Baby Shower

Saturday was my baby shower, organised by the lovely Cheryl. It was seriously such a great party. I felt so incredibly touched to have had someone think to throw me a shower and then to have so many people show up.

Cheryl's mum hosted the shower at her beautiful home and provided tons of gorgeous food. There were crackers dressed with cucumber, cheese and sausage, vegetables and dips, crisps, scones with jam and clotted cream, tea and cold drinks. My sister-in-law also brought a dark chocolate mousse cake and some cookies, and I made an angel food cake, complete with fresh strawberries and cream.



(I wish I had a picture of Kate's chocolate cake. Oh my, it was heavenly.)

Cheryl organised several games, including 'Baby Bingo', a baby anagram, 'Pass the Parcel', a memory game (in which I got to keep all the items I remembered) and prediction cards where everyone predicted the baby's name, weight, time of birth, etc. Whoever ends up being closest gets a special present from me and Scott... that is, if we can find the cards, as they are currently MIA. Oops.

I also got loads of gifts. Opening presents in front of people now that I'm an adult is far more embarrassing than it was when I was eight. Luckily, I loved everything I got so there were no awkward embarrassing moments where I had to fake a reaction. Everything was lovely. I got mostly gorgeous clothes, but also a few really special items like a clay hand print kit, a 'baby keepsake capsule' and a hand-knitted jumper. It was all so thoughtful and wonderful.

You can click on the flickr set from the shower. Why I needed to post all the pictures, I don't know, as they mostly all look the same, me looking like a big stripey whale sitting in a chair making really terrible faces. I think maybe it's the variety of terrible faces that made me put each picture up. Or maybe laziness in not wanting to go through and choose the best (or worst) ones. At any rate, feel free to just look at a few and you'll get an idea of what the shower was like.

Also you can see my last week bump pictures. I'm sure I'll take some pictures before the birth and when I get to hospital and all that, but this is the last official week of my pregnancy... unless for some horrible reason they put it off and make me wait until Monday or something... oh my goodness I will die if I have to sit in a hospital over the weekend waiting to have this baby. Anyway, no dwelling on that, we'll just all assume that by this time Friday (9pm) I'll be cuddling my darling baby and all will be well and good.

I can't believe I only have three more days in my home to get ready. Notice the To Do list though... it is definitely dwindling!

The Hosptial - My Second Home

I have yet another hosptial appointment today. In case you haven't been talking to me personally, let me just sum up the visits I've been having to make: a 35 week scan, a 36 week scan and consultant appointment scheduled for a Thursday but cancelled due to snow and scan rescheduled for the Friday, a 37 week scan yesterday and chat with obstetrician, and consultant appointment rescheduled from Thursday to today. I feel like I'm never out of there.

In interesting developments, but developments not interesting enough to make a difference, my placenta has moved a significant amount, but not significantly enough to change the necessity of a cesarean. In medical terms (because I'm totally down with it now), from a mainline view, the placenta is 3cm away from the os, but from a rightside view, it is less than 2cm. Some experts say 2cm is enough for a vaginal birth, but unfortunately, in my situation, the placenta is still wrapped around the baby's head somewhat, and though the bit that is less than 2cm away is thin, 1cm from that is a cotyledon which would be very bad to rupture. The obs said they'd be happy to keep doing weekly scans if that's what I want, but he also sort of implied that there probably isn't much point. He was a good doctor; both Scott and I really liked him. I trusted his opinion, as he very clearly showed us how it would all work, by indicating how far the cervix would dilate in vaginal labour, where the head would be engaging and by labeling the scan pictures with all the necessary terms for us to take home and to show the consultant. He also explained how and where the cesarean incision would be done, which was helpful to me. He gave me some grave facts about how the cesarean would take place, but those are the kind of facts I've been wanting someone to give me.

My midwife will be attending this consultation with me today. I'm very grateful, as Scott has to be at work. My midwife is great and seems to be in agreement with me and Scott about all the decisions we're having to make. I'm really, truly glad we hired her. I may not be getting my homebirth, but I could not have asked for a better carer throughout my pregnancy and beyond. She'll be around after the baby is born too to help me with breastfeeding and post-natal care. She's great. I highly recommend her.

So anyway, if a date ever gets decided upon... well, I was gonna say I'll let you know, but I might not! I don't know if I'll want to keep it to myself and close family and friends or not. But you WILL know when the baby is born, complete with pictures, because Scott won't be allowed to stay at the hospital with me all day, so blogging will be one of his many chores while I'm laid up with a big slice in my gut. That and washing the nappies I send home with him everyday from the hospital.

At some point, for anyone who is interested, I plan on posting my birth plans (the one I had for vaginal delivery in case I should need to deliver in hospital and the one I have for my cesarean) somewhere on my site for anyone who is thinking of writing a birth plan themselves but don't know where to start. Obviously our plans will be different, but maybe mine will help someone get started. Allison (my midwife) said my birth plans were excellent, and then we both chuckled at the thought of the doctors reading them. They'll probably just laugh. But who cares? I'm going to make a pretty sign to hang on the wall above my bed stating the most important parts of my plan so any nurse/midwife/doctor who comes to my bedside will be sure to know what I do and do not consent to. :) I'm going to be a PAIN. It's my right, after all.

Nesting and Egg Whites

My midwife was here this morning. The baby's head is still not engaged (probably because of the placenta) so that means, for the purposes of this post, that I am not going to be going into labour anytime soon.

Which explains the lack of 'nesting instinct'.

Sure, I got out the broom today and swept the floors, which I don't make a great habit of doing on a regular basis, but that was only because Allison was coming over, and I don't want her to think I'm a complete slob. Which, these days, I am. And I did my daily load of laundry and dishes, which is becoming second nature now (hurray!). But folks, there are no clean baseboards or cubbards in this house.

However, I'm baking an angel food cake right now. Why? For what event? No reason, no event. I just wanted to see if I could make an angel food cake. You know, from scratch. I'm a bit dubious; I don't think this one is going to turn out so well, as I sort of messed up at one point. And all ya'll Martha Stewarts out there know how fickle egg whites are - they are not to be messed with. So we'll see if this cake turns out or, well, in.

So I'm now wondering - could the nesting instinct take its place in the kitchen? Do some women go on baking crazes before the baby's born instead of cleaning ones? I kinda hope not, at least not for me. Because seriously, the house could use a crazy hormonal spring clean.


[UPDATE]
The cake turned out pretty good! I might've left it to bake a little too long, so next time I'll chop off about 5 minutes or so (I had to cut off some burnt edges). But the consistency is perfect - and it tastes good too!

I've been so seriously overwhelmed this past week. While I can feel Schmooker moving all day long (she likes to dig her little heels into my side), I don't feel like I'm about to have a real baby. We had another ultrasound scan today, and the tech let us see a really lovely view of her face - her little eyes and nose (even the nostrils!) and her fat little lips - but it still doesn't feel real. I worry about why this is.

I can't picture the birth at all. It all seems so surreal. And also so far away. Maybe it's just been a surreal week, with Scott off work and me being exhausted and over-emotional and all the baby washing done. Maybe time feels like it's stopped a little. But I just feel very un-ready for all this to happen. I don't feel like I can do this. I'm tired and worn out and depressed and stressed out and I can't imagine adding a human baby to the mix. Scott's not feeling anything like I am so he's finding it hard to relate to me. He's very ready to meet his daughter and become a daddy. I'm lagging behind, mostly just feeling apprehensive and unprepared. Not to mention ridiculously emotional, which he can't get his head around at all.

It's not just the pregnancy that's stressing me out. I feel like the whole world is too much to handle right now. Yet when I try to ennumerate all the things I'm concerned about, they fall the floor in only a tiny pile of useless scraps. There is nothing major or pressing in reality that is causing me such exhaustion, just small things that feel bigger than life. Well, that's not really being fair to my situation. I DO have several things on my plate right now that really are a big deal and not trivial at all: getting a mortgage, trying to find a house and coping with the deaths and illnesses of people I care about. But then, on top of that, I feel flooded with the everyday tasks of simply existing: making dinners, keeping house, trying to sleep, maintaining relationships...

The way I'm talking, you'd think I was in transition!

However, the birth is still very far away. Or very far away as I see it. And nothing has been officially decided - there's been no date set for the section and because of the section, I've dropped the habits I'd taken up of preparing for labour and anticipating it. So it all feels like the pregnancy has stopped. The climax will never come. The watching and waiting is over. My body is in the hands of doctors, and it no longer has a job to do.

Of course, I know in my head that it continues to grow and nurture a baby, but the feelings that before accompanied this beautiful knowledge no longer comfort me. Instead, I trudge tiredly through each day, crying over everything and feeling alone and powerless. No doubt my mom would tell me to 'buck up', but if she did, I'd probably, you know, cry some more. I don't know how I'm going to cope for the rest of this pregnancy and when I've suddenly got a helpless baby to keep safe, comforted and alive. I want to give up.

But Scott tells me that's not an option. I wish he could take this on for me, just for a few days. A good night's sleep and a large gin and cranberry would do me good.

So yeah, I've officially had ENOUGH of pregnancy. I feel the size of the Titanic, and I'm just about ready to sink.

The Best Laid Schemes...

Since before I was even married, I knew I wanted to have a waterbirth.

Since before I was pregnant, I knew I wanted a homebirth.

Since I've been pregnant, I've researched, learned and made decisions very important to me about the childbirth process and beyond. I've made decisions about labour and delivery, breastfeeding, vaccinations, babywearing, co-sleeping and diapering. All the decisions I've made have been carefully considered and are deeply important to me.

I've been preparing for this point in my life to take place for a while. I've visualised it all - from contractions starting to birthing my beautiful daughter in a warm pool of water in my living room and putting her to my breast for the first time. I've looked forward to experiencing this drug-free, embracing all of it, no matter how hard and painful. I knew this would be a defining moment in my life. I wasn't scared; I was excited. I cherished the idea of a gentle birth with no one around but me, my husband, my midwife and my baby.

All along, however, I knew there was a possibility that things wouldn't go as planned, but I remained optimistic. My pregnancy has been great, aside from the usual aches and niggles. I've had no big issues like high blood pressure, swelling, bleeding or anaemia. I've been in good health. My baby has been in the optimal foetal position for weeks now, despite the anterior placenta. I've had no reason to be concerned that things might not go as planned.

Except for the low lying placenta. At 20 weeks, I was a bit nervous but was assured from all sides that these things are common and usually don't interfere with the labour at full term. Always the optimist, I took that on and didn't worry myself.

Three weeks ago, the placenta was still low, but it was uncertain how low. Again, I didn't worry too much. At that point I was only 32 weeks along, with time to spare, and again an optimistic outlook. I continued to plan for the homebirth, with a few precautions. I held off on ordering the birth pool 'just in case' but kept up with the other things I knew were important. I signed up for aqua-natal. I pumped up my birthing ball. I started a list of essential oils and teas and other labour accessories that I wanted to purchase before the big event.

But... 'The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men/ Gang aft agley'.*

My scan yesterday confirmed placenta praevia. At 35 weeks, the placenta is still on the edge of the os (internal cervical opening), meaning there is no real chance it will move the necessary 2cm or so in time for the birth. If left to give birth naturally, the cervix would start dilating, and the placenta would then be in the way of the opening. The baby would start bearing down, causing the placenta to rupture and, well, as dramatic as it sounds, we'd probably both bleed to death. So we can all do the math here: I won't be having my homebirth.

This news, while upsetting, wasn't surprising. I knew all along it was a possibility. But now that the possibility has become the reality, I have a lot of issues to come to terms with. A lot of those decisions I made, which are so important to me, have to be reformed. Probably the most difficult will be seeing my baby's umbilical cord cut immediately. It was one of the most important parts of my birth plan, to keep the cord in tact until it stopped pulsating and the placenta was delivered. It is my strongest belief that the blood in that placenta belongs to my baby, with all its antibodies and oxygen. When confronted with the possibility of having a cesarean earlier on, I'd decided to speak to the surgeon about this beforehand and insist on the placenta being born with the baby, cord in tact, like a lotus birth. It was one of those things that made a cesarean seem a little less awful.

The scan, however, reveals that the placenta is anterior - in laymen's terms, it's in the front of the uterus. In order to get the baby out, it will be sliced through. As you can imagine, this means lots of blood, which means the absolute necessity that the cord is clamped as soon as possible to keep both of us from hemmoraging.

I feel powerless. I feel gypped. I feel like a failure. I feel ashamed. And I know in my head that all of these things are silly, that not a single one is true. Yet deep down, I can't help the utter disappointment presenting itself in these ways. It's a relinquish of control that feels too hard and too unfair. There are feelings of sadness, regret, loss and wounded pride. I feel grieved that I won't get to experience this birth the way I planned it. I feel unempowered. I feel downright selfish.

But it's also so important to explain that I feel thankful. I feel really, really rescued. I keep coming back to the realisation that, were I living only 150 years ago, me and my baby would be living our last days. We would have died. My husband would be left alone to grieve the loss of the two most important people in his whole life. When I think on this, all I can do is praise God for what He has allowed us to learn in the past century! Because of His grace and mercy and love, my baby and I have a chance to live. How can I feel gypped when faced with a truth like this!

Yesterday, I did a lot of crying. I won't say that today I am completely over it, but I can honestly say that I am more at peace with the situation. I will be having a cesarean. I will be having our baby in the hospital. I will have to give up many things that were important to me. But I will have my daughter. My husband will have his wife and child. In the end, the birth of our daughter takes place in one day. While I wanted that first day to be special and gentle, it is only one day. We will have the rest of her life and ours to love her and care for her and assure her that we will always treasure her. In the end, the way she comes into the world is not what counts. I'm coming to terms with the truth of this. I feel okay about being disappointed, but I won't be consumed by it. God has given us the special gift of this child. I'm looking forward to meeting her. I thank God that He does not relinquish control.


*Or, in other words, 'The best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.' (Robert Burns, 'To A Mouse')

Maternity Leave

Today is the official start of my maternity leave. It feels so good knowing all my workmates are back at work today, and I'm sitting in a stripey t-shirt and yellow sneakers trying to decide if I should shop first, shower later or shower first and shop later...

Should probably shower first, huh? I could dry and straighten my hair and feel fab, then go for a coffee...

I need to buy milk and ice cream (essential), pick up Scott's prescription and pick up some more of these comfy t-shirts at Primark for £3 each.

I am going to phone up the physiotherapy centre at the hospital to register for aqua-natal, starting next week. Wish I could start tomorrow, but tomorrow is my scan and midwife appointment.

I'll probably do a bit of tidying. I need to wash the cover on the baby mattress, and this week I'm going to start washing the baby clothes and sheets so they'll be fresh and ready for the arrival of Schmooker. I'm doing my best not to fall for all the consumer traps like special sensitive skin baby laundry detergent and what not. Did mothers back in the medieval times have special sensitive skin baby laundry detergent? Did their babies all die? I'm trying to keep some perspective on this whole new-parent thing. Perspective being something I need when you look at how bananas I've gone with buying stuff.

Speaking of stuff, a friend of mine, Cheryl, is throwing a baby shower for me! She's married to a Canandian so she was aware that baby showers were big in 'North America'. So she asked if I wanted one. I was tickled pink! The idea that someone would throw me a baby shower is so touching. For those not in-the-know, baby showers aren't really done here. A lot of people think it's bad luck to buy stuff for the baby before the baby actually arrives. And many, if they do buy ahead, won't keep the things in their home until the baby arrives. If that's the case, then that explains all the morning sickness, backache and heartburn I've experienced throughout my pregnancy, because I've been buying baby stuff since I saw the two pink dots!

Still on my To Buy For Baby list (consumer trap warning!):
- some newborn prefold nappies (for those first few meconium days, so I don't ruin my beautiful shaped nappies)
- a room thermometer (I know! Medieval mums didn't have those either, but I can't help but be convinced that my baby is going to sweat and/or freeze to death in our temperature-unstable house.)
- my sling (I've been saving up for this thing for months)
- my nursing pillow (I've been assured by internet and real life friends alike that this pillow really is the best)
- the pram/carseat (which is being purchased by my mother and father-in-law. I'm going to go for a three-part travel system with an infant carseat so I can put off buying the real carseat a bit longer. It's something I have yet to research, and I'm actually pretty terrified of the carseat research process, because I don't know what I'm looking for.)
- the bedside cot (which I'll get when my mom gets here)

Ah, maternity leave. It's bliss.

And as an interesting (?) sidenote, I've lived in Scotland for almost 2 and a half years, and I don't know the radio frequency numbers for a single radio station. Radio 4 is starting a series today on the perils and pitfalls of working from home... and I don't know where Radio 4 is.