Hey Speck,
well, no morning sickness at all yet, though I am very tired. Though that could just be because I’m stressed. Too much to do at work and behind in my uni work (again). I just don’t know when I’ll have time to catch up, because we’re off to Brisvegas tonight for the weekend and it will be pretty busy. I need to fit some research on my assignment in there somewhere though.
I’m still worried about you, but kinda resigned to just having to wait and see. Keep it up.
love you.
-mum
Dear Speck,
hiya down there. We’ve just been for the scan. Are you ok? I hope so. Still not sure.
We went to the clinic and I managed to scull about a litre of water in the taxi on the way from work because I’d forgotten to drink a bunch beforehand. You’re supposed to have a full bladder for the first part of the examination to make it easier to see. Well, I’m not sure that much of it made it to my bladder but I had drunk so much I felt ill. My own fault. Next time I’ll be better prepared. I met your dad at the clinic and we went in to see the technician.
We were there for a ‘dating and viability’ scan. But apparently they do expect you to know such things as the exact day your last period started, and how long your normal cycle is. So the ‘dating’ and viability part only works out if they know approximately how old you should be. And I really don’t know. Basically we could see a dark area which the technician said was ‘a pregnancy’, but it was difficult to gauge if everything is going ok, or if its not. She thought you were a size that indicated you were about 5 weeks old, which didn’t quite tally with the dates I thought about. They date you from the first day of your last period, and since I’m not 100% sure, it was a bit difficult.
The short of it is that you’re only about 5 weeks old, or you’re too small for your age. Its a bit scary. You are in the right spot though, there is a gestation sac that you look like you’re in (though we couldn’t see you, just the sac). So I’m pretty worried. We tried to work backwards again, but its hard to work out exactly when I had my last period, because I had just had an operation, we went on holidays, and all of those things (read – mum not so good at keeping track of things like dates and regularity of period etc. I mean really, its annoying at the best of times, I try not to think about it or let it impact my life as much as possible). Optimistically, I definitely had my period on the 13th, so by that measure you are only just 5.5 weeks old, which tallies with how big and developed you were on the scan. But I thought it was a few days before that. I thought it was more like the 8th, which puts you just over 6 weeks… I guess its only a week, and your Dad thinks that maybe you floated around looking for a comfy spot to land for a long time. Sometimes it can take up to 7 days, he’s read, so perhaps you’re just a young 5-6 weeks. And perfectly sized. I hope so.
Anyway, I’m going to keep eating well for you. We already have an appointment with the GP in 5 days time, on Monday, and we’ve optimistically made an appointment for another ultrasound to see how big you are in two weeks time. I hope you’re ok.
love you! (even though you’re tiny).
mum
Hiya you,
Are you as tired as I am? I’m trying desperately to stay awake at work while people in the meeting I’m in seek for my input on scintilating topics like subscriber migrations and number management.
I have a meeting tonight after work with my uni assignment group, not sure that I’ll be any use at all!
Dear Speck,
Hi, work today (I’m on lunch – and yes, I’m eating healthily – a hommus & salad sandwich). Maybe I’m just overtired, but I am finding it more difficult than normal to concentrate & focus on what I need to do while I’m here today. I’m pretty worried about what we’ll see when we try to take a look at you on Wednesday. Are you in the right spot? Have you got a head and a tail? What will they actually see?
I caught the bus and train to work today. I was originally planning on riding my bike again from this week (7 weeks after the operation) but all the things I’ve read on the internet and in books about exercise and what I’m allowed to do with you aren’t 100% clear. Apparently if I overheat for a long time this can be really bad for you, so I should limit myself to moderate exercise. Generally my daily commute over the Anzac and the Sydney Harbour Bridge takes a good 45 minutes each way and is a hard slog. There are a lot of hills. So I want to see how you are doing on Wednesday, then talk to the doctor about whether taking you on this daily journey is going to be ok. Hopefully it will be ok at least for a little while longer – I enjoy my daily ride. I’ve got an appointment with the GP on Monday. So, for the rest of this week I think I’ll walk home from the city to get some exercise.
Funny I was talking to your Dad yesterday about cycling, and he was surprised when I suggested it might be difficult for me to ride because my centre of balance will change. I guess he forgot that you are going to grow into a large round thing that protrudes from my mid-section. He’s really keen for you to come and join us but I suspect he severley underestimates the impact you’re going to have on our lives. A welcome impact, I should clarify, but I think it is going to be SO much bigger than he thinks. I suspect this cause he’s not always that understanding of other people & the way they deal with their children – sometimes he’s a little quick to judge or say, “we won’t do that”, when I think you can’t know the whole story & also what is happening for them. Perhaps thats just me being paranoid & judging him as a stereotypical boy. But I think that its just different. And maybe I’m being a bit oversensitive & over-the-top. Anyway, you’ll love him, he’s a great person & he’ll be an amazing dad. I’m a bit worried about you but you shouldn’t be. If you do come out with 4 legs and 3 arms – your Dad will come up with a special game just for you – I’m sure of it!
So. Lunch break over. Going to go and do some real work…
love you!
mum
ps. my stomach was sore last night, I think it was your fault – please desist from whatever it was that you were doing. It felt like you were trying to climb out of my belly button. I did sleep better overall though so perhaps you’ll be better rested too and therefore gentler tonight.
Hello Speck! Sunday today – relaxing in the garden.
Well, blood tests on Friday showed that something is definitely there which is making me produce pregnancy hormones. I do hope its you (see, still in slight shock / denial)!
Apparently there was about a measure of 500 somethings. The doctor told me this doubles every day. Normal levels are less than 50? I could have that all wrong. But basically it means you’re there, and I need to wait a few more days until you’re a bit bigger before I go and get a “viability” check. That sounds scary, and I think it is really. But I guess we just have to wait & see. That’s on Wednesday.
Yesterday I did my corporate finance mid-semester exam, which surprisingly wasn’t too hard. I managed to concentrate for 2.5 hours and only thought about you about 10 times in that 2.5 hour period. In between net present value calculations. Fun. Finished that, then your dad came and picked me up and we to the bookshop and bought the Kaz Cooke “Up the Duff” book which I’ve seen at other people’s houses; went car shopping (we nearly bought a new one in the heat of the moment but I think wisely decided we were rushing into things & needed some time to think); and then we went over to Coogee for a BBQ at Deano’s. It was a glorious day – a bit hot but blue and not too sweaty. Sat around and drank ginger beer (yep, no more wine for a while I’m afraid – sorry about that glass the other day – I’m feeling guilty even though Kaz has told me its not going to kill you) and had a great hunk of fish and salad. After a few hours I felt pretty tired, so we had a quiet night at home. With another night of intermittent sleep. God, I hope I can sleep normally again soon. I need to do some more breathing exercises before going to bed perhaps.
Today is Sunday and your dad has gone to Bunnings to buy some tomatoes. I must be pregnant because there is something definitely weird with my hormones – one minute I’m happy & dancing around the house (like now to a live version of Daft Punk’s Harder Faster Deeper Stronger – which rocks – very jealous of your Aunt going to the concert last year in Japan) and the next minute I’m crying for no reason. He is planting out the back garden with some summer herbs.
The garden here doesn’t get very much sun in winter, so they all seem to die-off. I’ve read this morning that I should also be eating lots more parsley. Hopefully he’ll pick some of that up too.
I was going to go and buy a new bikini today but I’m not sure now if I can be bothered. Its all too far away. I might just do it another time instead. Maybe I should go & buy some wheatbran and eat it by the kilo. It seems like it has a bunch of nutritionally useful things that might help you grow up to be healthy & happy. As you can see I am presently obsessed with what I should or not be eating. The last chapter of Kaz focussed on that. Your dad was offended that I thought he wasn’t doing a good enough job looking after me and cooking a balanced diet for me when I read the book this morning and came up with suggestions to change our diet slightly. I didn’t mean to offend him at all – he does an amazing job – but I think my nutrition requirements will be somewhat different having to cater for you as well.
Hope you’re well down there. Get some rest.
love mum
Hi Speck!
It’s your mum here. I’m feeling a bit more confident about writing in the first person now that I’ve had almost 24 hours to think about the fact that I’M PREGNANT with you (I feel like shouting and jumping up and down with glee every time i think that or say it out aloud). It’s all a bit of a strange feeling. Your dad is totally excited and is now putting my annoying behaviour every 5 minutes down to hormones. I suspect this will continue for at least a few years now.
So I didn’t tell you this but yesterday we went to the doctor. I had an operation about six weeks ago to have a cyst taken from beside my left ovary, and yesterday was the 6 week follow-up. The doctor was busy trying to tell us that he thought my reproductive system was all ok (well, at least that my fallopian tubes worked) as he’d checked it after the operation by running blue dye through them. I had to interrupt and let him know that we thought they were ok too, because I appeared to be pregnant. It feels strange telling people. I have found myself saying that I “might be pregnant”. Your dad and the doctor both said that there is usually a “pregnant” or “not pregnant” and nothing much in-between. I think I’m still coming to terms with it (happily, but warily too… ).
The doctor referred me to go and get a blood test which will hopefully tell us how much of the pregnancy hormone I have floating around in my blood, which might let us know a bit better how old you are and that you are in the right spot (ie in my uterus rather than somewhere else). I went and got the blood test this morning and will get the results back this afternoon. I must say though, that you are very distracting and I am finding it hard to concentrate. I have a corporate finance exam tomorrow and I should be studying, but at this stage it seems relatively insignificant. So.. awaiting blood test results. By the way, I should make the point now that I absolutely HATE blood tests – they make me feel so sick that I feel queasy just thinking about it. I’m sorry if this is stressful for you too – perhaps I’ll get better as we go along – I’ve heard from friends that I might start to feel like a pin cushion during this pregnancy.
We celebrated last night with some home-cooked Mexican food. Yum. Your dad cooked while I sat and wrote the first post and then madly looked at pregancy websites trying to work out what is happening to me and you at the moment and what comes next. We were going to buy a book on the way home from the doctor but he wisely suggested I should wait until after my exam. That was probably good advice but I find I’m totally distracted by you regardless (I’ve set myself another half an hour and then I REALLY am going to go and study). I also started to write some lists. Lists of things I need to do in order to get ready for you. I’m sure it will be never-ending, but a few things that I thought of straight away were things the doctor mentioned and things I’ve been wanting to do when I did get pregnant.. The lists we’ve got are:
I also introduced you to JJJ and we did some dancing. I expect you’ll hate the music I like as I generally dislike my mother’s music, but at least you’ll hopefully have at least some sense of a beat.
I didn’t sleep very well as I think my brain went into overload thinking about all the things we need to do before you arrive, and the fact that you’re coming at all really. We’ve wanted to have you for a while, but now you’re coming it is all a bit daunting. So this morning this is what I’ve done (see you’re already taking up a lot of my day…):
My half-hour is almost up. I can’t decide if I am feeling queasy because I potentially have a mild form of morning-sickness (I think I felt like this for a while at work yesterday before I did the test but was busy and just put it down to being a bit off-colour); or if I am just over-excited.
I hope you’re doing well today. Have a bit of a boogie down there & don’t take it too seriously. I’m probably just a worry wart.
love you
-mum
It shouldn’t be a shock but it still is.
****************************
I wrote this entry and started this blog – letters to you (my first babe) – the day I found out I was pregnant, October 16, 2008. . And I decided, with your Dad, to call you Speck. ‘Cause that is what you were – a little speck. My little speck.
the first visual evidence
The first evidence – the little pink lines seemed pretty unreal. I was living in Sydney, working as an IT consultant, playing frisbee, cycling to work and generally eating and drinking and socialising my life away with your dad. And though I was really excited to find out that you were coming, I didn’t want to tell anyone but your dad for a while in case things went wrong (I’m a born optimistic pessimist), so I figured that writing to you (my little speck, a little fertilised egg) and sending my anonymous thoughts out into the ether (read: the internet via a blog) would be a good option for me. And it was…
As the weeks progressed, I used this blog to get my feelings about you out. Writing to you was a way to channel or direct my feelings, relate my story and just get on with enjoying it all. And it really did help. I knew it would all change as the pregnancy wore on, and that feelings like this are fleeting and only happen a few times in a lifetime. So I wanted to capture it. I also remembered a book I had seen that another mum had written for her daughter, detailing life before she arrived. And this little girl loved the book and pored over it and the photos in it. And I had somewhere to write about what I was feeling when I was still keeping it secret from the world at large. Therapeutic.
So that’s how it started. A bit of an outlet. And a compendium of evidence that I was really having a baby ( the week 7 picture to prove it , the week 10 pictures to show how big you’re getting ) to convince myself that this slightly unreal feeling was in fact real. And that I needed to prepare for you. BIG lifestyle adjustment.
 the first ultrasound image of you: week 7 |
 10 weeks old and A-ok! |
 Ultrasound at 19 weeks. You sucking… |
So, I wrote a bunch of entries while I was pregnant…. And went through lots of changes: week by week, trimester by trimester.
I grew a lot.
 the growing bump – week 19 |
 week 21 belly shot |
 pregnant belly at 22 weeks |
 you and me at week 28 |
 week 37 huge pregnant belly! |
 the mound from my perspective 38 weeks |
But then I also ate a lot.
 tofu laksa |
 mango-fruit at 8 weeks |
 cake at 9 weeks |
 cheese at 8 weeks |
 pie at week 16 |
 baclava week 16 |
 ryzogalo – yum. week 17 |
 muffin and chocolate week 22 |
 fig ice cream – week 25 |
 ice cream cake – week 27 |
 carrot cake week 28 |
 friands week 29 |
 fig and cheese for lunch week 31 |
 canelloni week 32 |
 Galaktoboureko week 37 |
 raspberry smoothie – week 36 |
 monte carlos week 38 |
And lots more in between. You can read all the highs and lows…
And then you arrived: 20 June 2009…. I started a birth story while in labour, but funnily enough didn’t manage to complete it at the time… Have written a bit more with the end of the story but haven’t published it yet. Cutting to the chase – you came out through my vagina without any drugs or intervention and you were amazing. And your dad and I were the proudest people in the world. Like most new parents.
you at three days old, snuggling with me
And now you’re getting bigger and older by the day and I’m still writing. While your actual name is “Oscar”, I refer to you as Poogie. It reminds me of your maternal great-grandfather. He used the word a lot. So you’re my little Poogie.
And that’s where we’re at. An Australian mum and a Canadian dad with a new baby boy in Brisbane, Australia. I’m still at home looking after you, and your dad has just started up a new business, working from home some of the time. So we’re just newbie parents and business owners, all adrift in the big wide world. Negotiating the days of new parenthood with both excited expectations and trepidation. Making mistakes and doing some things right. But enjoying watching you grow and learning all the time. From you. For you. For us. And this blog is my letter to you about it all.
My Speck.
Love and kisses
mum
*****
Hello world! I’m a little blastocyte, according to the website my mum has just read. Apparently I may or may not have a heartbeat yet, depending on when I was actually conceived. Hopefully I will have one soon if not yet (my mum is a bit worried something might go wrong).She had a glass of wine last night and felt decidedly queasy, and thought that it was a bit strange, but couldn’t remember exactly when her last period was. So in the middle of two meetings at work, she popped out to the chemist and picked up a test, took it back to work and unceremoniously peed on it. And has for the remainder of the day since alternately cried her eyes out or been laughing like a hyena.
i’m here!
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