*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...
Monday, 26 January 2015
Wednesday, 7 January 2015
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.
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.
Monday, 5 January 2015
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....
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....
Saturday, 22 November 2014
The "I'm-too-lazy-to-think-of-a-title" post (34 weeks)
Well, it's six weeks to my due date; and whilst I am technically using my holiday hours up between now and Christmas, to all intents and purposes maternity leave has begun. A is currently in Ireland for her sister's wedding and I am sitting in an empty flat, surrounded by newborn clothes and terry squares (not even born yet and all this washing!)
This week has passed by in that strange fashion of being both too fast and too slow, that anyone who has been in the position of 'use-your-holiday-hours-or-lose-them,' will be familiar with. Days are mostly filled up with daily walks into town to stay limber (with lattes at the end, as a reward - decaf, of course) coming home to laundry and emails, wandering about the house doing nothing in particular and then in bed by 9:30 (mainly because I wake at 2am most days and can't get back to sleep)
At the start of the week, I was staying with my brothers whilst mum was at a wedding (so many in November) and I finally told them about the baby. I arrived late to the house on the Thursday night and mum called my brothers into the front room saying there was something I would like to tell them. When I said I wasn't sure where to start, my stepfather suggested I start where I was and go from there. "About eight months, then?" I tried; immediately J, the older of the two, looked up at me with the beginnings of a grin. M, I had to spell it out for, since he wasn't able to make the connection. Like a number of children on the Autistic spectrum, M sometimes has difficulty with big changes but he took this news quite well, asking questions and thinking of activities he could do with his new niece once she's born. J was obviously trying to play the cool teenager *insert eye-roll* but was actually quite attentive to me all weekend: sitting in the front room with me when he would usually skulk in his room, fetching drinks and snacks for me at regular intervals. Lol, I called M over to feel baby kicking one evening, since he'd expressed an interest, and even though he didn't look up from his x-box game, J subtly shifted closer, just waiting for an invitation to take his turn.
My sister was with us for the weekend too. She actually surprised me with the amount of interest she showed, not really being a baby person herself. I think she may have bought up an entire branch of Mothercare, the number of vests, socks, muslins, and tiny two-piece outfits she presented me with on arrival. She's always said that pregnant bellies freak her out (lol) but she seemed to be okay with my tiny bump. I think it may have made a difference that I always turned away from her when baby's movements were becoming more visible and that because I've always taken care to stay hydrated and keep my skin moisturised*, I still don't have stretch marks.
At last appointment with the midwife, baby and I are both doing well. My blood pressure is back up into 'normal' range, baby's heart rate is perfect and the fundus height (basically a measurement of the uterus, taken from top of the uterus to the pubic bone) is just right. I was asked the usual questions for this stage of pregnancy: daily movement (oooh, yes!) swelling (nope) have we started a birth plan? (first draft done and it's getting reviewed regularly) anything else I'd like to talk about?
...Well, yes. I've recently started wondering if the large itchy rash that I've been struggling with for the past month (that is slowly driving me crazy) could possibly be polymorphic eruption (some people may still know it as PUPPS) Apparently, the midwife was stumped by that one. She looked it up and agreed that it did sound like polymorphic eruption of pregnancy, which typically presents in the third trimester of first pregnancies, but that she'd never seen it before. She says that if it's bothering me, I should talk to my GP about it. I'll see if I can get an appointment on Monday.
The last point we covered was that baby had not turned head down yet. At this stage, it's not a big issue but the midwife says that if baby hasn't turned by our next appointment at the start of December, we will need to book in for a presentation scan to see what she's up to. (I happen to know, based on her daily movements, that the little madam is still turning cartwheels in there; so it can't be obstruction. She just doesn't feel like it yet.)
*in case you are interested btw, I've been using Cussons Mum and Me Bump Stretch Mark Cream twice daily, since week 20 - around the time my bump started to show and my skin first started getting dry and itchy.
This week has passed by in that strange fashion of being both too fast and too slow, that anyone who has been in the position of 'use-your-holiday-hours-or-lose-them,' will be familiar with. Days are mostly filled up with daily walks into town to stay limber (with lattes at the end, as a reward - decaf, of course) coming home to laundry and emails, wandering about the house doing nothing in particular and then in bed by 9:30 (mainly because I wake at 2am most days and can't get back to sleep)
At the start of the week, I was staying with my brothers whilst mum was at a wedding (so many in November) and I finally told them about the baby. I arrived late to the house on the Thursday night and mum called my brothers into the front room saying there was something I would like to tell them. When I said I wasn't sure where to start, my stepfather suggested I start where I was and go from there. "About eight months, then?" I tried; immediately J, the older of the two, looked up at me with the beginnings of a grin. M, I had to spell it out for, since he wasn't able to make the connection. Like a number of children on the Autistic spectrum, M sometimes has difficulty with big changes but he took this news quite well, asking questions and thinking of activities he could do with his new niece once she's born. J was obviously trying to play the cool teenager *insert eye-roll* but was actually quite attentive to me all weekend: sitting in the front room with me when he would usually skulk in his room, fetching drinks and snacks for me at regular intervals. Lol, I called M over to feel baby kicking one evening, since he'd expressed an interest, and even though he didn't look up from his x-box game, J subtly shifted closer, just waiting for an invitation to take his turn.
My sister was with us for the weekend too. She actually surprised me with the amount of interest she showed, not really being a baby person herself. I think she may have bought up an entire branch of Mothercare, the number of vests, socks, muslins, and tiny two-piece outfits she presented me with on arrival. She's always said that pregnant bellies freak her out (lol) but she seemed to be okay with my tiny bump. I think it may have made a difference that I always turned away from her when baby's movements were becoming more visible and that because I've always taken care to stay hydrated and keep my skin moisturised*, I still don't have stretch marks.
At last appointment with the midwife, baby and I are both doing well. My blood pressure is back up into 'normal' range, baby's heart rate is perfect and the fundus height (basically a measurement of the uterus, taken from top of the uterus to the pubic bone) is just right. I was asked the usual questions for this stage of pregnancy: daily movement (oooh, yes!) swelling (nope) have we started a birth plan? (first draft done and it's getting reviewed regularly) anything else I'd like to talk about?
...Well, yes. I've recently started wondering if the large itchy rash that I've been struggling with for the past month (that is slowly driving me crazy) could possibly be polymorphic eruption (some people may still know it as PUPPS) Apparently, the midwife was stumped by that one. She looked it up and agreed that it did sound like polymorphic eruption of pregnancy, which typically presents in the third trimester of first pregnancies, but that she'd never seen it before. She says that if it's bothering me, I should talk to my GP about it. I'll see if I can get an appointment on Monday.
The last point we covered was that baby had not turned head down yet. At this stage, it's not a big issue but the midwife says that if baby hasn't turned by our next appointment at the start of December, we will need to book in for a presentation scan to see what she's up to. (I happen to know, based on her daily movements, that the little madam is still turning cartwheels in there; so it can't be obstruction. She just doesn't feel like it yet.)
*in case you are interested btw, I've been using Cussons Mum and Me Bump Stretch Mark Cream twice daily, since week 20 - around the time my bump started to show and my skin first started getting dry and itchy.
Monday, 3 November 2014
Update (31 weeks 2 days)
Well, I've been meaning to post for a while but between work and getting ready for baby, there hasn't been much energy left to do so. This one's just a quick miscellaneous entry to catch up and I hope to begin posting a bit more reliably once I take annual leave in a couple weeks.
Baby and me: According to the books, baby weighs approximately 4lbs this week and is roughly the size of a pineapple. She's a very active little girl, her busiest periods being at breakfast, lunch, late evening and around 2/3 am.
Symptoms now I'm officially into third trimester include mainly tiredness and breathlessness as baby gets bigger and puts more strain on my body; and I'm peeing a bit more often, though it doesn't really affect day to day life so much at this stage. In the last couple weeks, I've been getting some form of acid reflux. I'm hesitant to call it heartburn, since I only really feel it in my throat, it seems to be at it's worst if I've been for more than 3 hours without eating and it is aggravated by dairy (as I found out when trying to ease it with a milk and honey remedy) At the moment I'm having some success in easing it with peppermint tea.
Parentcraft Class: Birth In October, we attended the first of our parentcraft classes; and in the two hour session on birth, we covered quite a lot of ground. This session was an open class led by our midwife and we were apparently a larger audience than she was used to - about twenty of us in all, mostly couples. The class covered early signs of labour, when to call the midwife/go to the hospital, the process of labour (with some rather amusing props) birthing positions and a discussion on common forms of pain relief.
We were a little disappointed that this was only a two hour session instead of the multi-week course they used to run, feeling we could have benefitted from separate sessions on the various topics covered (as always with the NHS, it came down to funding) but on the whole, we found it to be a positive experience. We went at a pace that covered everything neatly within the session's allotted time with most questions getting answered or referred to an appropriate and accessible source. We liked that time was taken to explain the birthing partner's role and techniques they could use to help at different stages of labour. It was especially comforting to hear the midwife offer honest accounts of her own labour and the experiences she had in supporting other women during theirs.
Bump Band: As my belly finally started to expand (the waistline still oddly narrow in proportion) I took the time to hunt around in town for a support band that would bridge the widening gap between the waistband of my trousers and the hem of my shirt (because I'm far too hot most days to dig out the winter wardrobe) What I hadn't counted on were two things:
1: There are no mother and baby shops in the city centre. You have to drive (or in our case, take the bus) to a shopping mall miles out from the city centre to find so much as a Mothercare. The alternatives for those of us who don't have all day to jump from pillar to post are either go online or hope they carry what you're after in Boots or the maternity corner of one of the department stores (yes, corner. Apparently, it's not worth a full department any more)
2. My size is apparently not big enough to be expected to need a support band. Everywhere I looked, I could find nothing for the smaller bump.
It took three stores and five staff members to eventually find something in my size.
Baby and me: According to the books, baby weighs approximately 4lbs this week and is roughly the size of a pineapple. She's a very active little girl, her busiest periods being at breakfast, lunch, late evening and around 2/3 am.
Symptoms now I'm officially into third trimester include mainly tiredness and breathlessness as baby gets bigger and puts more strain on my body; and I'm peeing a bit more often, though it doesn't really affect day to day life so much at this stage. In the last couple weeks, I've been getting some form of acid reflux. I'm hesitant to call it heartburn, since I only really feel it in my throat, it seems to be at it's worst if I've been for more than 3 hours without eating and it is aggravated by dairy (as I found out when trying to ease it with a milk and honey remedy) At the moment I'm having some success in easing it with peppermint tea.
Parentcraft Class: Birth In October, we attended the first of our parentcraft classes; and in the two hour session on birth, we covered quite a lot of ground. This session was an open class led by our midwife and we were apparently a larger audience than she was used to - about twenty of us in all, mostly couples. The class covered early signs of labour, when to call the midwife/go to the hospital, the process of labour (with some rather amusing props) birthing positions and a discussion on common forms of pain relief.
We were a little disappointed that this was only a two hour session instead of the multi-week course they used to run, feeling we could have benefitted from separate sessions on the various topics covered (as always with the NHS, it came down to funding) but on the whole, we found it to be a positive experience. We went at a pace that covered everything neatly within the session's allotted time with most questions getting answered or referred to an appropriate and accessible source. We liked that time was taken to explain the birthing partner's role and techniques they could use to help at different stages of labour. It was especially comforting to hear the midwife offer honest accounts of her own labour and the experiences she had in supporting other women during theirs.
Bump Band: As my belly finally started to expand (the waistline still oddly narrow in proportion) I took the time to hunt around in town for a support band that would bridge the widening gap between the waistband of my trousers and the hem of my shirt (because I'm far too hot most days to dig out the winter wardrobe) What I hadn't counted on were two things:
1: There are no mother and baby shops in the city centre. You have to drive (or in our case, take the bus) to a shopping mall miles out from the city centre to find so much as a Mothercare. The alternatives for those of us who don't have all day to jump from pillar to post are either go online or hope they carry what you're after in Boots or the maternity corner of one of the department stores (yes, corner. Apparently, it's not worth a full department any more)
2. My size is apparently not big enough to be expected to need a support band. Everywhere I looked, I could find nothing for the smaller bump.
It took three stores and five staff members to eventually find something in my size.
Monday, 29 September 2014
Stepping out with our baby (Bump!) - 26 weeks 2 days
Week 26, and our baby is now the size of a head of lettuce (or, since she's measuring small, maybe a large cauliflower) By the end of the week, we will be rounding into third (trimester, that is) and we will have entered into that magic phase where baby's chances of survival, should she be born prematurely, raise to a very acceptable 80 - 95% (depending on various factors)
As to me, I'm feeling a little more sluggish recently. I've been sleeping in a little more, running around a little less during the day and often falling asleep in my chair towards the end of the evening. This week, I have been experiencing hot flushes more often, which are certainly no fun when I'm stuck wearing a fleece to protect baby from the cold atmosphere of our store. And I've had frequent moments of light headedness during the day, despite my blood pressure raising to more comfortable levels. At this stage, I'm feeling very grateful that I have such a supportive partner and for the care and consideration of my colleagues.
Finally got in our consultant's appointment on the last day of week 25. I went on my own for this one, since it was mainly to do with my health and less about the baby's. We had a short discussion about the reasons I had been referred (namely my kidney and the family history of diabetes) and I had blood drawn to assess kidney function. It will be another week before we know the lab results but when I mentioned that we were hoping to transfer to the birthing centre, she [the consultant] didn't say anything discouraging. In fact, she was quite enthusiastic about the experience there, with only a minor mention of transfer times if medical intervention should become necessary and the fact that epidurals are not an option there.
Obviously, we can't say for sure what the birth experience will be like for us. I know that it's possible to get some idea by looking at my mother's birth experiences (the ones that were delivered naturally, anyway) and on the whole, it looks promising if genetics are any indicator. All my mothers pregnancies were strong and healthy (which is good, since my first seems to be mirroring hers) As far as girls are concerned, both I and my sister were significantly smaller than average (approximately the same as little Felix is estimated to be) and were delivered in under an hour on gas and air. In ideal circumstances, I would most like to have a home birth (although A prefers the idea of having medical assistance close to hand) The NHS is very discouraging of home births for first time mothers - and I can understand their point of view, I'm not completely without common sense - but still, I would feel much more comfortable with an experience as close to a home birth as we can get. And that is why it means so much to us, me in particular, to get that transfer. The birthing centre is a home from home. They even have beds available for partners to stay over. The transfer time is currently under 30 mins, if medical intervention were required - which we both consider acceptable - and as to epidural...I'm pretty squeamish still about epi, spinal block and the like.
On the birth plan we've started to draw up, we've decided to have an open mind on the subject of pain relief. We've stated that we are willing to follow medical advice wherever necessary for the health of myself and the baby but that we would rather pain meds not extend to procedures which restrict my movement. I've never liked being on my back and feel something close to anxiety if I'm in that position for more than a moment or two. I also believe that this is certainly not the most effective position for birthing. We are currently researching active birthing classes in our area.
As to me, I'm feeling a little more sluggish recently. I've been sleeping in a little more, running around a little less during the day and often falling asleep in my chair towards the end of the evening. This week, I have been experiencing hot flushes more often, which are certainly no fun when I'm stuck wearing a fleece to protect baby from the cold atmosphere of our store. And I've had frequent moments of light headedness during the day, despite my blood pressure raising to more comfortable levels. At this stage, I'm feeling very grateful that I have such a supportive partner and for the care and consideration of my colleagues.
Finally got in our consultant's appointment on the last day of week 25. I went on my own for this one, since it was mainly to do with my health and less about the baby's. We had a short discussion about the reasons I had been referred (namely my kidney and the family history of diabetes) and I had blood drawn to assess kidney function. It will be another week before we know the lab results but when I mentioned that we were hoping to transfer to the birthing centre, she [the consultant] didn't say anything discouraging. In fact, she was quite enthusiastic about the experience there, with only a minor mention of transfer times if medical intervention should become necessary and the fact that epidurals are not an option there.
Obviously, we can't say for sure what the birth experience will be like for us. I know that it's possible to get some idea by looking at my mother's birth experiences (the ones that were delivered naturally, anyway) and on the whole, it looks promising if genetics are any indicator. All my mothers pregnancies were strong and healthy (which is good, since my first seems to be mirroring hers) As far as girls are concerned, both I and my sister were significantly smaller than average (approximately the same as little Felix is estimated to be) and were delivered in under an hour on gas and air. In ideal circumstances, I would most like to have a home birth (although A prefers the idea of having medical assistance close to hand) The NHS is very discouraging of home births for first time mothers - and I can understand their point of view, I'm not completely without common sense - but still, I would feel much more comfortable with an experience as close to a home birth as we can get. And that is why it means so much to us, me in particular, to get that transfer. The birthing centre is a home from home. They even have beds available for partners to stay over. The transfer time is currently under 30 mins, if medical intervention were required - which we both consider acceptable - and as to epidural...I'm pretty squeamish still about epi, spinal block and the like.
On the birth plan we've started to draw up, we've decided to have an open mind on the subject of pain relief. We've stated that we are willing to follow medical advice wherever necessary for the health of myself and the baby but that we would rather pain meds not extend to procedures which restrict my movement. I've never liked being on my back and feel something close to anxiety if I'm in that position for more than a moment or two. I also believe that this is certainly not the most effective position for birthing. We are currently researching active birthing classes in our area.
Friday, 19 September 2014
Getting into the flow (24 weeks 6 days)
And wonder of wonders, we have a bump!
I discovered the evidence of an expanding tummy earlier this week. Feeling hormonal from work stress and lack of sleep, I turned to A looking for love and sympathy. Well, what I actually did was walk out of the bedroom, moaning "my zipper wont stay up. I'm getting faaaatttt!"
And A - my wonderful, sensitive, loyal partner. The woman I plan to spend the rest of my days with and raise children with. The love of my life - replied: "Don't complain. You wanted a belly and now you have one." Hands up. Who can spot the clanger that set the hormonal pregnant lady off?
(For the record, A did later apologise and offer cheesecake in penance)
But to add insult to injury - later that day, the button holding up my trousers flew off and I was forced to suffer the indignity of asking the boss if he had a spare safety pin.
For the rest of the working week, I've had to make do with a pair of trousers from home that still fit me. The maternity trousers our company provides are clearly designed by a man: they are basically regular size trousers with a ginormous non-elasticated waistband. Even with the understanding that I'm going to get bigger, I think it's pretty clear by now that I'm never going to reach those proportions. And even if I did, I would still want an elasticated waistband.
So far, it's only my work trousers that I have had to give up (thanks to a life-long preference for 'boys fit' clothes, I have plenty of room in most outfits) but as time marches on, I'm planning on buying belly bands to make my regular clothes last a bit longer.
In other news, we had an appointment with the midwife (W) on Tuesday. We had to breeze through things as we had arrived late but we did get to hear baby's heartbeat for the first time. We're starting to figure out that now she has full range of movement, she really doesn't like being spied on and will do everything she can to make it harder to check in on her. The minute the Doppler hit my belly, she was twisting and turning cartwheels and kicking at the source of her frustration with everything she had. We all had a laugh at how stubborn she could be. Eventually, we got to hear a few moments of healthy heartbeat that satisfied W and left A and I in tears.
During that whistle-stop appointment, we had the usual urine and blood pressure checks, and W asked about fetal movement. For the moment, all that is important is establishing that there is some daily movement, which we get plenty of. Baby has recently graduated to hiccups, which means that she has started breathing and swallowing amniotic fluid in preparation for the outside world. She gets them a lot and seems to blame me for them, as I get a tiny foot in my gut right after each one. My blood pressure has changed from booking in: from 110/72 to 98/62, which is healthy but slightly low which may mean I'll be feeling light headed and/or dizzy and may lead to passing out. This isn't a problem. I've had periods of low blood pressure on account of my one kidney for as long as I can remember. W (and mum) recommend I avoid taking long, warm baths on my own for a while (which is a shame, as it's something I've always enjoyed. Still, safety first.)
We also asked again about transferring to the birthing centre and were told that it would have to be reviewed further into third trimester (which is just around the corner!)
I discovered the evidence of an expanding tummy earlier this week. Feeling hormonal from work stress and lack of sleep, I turned to A looking for love and sympathy. Well, what I actually did was walk out of the bedroom, moaning "my zipper wont stay up. I'm getting faaaatttt!"
And A - my wonderful, sensitive, loyal partner. The woman I plan to spend the rest of my days with and raise children with. The love of my life - replied: "Don't complain. You wanted a belly and now you have one." Hands up. Who can spot the clanger that set the hormonal pregnant lady off?
(For the record, A did later apologise and offer cheesecake in penance)
But to add insult to injury - later that day, the button holding up my trousers flew off and I was forced to suffer the indignity of asking the boss if he had a spare safety pin.
For the rest of the working week, I've had to make do with a pair of trousers from home that still fit me. The maternity trousers our company provides are clearly designed by a man: they are basically regular size trousers with a ginormous non-elasticated waistband. Even with the understanding that I'm going to get bigger, I think it's pretty clear by now that I'm never going to reach those proportions. And even if I did, I would still want an elasticated waistband.
So far, it's only my work trousers that I have had to give up (thanks to a life-long preference for 'boys fit' clothes, I have plenty of room in most outfits) but as time marches on, I'm planning on buying belly bands to make my regular clothes last a bit longer.
In other news, we had an appointment with the midwife (W) on Tuesday. We had to breeze through things as we had arrived late but we did get to hear baby's heartbeat for the first time. We're starting to figure out that now she has full range of movement, she really doesn't like being spied on and will do everything she can to make it harder to check in on her. The minute the Doppler hit my belly, she was twisting and turning cartwheels and kicking at the source of her frustration with everything she had. We all had a laugh at how stubborn she could be. Eventually, we got to hear a few moments of healthy heartbeat that satisfied W and left A and I in tears.
During that whistle-stop appointment, we had the usual urine and blood pressure checks, and W asked about fetal movement. For the moment, all that is important is establishing that there is some daily movement, which we get plenty of. Baby has recently graduated to hiccups, which means that she has started breathing and swallowing amniotic fluid in preparation for the outside world. She gets them a lot and seems to blame me for them, as I get a tiny foot in my gut right after each one. My blood pressure has changed from booking in: from 110/72 to 98/62, which is healthy but slightly low which may mean I'll be feeling light headed and/or dizzy and may lead to passing out. This isn't a problem. I've had periods of low blood pressure on account of my one kidney for as long as I can remember. W (and mum) recommend I avoid taking long, warm baths on my own for a while (which is a shame, as it's something I've always enjoyed. Still, safety first.)
We also asked again about transferring to the birthing centre and were told that it would have to be reviewed further into third trimester (which is just around the corner!)
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