Reflections (Warning: potential triggers)

Listening to the sounds of my partner moving around in the other room, I furtively turn down the volume on the television and brace myself for the next hour's viewing.
I've developed a strange need, in the months since my daughter's birth to watch programs such as 'one born,' especially those advertised to contain traumatic births and/or emergency C-sections.  It's like poking at a bruise. I know it will hurt and that it's completely unproductive but I can't help it.
It's not the birth stories that I'm actually after; it's the cathartic release afterwards.

When I posted an account of my daughter's birth in the previous post, my intent was to keep the blog up-to-date and to write something a little neater at a later date.  Now I feel it is best left as it is.  There is something almost fitting in the rough, unpolished account I've given. It may have been a long labour but to me, it still felt as if it was spiralling out of my control too fast for me to adjust. As a result, I was left feeling like her birth was something that happened to me, rather than an experience I had been waiting for all my life.  I felt robbed of the natural birth I had been fighting for tooth and nail all through my pregnancy, I was frightened by how fast everything was happening and angry and confused with myself and my inability to let go of the feelings that memories of her birth evoke and the implications for future birth (should we be so lucky)

I tried to voice these feelings; first to my mother, herself having delivered by emergency C-section twice and then I tried to broach the subject on my first home visit. I was told in the first instance that I had been too focused on my expectations for birth and that I needed to let it go and focus on my beautiful baby girl. The health visitor made noises to indicate she was listening as I tried to explain but I actually started to feel like I was making something out of nothing. Even when I briefly mentioned it on my post-natal check up, it was almost as if the GP took a mental step back as I was talking - like she was humouring me.

So now, I'm left feeling guilty about these emotions and not sure how to handle them.  I take baby for long walks during the day and once I've found a secluded spot on the cycle path, I allow myself a few frustrated tears.  I watch programs relating to birth as if I need this reason to validate my need to cry.

Maybe these feelings will pass one day, I don't know.  In the mean time, I just keep going.

Jingle Belle (Part 1) Due Date + 2

As always happens with us, everything kicked off at the last minute this holiday season.  I'm taking two posts to cover everything. This one deals with pre-Christmas and there will be another later today or tomorrow to bring everything up to date.

December started out as pretty uneventful.  I took walks to stay limber, worked on getting the flat set up for baby's imminent arrival and kept up with the housework.  I even found time to get us ready for Christmas: baking gingerbread, sending out the cards and putting up decorations.  We couldn't believe what an easy, healthy pregnancy I was having.

Then the other shoe finally dropped.

The day after our last appointment with the midwife, I called to set up a tour of our first choice birthing centre.  The consultant had signed off on the low-risk-only midwife led unit, pending the results of one final test, my maternity notes were filled with printouts of great lab work and normal blood pressure and I was feeling good; healthy, happy and ready to go.  At the midwife appointment, the results of the final draw had come in and whilst they were slightly elevated, she had told me they were within a normal range for me and had suggested booking in on the tour ready for the big day.
But at the same time as I was booking in on the tour, the antenatal clinic left a message on my phone.  Because the results of the last draw were elevated from their baseline reading, they wanted to repeat the test.

I went on the tour anyway.  It was three weeks to my due date and I had every reason to believe it would work out.  It had taken a whole week after the results were made available for them to call me and so I figured it was never that urgent.  Whilst I was visiting the unit, I spoke to one of the midwives about my history, the monitoring during my pregnancy and the most recent results.  She called up my results from the system and said that whilst they were a little elevated, she saw no reason it should cause a problem.

Feeling relieved, I went back to the antenatal clinic a couple days later.  The consultant was happy with my health and said that, short of the results turning topsy-turvy, I was good to go.  She even wrote in big letters in my notes that I was good to go.  We did the draw just before I left and she said she'd marked it as express and would call me with the results later that day.
It actually took four days for her to get back to me with the news that my creatinine levels had risen further.  Thirteen days to my due date and the word 'induce' had started creeping into conversation....

The end of this run

The interview went well. There were the scenario questions they usually ask for team leader positions, some elaboration on my relevant experience and a little more about the position. I think I did well.  We'll just have to see how things go.

This evening, A and I are settling down to fajitas and a movie as our reward for getting through this week.   Spotting sighted. Looks like this isn't our month. Counting our rainbows though, I can drink at our anniversary dinner next weekend and no early pregnancy symptoms to deal with during next weeks interview.

Over that hill is a brighter tomorrow - you just have to get there!

We had planned to begin testing on Thursday but with cramps setting in on Wednesday that felt like I'd been kicked in the kidneys and several interviews looming, we pushed it to the weekend (if my cycle lasts that long)

I've been a little up and down the last couple of days.  The good stuff is because my request for a four day weekend has been approved, so A and I can celebrate her birthday and our anniversary in style.
The not so great is that at random moments, I've been feeling the build up of my old friend anxiety.  I'm assuming that moments of distraction are allowing me to subconsciously dwell on the interviews because none of my other triggers have been hit.  I'll be counting stock in the warehouse when all of a sudden I'll find myself short of breath and tight chested.  I feel much weaker than I used to be; just a week ago, hefting sacks of potatoes onto a trolley, getting a milk cage up the ramp or moving a cage of delivery was no trouble now I have to call for one of the boys to help me.  And I'm suddenly more sensitive to the cold.  I've found myself putting on a sweater, curled under a fleecy blanket and still needing the heating turned on.  This despite the fact that A, who finds it hard to adapt to the cold, is still comfortable in casual clothes.  Hopefully it passes soon; I've even had moments where I've felt sick with it.

Tuesday's lit & numeracy testing went well; it was a very basic test designed to ascertain that all prospective employees met the minimum requirements.  A had her test early in the day and then returned later for her interview but because my test was later in the day, I was asked to return for my interview next week.

Today we have literacy and numeracy testing for the other position we have applied for, which requires higher standards.  A's just left me a message to say hers went well and I'll be leaving for mine shortly.  I think I'm ready.  Wish me luck.