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

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).

 

glucose tests aren't fun and helpful advice from the local greek blood-testing community April 7, 2009

Hello Speck!

You’re bum-up this morning. Your dad says good morning or has a chat most days and he has a bit of a feel to see where you are, and it seems like your bum was right above my belly button, just to my right this morning. So a slightly different position to normal, as your head was to the left rather than the right. But you’re still sleeping as yet.

Feeling pretty good today. I had the dreaded glucose test yesterday, and it wasn’t pleasant, as expected. For some reason the endocrinologist wanted me to do the full two-hour test right off the bat, so it involves waking up in the morning, not eating and then traipsing off to the blood collection centre for two and a half hours. I went down to Annerley.

As there are a bunch of tests that you need to take when you’re fasting, it was peak-hour down there, and the local greek community was out in force. I caused a bit of a rucus as although I arrived fourth in queue, as I had an appointment, they slotted me in second. Between the old greek man who was really impatient and in a hurry, and his wife, who was quite happy to gossip and chat. There was a bit of confusion as the lady behind the counter had to explain what I was there for and why I was going first. So, all my medical history in the open, it was time for the opinions and advice to flow. Interrupted of course by short stints while everyone had their blood taken (including me), but carried on seamlessly between these interruptions. So, apparently: I look healthy; I am having a boy, because I’m all out in front, and other things that I’ve forgotten again; I’m lucky that I don’t have red swelling and pigmentation around my ankles, don’t you know that some of the women there had it and it just never went away (close inspection and umming and ahhing required at this point); its unusual that I don’t have the linea nigrea (or the black line of hair or whatever it is between my navel and pubis) – but I do have very white skin, so perhaps that’s ok (luckily no-one wanted to inspect my navel to verify my claims here); oh, and the book you have to buy is “women’s weekly food for kids” or something like that which tells you what to feed your baby up to the age of kindy, even including birthday cakes to age five (my son – presumably now a man in his forties – still loves his broccoli and everyone asks me how I did it – you just start at an early age); the general consensus is that glucose tests are stupid and make you feel very sick, apparently you can fake it by just drinking a coke and then having the test; and overall I just need good luck. Oh, and the last helpful piece of advice: now, when you are at home with your baby and your husband, everyone will have some advice for you, so make sure you don’t offend them, and listen, but you just do what you think is the best thing, won’t you now… :) This all in a combination of English with simultaneous translation and broadcast into Greek for two of the older women there whose English wasn’t up to the banter.

That was the highlight of the morning. After I actually gave the blood and drank the approx 500ml of glucose solution (which tasted much like five lemonades packed into a single can) I was fine for about half an hour. After which point the nausea kicked-in and I felt alternately like vomiting or pooing for the next hour and a half. And as the collection place was so small, there were only two collection ‘rooms’ and a bed only in one. And I was allowed one glass of water to sip for the whole time. I managed to get into the bed for a while after the waiting room cleared, but all in all sitting in a hard seat in a dingy little reception area while waiting for two hours to pass and feeling like death warmed up just really isn’t my idea of fun. All for you, baby. So now its just a wait for the results, which might take until tomorrow.

Hope its all good. As I said, today is great, no tests and I feel fine! I start antenatal active-birthing yoga tonight. Heard mixed reports about the place I’m going – sounds like it will be a little too chakra-centred for my usual preferred style, but looking forward meeting some women in the area who are due around the same time…

Love you
mum