trying to invent ways for women to have babies instead of them. So whilst the time for Snowy to come out fast approaches, he is not actually doing very much in there. Snowy's putting on a bit of fat here and there, sucking in some amniotic fluid (mmm, yum), practising breathing (which causes him to hiccup), losing some more lanugo (special baby body hair), trampolining on mum's bladder and park benching his little arse on her ribs. But mostly he's just lazing about in a lovely warm environment, wondering how long its all going to last. Its going to last about another two to four weeks, little Snowy. It would be cool if you would come out in the next 24 hours. that way Tricky and I could be home from hospital in time to watch The Ashes fourth test. Otherwise, in your own time. Either way, we can't wait to meet you.

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