Birth Story

*In order to keep the blog up to date, I'm compiling this entry from brief updates I posted to a  discussion board as it happened.  There are many things about our experience - the birth and the days that followed - that I am still working through and I shall perhaps post more on this at a later date. In the meantime, sorry if this is a little choppy*

Begining early afternoon on the 12th January, I had strong back ache and cramps (in addition to the tightening since late boxing day) I actually resorted to paracetamol to get some sleep (which for me, is a big deal)

Then my waters went around 1:45am. I got up and changed, paced out the beginning contractions for an hour until mum came downstairs (she'd been listening out for me) and called the labour ward to make sure they had record of me since I'm still technically from out of area.
After asking a few questions, the midwife on duty recommended that I get some sleep and call FMAU in the morning.

After five hours of dozing off and on, I called FMAU who were already pretty busy. They recommended that I attend my midwife appointment, let her know what was going on and that she would book an induction after the usual 24 hours, if labour hadn't progressed.  In the meantime, A arrived just after lunch and was helping me to stay active and move labour along.

When labour didn't start by Wednesday morning, we were induced. Of all things, it had to be the pessary. Uncomfortable for most, to those of us with penetration anxiety and a tilted uterus to navigate... in the end we got it halfway.

We then went up to the birth centre to await developments. From 9:30 to 5, we watched others coming in after being induced and then being carted off to labour ward.  My contractions started in earnest in my back, progressing very quickly to almost a minute duration and alternating between a minute and five apart. Unfortunately for the other couples on the ward (and I felt really guilty about it but couldn't stop myself) I quickly latched on to vocalising as my main coping strategy. The cramps I could have handled but the backache was so strong, I could barely move.

As the night wore on, I accepted first a tens machine and then paracetamol and codeine. It had eased off a little by bed time but I was still vocalising and to help me relax about it, we were moved to a two bed ward where we were alone for the night.  Don't know what I would have done without A that night though. It's times like these that make me so grateful and proud to have her in my life.
By the morning, labour had not progressed further. After monitoring and breakfast, we were headed up to labour ward.

Ten hours of back labour with the drip and we found out that I was only 3cms gone. I was about to lose it at this point -already feeling I had nothing left to give. We tried diamorphine and then an epidural before one of the doctors realised that the reason we were struggling so much was because baby was presenting with her head in an awkward position.

We were taken down to theatre, where they tried first forceps and then suction to turn her. As a final resort when these failed, baby arrived by emergency c-section at exactly 4am.

Back on the labour ward, we seemed to be doing ok. Baby was struggling to feed but the midwife didn't seem concerned and said she'd get it in time. And we were discovering that my fast healing extends to surgery too.
About 7:30 someone came in to talk to us about needing to give baby anti-biotics for a potential infection I had been showing signs of during delivery. A went with her, when they took her away.

Whilst they tried to identify the source of the infection and the cause of her slightly lowered oxygen sats, baby was kept in a hot cot with oxygen for the first three days.  I felt the distance between the postnatal ward and high dependency, especially at night. I'm just grateful that the hospital is pro-breast and encouraged me to visit for feeds. The infection has since almost passed on its own, under a general range of anti-biotics but was never identified and was put down to PROM (my waters went over 70 hours before the C-section) And as a result of their investigations, a chest x-ray turned up a concerning sized pneumothorax.  There has been some improvement and she continues to be monitored.

The three days before we came home, baby and I were on a special ward between postnatal and high dependency. I was the only mother there breastfeeding and found it a little difficult, between baby's feeding hourly through the night and A returning home for work.  Mum would pop in for half hour visits at mealtimes, giving me just enough time to dash (as fast as my healing would allow) to grab something to eat and attempt to clean/tidy myself up.  Don't get me wrong: given how she had been taken away from us so soon after birth, it felt so good to finally have that time with her and even the long nights felt close and intimate, with the curtains drawn and the soft glow of the night light.  There were just so many moments where I felt down and unsure, living like a single parent and feeling like the night was going on forever.  The dawn always came though and with it: mum, pastries and a hot shower for my aching back.  She continues to cluster feed through the night but now that we're home, I'm starting to take it into my stride.

At home now and we continue to marvel at what a character she is.  She has such a calm, placid nature, most of the time.  At night, she asks for a feed with a little whimpering and will lie quietly once she's acknowledged, waiting patiently until I have myself sorted.  Even the nappy changes are quiet and stress free.  It's almost a completely different baby however when we try to change her clothes...

Jingle Belle (Part 2) Due date + 4 - Yup, Still Pregnant!

After going through this post, I've realised that it really needs to be broken down further - such an eventful time of year :D This post is mainly about Christmas with the family and the next should hopefully bring us up to date.

Well, what a Christmas! We agreed this year that since A wanted to spend some time with her sister and I couldn't fly so close to term, we'd take our chances and have separate Christmases this year, with me travelling to spend time with my parents in Devon the day before A flew out to her sister's family in Ireland.  My mother was especially excited to have a family Christmas this year, with baby so close to due and this being my sister's last year at home before emigrating; she had gone all out on decorating rooms, shopping for everyone's favourite food and planning meals over the festive week.
It was like the magical Christmases of my childhood - right down to the little foot-and-a-half tree I found in my room, lit up and waiting for me.

I received the call from my consultant the day after I arrived and immediately, the holiday felt ruined.  Perhaps it was frustration at everything going down so close to my due date, perhaps it was the fact that it was happening whilst I was getting ready to enjoy a really special Christmas, perhaps it was just hormones; I cried for a solid hour after speaking with her - just contemplating having our baby girl arriving under such circumstances when everything had been going so well!  I dragged myself out of the funk I was in that day by holding onto one thought: at 38 weeks, baby was fully developed, presenting head down and I was far enough away to keep them waiting on a potential induction whilst I took matters into my own hands.  Long walks.  Bouncing.  Curries.  Here we go!  By Christmas, I was starting to feel more relaxed.  I had plenty of time before I was expected back for another blood draw and my plan was going to work.

Christmas day started in the usual calm and casual manner our family prefers: a summons to my youngest brother's room to open my stocking with him, a brief gathering at the tree for a couple presents each and then breakfast.  I've always had fond memories of gathering as a family for Christmas breakfast.  Everyone gets involved setting table with the seasonal cloth and mats whilst the parents are dishing up cooked breakfasts for those who want it, filling bowls of cereal and heating up the pastries.  Once my sister and I have finished ferrying things from kitchen to dining room and have coaxed the boys away from their current collective obsession (this year: rubix cubes) we sit to table and enjoy time together.  My appetite wasn't brilliant that morning but for baby's sake, I managed a couple pastries with some tea.

After that, it was on and off present opening during the day, a few at a time interspersed with eating, movies, walking the dog and (for me) napping.  Right now, I look back on this day and others like it from when I was small and two things stand out: Firstly, how much more fun you can have if you take your time on the day, instead of turning it into one big present opening frenzy before crashing for hours afterwards.  I plan to follow through with this kind of structure when baby gets old enough to really get into Christmas; from the little token present the night before Christmas to the not-a-surprise-any-more-but-we'll-pretend last present before bed, including all the traditions I used to enjoy as a girl such as the family breakfast and heading out for a brisk walk before settling down for the evening.
The other thing is how wonderful it feels to be a part of a larger family at Christmas.  There were seven of us gathered together on Christmas day (would have been eight, if A had been with us) and I know this was one of the things that made the day so special.  It only made me more excited to imagine family Christmases in the future: A and I sitting comfortably together with our morning tea, two, three or -dare I hope?- more children, excitedly tearing into their little stockings, the smell of warm pastries drifting in from the kitchen....

Boxing day is usually a low-key day for us, spent tidying up the small piles of gifts that have accumulated in everyone's preferred corners, putting together anything that needs assembly, reading, talking, checking emails and watching the lunchtime movie.  Sometimes extended family will stop by for an hour or so, to exchange gifts and catch up on family gossip.  On these occasions, mum will lay out a buffet style lunch of leftover meats, salads, cheese, crackers and dips - the usual affair.  The evening usually passes without much fanfare.  This year was different.  I felt different; tired but restless, hungry but not, wanting to be with people but developing a sudden aversion to the busy social hub that our living room had become.  I had started getting backache and my Braxton Hicks contractions were starting to feel a little stronger.

By dinner time the next day, I was getting less comfortable as time went on and my mother and sister insisted on taking me to get checked out at our local A&E unit - they in turn sending me to the labour ward for assessment.  That evening felt so surreal, sitting with a continuous monitor on baby and the regular beep of the blood pressure cuff taking a reading.  I admit, it was a little exciting to think that baby was so close to putting in an appearance (although a part of me already knew that, with the contractions being more uncomfortable than painful and not quite regular, it wasn't actually labour)  Once the midwife had discharged me and we had arrived home, mum was still watching me like a hawk.  My sister made a point of asking us to come wake her if anything happened during the night and mum recommended she keep clothes by the bed, ready.  I tried to remind them that prelabour (which I felt it was) could last for weeks and I was fairly sure nothing would happen that night but still - a part of me was picking up on their excitement.  One week before my due date and it looked like everything was about to kick off.

Ultrasound (12 weeks)

Tuesday was our first Ultrasound and I can't begin to describe how amazing it felt to actually see little Felix on the monitor.

The midwife (W) marked in our yellow book (the pregnancy records that travel to every baby appointment with us) that we are hoping to deliver at the birthing suite close by to where we live. Since they will only accept low risk pregnancies, we will have to wait until we've passed our anomaly scan around the 20th week to know if they will be able to refer us. In the mean time, we are proceeding as for a delivery at the central suite.

So for our first scan, we hopped on the bikes and headed thirty minutes across the city for the antenatal clinic at the big hospital.  We were both tired, sleep being evasive in the weather we are currently having (we've since been looking into low energy floor fans to take the edge off the room at bed-time) and I was especially irritable because of an uncomfortably full bladder but all of that changed as soon as the image of our baby appeared on the screen set up for us.  Until that moment, I think because I've had so few symptoms, it has sometimes been hard to believe that I'm pregnant.  But to see that perfectly formed image, with tiny heart beating away...It seemed so real suddenly. A took my hand and together we looked at our little miracle.  Maybe I'm a little bias but I think Felix already has my mother's nose.

! ! !

There are no words

From the time I first started posting, I have probably spent hours planning the mega post that this would be. Instead, I realise two things:

1)

Allowing for picture quality - Ansel Adams, I ain't - does the second line seem a little faint? Does it count, do you think? This was taken at four minutes but I guarantee it's no different to when the timer went off - which is salient to the next point.

and 2) There are no words to describe how we're feeling right now.  We tested yesterday and there was no line - not a speck. And then I don't know why, maybe because my bust was just so damn sore at this point, but we ended up testing again this morning. Thank Goddess I didn't join A in having a glass of wine with dinner last night! It's so exciting to see the result box filled with something and yet, we're not sure if we can trust it. What if it's a dud? How can it go from nothing to this? There is one thing that gives us hope that this is the real deal though - yesterday, I was half asleep but A assures me I got up to pee at 3.  What we tested with two hours later wasn't the first of the day, so maybe it's just really early. We'll be retesting tomorrow with a branded test stick. Until then, we were just too excited not to post this.

Everything crossed! And if we were lucky this month, hoping that our luck makes it to everyone else on this babymaking rollercoaster - you guys are awesome!

Spring has sprung

Moving into Spring this week and life has taken on a strangely comfortable flow.  I'm susceptible to weather-triggered mood swings and with the mad-March weather, we were prepared for the usual irritability.  These last couple weeks however, I don't know if it's to do with the changing work situation or just the change in season but we've started feeling more like we've been coasting along, calm and contented.

During the last week, the wheel of the year has turned to spring and Oestara, the spring equinox, marked the change in season.  Among many other things, Oestara is a celebration of fertility, and I especially felt the need to connect with Goddess at this time.

A and I don't practice the same faith, though we take an interest in each other's beliefs, so I celebrated Oestara alone.  I walked the longer route into town, following the quiet cycle path that is bordered by trees and other plant life and just generally enjoying the evidence of Spring.  Eventually, the path lead into a wide grassy park where children like to play.  Oestara is a celebration of new life and childhood and those who celebrate the Goddess may choose to focus on her maiden aspect at this time. There was a time when I would celebrate this season in unabashed childishness - skipping, running, singing childhood songs - but instead, I chose to just sit and listen to the young children in the park and reflect on happy childhood memories and the memories A and I hope to create with our child/ren.

As I often do, I integrated my Oestara meditation and personal celebration ritual with baking cupcakes this year.  Baking always puts me in mind of happy times in my childhood and I love how well it expresses the creative energies of the new season.  I made some of them into butterfly cakes (just a couple though, diet and all...) and outlined little ducks and bunnies in green and yellow icing on a few others.  It made such a happy sight and our home smelled wonderful by the time A came home from work.

In other news, this try has been relatively symptom free; and with a testing date of Tuesday and no sign of the monthlies, this could really be the magic cycle.

A Single Step

As expected, the cramps I was experiencing before my interviews did presage the end of that attempt; but we picked ourselves up and kept running because we had a number of projects in progress that have been doing an excellent job of keeping us distracted.

The interviews went well and we both secured offers conditional on background checks, references, etc. It would mean stepping down from a position of responsibility for me and a cut in my hourly rate (although since I am only contracted for the weekend, with the applicable increases I will have a satisfactory wage even before overtime.) A has accepted an offer to stay working in her ward after she negotiated hours better suited to her study (and more conductive to a social life.)  This puts us in a very strong position from this summer, when I will have completed my period of training.  In the mean time, between visits from the new op's manager and promotion changes, there is enough going on at work to keep me busy.

And as to this months attempt: we started a little later than expected.  My cm and basal temperature were not showing the slightest indication of anything resembling interesting and we were beginning to think this month wasn't going to happen. On day 19 (Monday), I noticed some wet cm whilst I was at work and figured we should at least get in a try this month - if we want to fit in as many tries as mother nature will give us a shot at before our step-up deadline of August (the anniversary of our first attempt.) After a quick call to A, we arranged an insem for the next day, which R and I conveniently both had off.

Day 20; and low and behold, fertile cm, agreeable temps and R at our door - the planets must have aligned yesterday, because everything went according to plan.  I'm inclined to believe Goddess arranged the situation for us after we were starting to get frustrated with the delay between ewcm and insem, and how often we were having to do these things on days when either R or I (or both of us) had to work.  As it is, we're looking at another magic cycle and we're channeling every available resource into directing positive energy in the right direction. I'm using a rose quartz bracelet as a fertility totem for this cycle and We've asked a friend whose circle specialises in fertility spells to help.  There are baby pictures and magazines dotted all around the flat to emphasize our objective (including one in the snack draw as a deterrent for me, lolz) and we're trying to keep to fresh, in season foods to draw health and vitality into ourselves.

Try number 6 - the second magic cycle - is here.

It's the final countdown

It's the day before testing and cramps have set in. They started in my lower back and radiated towards my sides, which is how my worst periods always start. There's been a bit of discharge that might have been pinky but so far, we're keeping up the positive vibes and hoping our visit to Ireland imbued this try with some Irish luck.

A's hard at work and I have the evening lock-down shift so I'm keeping myself occupied with a steady stream of trashy teen shows - interspersed with youtube videos by 'the Piano Guys' (I'm going through a cello phase)

See you on the other side

And on it goes....

Halloween. The date we had chosen as test day for this 'magic' cycle. And although my period has come and gone, we are in a better place than we were at this point after last time. There's still a strange sense of suspended time hanging over the house though. It's like when you know there's rain coming - even when you have no need to leave the house, you still keep looking out the windows and wondering where it is. I keep looking at the cupboard thinking 'that period was pretty light/short..' I know how ridiculous it would be - taking a test after my period - but it's almost like I'm missing the closure of that negative.  Funny, that's what it was like waiting for my period last time. Maybe I need them both to make it real.  Managed to hold off taking it anyway.

Thinking of using the instead cup for next attempt although we're still debating weather to wait until after the new year to try again(not wanting to risk long-haul flights if I do get pregnant in the next couple cycles). Will continue to think these things over and distract ourselves with research.

In the meantime, Happy Hallowe'en to all who celebrate

The Magic Cycle

CD 17 and we are good to go.

With our donor, R, abroad last month, we had to sit the last cycle out. And we had almost given up on this month, after the previous cycle ran over a little (eleven days-but who’s counting?) moving likely ovulation dates back into a planned holiday. As it was, we needn't have worried. Looks like another long cycle this month and with it, a delayed O date.

We’re feeling good about this. Tomorrow’s insem falls on the waxing side of a full moon. And with our planned test date of Samhain, we may find the added boost of magic it takes to create something wonderful.