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...

Here Comes the Sun

It's getting late and I'm sitting relaxed in the 'study' with a cup of tea, having put aside the sheet of irregular verbs I've been working on.  The flat is quiet - presumably the lodgers have gone out to eat - and I'm enjoying the moment of calm before A comes home from class, when bags will need unpacking, a fresh pot will need putting on and something will have to be done about dinner.

I've lost count of what cycle day I'm on, I believe it's thirty-five or somesuch, and since we started actively trying, this is the closest to relaxed and contented I have been.  I know that may change if this journey continues for a more prolonged period but right now, this home is balanced and happy.  This is the happy thought (rainbow) I'd like to give thanks for tonight and I'd like to send some positivity from this to everyone who needs it.

We've decided to put off testing until the weekend, when A doesn't have to get up at silly-o'clock and I can wait until a reasonable 6/7am to test with her there.  It makes sense to wait the extra couple days, since I tend to start bleeding two or three days after a negative result anyway; and in the last couple of days, I've been experiencing the dairy cravings and bloat that usually presages my period.  Whether the extent of my cravings - driving me out of the house right before dinner because the world will end if I don't have cheesecake - is reasonably explained by my being pre-menstrual, we shall have to wait and see.

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.

(Part 1) Pre Holiday

And after the short intermission, we're back! These last couple of months have been pretty eventful so I'm going to have to do this in a two part post, with the second half posted tomorrow. This first half is basically just a long tale of me getting injured and finally slaying a dragon.

So what's new with us? As you've likely guessed, the pre-Christmas cycle didn't take. Counting our rainbows: we flew to Peru without having to deal with anything beyond meeting-the-parents nerves and I got to let my hair down for the duration of the holiday and try anything I wanted without questioning how it was cooked or if it contained any ingredients I should be avoiding.

Pre-holiday, I finally dealt with an issue that's been causing a lot of stress at work; namely the team manager. Don't get me wrong, when he wants to work, he can - on his terms. Most of the time, Dh (the name I'm using for him here) spends sitting in the office, reading, eating...you know the type.  Two weeks before we were due to leave for Peru, Dh was working night shifts to cover for a staff shortage. One evening, I ended up leaving the store in a very dark mood because of some things he had said, questioning my leadership role and how I motivated my team. He, the man who is well known for spending his shifts in the office, said this to me in front of members of my team and I was furious with him, not just for what he was saying about me in front of other staff but for how he was daring to imply my team was lazy, when three of those with me that night were indisputably the hardest workers in the store.

At that time of night, it gets very calm on the roads, easy for someone holding on to a lot of tension to turn their minds to other things and give them time to vent.  As I cycled home that night, I imagined various scenarios of how that conversation should have gone; what I should have said to him, what I so wanted to say to him. So intent was I on saying my piece that I forgot to pay attention to the road.  I felt the bike start to give under me as I moved over the curved surface at the edge of the road designed to control runoff.  I put out my foot, trying to catch the curb before I fell and missed it.  The road I was on was a large one, the outside lane I was using leading towards the nearby motorway.  As I fell, I felt a blind panic, my mind registering only two things: a white hot pain in my ankle and images of the usual traffic on that road: car, van, doubledecker megabus...Needless to say, I was very lucky things didn't end a lot worse that night - take this as a lesson, kiddies: Always give the road your full attention!

Despite my protesting ankle, I picked myself up and, after a few minutes of limping, cycled back home to where a warm bed eased most of my pains and stresses.  The next morning, I woke to an ballooning ankle and a relentless ache setting in to the wrist I had landed on.  Getting out of the bunk bed was especially difficult that morning and I cursed Dh with every step (even though I know it was my own fault for not paying attention to the road. I think I was still more shaken by what had happened than I cared to admit)
The doctor confirmed that neither were serious injuries. I'd aggravated an old injury - a jarred wrist that had not been given a chance to heal properly - and caused a slight sprain on my ankle (She assures me it would have been much worse had I been cycling the heavier electric bike that night.)  Being me, I was back at work before a week had passed and nothing more was said - I bit my tongue around Dh when I couldn't avoid him but inwardly, I was still seething. Red is not a pretty colour on me.

It came to a head on the first Tuesday morning back at work. I had locked up the store the previous night, as  there had been no delivery and I had sent the night crew home to be utilised when it came in in the morning.  There's a fair amount of work goes into a lock down so we try our best to avoid last minute ones - especially when you're starting the procedure an hour late and short staffed - but we managed it; and whilst I knew it wasn't perfect, I left knowing that it was in a reasonable condition.  I signed on and started a store walk with Dh to assess where we stood.  Once we were away from the general manager in the office, Dh turned to me on the stairs and said "First of all, I don't know what you were doing last night but when I walked in this morning, the store was a state.  Delivery didn't come in so you didn't have much to do and you had plenty of staff so there was no reason for me to find the store looking like this."  His first clue should have been the crack of my jaw as I clenched it.  As we started along the first aisle, he started in with picking fault "Right, this aisle was only given a cursory face-up, which is not good for a lockdown night. I know you're not as fast on your feet at the moment but there was plenty of staff here to help you.  And there's a lot of gaps here that you could have picked from the warehouse and had someone fill [...]"  As he carried on, I kept myself to single syllable answers in the same flat tone - he failed to notice the warning signs until half-way down the aisle, I finally had had enough.

"May I say something to defend myself now?" My tone brought his head up sharply and he nodded, folding his arms and drawing himself up to his full 6 feet.  Refusing to be intimidated, I let him have it.
"The team worked damn hard last night to get the store to this state.  Two of us working eight hour shifts without so much as a tea break.  And you know that despite this, had I had someone else to stay with me, I would have stayed till midnight facing up the store after hours in my own time.  If you care to look at my task list on the desk, you know that despite my sore ankle, I was running around this store last night catching up on not only my shift work but half of the previous shifts' tasks - yours!  Take a look at how much we made last night and look again at how many staff I had and then tell me we aren't pulling our weight. And while I've got you here, let's talk about where my motivation's supposed to come from.  How often do I start a shift in the middle of a busy lunch hour with no staff and the whole store needs facing up? How often do I start a shift and the waste needs scanning out? How often do I start a shift and the reductions haven't been touched and all chilled back ups need working before delivery arrives? How often do I start a shift and, despite all of this, you're sitting in the office playing a one-man game of thumb-wars?"
The answer to all of this is - three times a week!
All of this I said to him, right there on the shop floor, and more.  I let him know how I had injured myself because I had been so mad at him for what he had said the other night - and let him have it for that too.  After I'd run out of steam, he couldn't look at me. He shuffled his feet and said maybe we should cut the store walk there and he'd carry on with working the delivery.

I gained two extra staff at my next shift.

- Coming up : The Holiday!

Hallowe'en is coming...

It's been a week since our 1st insem of the cycle and we're feeling a little less stressed about this try, which is a good thing as work has chosen to pile it on again. 'Symptom'-wise, it's been pretty minimal: some forgetfulness, increased appetite, moments of queasy-ness and, the one that I find most intriguing, itchy breasts. I'm not counting the mild backache at the moment, despite the fact that it started at about the same time as the queasy-ness. A is off work sick at the moment and I was helping her to move furniture out of the back room in preparation to letting it out.

There's some mixed feelings about letting out the room: the extra money pays half our rent and would leave us free to save more mad-money for our Christmas holiday visiting family in Peru. In a two bedroom flat, it is also quite awkward arranging times when our donor can pop over and we can feel comfortable inseminating without being disturbed by the sound of someone else moving about (although, if I am pregnant this month then this point is mute)

The thing is, I've always been a bit possessive about my space and whilst I'm trying to be a bit more open minded about the idea of a stranger in our home, I'm still not quite as comfortable with it as A is. This is not made any easier by the fact that we had to ask our friend to move out following an incident involving smoking inside (I am vehemently opposed to living with smokers - even if they smoke outside, it still comes in on their clothes and sits in the soft furnishings) We'll just have to see what happens when the first person comes to see the room later today.

Couldn't finish on a negative note, so I'll include some happy thoughts here: babies, rainbows, kittens, Ben & Jerry's phish food (which we've recently re-discovered), winter evenings spent in front of the stove with cocoa, long walks in quiet parks, leaves turning gold, Re-runs of Hocus Pocus and nights at the theatre.

Time I came out

Okay, so here it is: my big confession.
I'm a power rangers fan!

It may seem trivial to some but this show has had a huge impact on my life.

Pre-teen, I didn't exactly have a wide social circle. My class seemed full of loud, boisterous boys and the stereotypical 'popular girls' that I just couldn't understand. I took to reading to keep myself occupied during break times - yes, it didn't help my social standing but as I may have said before, I struggled with anxiety when I was younger and being invisible was far more preferable.

Then Power Rangers started airing. Far from being about heroes in brightly coloured costumes and cool battle robots (don't get me wrong - these were a serious draw too!) it was also about 'teenagers' growing up. The episodes covered issues like learning styles and economic barriers as well as relationships, work, friendship and dedication.

As I moved into primary school (Not familiar with U.S systems but I think it's elementary at age 7/8) I spent a lot of time in the group of boys my student mentor hung out with - and I quickly became popular for my memory recall of power rangers battles and would often be consulted in the middle of games. Hey, I may not have been an 'it' girl but I had found my way in.

As later seasons aired, I was even able to see myself in certain characters, taking their successes as inspiration (not to mention that I developed my first crush on an actress who played a recurring role in a couple of series)

I even sharpened my writing skills over the years by expanding on episodes that left more to the imagination. (Yes, fan-fiction. Everyone has to start somewhere) Through the social networks on which I have published these works, I have met many wonderful, funny, talented people (a number of which I have since come to call close friends) who have taught me to raise my game and look at things in an entirely new way.  I was amazed at the number of LGBT identifying people who use fan-fiction to express themselves (and by how much more sense some of the story lines would have made if certain characters had been gay, for example)

What has prompted this today, you ask?

Today is the twentieth anniversary of the show's first broadcast and I found this:

David Yost poses for NOH8 with a prop version of himself

This is even more cool when you know that David Yost, who played shy, socially awkward genius Billy on the show, was forced to leave the cast due to continued harassment by the production crew that targeted his sexual orientation. Whilst one of the producers later responded that his departure was due to a pay dispute, his outside reasons for leaving the show were never denied. Saban Entertainment never issued an official statement on this issue.

/fansqueal

Counting Rainbows

So, it turns out that this month wasn't going to be our month.
After waiting on hot coals for what feels like forever, I got up one morning (the day of our city's Pride parade, no less) to a raised basal body temperature (bbt) and signs of fertile mucus (ewcm)

We had by that time given up on the likelihood of my ovulating this month and were planning to meet up with R for the Pride day festivities in town.  Needless to say: if this was going to be it, we would probably have to edit our plans a little.  I took an ovulation test around breakfast and then, being me, I took one after lunch just to be sure - both negative, no matter how hard or how long we stared at them. Not even a maybe-tomorrow shadow of a line.

We were disappointed but we're choosing not to dwell on it. The way we see it, we could be in for a long ride and we can't start getting bogged down before we've even had our first attempt. As it was, we went into town and had a great day and our camera is full of photos (like that one on the bar, for example) that we might not have taken. And it's probably for the best that Felix's due date would not be the same week as my birthday. With birthdays so close together in my family growing up, it always seemed more pleasant to have birthdays spread out over the year.

R was also disappointed, when we told him. He's been living the my-body-is-a-temple diet for weeks now and focusing on the fertility boosting foods we've found from our research.  When I asked him if we could buy him a drink at the festival, he smiled and shook his head. "I'm keeping myself in readiness for the next time," he said.  And whilst we assured him that for the next two weeks at least, he could relax his diet a little, he insisted on keeping to the fertility regimen.  Bless his heart.  We have been so lucky to find such a wonderful man as our donor and future uncle to our child.

So whilst this week has had a little disappointment, our life is still full of rainbows.