my-speck

i'm pregnant and it's going to be a rollercoaster

Antenatal classes Mark 2#. And these iron tablets do really make me farty. April 10, 2009

Filed under: baby stuff,birthing,cooking,dreams,emotion,healthcare — rakster @ 10:33 am
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Hi Speck,

Its Easter friday!  Yay for holidays.  I’m baking almond and chocolate friands to take to your Grandma K’s for an easter get together.  Your dad is doing his usual interfering and telling me my oven is too hot (despite the fact I’ve never seen him cook any cake except cheesecake in his life).  He’s just a know-all.

almond chocolate friands

almond chocolate friands

So.  Last night was antenatal classes Mark 2.  This time with a midwife instead of with a physio.  Actually learnt a lot.  Which was good – the time went quickly rather than slowly.  The class was about introducing us to the three stages of labour, and talking about when we should think about phoning the birthing ward to come to hospital.  We had a tour of a birthing suite and watched a few videos of babies being born.  Lots of things to think about. I cried watching the videos.  I’m still really emotional and I got a bit scared and excited and happy all at the same time.  Luckily I was at the back of the room so it was only your dad, the couple beside me and the midwife who noticed tears streaming down my cheeks.  Its strange to not have any real idea what is going to happen to you and how you will cope, and not have much control over it all.  It could all go smoothly and then we get to choose some things, or it could all go a bit not as expected in which case we relinquish control to a bunch of health-care professionals.  I could just lose it and go crazy in the middle of it all.  Who knows.  Maybe I’ll get to transition stage and just be adamant that I’m going to pack up and go home and pretend there is no baby business happening at all.

Anyway, I’m glad I took a notebook, as everyone had lots of questions and the class was good in that it was relatively unstructured and the midwife was thorough in her answers.  I wrote down a bunch of things I wanted to find out more about; things to ask and talk to our obstetrician about (gee, who knew that some of them still want you to get up onto the bed and be prone when you’re actually pushing the baby out in the second stage – I thought things had moved on – maybe not – gee I hope ours lets us do it however feels best for me); things for your dad and I to decide (do you need a vitamin K injection and Hep B as soon as you’re born?); and just general stuff that I thought I’d forget.   We walked to the hospital again but it was raining on the way home so we taxied.  May have to rethink the walking to the hospital idea just ’cause your dad will be in charge of bringing all the stuff along.  But maybe we can still do it just with our birthing bag, and someone can bring the rest later?  Mmm..   Anyway, I think the most important things to remember from the class was the phone number of the birth suite and basically if you get any body fluids happening then phone them.  Got it.  Phone them.  Your dad put the number in his phone.  Hopefully he can find his phone when the time comes.  I might just write the number on the whiteboard too.

When we got home we had a chat about some of the things they talked about at the hospital.  I think both of us think that since we’re so close (literally 10 minutes walk) that we don’t have to worry about traffic or anything, so we should be ok to stay at home if everything is going well for quite a while.   Yes, the hospital is brand new and the rooms are big and spacious, and pretty nice, but its still a hospital with linoleum floors and unnatural lighting and lots of equipment and not much to look at.   I think if we are in first stage of labour for a long time it would be much nicer to be at home if we’re comfortable with that.  We can have whoever we like there, we have our own creature comforts, and there is more to do and look at.   But, who knows.  We may panic in the throws of pain and think its all happening much faster than it is, or be uncomfortable at home, and then just trip on in really early.

Yep, so of course I dreamed about you arriving again last night.  This time it was more focussed on your birth.  I was on all fours on the ground a lot, near a hand-wash basin for some reason, during a lot of the labour.  It was kinda painful but rhythmic.  I remember thinking oh, there it goes again and feeling it just going of its own accord.  Then I was squatting on the side of a chair and you came out, all slimey and red and with a lot of white vernix all over you.  You had blackish hair plastered to your head, but not too much, just some.    Your head was squished and a bit oblong.  And this time you were a boy and I definitely sighted your genitalia.   For some reason when you were born I actually forgot to see if you were a boy or a girl and I remember asking people a few minutes later and they were all surprised I hadn’t worked out or checked that you were a boy already.  I remember just being glad that you were out and you were healthy.

This dream went on and on and on.  I woke up and one point and I’m pretty sure I told your dad about it then went back to sleep and continued on with the same dream.  Until you woke me at 6:30 with some strong stomach pounding.

Going to get non-burnt friands from oven and go for morning tea.

Love you

mum

P.s. Oh yeah, side effect of these iron tablets seem to be even worse gas than I had previously.  I read a bit on the web and there are a bunch of women on forums who say this has happened to them too.  And some of them say the smell is really bad.  I haven’t noticed that yet thankfully, but it means I have to be very careful.  I was like a ticking time bomb during the antenatal classes.  I didn’t make it out of the room a few times and let loose big loud ones.  The tour of the hospital and where to park was a good diversion as we were outside and I could lag behind the group.  But sitting still and watching videos as I felt like I might float out of my chair was trying.  Your dad was peeing himself with laughter and kept telling me to go to the toilet (again, helpful if you know you need to fart but they come on very quickly and are very large and frequent.  So I would be like a yo-you back and forth.  My policy is hold them in and then do it all at once in the toilet).

 

The birthing suite experience – Fawlty Towers couldn't have done it better… February 16, 2009

Filed under: birthing,emotion,healthcare,pregnancy — rakster @ 4:06 pm
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Hi Speck,

So, your dad doesn’t want me to write about this, because he thinks that it might worry people (who read my letters to you) unnecessarily. I think though, on reflection, that it’s part of being pregnant and I want to tell you about it. And there were some funny moments.

We had planned to get to Dunedin yesterday and catch up with J & J for the afternoon, which, especially as we haven’t seen them at length in a coupla years, we were both looking forward to.   But it didn’t quite work out that way. We got an extended stay in one of the birthing suites at Dunedin’s hospital, St Mary’s, instead. I wanted to take photos at the time but your dad was pretty stressed out and didn’t want me to, so no pictures for you, just the story.

I had a little bit of bleeding which started on Saturday afternoon. It wasn’t a massive amount, so I wasn’t worried about it, as I’ve read that lots of women get bleeding sometimes during their pregnancies.  And I read a forum that people who are due in the same two weeks as me post on, and lots of them have had bleeding episodes, and so I know its pretty common and usually, once you’re past week 12 or so, works out fine.   Since you’re now 21 weeks closer to joining us than when you were first being prepared by my body as a little polyp waiting to burst forth into an egg, I wasn’t too concerned cause you’ve got yourself well settled and my last scan showed that my placenta was anterior and more importantly, high; also, my cervix was shown as fully closed.   Apparently the placenta being low and having bleeding is generally more of a worry.   But, you have a good spot, which is important, and I knew that so wasn’t too worried.

Went to bed on Saturday night and felt fine, so all good. But by Sunday afternoon, after flying from Christchurch to Dunedin and getting to our hotel, I was still bleeding a little and a little bit worried. I was feeling perfectly healthy and hadn’t had any cramping, sickness or other bad signs, but your dad and I just wanted to check, especially as we were planning on heading off on a cycling trip on Monday. We both thought that getting on bikes and heading into the NZ Central Otago region where there aren’t too many doctors was perhaps best done after we got some medical advice.

We thus tramped through Dunedin to the 24hr medical clinic, where we didn’t have to wait long before we were seen by an absolutely lovely and thorough female GP. She took a history and read the little pregnancy history card that I now carry with me everywhere. After a quick external feel of my uterus (which by the way she said was ‘a cute little shape – sticks right out and is very round like you swallowed a ball’), she got the little ultrasoundy/doppler machine going and checked your heartbeat. Which was, as expected, all normal and good.   Again, she explained this was a good sign as you weren’t distressed or worried about what was happening.  She then phoned the hospital and had a chat to the obs registrar, who suggested we should come in for a check. Which is how we ended up in a birthing suite at Dunedin’s hospital.

St Mary’s has a number of birthing suites, a few of which were occupied with women, who, from the sounds we could hear, were in various stages of labour.   We were put in one at the end of the ward.  A big room decorated in hospital green and more green.  With a shower and toilet, a single hospital bed and a couch.  The furniture was dwarfed by the size of the room.   Clean but old.   I had a bit of a cry at that point, as that’s when it became pretty real to me that something might be wrong.   I was ok before that, it just hit me for a few minutes.  After a quick cry I was feeling better again.   But hungry as we had missed lunch.   Your dad thankfully managed to get to the cafeteria and back before the midwife looking after us made it in. Thankfully because after asking us a few questions she immediately placed us under ‘quarantine’.   Apparently the South island of New Zealand and St Mary’s are the only places on Earth where the superbug MRSA (or something like that) hasn’t yet reached.  And as I’ve been admitted to hospital in Australia in the past six months, until proven that I don’t harbour the bug I need to be quarantined… So quarantining meant that the door was shut, no-one allowed to visit (small chance of that anyway), and any medical staff having to be gowned and gloved in disposable plastic stuff before they came in the room. A bit novel. I then had to swab a bunch of my orifices so they could test them for said superbug.   Your dad got quarantined with me.

Again, as there are no photos, you’ll have to picture it.  Me and your dad in a big green hospital room.  For hours.  Waiting for the doctors to be free.  Apparently there were some births with complications (twins and other stuff) happening.   We had our books and a yahtzee game, so we passed the time ok.    But the door was closed and we weren’t allowed out.   And there were some interesting noises coming from the other rooms.  I use ‘interesting’ in a broad sense.   More like very loud distressing screaming at regular intervals.  It kinda freaked me out but I was strangely calm at the same time.   Your dad listened intently, then remarked, “She’s doing it wrong.  According to the Janet Balaskas Active Birthing book you’re supposed to work WITH the pain.  Not against it.”  Ha.  On one hand I was pleased – he’s obviously read the book from cover to cover (which is good cause I asked him to and it might help when you come).   On the other hand, if he says anything like that to me when I’m trying to get you out I suspect I will try to deck him.

After a while a nurse came and took some blood to go and test to make sure your blood wasn’t in my blood, or something like that (protein testing); and some other things.  I forget.  She missed my vein and was really bad at it.  But nice in person.   I coped.   I would have passed out from that a few months ago, but the common taking blood thing is starting to make me slightly more used to it.  She went away.  After a few hours, the intern doctor on rotation came to take my medical history.   She was obviously new, and not an obstetrics person, ’cause she asked some funny things and didn’t know stuff like that you can tell which ovary the baby comes from if you get an early ultrasound (you came from the right).

When the doctor finally arrived, she was a lovely but slightly distracted-seeming woman who had obviously had a long day.  The intern was in-tow.   And what followed was what I’d write as a comedy skit about obstetricians if I were to write one.  Picture two doctors, both of whom are distracted and keep forgetting they are supposed to be in quarantine.   There were at least 9 changes of gloves for the main doctor as she starts to examine me, then changes to surgical gloves,  changes back to non-surgical gloves, thows them, forgets new ones, swears when she remembers, gets new gloves, throws gloves as she thinks she’s finished, then I remind her that she told me she was going to do ‘x’, she recalls, forgets gloves, swears, gets new gloves.  Repeat repeat repeat.   Add to the distraction a non-functioning or poorly functioning light.  Picture me on bed with legs up and two doctors crawling around on floor trying to peer up my fanny:   Main Doctor:  “well, this light is terrible. Can’t see a thing.  Can you see anything?”;  Intern:  “no, can’t see anything”. Etcetera.   I felt like I was in a Fawlty Towers episode:  “Visit to the doctor”.  Me trying to breathe cause it was a bit painful, but at the same time almost having an out of body experience when I can see how comical the situation is if it weren’t so serious.  Your dad alternately trying to comfort me and not be alarmed at the circus going on at the bottom of the bed.

After a lot of gloves, a lot of discussion and lots of feeling around, we determined that we had no idea where the blood was coming from but there didn’t seem to be too much.  We had a look at you on the ultrasound and you looked happy and good, and again your heartbeat was fine, as was my bloodpressure etc.  And my cervix was still sealed.   Did a little test which looked a bit like a litmus test on a long cottonbud which indicated that there was no amniotic fluid leaking out.  A good thing, cause the doctor explained that the hospital had a policy of non-intervention if you decided to come along early before the week 24 mark.   Which didn’t give you much of a chance if that was what was happening.  So amniotic fluid would have been bad.  But there wasn’t any.   And the blood was slowing.

Didn’t ever find out if I had the superbug as those tests didn’t come back before I was finally discharged.   Doctor said all was good, just probably a bit of random bleeding, which is pretty common.   She said that the bike riding wouldn’t affect it or worsen it at all, but of course if anything happened to come back into the hospital if needed.  And whatever they did seemed to make it stop.

So, your and my first birthing suite experience.  Hopefully no more until you actually join us.  Though we could make like a general tour of hospitals around Australia and NZ and do a comparative review….

love you.  we’re glad you’re ok.

mum

 

Happy 16 weeks! 4 months. OMG its going so fast! Yoga, cookie / biscuit cravings and more. January 9, 2009

Filed under: baby's feelings,birthing,development stages,eating,exercise,pregnancy — rakster @ 12:17 pm
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Hello Speck!

I am feeling horrendous again today.  I think it was the wheatbran I had on my yoghurt for breakfast.  It just gave me a stomach full of gas.  I’m resembling a human drum again.  Unbelievably painful. Erk.

Enough of me.  What of you???  Well, yesterday you were 16 weeks way through your uterus-living phase.  4 months! OMG.  Only 4 weeks to go and we are at 20 weeks which is halfway!  That is crazy.  It seems to be slipping by very quickly now.   According to Kaz this week you are 11.5 cm long. And even more shocking, when I just opened a packet of gas-ease type of things I got in a baby sample bag from the hospital yesterday there was a bit of ruler/paper thing that opened out to show how big you would get each week and it says you’re going to get to 52 cm long when you’re born. That is just horrendous. How the hell do you fit inside my stomach if you’re that big???  It just doesn’t make sense. I’m only 162cm tall, so I just don’t see, even if you are curled-up in foetal position, ball-like, how 52cm of you can possibly fit in any space inside my stomach. Even if my body was different to all other humans and let you start to fill the big chunky spaces in the tops of my thighs. Well, maybe then, if one of your legs went down each of my legs… Enough of that though, that is impossible. You’re just going to have to limit your growth to a more reasonable size. Think of small and round and healthy and happy rather than long and lanky. I am going to look like a beach ball though, aren’t I? No matter what happens.

Apart from your size, this week you are supposed to be growing toenails. Toenails huh? Hopefully you’ll get your dad’s type of toenails and not mine. Mine are misshapen and not suited to women’s shoes at all. Your dad’s are much neater, standard and consistently sized. You should also be getting lanugo (downy hair) starting to grow all over your body. I trust this is happening. Most alien movies I’ve seen the babies and aliens don’t have much body hair, so I guess that if you get this hair I might start to think of you less as an alien and more like a person. Good luck with that too.

I had a big baby day yesterday, in and around working. Your dad and I toured the maternity ward of the hospital here in Sydney that you’re booked into. Hopefully we won’t be using it unless you come early, but best to have an option in case that does happen. Your dad got really excited and looked extremely happy (read grin from ear to ear) whenever we walked past dads holding tiny little bundles walking around the ward. In fact, we didn’t see any new mums, just 5 or so new dads with tiny bundles. I got a bit scared looking at all the medical equipment. The rooms / birthing suites were nice and big with lots of room, but were still pretty boring. Your dad and I agreed that even though there is a spa bath in them, it would be better to hang out at home for as long as possible cause the idea of being in a green room with low ceilings, fluoro lights and lots of medical bits and pieces for hours and hours, even if there is an exercise ball and bean bag, wasn’t that appealing. We might not have that choice depending on what happens, but home sounds more comfy. It was a pretty chilled-out feeling place though compared to other wards I’ve been to in the hospital. All in all, ok.

Next baby thing was that unfortunately we missed out on the ballot for the Natural Birthing centre spot at the RWBH. I think I mentioned that we entered in it before. Anyway, that means that we have to have the baby somewhere else. Which makes the decision we were going to have to consider about private vs public for us. And means that we’re planning to have you at the Mater in Brisvegas, where all your aunts and uncles on my side of the family were born (apart from aunt 2 who was at home). And where I was born. And its close to our house in Brisvegas, so even if there is a traffic jam I think we could walk there if you were on your way. Your dad and I are happy with this – we entered the birthing centre draw so that we had an option or two to consider, but it will work out this way too.

Speaking of jam, I started getting cravings for Jam Drops again yesterday. I notice your numpty grandmother has posted a recipe for me in the comments from last post to you, but its the wrong one. Who makes jam drops with a madeira recipe? I think I can make up the one I made before, so I might just have to do that. It was basically flour, butter, sugar and milk and jam. I’ll give it a go. Strange thing to crave, but there it is. Thanks anyway grandmother. I might try those another time but I’m really after the same thing as last time. Speck you like them, I can tell, otherwise you wouldn’t be making me have cravings.

I didn’t feel you last night / this morning, but pretty sure you got very active during and after yesterday’s very strenuous yoga workout.  First organised antenatal yoga class.  It was quite good – though I think you and I would have struggled had I not gone to yoga classes before and understood a lot of the poses from previous yoga experiences. There were only two other women in the class and they were both 16 weeks and in their first class too. I found myself perhaps not so discretely checking out (read: trying hard not to openly stare at all opportunities) their baby bumps. Mine was I think the least noticeable, though I don’t think the smallest. One of the women was tiny tiny, so her bump, while small, really stood out.

Pregnant Yoga Take One: to me, it felt really different being pregnant and doing some of the poses. I could really tell my centre of gravity was different with you down there. And I was really aware that there was a section of my abdomen area that didn’t stretch or respond to some of the poses in the way it used to. And some bits that are normally really flexible and fine were a little tender (like the groin area, though that could have been from all the cycling and frisbee but it was so pronounced I reckon it is shifting stuff around that area). Another thing I noticed was how sore my feet got afterwards. I really worked out the arches. Could be just ’cause I haven’t done it in so long, but I suspect the additional kgs I’m having to support makes a difference too. It felt really good though. I liked being aware of you down there. My breathing when doing it really moves up and down the spine a bit more and pushes out the abdomen to an exaggerated extent from normal. I guess it will get much harder to breathe as you get bigger. The instructor said that when you’re much bigger you’ll most likely join in on some of the poses and do some kicking and moving of your own, and that if you move around too much or head to one side of the uterus then my balance will be off and it will be hard to hold some of the poses. I look foward to that. Your grandmother was in charge of finding me somewhere local to go in Brisbane from April onwards. Hope she remembered.

Anyway, must run, stuff to do. Thinking of you down there with your toenails and hair.

love mum