The wait is over! (40 weeks part 2)

So, where were we? Tim had managed to calm me down by the time they were ready to take me into theatre, but it didn't take much to set me off again. Someone, probably an anaesthetist, had gone over what was going to happen. I already knew that Tim would be kicked out if I needed a general anaesthetic for any reason, but I really didn't need to be reminded of that right then... Then they wheeled me into the theatre.

Any control I had over my emotions was completely lost then. It's this huge big stark white room, full of people and various machines, with huge overhead lights. Now I'm all for women choosing what works for them when it comes to giving birth (and most other things), but at that moment, I could not for the life of me understand why anyone would choose to have a caesarean. Even with Tim there, with a doctor I knew and trusted, I was so scared. (I also recall thinking something about how maybe it was a good thing they wouldn't let me stay awake like I'd asked when they operated on my arm). I was still crying. They were still asking if I was alright. I knew I'd be fine once the baby was out, but I had to just focus on getting there first.

I knew that it wouldn't take them long to get bub out, that most of the time in theatre was them putting me back together, so I just tried to concentrate on listening for the cry. They transferred me onto the theatre table, using the hover mat. Someone said something about how they charge you for this kind of thing at the show. There was a bit of prep stuff going on, as I listened to what Dr D was saying. Tim was given a stool near me head, so neither one of us could see anything. At this stage, I think that was probably a good thing. I know I kept looking at the clock.

40 weeks + 2

About midnight, Dr D told me that it was about to feel like someone was doing the dishes in my belly. That is a pretty accurate description. After a minute or so, the dishes were done. The screen was dropped and a purple, squishy baby boy, covered in goop, was held up. The first thing I said? "His hands are too big!" He didn't look like a newborn! He was passed over the screen and put on my chest, so I could hold him. I was still crying, but now it was just utter relief. My smile wasn't forced anymore.

Covered in goop!

I had him there for about 5 minutes, before I felt like I was going to be sick, an unfortunate but common response to having a baby. Tim took bub for me as I lay there trying not to be sick. I was given something to stop me feeling sick, which was pretty effective. Unfortunately at the same time, Tim also got really light headed as he overheated. So the baby was passed to a midwife and he lay down on the floor before he passed out! After a few minutes, he'd recovered enough to get up and help cut the cord and dry off and dress the baby.

Tim cutting the cord

As Tim was overheating, I was feeling really, really cold!! I'd lost about 800ml of blood and was starting to go into shock. They got me a clean, dry gown and some warm blankets but it didn't feel like it had made any difference.

Guess who he got his big hands from?

About 40 minutes after I went into theatre, I was all back together and being taken into recovery. Dr D had made sure to reinforce my stitches and she had used a longer lasting suture material for my internal stitches. She wanted to give my body the best chance of healing well, since there are certain movements I just can't get around, like transfers.
Usually you are kept in recovery about 30 minutes, but I wasn't that straight forward. My blood pressure was very low, due to my blood loss. I was freezing cold, shivering and teeth chatting constantly, so they wrapped me up with a hot air blanket, set at 35 degrees, to try and warm me up. I was constantly drifting off to sleep. The past 32+ hours had caught up to me and I couldn't stay awake. Apparently it had been harder on me that it had felt at the time.

At my last appointment with Dr D before my first induction attempt, she'd said my haemoglobin levels would be ok if I only lost 100-200ml of blood. Since I'd lost four times that, it was a bit of a concern. I was in and out of it a lot in recovery, but I remember them trying to get a second canular in my other hand. As I've said before, I don't have good veins. So for them to be trying to canulate me after everything I'd just been through, was never going to work. I was awake enough to tell them I didn't want them to, but not enough to really put my foot down, so to speak. Two anaesthetists had several attempts at my hand before Tim convinced them to try my foot. They weren't going to get that either, but at least it wasn't hurting me. It also allowed me to get my cold arm back in the warm bed. Sure enough, they couldn't get a canular in, but they did manage to get enough blood for a blood test.

Throughout all this I was really really thirsty, but I wasn't allowed to drink anything. The most I was allowed was ice chips, which I ate as fast as they would give them to me. It didn't do much to help me warm up though. What I would have given for a hot chocolate...
At some stage, Tim asked me if I would like to hold the baby again. I told him I thought I could do that, and then promptly fell back asleep! When I woke up again, not only was the baby in bed beside me, but Tim and the midwife had managed to express some milk and get him feeding! So I missed the start of his first feed, but that was ok. Despite the fact I kept falling asleep, I found that the first thought each time I woke up was whether the baby was still ok. I was worried he'd suffocate or overheat, since I knew the bed was hot to try and warm me up, but he was ok. I'm guessing the midwife was keeping a pretty close eye on us, since that was why she was there!
I was also aware that mum was upstairs and we had definitely been longer than half an hour in recovery. I found out later that Tim had messaged her and let her know I was ok, which was really good, since I'd been worried about her not knowing, but couldn't wake up enough to do anything about it!
By 3am, they were satisfied my bleeding had eased and I was allowed to go back to the labour ward. I'd been in recovery over 2 hours. Because I was still on the epidural, I would be kept on the labour ward where they could monitor my recovery closely.

Once we finally got back to the labour ward, I was very happy to see mum. There would be a lot happening for a couple of hour’s still, so I really appreciated having her there to help and just to give me a cuddle. It had been a rough night. There were doctors, midwives, nurses and anaesthetists coming and going over the next couple of hours. I was actually awake for bubs second feed, which mum helped me with, since I'd missed out on a lesson with the midwife earlier. Poor Tim was almost as tired as me and had a power nap in the armchair in between people coming and going. The surgery wasn't much fun for me, but it was all a bit scary for him too, especially considering everything that happened afterwards. It was a lot quieter in the labour ward though and we had got away from bright white rooms, which made me feel a lot more relaxed. I'd also finally warmed up enough that I could start to take off some of the mountain of blankets I was covered in. We had arranged with the nursery to borrow one of their cots, so that was ready for us too. 

And so, the final mystery for the night, just how big was this baby? He weighed in at 4.18kg, or 9lb 4oz, so he was pretty heavy. He was 55cm long, so a little longer than average. His head though... A newborns average head size is 35cm. They triple measured his and it was definitely 38.5cm! So while it would have been nice if he'd arrived as planned, it probably wasn't such a bad thing I ended up with a caesarean. A baby that size I could just as likely ended up in theatre anyway and it probably wouldn't have been quite so straight forward.

Both ready for a nap!

Next time on para pregnancy, what did we name him?

40 weeks

This post has been rather a while coming now! As you may have guessed, I've been busy having a baby, so I haven't had much time to write. There has been so much going on, so much I want to talk about, that it's been a mission simply writing notes for myself. To keep things from getting too out of control, I'm going to break things down a bit. So let's start as I arrived at the hospital...

40 Weeks

It's a truly strange feeling to be going into hospital knowing that you won't be leaving without having given birth to the child you've been carrying for the past nine months. It's one of those things that the movies always depict as a messy and spontaneous event. Sometimes though, there is somewhat more planning and scheduling involved. I was admitted to hospital at 40 weeks exactly to be induced. After the previous weeks attempt, we knew that I was unlikely to have a reaction to the hormone they were using, so after a quick internal examination, Dr D put some prostins gel on my cervix, to help it prepare for baby's departure. The head was nicely down and my cervix was looking better after another week waiting, though it was still long. This kid was being served an eviction notice!

After the gel was inserted, I was kept on the CTG (cardiotocograph) to monitor bubs heartbeat, to insure he/she didn't get too stressed as well as any contractions I might be having. It didn't take them long to start at all. By the time this all happened, it was about 3pm, with a progress report scheduled for 9pm, when more gel would be inserted if it was needed. Baby was doing well and I was having contractions about ten minutes apart, strong enough that I could feel some of them, but really not causing me any sort of discomfort.

The dinner the hospital gave me really wasn't looking that appealing, so Tim headed down the road and got us some burgers for tea. Turns out that wasn't such a great idea. I'd read so many times about only eating small light meals in early labour, but it didn't actually occur to me that what I was in was early labour. Not until after I went to get ready for bed and threw said burger up again.
At my nine o'clock check, I was given another internal exam and found to be 3cm dilated already! This was great progress! My cervix had shortened up to only 1/2 cm long (previously 4-5cm) as well, so things were looking good. So good that instead of inserting more gel, the doctor did a stretch and sweep instead. This is where they use a finger to separate the membrane from the cervix, reportedly somewhat uncomfortable. I'd believe that, because even though I couldn't feel it, I could feel my stomach and legs spasming as they do when they really don't like something. By this stage I was up to 2-3 contractions over a ten minute period and ready to have my waters broken in the morning, if they hadn't already done so by themselves.

By 10.30 pm my contractions were close and regular enough that I was moved to the labour ward so we were ready for things to get started. I was put back on the CTG for half an hour and had a catheter and canular put in, ready for labour.  
Not long after this I had someone from the anaesthetics team come talk to me about an epidural. My thoughts on an epidural were similar to my thoughts on a caesarean section. If I need one, fine, but give me a chance to try this myself first. The anaesthetist spoke to me about the option of putting in an epidural and setting it up so it was ready, but without actually hooking it up. I was happy with this compromise, but once she had spoken with her boss, they decided that actually, that was pointless. I was told I didn't need to make a decision just yet and since Tim had finally fallen asleep and I didn't want to wake him, (or make that decision alone) I decided to wait until they next checked my progress at 1.

40 weeks + 1 day

At 1am I was given another internal examination and was still 3cm dilated, with my cervix shortened right up. My vital statistics, otherwise known as ob's were being taken hourly, so I really wasn't getting much rest. There was another internal exam at 6am then I was left to get a bit of sleep before we started. I was offered a shower but with so little sleep and a canular in my hand that was just way too much work!

At 9am, Dr D was back to check my progress and get things started. She had been kept updated on my progress throughout the night, even though she was off duty. She broke my waters, using an instrument that closely resembles a crochet hook. Again, I couldn't really feel anything, just a pressure and that discomfort that I get when my stomach muscles protest. By this stage I was losing track of the number of times someone had stuck their hand up my vagina. Maybe 6? They do tell you to check your dignity in at the door....

When you go into labour, your body naturally produces a hormone called oxytocin, which causes the contractions of the uterus and basically pushes the baby most of the way out, until you get to the active stage of labour at the end where you push. Since I hadn't gone into labour spontaneously, I had to be given syntocin, an artificial version of oxytocin. I was started on a dose of 12ml an hour, going up 12ml at a time each hour. They do this gradually so they can get the dose right for each individual and to give you a chance to keep up with the progression, so neither mother nor baby end up too stressed.
Speaking with Dr D, she was happy for me to try without the epidural and see how I went. I was being constantly monitored anyway and we had the anaesthetics team on standby if things started to get out of hand. She was also regularly checking up on me throughout the day.

I had another visit from anaesthetics, this time from the head of the department. I'm not sure if he didn't hear me or just didn't think I was funny when I promised him I wouldn't go walking off if they gave me a walking epidural. This is a low dose epidural that allows you to still walk around during labour, but the walking part isn't an option at my hospital, due to a staff shortage. Walking epidurals require constant supervision due to the increased falls risk. Since I couldn't feel if the epidural was in the right place by the usual measure (loss of sensation and pain), we would have to use other methods to see if it was working. The two main signs would be a drop in my blood pressure and my legs should be very warm to touch as they became hyper vascular. He also assured me that it shouldn't slow down my labour or impair my ability to push. He was very keen to get this started to prevent me from getting any dysreflexia, but I wasn't ready to go ahead with it yet.

Over the next couple of hours I was gradually given a higher dose of syntocin, as well as fluids to make sure I didn't get dehydrated. I was having semi-regular contractions, strong enough that I could feel them, but not really more than occasionally uncomfortable. Certainly not painful in any way.

I sent Tim off to grab a quick lunch with his mum. Just after he left, Dr D stopped in again. By this stage my blood pressure had been slowly rising for a couple of hours. It was still well within normal range, but getting on the high side for me. I had also had the occasional twinges of sharp pain in my head, which I get when my blood pressure rises, a symptom of dysreflexia. Both these things led me to ask Dr D how she felt we were going and if she thought we needed to go ahead with the epidural. Her thoughts were that we would need to be considering it soon. That was enough for me, and I gave her the go ahead to organise it.

Once I said yes, things happened very quickly. One of the anaesthetists came up and talked me through exactly what he was going to do and got me to sit up on the side of the bed. One of the midwives stood in front of me to help brace me and make sure I stayed in the right position to allow the epidural to go straight in. I'd been in a hospital gown since the night before, but they need that out of the way as well to do the epidural, so I was sitting there basically naked in front of several people I'd never met before. Who am I kidding, I was naked! You have to kind of hunch over, so they can get the needle between the vertebrae. Tim wasn't gone very long, but he only arrived back just in time. I was really glad he made it, because I got very nervous just before they went to put it in. And scared. I was pretty sure I was doing the right thing, but I really had no way of knowing. I'd let Tim know I'd given them the go ahead to do the epidural, but in the end I'd made that decision without him and I really wanted to talk to him. I hadn't wanted to have the epidural in the first place, even though I knew it would probably be necessary, so I really didn't want to do it alone.
It turned out to be pretty quick and easy in the end and was done before I knew it. They then had to flush it and run a test through it, before they set it up for the long haul. Safe to say he got it in the right place. My blood pressure dropped right down, below my normal levels within minutes. This meant they then had to pump me with fluids to bring it back up. This was another reason I'd been reluctant to have one too early, as I knew the epidural would lower my already low blood pressure. I'm not sure if it was the epidural itself, the fluids or just the emotional toll of it all but I got cold afterwards and had the shakes up a bit. My contractions had been starting to get quite regular up to this point but had slowed down again. So much for the epidural not affecting my progress. At least we didn't have to worry about dysreflexia anymore.

By midafternoon my contractions were getting better again with the gradual increase of syntocin. I wasn't regular enough to be in what they called established labour, but I was making progress. There had been lots of clear amniotic fluid leaking out everywhere and we had had to change the bedding several times already. The fact that it was clear was a very good sign, meaning there was no sign of bleeding or infection. I'd had the risk of bub passing meconium (the first poop) while still in utero in the back of my mind for months, so I was glad to see that wasn't the case. Baby was still being very happy and active. I was trying to get a video of my belly moving, so I could send it to my sister in the Northern Territory, but I couldn't get my timing right. Tim was smashing through the levels of angry birds on the ipad.

A bit later on, the head anaesthetist came by again to check up on me. He didn't really have much to say. I sent Tim off to meet up with our neighbours and get out of the hospital for a bit while he still had a chance.

Around 5, Dr D came by to do an internal exam. They usually do one after 4 hours of established labour, but since I was close to that, she checked me anyway. I'd progressed to 4-5cm dilated. We made a plan for her to come back at 9pm, by which time I would hopefully be most of the way there. The syntocin was still being gradually increased to help strengthen my contractions. This time when Dr D examined me, I hadn't had any twitches in my feet or stomach spasms, showing the epidural was doing its job.

I spent the next couple of hours sitting up in bed, instead of lying down. It felt good to be in a different position for a bit. Tim ended up staying out for tea with the others before he came back.

Dr D came by at nine for our next check. I knew when she didn't say anything as she was going that something wasn't quite right. I was still only 4-5cm dilated and baby was presenting posterior. It wouldn't have mattered who it was on that bed, in this position, with a baby this big, a vaginal delivery wasn't an option.

Dr D told me that we could leave it for a bit if I wanted, but that with the position the baby was in, I wouldn't dilate any further, since the baby wouldn't be pushing on my cervix. As well as that, the contractions would only be putting pressure on the baby’s head, which would eventually cause the baby to get stressed. She left us alone for a couple of minutes to decide what we wanted to do, but there was never really any option. By this stage I'd been having contractions for 30 hours, I'd had next to no sleep overnight and I'd just found out that despite all our best efforts, I wasn't getting the birth I wanted. I cried. Dr D came in and we gave her the go ahead. Since neither baby nor I were in any danger, we had a bit of time to get things organised.

The next half hour or so was a flurry of people coming and going. They got a hover mat onto the bed underneath me, to make it easier when they needed to transfer me. The syntocin was turned off to slow down my contractions, since they were no longer needed. People came and went. Dr D came in and explained what was going to happen once we got moving. I was still monitored regularly. I continued to cry. Just tears rolling down my face as everything happened around me. I was so utterly disappointed. I knew it wasn't my fault, it wasn't anyone’s fault, but that didn't change how I felt. I managed to calm down enough to call my mum, only to start again as soon as she asked how I was going. Tim was coming with me to surgery, but I wanted Mum there when I came out. Tim and I passed the time trying to come up with baby names. Nothing like leaving things to the last minute.

It was about 11.30 by the time we got to the theatre. I remember lying there thinking how different this was to the last time I was going in for surgery, when the guy pushing my bed had asked if I knew what type of theatre I was going to, I was that jovial. This time I was quiet, just holding it together. I managed a smile for Tim when we stopped to take a photo of each other, me in bed, him in his scrubs. 

Tim ready to go!

They put some SCUDS on my legs, a kind of massaging pressure stocking, a far cry from the teds I got when I broke my back.

SCUDS, to keep the blood flowing through my legs properly

I cannot overstate how much of a difference it made for me, having built up such a great relationship with Dr D. She had listened to me (and Tim, which we both felt was really important) and supported me throughout everything I had asked for and left me in no doubt that she would both try her best to accommodate my wishes, without letting me put myself in danger. She had already gone above and beyond and going into theatre knowing she would be doing the surgery herself, when she could just as well have finished her shift and gone home to her own kids, made the world of difference to me. It stopped something that was really scary from being terrifying and downright traumatic. I trusted her judgement completely. Having both her and Tim there, and knowing Mum was waiting, were the things that kept me from completely falling apart; Although I’m not sure the nursing staff thought I hadn’t already, judging by the number of times they asked me if I was ok. I guess having your patient lying there in a constant flow of tears isn’t the most uplifting sight.

Now I’m sorry, but I’m going to leave you all with a cliff hanger here. I promise I’m already working on the next bit, but if I keep going now, this is going to get out of control. So give me a few days and all will be revealed!  

39 weeks

It has been another eventful week. I think I'm up to three trips in to the hospital now- I'm getting to know the midwives in there quite well! So overall, I'm feeling a bit impatient now, huge but not too bad on the whole. I seem to have either lots of energy, or want to sleep all day, nothing in between. I made Tim take me with him to measure up a fence and to the farmers markets over the weekend because I was feeling so restless. I haven't really been anywhere apart from the hospital for weeks! My hands haven't been swelling so much lately, but nor have my ankles or knees been deflating properly overnight.

One of the things I had been concerned about earlier on in my pregnancy was how I would go with my catheters. They have actually turned out to be fine, albeit a bit awkward some days trying to get around this belly. My bowels have been more of a challenge, since it's very difficult to do my stomach massage with a baby in the way. Things are a lot slower, so I just try to do the best I can. I'm also cautious of taking too many senna tablets, since the senna can go through to the baby and we don't want that. If baby passes poo before the birth, it contaminates the amniotic fluid and can cause a nasty infection, sending baby into distress. And if baby is sick, there will be no question, they will be going for a quick exit, so a cesarean. The baby's head has dropped into position, so right down into my pelvis, over the last week. This is great for the birth bit, but has meant that emptying my bowels has been even more tricky still.

So last week, we met up with Dr D again. She did an internal examination, so see how my cervix was looking and we had a talk about my options. She said I've got a very nice pelvis, which helped me feel a little bit better about getting this baby's monsterous head out! We decided to come back the next day and try some prosoglandin to see if that would help soften my cervix, as it was a long way off being ready to let a baby out. To do this, I was given cervidil, which is a prostoglandin tablet, within a little fabric tab on a string, not unlike a tampon. This allows the dose to be given slowly over 12 hours. Dr D did this, then I was left for about 40 minutes hooked up to the monitor to make sure my uterus wasn't overstimulated, since that can place a lot of pressure on me and babies don't tend to like it either. The machine they use to do this is a cardiotocograph, or a CTG. Because of my limited sensation, they used this to monitor my contractions several times overnight. They also had to wake me up about 2am to remove the cervidil, so I didn't get too much. By the time they finished with me for the night, it was about 10.30. Tim had come back in to bring me pasta for tea (carb loading), but I sent him home again. I was having contractions, but not enough for me to need him there, so I figured at least one of us should get a decent nights sleep! The hospital has been very good accommodation wise. They had me in a double room, but I had the whole room to myself, so I had lots of room and they will try to put me in this room again next time. The midwives are also very good. I have been feeling a bit... pressured, I suppose is the word, about having an early epidural. One of the midwives came in and sat with me and just talked to me about the pros and cons and what other options I might have. It's all stuff I've talked about with various people before, but it was nice to feel like she had my back and for her to just take the time to sit with me and let me talk it out. 
Normally when they induce a pregnant woman, they will take her round to the labour ward about 7 to get started. Because we weren't 100% sure we were going ahead, Dr D wanted to do an exam herself before we started, so I got an extra couple of hours to sleep, which was really appreciated. I'd had people in and out of my room all night checking I hadn't gone into labour. During one of those checks I'd drifted off, only to wake up with someone sitting on my bed, in the dark, touching my belly- twice! So Tim was back in about 8 and I had some breakfast ready for, well, whatever happened!
When Dr D checked me, she found that the cervidil had helped, but I wasn't really where I needed to be for them to break my waters. There were other things that we could have tried, but it would have likely dragged out for days, not to mention that the more intervention, the more likely we would end up needing a cesarean anyway! So after all that, we packed up and came home! It was all a bit anti climatic really. A few of the midwives made comments as we left about it all being a bit of a nonevent, but I hadn't really let myself get too excited about it. I didn't want to go through with it unless everything was ready to go, so I was happy enough to go home. We are booked in to try again this week, if baby hasn't decided to come of it's own accord before then.

The day after we went home, I lost my mucous plug (do not google image this!!) which is a further sign that my body is getting ready for labour. I did call the hospital, since they'd said to let them know if I had any vaginal loss or bleeding (this was what Dr D was referring too a few weeks ago when I made my smart arse quip), but since we are all comfortable I can feel my contractions, they aren't so worried about me going into labour and not realising. I did have a couple of restless hours one night over the weekend with some contractions, but since they weren't regular and didn't get any stronger, it's safe to say they were only Braxton Hicks (practise contractions).

Guess what!!! The other good thing about not going through with the induction last week- I finally finished that damn quilt!! Not only that, but I've since whipped up a new pair of pj's for me too. If I had more fabric I would have run up a pair for Tim as well, but spotlight isn't much of a priority for either of us at the moment. So I'm feeling pretty ready for this baby to get here. I don't even really have anymore 'jobs' to do before it arrives. The bassinet needs to swap rooms, but I'm not doing that until I need too.

Finally! I have finished the quilt!

I think that about covers this last week. Apart from my visit to the hospital, I haven't been up to much really. By my next post, there will almost certainly be a baby here. My plan is to keep writing every week or two, but I'm just going to take it as it comes! I have deliberately not written to much about equipment since I haven't had a chance to use a lot of it, but once I've had a chance to try things and get moving a bit, I plan on writing about those things, as well as sharing pictures of what we have found has (or really hasn't) worked. So, until next time!

38 weeks

While I was lying in bed last week wide awake and thinking baby was on the way, there were lots of thoughts going through my head. One of those was about the state of chaos the nursery was still in. So I got mum to come over and she and I spent a couple of hours going through everything. The bike gear has all been sent to the shed, the Tupperware and Christmas decorations have been packed up and re-homed and the nursery finally looks like a kid’s room! We even set the bassinette up, so I could find out if I had the right sized sheets. It took a bit of trial and error, since we couldn't find any instructions, but we got there. Then of course the instructions turned up, in the secret pocket of the bottom. Where else would they be? I have even managed to clean some of the tyre marks off the walls, although only the ones I could reach, of course!   

We had a meeting last week with integrated living, one of the assistance schemes available in our area. We had a lady come out to visit and go through the paperwork needed to set me up as a client. Basically I've set it up so I can get assistance with housework and personal care after baby is born. I hopefully won't need it, but it's set up ready to go if I do!

I have been so sore lately! My neck and shoulders are full of rocks and so tight! The extra weight I'm carrying, combined with the poor posture it's giving me is not doing good things. When I get really tight in my shoulders, I get a nasty needle sensation. It's kind of like an itch, except it's under the skin and I can't scratch it, it only goes away when the knot is worked out. Which is not helpful when it's out of my reach. Poor Tim gets to help me deal with this at all hours of the night when it's keeping me awake. He tells me I've been snoring too, another common pregnancy symptom. At least my snoring will go away once the baby is born...

I remember talking to my rather-well-endowed-in-the-breast-department cousin about how she had had to start sleeping in bras while she was pregnant, because she needed the support. Can't say I had expected that to happen to me. Guess what? It has. 24 hour bra wearing it is! I've also noticed that my belly makes this really hard lump on my right hand side when I get up. Because I have a pillow under my hip to take the weight of my veins and nerves running down my spine, baby shifts to the side over night, resulting in a very lop sided bump when I first get up! 

So it’s been a rather eventful couple of weeks. First the floods and my waters breaking, oh wait, no they didn't. This week Tim and I got a really nasty bout of what we think was food poisoning. We both went to bed a few nights ago feeling awful and within a couple of hours poor Tim was suffering waves of vomit and diarrhoea. Fortunately for me, I don't eat as much as Tim, so I only had the vomiting and I hung on for a while before I started getting sick. I was feeling pretty bloody awful by morning, but nowhere near as bad as Tim was. He couldn't keep anything down and was starting to cramp up. He said to me at one stage that his cramps were the worst pain ever, or something along those lines. I think I told him we will decide that in a few weeks once this baby is out! 

By afternoon I wasn't keeping anything down either. I'd been drinking all day but I knew I was getting dehydrated anyway, so I gave the hospital a call and they told me to come in. I left Tim flat out on the couch and my mother in law drove me in. 

When I got in there, they stuck me in isolation, under suspicion of gastro and started to monitor the baby and I, take my vital signs, all the usual racket. My blood pressure is usually low, but it was very low by this stage, around 80 over 30. I wasn't feeling like it was particularly low, mostly just feeling really tired! So of course they stuck me on fluids. I know I've said this before, but I don't have good veins at the best of times. I though the doctor looking after me might have actually been able to hit a vein, but she struggled. Also, it turns out she was just a confident intern. From now on, no one is sticking needles in my veins unless they are a senior doctor, paramedic or pathology nurse. They seem to be the only people who can reliably hit my veins. I don't mind having students around and even having them use me to practice on most things, but that is now off limits. 

Next on the list was to insert a catheter and do an examination. They weren't in any hurry to give me a catheter, but with a cannula in my hand, I sure as hell couldn't do them myself! So the intern doctor came back to do both of those. Like last week, they used a speculum and had a look at my cervix to see what was going on. She was about to do that when she looked up and asked if I was scared of those too. I must have had the most dumbfounded look on my face as I told her of course not. I really wish I'd added that I wasn't scared of needles either; she had just really hurt me!! I think she might have got that idea when she saw how deep the bite marks I made on my arm were, as I was trying to distract myself. Anyhow, I digress. My cervix was not ready to let a baby out anytime soon and the baby wasn't 'engaged' so they were pretty confident my contractions were from the vomiting, not because I was going into labour. I was glad that I wasn't going into labour off no sleep, dehydrated and a day of vomiting, with Tim in even worse condition. 

There was one interesting thing to come from all this- I can definitely feel contractions!! I was lying in bed, waiting until I thought I could feel them, then checking the monitor to see if I was right. Once they got a bit stronger, I was getting it right basically 100% of the time. It feels like a tight band around my belly, and pressure on my bladder. I feel a bit more confident now that I'll know when I do go into labour. 

They ended up keeping me in overnight to monitor my contractions, then discharged me at lunchtime. 

I have been proven wrong! My butt pressure sore has indeed healed before baby’s arrival! One less thing to worry about there.

We have finally got the nursery to the stage where it actually looks like a nursery. (Obviously it takes me a while to write a post sometimes). I'm really happy with how it has come up. 

This makes me smile everytime

I've found that one of the things already-parents seem to delight in, is telling soon-to-be-parents about poonami's. For those of you fortunate enough to have never witnessed a poonami, it is literally a shit storm. A poo explosion. Every parent has experienced them and they give us almost parents these sage warnings and smile at each other as if to say 'oh they think they know what they are in for. How adorable'. While they are giving each other this look though, they miss the wry look between Tim and I that says 'oh I think we have a pretty good idea'. 

You see, part of having a spinal cord injury is that you have a limited amount of control over your bowels. Every para and quad out there has experienced some form of bowel incontinence at some stage. A lot of us are able to manage pretty well after a while, by medication and following a routine. However things don't always go to plan. In some ways the pregnancy constipation is easier, because it makes it highly unlikely that things are going to explode everywhere. Because I was in the hospital with a drip in my hand Tuesday night, I skipped my bowel meds. That was no problem, but it meant there was a bit of a back up a couple of days later. Let me tell you, a baby poonami has nothing on an adult one!! (Not to mention they are babies, they don't care. It's never fun as an adult having to deal with incontinence issues). So lesson to self, and others in my position, don't skip bowel meds at 8.5 months pregnant unless it's absolutely essential. Two showers and two toilet stops later.... No wonder I'd been feeling uncomfortable overnight! Also, total credit to Tim who is my runner is these situations, mainly to the washing machine and spare chair parts cupboard. It's not a fun job for either of us. After this week, what can a baby possibly throw/project as is we can't handle? Ha! 

We went into the hospital this week to have our check up with Dr D, only to find out she was sick with the flu. I went off to the bathroom to do my UTI sample and came back to find Tim had been busy while I was in there. They had had me booked in to see Dr P instead (the Dr who had wanted to book me in for a caesarean without even considering any other option), so Tim told them we didn't want to see him. They gave Dr D a call to see what she wanted to do and she's rescheduled our appointment for next week. That will be to check my progress, to see if I (and baby) am ready for an induction next week. We do have a date tentatively booked in, depending on our progress, but I won't be sharing that date here sorry. You'll just have to wait and see!

Well, I think that is about it for now. Who knows what I will have to write about next week?

37 weeks

I came across a comment recently, asking me to post daily, as I'm getting close to b-day. While this is a fabulous compliment (I think that means people are enjoying what I'm writing) I'm afraid that would be terribly boring! Unless I have appointments, most of my days are very dull at the moment. I stay at home, dressed in what Tim calls my koala suit, and my day basically goes: sleep in, eat, toilet, eat, shower, eat, nap and/or read, eat, cook dinner, eat, go to bed. If it's a particularly productive day, I might empty the drainer and do some dishes, write a blog post or do some work on my quilt instead of reading. I really don't have much energy or inclination to do anything more than that! Which is why the nursery is still full of boxes!

The 'koala suit.' Pregnancy fashion at its best.

I have now finished my Clexane injections, as per the anaesthetists instructions. Since my haemoglobin levels are still low, I want to minimise any bleeding during birth, so it's now time to lay off the anticoagulants. I'm now on aspirin instead, which is easier for the hospital to counteract.

I have been going to see my (awesome) GP and nurses twice a week to get the sore on my butt checked and dressed. While I'm quite comfortable in knowing when a would is doing what it's meant to do and when it needs to be seen by the doctor, I can't see this one, so I've left it entirely in their care, instead of doing every second dressing myself. Much to my surprise, it has healed much better than I expected and I was sent home with instructions to remove the dressing in a few days and it should be completely healed! They photo they showed me looked like it basically was. Sorry, not sharing butt pics here, you'll just have to take my word for it! So that is one less thing to worry about, one less would to risk getting infected. I'll still put another dressing on it though, since it's on an area that can get bumped easily. I don't want to open it up again, so I'll give it a bit of extra time to strengthen up.

For those of you on the other side of the world, poor little Tasmania has copped a bit of a beating the last few days. We have had a storm system move down the east coast of Australia causing almost cyclonic conditions. As a result, a good portion of Tassie has been flooded. We were ok at our place, (our creeks flooded, but they often do), but Launceston was flooded to almost record levels and a lot of the roads around our place were impassable, with several bridges being closed. Most of them are still closed now as they are structurally unsound. Anyway, as a result, the hospital called us to push our ultrasound back a day, since the sonographers couldn't get to work.

The (new) day of our ultrasound, I woke up at 4am in a big puddle. I got up to go to the bathroom and before I could get my catheter our to pee, there was a big gush of fluid. For those of you who are a bit naive in the area of childbirth, a gush of fluid, or waters breaking, is one of the big signs that baby is on its way. So I had a drink and went back to bed, then woke Tim up and told him. Of course we both tossed and turned for the next hour (or two, for me). After we had gotten up and had breakfast, I called the hospital and told me to come on in. Remember, we were still dealing with floods at this point and had to negotiate washed out roads and bridges. I had had some Braxton Hicks (practise contractions) over the past week or so and I was pretty sure I'd had some contractions that morning, though not very long or often. So I had a quick shower and we headed off to town!

In the middle of all this, Mum had headed to Hobart for the day, so she was at the other end of the state, with neither of us knowing what was going on. I told her to wait and I'd let her know what they said when we got to the hospital, but she headed back anyway. I can't say I blame her, it's not much fun, that feeling of helplessness, knowing there is nothing you can do, but desperatly needing to do something.

Once we arrived in at the hospital, they whisked us off to one of the birthing suites and hooked me up to a monitor. They took my blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels and monitored baby's heart rate. They also had another monitor on to measure any contractions I was having, and how often and strong they were. The results? Baby was happy but I wasn't having any contractions! They left the monitors on for half an hour, but it was showing nothing labour-ish. Dr D was on the ward and came in and checked on me. Another OB came in and did an ultrasound to check bub's position, then she did a physical exam, not unlike having a pap smear, except they use a speculum (is that right, the duck bill thing?) with a light on it and get you to cough, so they can see if you're leaking fluid. I couldn't feel anything, but I'm thinking it wouldn't be a particularly enjoyable sensation.

By this stage, they were feeling pretty confident it was a false alarm, but they weren't going to push me out the door if I wasn't convinced. Tim and I decided that since we had an ultrasound that afternoon, there wasn't much point in us going home, especially since we didn't know what was going on with the flood waters, so they put me in a room on the maternity ward to wait. Since I'd lost a bit of sleep that morning, I had a nap, while Tim went for a walk into town.

Monitoring baby's heartbeat and my (lack of) contractions.

Our ultrasound went well enough. This baby is a monster! It's weighing in at over 8 pounds already! 8 pounds would be fine if it was b-day already, but I'm only 37 weeks! It's head was measuring at 40-42 weeks! I'd been holding out hope that our last ultrasound had been right after a growth spurt, but I think I've just got a baby with a big head...

After our ultrasound, Dr D came to see us again. The ultrasound had shown normal levels of amniotic fluid and I'd not had any more leaking, so she was satisfied I'd had a 'false show' and nothing was going to happen as a result. She'd also got the result of my swab, showing I don't have strep B, so won't need antibiotics throughout labour, which was good. One less thing to worry about! We had a clinic appointment with her booked for the next morning, so we didn't have to go to that, but we will go in next week instead.

We also spoke about how long I might need to stay in hospital for (she couldn't really give me an answer, just when baby and I are both healthy and I'm feeding well etc) and about the option of switching to the private hospital after the birth if it looks like I'm going to be in for a while.

After all that, we made it out of the hospital just in time to go to tea and the Uni Review, as planned. All's well that ends well! Until next time!