Little Lump is a bloody gorgeous little boy. I love him so much. I had awful PND with Fatbum and felt very little for him until he was 4 months old. This time, it's instant and it's growing all the time. In a way, I feel bad that I never felt like this with Fatbum and missed so much, but I'm more grateful to be NORMAL despite everything.
Little Lump now weighs 10lb 11oz - a 3lb weightgain. I guess the cord knots were holding my poor baby up, and he's making up for lost time.
I'm trying to move house, Ex is being a shit and the stress is getting to me...but I am coping and I am fundamentally happy.
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Little Lump is here
Born 25th April, 2:24am
Sunday
I felt odd all day. I had a few really vicious cervical pains, but nothing major or long. My sisters all came round so we danced. Really danced. I was buggered up afterwards, but evidently it worked, lol. I kept feeling like my waters were going to break, but kept telling myself it was wishful thinking because I was getting closer to bedtime and my admission was looming. Everyone went home after dinner and I got Fatbum to bed, then went down to watch TV with Mum. This was around 9pm. I didn't feel right. I wasn't in pain, just felt restless and inverted. I had some ice cream and then fellt like I was weeing. I said to Mum "Either my water just broke or I'm incontinent". I asked her to come to the loo with me to check and when I got to the bottom of the stairs, it just POURED out. I went to the loo and it was clear with some blood in, but definitely water rather than wee. A load more came out on the loo. Mum went a bit hysterical - I think coz she was pleased it was finally happening rather than panicked - and got a shower curtain on the sofa in case I kept leaking. I called the midwife and she phoned back a few minutes later, saying she'd pop out around half 11 (my waters broke approx 9:30) and I phoned the ILs to come and get Fatbum. Poor Fatbum was totally baffled. I could have kept him home, but I didn't want him to be frightened. He was playing with all the towels and sheets Mum had got out ready. My FIL totally panicked when I rang him and looked terrified when he came round. I was fine, just sat on a towel in case I had any more major gushes, but in no pain. The midwife phoned again while the in laws were round to say she was gonna come over sooner rather than later. Then I kissed my boy goodbye and sat in curious limbo waiting for the midwife. I text Ex and told him my waters had gone and got back "OK. Good luck". lol.
The midwife (Suzy) turned up at half 10 and checked me over. My fundal height was 33cm by then - 9 weeks behind! She didn't want to do a VE until I was in labour coz of infection risk, so I took a low vag swab and she checked my wee and obs. Then we sort of sat around chatting. I'd had one, painless contraction before she arrived so she waited for me to have another. I told her when I had one, and the pain was in my kidneys. The pain went off long before the contraction did, coz she kept hold of me the whole time. She made me run up and down stairs a couple of times to try and get me going. I'd told her how Fatbum's labour had started almost identically, so she said she'd hang around rather than get home and have to come straight back out. I had my first "Oh shit, this is it" contraction around 11:30 and they started coming every 4 minutes after that. I didn't keep track at all, but Suzy did. C arrived around midnight - I told her she didn't have to come considering the hour, but I'm bloody glad she did after everything else that happened. By the time C got there, I was contracting regularly but not that painfully. I could still talk except at the very peak. Suzy did a VE around 12:15 and I was 2-3cm, not fully effaced, but very 'stretchy'. I felt a touch dishearted then, but then the contractions ramped up, probably from all the swishing of cervix. My labour 'start' time was 12:35am.
Monday
She phoned the second midwife out then. I was alright between contractions, but couldn't work out where I wanted to be when I was having them. I tried the toilet, which was OK. I tried crouching right down into my knees, which was really good for a while. Sue, the 2nd midwife, came out at about 1-ish. She came out in a rush because I was getting a bit pushy. They got nicely set up for the birth and then I tried kneeling on the sofa for the contractions, which was AMAZING. I recommend it. I knelt up the back and leaned on the back with a big sheet folded up under my face to whimper into. I have no idea what time anything much happened after I got on the sofa, mainly coz I had my back to the clock and everyone in the room. I kept trying to join in the conversation between contractions, but I was too buggered to turn round. I remember the midwives telling me I needed to take my trousers off and I thought "Not yet...not yet..." but then I started wanting to push at the top of the contraction, so they took my trousers off for me. It was very undignified for poor Suzy who was crouched between my legs ready to catch.
I had a couple of mega-contractions, and told Suzy I was definitely wanting to push. Then I had transition. I felt sick, but I wasn't sick, and started crying really quietly that I wanted to go to bed and I wanted my mum and suddenly thought "Bugger me, transition already". I don't think anyone heard me, I was mewing like a kitten with the pain, rather than howling. Then everything went really quiet and my next contraction had three pushes at the end of it. Mum and C thought I was lying when I said I wanted to push until I started bearing down, lol.
I started pushing around 2:10am. I couldn't coordinate it very well to start with, Mum told me to pull my chin in and focus DOWN so I tried doing that instead and that worked far better. Once his head was up to my cervix, I started getting really emotional and crying that I couldn't do it and I wanted to go to bed and I didn't want to. I remember crying "I can't, I can't, I can't" and everyone else saying "YOU CAN". Then his head crowned and I managed to breathe his head through rather than just push him straight out. I was absolutely SCREAMING by that point. I didn't mean to, I couldn't seem to help it. Then he was out, all flobbetyschlobbety. It was about 2:24am.
I was still facing away from everyone and it took a few seconds to pass him up through my legs. I kept crying that I wanted my baby. He didn't cry immediately, and it seemed an age before he did. He pinked up so fast once I had him and I rolled onto my back so I could feed him. Then I fed him and cuddled him and was a bit WOW.
In the mean time, carnage was happening. He had two true knots in his cord, which I didn't really think about right then, but his cord was thick and jelly-like at the umbilicus from where it was all pushed up. He's been double clamped. I planned to have a physiological third stage, but once the baby was born my womb didn't want to push anymore. Then I started to haemorrhage, so they gave me syntocin quickly and started tugging me about. I just wanted them to piss off and leave me alone, I felt horribly ill from the haemorrhage (my official blood loss was 650ml, so over 3 times the amount I lost with Fatbum) and I wanted to faint even though I was sitting down. I managed to push the placenta out myself, then they started fiddling about to see to what extent I'd torn. The light isn't great in my house, but they deduced that I had torn all the way through and would probably need stitching in theatre. By then, I just wanted everyone to FUCK OFF and leave me alone. They called me an ambulance and helped me get dressed and get Lump dressed. My mum washed all the blood off me - I looked like I'd been in a horrible accident, lol.
He was wide awake and staring at me and I had my hand under his bum and he felt like he did in the womb, coz I was so thin I could feel his bum really well within.
A first responder turned up first, to 'stop the clock' as they call it, at which the midwives were most scathing. The full crew showed up not long afterwards. The driver was FIT, lol. When I got up, I'd managed to bleed horribly all over the sofa despite the towels and sheeting, but Mum's got most of it out.
They got me in the ambulance and I sat on a stretcher holding Lump for his first car ride! Mum and C followed. All the neighbours must've thought something awful had happened coz I had two ambulances out! I got pulled through A+E on the stretcher and all the beaten up drunks had a look at Lump and said congratulations. I was bunged into CDS and transferred onto a bed.
A consultant came to poke me about some more. He said I'd torn all the way through, but not actually damaged anything in my arse, so I could be stitched as a second degree by a midwife. Neither Suzy nor Sue wanted to stitch me coz my sphincter was visible and they didn't want to fuck me up, so Stevie came to do it. She's the midwife who delivered Fatbum and did an excellent job of stitching that tear. Suzy told me my vaginal wall is very thin, hence why I tore so badly despite him being a smaller baby and a better controlled birth. While I was stitched up, they did Lump's weight and measurements. His head circ is 36cm and he weighs 7lb 12oz. This, to me, is tiny. It's slightly underweight for his gestational age. He was born at LEAST 8 days late, if not the full two weeks. If Fatbum had been that late, he would have been over 10lb - that's what I mean when I say he's tiny. He's small because of the cord knots as well as my general thinness.
I was stitched, then had a diclofenac suppository, then started wishing everyone would DIE and leave me alone, because there's only so much vag pulling about I can stand and the doctor was ROUGH. Suzy and Sue went home to sleep - poor Sue had a clinic yesterday and we had a cup of tea and some biscuits. Then C took Mum home. It was gone 6am by the time everyone went.
Nobody could get hold of Ex to tell him I'd had the baby because his phone died. I wonder if his bird turned the ringer off on purpose, because I'm paranoid like that. Lump settled nicely and I had a doze for a bit. Ex rang me. Eventually he'd got up and wondered why he had over 20 missed calls and two furious voicemails from his parents. A woman came and did his hearing test, then the evil midwife of husband-stealing came and did his paediatric check. I wonder if she knew I knew who she was? She looked dog rough, either way. Heh. Then I was discharged.
I LOVED his birth, I had the strange sensation of knowing EXACTLY where I was and what I was doing throughout the whole true labour. The cockup at the end is nobody's fault and didn't alienate me from the process at all. My arse is bruised as hell today and I must go to sleep!
Sunday
I felt odd all day. I had a few really vicious cervical pains, but nothing major or long. My sisters all came round so we danced. Really danced. I was buggered up afterwards, but evidently it worked, lol. I kept feeling like my waters were going to break, but kept telling myself it was wishful thinking because I was getting closer to bedtime and my admission was looming. Everyone went home after dinner and I got Fatbum to bed, then went down to watch TV with Mum. This was around 9pm. I didn't feel right. I wasn't in pain, just felt restless and inverted. I had some ice cream and then fellt like I was weeing. I said to Mum "Either my water just broke or I'm incontinent". I asked her to come to the loo with me to check and when I got to the bottom of the stairs, it just POURED out. I went to the loo and it was clear with some blood in, but definitely water rather than wee. A load more came out on the loo. Mum went a bit hysterical - I think coz she was pleased it was finally happening rather than panicked - and got a shower curtain on the sofa in case I kept leaking. I called the midwife and she phoned back a few minutes later, saying she'd pop out around half 11 (my waters broke approx 9:30) and I phoned the ILs to come and get Fatbum. Poor Fatbum was totally baffled. I could have kept him home, but I didn't want him to be frightened. He was playing with all the towels and sheets Mum had got out ready. My FIL totally panicked when I rang him and looked terrified when he came round. I was fine, just sat on a towel in case I had any more major gushes, but in no pain. The midwife phoned again while the in laws were round to say she was gonna come over sooner rather than later. Then I kissed my boy goodbye and sat in curious limbo waiting for the midwife. I text Ex and told him my waters had gone and got back "OK. Good luck". lol.
The midwife (Suzy) turned up at half 10 and checked me over. My fundal height was 33cm by then - 9 weeks behind! She didn't want to do a VE until I was in labour coz of infection risk, so I took a low vag swab and she checked my wee and obs. Then we sort of sat around chatting. I'd had one, painless contraction before she arrived so she waited for me to have another. I told her when I had one, and the pain was in my kidneys. The pain went off long before the contraction did, coz she kept hold of me the whole time. She made me run up and down stairs a couple of times to try and get me going. I'd told her how Fatbum's labour had started almost identically, so she said she'd hang around rather than get home and have to come straight back out. I had my first "Oh shit, this is it" contraction around 11:30 and they started coming every 4 minutes after that. I didn't keep track at all, but Suzy did. C arrived around midnight - I told her she didn't have to come considering the hour, but I'm bloody glad she did after everything else that happened. By the time C got there, I was contracting regularly but not that painfully. I could still talk except at the very peak. Suzy did a VE around 12:15 and I was 2-3cm, not fully effaced, but very 'stretchy'. I felt a touch dishearted then, but then the contractions ramped up, probably from all the swishing of cervix. My labour 'start' time was 12:35am.
Monday
She phoned the second midwife out then. I was alright between contractions, but couldn't work out where I wanted to be when I was having them. I tried the toilet, which was OK. I tried crouching right down into my knees, which was really good for a while. Sue, the 2nd midwife, came out at about 1-ish. She came out in a rush because I was getting a bit pushy. They got nicely set up for the birth and then I tried kneeling on the sofa for the contractions, which was AMAZING. I recommend it. I knelt up the back and leaned on the back with a big sheet folded up under my face to whimper into. I have no idea what time anything much happened after I got on the sofa, mainly coz I had my back to the clock and everyone in the room. I kept trying to join in the conversation between contractions, but I was too buggered to turn round. I remember the midwives telling me I needed to take my trousers off and I thought "Not yet...not yet..." but then I started wanting to push at the top of the contraction, so they took my trousers off for me. It was very undignified for poor Suzy who was crouched between my legs ready to catch.
I had a couple of mega-contractions, and told Suzy I was definitely wanting to push. Then I had transition. I felt sick, but I wasn't sick, and started crying really quietly that I wanted to go to bed and I wanted my mum and suddenly thought "Bugger me, transition already". I don't think anyone heard me, I was mewing like a kitten with the pain, rather than howling. Then everything went really quiet and my next contraction had three pushes at the end of it. Mum and C thought I was lying when I said I wanted to push until I started bearing down, lol.
I started pushing around 2:10am. I couldn't coordinate it very well to start with, Mum told me to pull my chin in and focus DOWN so I tried doing that instead and that worked far better. Once his head was up to my cervix, I started getting really emotional and crying that I couldn't do it and I wanted to go to bed and I didn't want to. I remember crying "I can't, I can't, I can't" and everyone else saying "YOU CAN". Then his head crowned and I managed to breathe his head through rather than just push him straight out. I was absolutely SCREAMING by that point. I didn't mean to, I couldn't seem to help it. Then he was out, all flobbetyschlobbety. It was about 2:24am.
I was still facing away from everyone and it took a few seconds to pass him up through my legs. I kept crying that I wanted my baby. He didn't cry immediately, and it seemed an age before he did. He pinked up so fast once I had him and I rolled onto my back so I could feed him. Then I fed him and cuddled him and was a bit WOW.
In the mean time, carnage was happening. He had two true knots in his cord, which I didn't really think about right then, but his cord was thick and jelly-like at the umbilicus from where it was all pushed up. He's been double clamped. I planned to have a physiological third stage, but once the baby was born my womb didn't want to push anymore. Then I started to haemorrhage, so they gave me syntocin quickly and started tugging me about. I just wanted them to piss off and leave me alone, I felt horribly ill from the haemorrhage (my official blood loss was 650ml, so over 3 times the amount I lost with Fatbum) and I wanted to faint even though I was sitting down. I managed to push the placenta out myself, then they started fiddling about to see to what extent I'd torn. The light isn't great in my house, but they deduced that I had torn all the way through and would probably need stitching in theatre. By then, I just wanted everyone to FUCK OFF and leave me alone. They called me an ambulance and helped me get dressed and get Lump dressed. My mum washed all the blood off me - I looked like I'd been in a horrible accident, lol.
He was wide awake and staring at me and I had my hand under his bum and he felt like he did in the womb, coz I was so thin I could feel his bum really well within.
A first responder turned up first, to 'stop the clock' as they call it, at which the midwives were most scathing. The full crew showed up not long afterwards. The driver was FIT, lol. When I got up, I'd managed to bleed horribly all over the sofa despite the towels and sheeting, but Mum's got most of it out.
They got me in the ambulance and I sat on a stretcher holding Lump for his first car ride! Mum and C followed. All the neighbours must've thought something awful had happened coz I had two ambulances out! I got pulled through A+E on the stretcher and all the beaten up drunks had a look at Lump and said congratulations. I was bunged into CDS and transferred onto a bed.
A consultant came to poke me about some more. He said I'd torn all the way through, but not actually damaged anything in my arse, so I could be stitched as a second degree by a midwife. Neither Suzy nor Sue wanted to stitch me coz my sphincter was visible and they didn't want to fuck me up, so Stevie came to do it. She's the midwife who delivered Fatbum and did an excellent job of stitching that tear. Suzy told me my vaginal wall is very thin, hence why I tore so badly despite him being a smaller baby and a better controlled birth. While I was stitched up, they did Lump's weight and measurements. His head circ is 36cm and he weighs 7lb 12oz. This, to me, is tiny. It's slightly underweight for his gestational age. He was born at LEAST 8 days late, if not the full two weeks. If Fatbum had been that late, he would have been over 10lb - that's what I mean when I say he's tiny. He's small because of the cord knots as well as my general thinness.
I was stitched, then had a diclofenac suppository, then started wishing everyone would DIE and leave me alone, because there's only so much vag pulling about I can stand and the doctor was ROUGH. Suzy and Sue went home to sleep - poor Sue had a clinic yesterday and we had a cup of tea and some biscuits. Then C took Mum home. It was gone 6am by the time everyone went.
Nobody could get hold of Ex to tell him I'd had the baby because his phone died. I wonder if his bird turned the ringer off on purpose, because I'm paranoid like that. Lump settled nicely and I had a doze for a bit. Ex rang me. Eventually he'd got up and wondered why he had over 20 missed calls and two furious voicemails from his parents. A woman came and did his hearing test, then the evil midwife of husband-stealing came and did his paediatric check. I wonder if she knew I knew who she was? She looked dog rough, either way. Heh. Then I was discharged.
I LOVED his birth, I had the strange sensation of knowing EXACTLY where I was and what I was doing throughout the whole true labour. The cockup at the end is nobody's fault and didn't alienate me from the process at all. My arse is bruised as hell today and I must go to sleep!
Friday, 22 April 2011
41+4
Today is the first day where I've felt REALLY pregnant. TOO pregnant.
I had a sweep on Tuesday. She told me she considered it favourable, going on my history of fast dilation from a clinically unready cervix. However, it is Friday and I remain pregnant. I have had a show, but not sure whether it was natural or triggered by the sweep. The plan is that on Monday, when I'm 42 weeks, I transfer to consultant care (so no homebirth) and they will want to do a prostin induction. Unless there's a problem with the baby, then I won't be consenting. It means I'll be swept again and go back a couple of days later to check the status quo, but I really don't want to be induced. Chances are, if induced, I'll have a very fast, very painful labour.
I'd much rather wait it out at home. I don't really mind having him in hospital, but I want to go home straight afterwards. It's easier to be discharged from midwife care than from cons care. I'll self discharge if I have to.
I'm not fed up of being pregnant, just of the anticipation. Mum's come to stay. I think she was expecting me to have delivered by now. My ex rings every day. He doesn't mind that I haven't delivered and is equally against induction, but I can tell he's getting anxious. My in laws are driving me crazy. They seem to think I'm deliberately not giving birth. Sigh.
I'd really like to cuddle my baby now.
I had a sweep on Tuesday. She told me she considered it favourable, going on my history of fast dilation from a clinically unready cervix. However, it is Friday and I remain pregnant. I have had a show, but not sure whether it was natural or triggered by the sweep. The plan is that on Monday, when I'm 42 weeks, I transfer to consultant care (so no homebirth) and they will want to do a prostin induction. Unless there's a problem with the baby, then I won't be consenting. It means I'll be swept again and go back a couple of days later to check the status quo, but I really don't want to be induced. Chances are, if induced, I'll have a very fast, very painful labour.
I'd much rather wait it out at home. I don't really mind having him in hospital, but I want to go home straight afterwards. It's easier to be discharged from midwife care than from cons care. I'll self discharge if I have to.
I'm not fed up of being pregnant, just of the anticipation. Mum's come to stay. I think she was expecting me to have delivered by now. My ex rings every day. He doesn't mind that I haven't delivered and is equally against induction, but I can tell he's getting anxious. My in laws are driving me crazy. They seem to think I'm deliberately not giving birth. Sigh.
I'd really like to cuddle my baby now.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
40+6
Still pregnant, but everything's done. Everything's ready. I've had a shit few days (my hot water broke, I had a scan, I had no birth partner available yesterday) and today my parents have helped me get everything done and all my worries are gone. So hopefully, my body will relax and the baby will be born.
I've been having pains all day, but labour is not established.
I've been having pains all day, but labour is not established.
Thursday, 14 April 2011
40+3
So, baby measures 35cm. But he's 2/5s palpable, which means his head is bloody far down and won't drop much more before birth. Nonetheless, I had a scan yesterday to check his growth and he's fine. He weighs around 2lb less than his brother did, but that's within normal limits at his gestational age. So, the consultant cleared me for a homebirth and sent me home to await events.
I await them, impatiently.
Nothing's happening apart from nonspecific cramps and backache and the odd prolonged braxton hicks. No show, no waters, no bleeding. Nothing.
I want it over, primarily because I'm an emotional wreck. I don't know what feelings are valid and which are hormonal. Then ones I have that ARE valid are discounted by others as hormones. Yes, Ex, I'm talking about you.
I await them, impatiently.
Nothing's happening apart from nonspecific cramps and backache and the odd prolonged braxton hicks. No show, no waters, no bleeding. Nothing.
I want it over, primarily because I'm an emotional wreck. I don't know what feelings are valid and which are hormonal. Then ones I have that ARE valid are discounted by others as hormones. Yes, Ex, I'm talking about you.
Monday, 11 April 2011
40
D day has passed. Well, not entirely, but unless I squeeze this baby out in the next 3 and a half hours, I'm gonna be overdue. This is no great surprise.
I've had no real signs. A few painful cramps and twinges. I keep feeling like I'm leaking water, but when I check, I'm not. I'm so emotional. I spent the morning feeling like a sack of shit, lying on my bed. I got up and had lunch and a bath, then played xbox all afternoon. Fatbum was with his nana. So you'd think I'd feel rested now, but I don't. I feel shit. I feel lonely and I miss the ex. I want a curry and a bumpy drive and some sex and since I can't drive and the curryhouse doesn't deliver, I'm getting none of them.
I'm ready for this to be done now. I have a midwife appointment tommorow.
I've had no real signs. A few painful cramps and twinges. I keep feeling like I'm leaking water, but when I check, I'm not. I'm so emotional. I spent the morning feeling like a sack of shit, lying on my bed. I got up and had lunch and a bath, then played xbox all afternoon. Fatbum was with his nana. So you'd think I'd feel rested now, but I don't. I feel shit. I feel lonely and I miss the ex. I want a curry and a bumpy drive and some sex and since I can't drive and the curryhouse doesn't deliver, I'm getting none of them.
I'm ready for this to be done now. I have a midwife appointment tommorow.
Sunday, 10 April 2011
39+6
Tommorow is D day.
Well, it probably won't be.
But it's symbolic D day.
I've been having cramps and contractions for a few days, but no show. I wish labour would start with a giant vaginal gong sounding. At least then, I wouldn't constantly be second guessing my body. I had such painful, grindy cramps last night for an hour, I was convinced that was it. But it wasn't, so I cried instead *cue eyeroll*.
I have managed to not cry today. I am hopelessly confused about Ex. I don't know how to feel about him anymore. He's being sweet. I miss him. I miss being parents. I don't especially miss him being an arsehole, or living with him. But I miss him being part of my life. He still is part of my life. He always will be. That's the joy of children.
Well, it probably won't be.
But it's symbolic D day.
I've been having cramps and contractions for a few days, but no show. I wish labour would start with a giant vaginal gong sounding. At least then, I wouldn't constantly be second guessing my body. I had such painful, grindy cramps last night for an hour, I was convinced that was it. But it wasn't, so I cried instead *cue eyeroll*.
I have managed to not cry today. I am hopelessly confused about Ex. I don't know how to feel about him anymore. He's being sweet. I miss him. I miss being parents. I don't especially miss him being an arsehole, or living with him. But I miss him being part of my life. He still is part of my life. He always will be. That's the joy of children.
Thursday, 7 April 2011
39+3
I feel bad for wanting this baby out now. I have friends who struggle to stay pregnant and for whom every additional day the baby stays within, their chances increase. And here I am, wishing my baby would crack on before my actual due date.
But then I feel bad because I'm so pregnant, I'm a basic failure of a mother. I daren't do ANYTHING. Daren't take Fatbum to the shop or the park, daren't make any plans. He is bored out of his toddlerish mind. I have people to take him for me, but these are our last days as just Mummy and Fatbum and I'm wishing them away.
I'm getting a few signs that I may not be pregnant forever. Nothing definite. I rather think he may come at the weekend, but knowing my poor judgement, I'll probably go WEEKS overdue.
But then I feel bad because I'm so pregnant, I'm a basic failure of a mother. I daren't do ANYTHING. Daren't take Fatbum to the shop or the park, daren't make any plans. He is bored out of his toddlerish mind. I have people to take him for me, but these are our last days as just Mummy and Fatbum and I'm wishing them away.
I'm getting a few signs that I may not be pregnant forever. Nothing definite. I rather think he may come at the weekend, but knowing my poor judgement, I'll probably go WEEKS overdue.
Monday, 4 April 2011
39+0
Seven days. One week.
I've had intermittent cramps all afternoon, the baby feels lower and I generally feel like the off may not be a million years away.
Odd, as most of the time, my brain has trouble with me even being pregnant, nevermind IMMINENT.
The Ex is behaving moderately well, for a change. I think reality is sinking in a bit. I'll be glad when it's over. I'm unwell, tired, achey and the only thing that isn't giving me gyp is my SIZE because I'm not that big. With Fatbum being such a BIG bum, this baby feels tiny. He's average, but compared to Fatbum, that's tiny.
I've had intermittent cramps all afternoon, the baby feels lower and I generally feel like the off may not be a million years away.
Odd, as most of the time, my brain has trouble with me even being pregnant, nevermind IMMINENT.
The Ex is behaving moderately well, for a change. I think reality is sinking in a bit. I'll be glad when it's over. I'm unwell, tired, achey and the only thing that isn't giving me gyp is my SIZE because I'm not that big. With Fatbum being such a BIG bum, this baby feels tiny. He's average, but compared to Fatbum, that's tiny.
Saturday, 2 April 2011
38+5
I've had a FUN WEEK (not)
I've got a UTI. Nobody has given me any treatment yet and I'm in agony today. Every time Lump brushes me bladder, I'm in a paroxysm of pain.
I had the midwife on Wednesday. Lump is measuring 34cm and she couldn't tell if he was breech or ceph, so I had a jolly emergency scan. Lo! Lump is cephalic, a healthy size (though small compared to his giant brother) and slightly polyhydramnios. Nothing to worry about, I just expect a messy, wet birth and a small baby. I say small, he'll probably be 7ish pounds. Fatbum was over 9lb.
In cheerier news, he's starting to engage. As he's my second baby, this probably means he will be born fairly soon. The emotional balls of being pregnant with HIS baby is taking it's toll. Although I'm not especially uncomfortable, just tired, I am sick of being pregnant. Sick of knowing it's his baby. Sick of wondering just how useless he'll be, hypothesising how much lower he will sink. Trying desperately not to hope, yet hoping all the same that somehow he'll transform back into the man I wanted kids with.
I disgust myself.
His brother announced they're having a new baby. It galls me.
9 days til I'm due. 9 days til I can stop torturing myself with what-ifs.
I've got a UTI. Nobody has given me any treatment yet and I'm in agony today. Every time Lump brushes me bladder, I'm in a paroxysm of pain.
I had the midwife on Wednesday. Lump is measuring 34cm and she couldn't tell if he was breech or ceph, so I had a jolly emergency scan. Lo! Lump is cephalic, a healthy size (though small compared to his giant brother) and slightly polyhydramnios. Nothing to worry about, I just expect a messy, wet birth and a small baby. I say small, he'll probably be 7ish pounds. Fatbum was over 9lb.
In cheerier news, he's starting to engage. As he's my second baby, this probably means he will be born fairly soon. The emotional balls of being pregnant with HIS baby is taking it's toll. Although I'm not especially uncomfortable, just tired, I am sick of being pregnant. Sick of knowing it's his baby. Sick of wondering just how useless he'll be, hypothesising how much lower he will sink. Trying desperately not to hope, yet hoping all the same that somehow he'll transform back into the man I wanted kids with.
I disgust myself.
His brother announced they're having a new baby. It galls me.
9 days til I'm due. 9 days til I can stop torturing myself with what-ifs.
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
37+2
Erk.
37 weeks
Erk.
That's pretty much full term, isn't it? I mean, the hospital won't let me have my homebirth til 38 weeks (unless I just sit at home and refuse to go in, but I probably wouldn't do that!) but 38 weeks is on Monday...it's almost Thursday...
Did I mention that I'm having this baby at home? If anyone calls me brave, I shall bite them. My Fatbum came out so quick that it was verging on dangerous - precipitate labour is associated with increased incidence of infection in both mother and baby and increased risk of haemorrhage. I could have given birth to him on the side of the road, t'was nought but will power that stopped me pushing when my body was SCREAMING at me to PLEASE PUSH.
So, it's not a question of bravery, but one of safety and practicality. I can't drive, I live alone. I can't get myself to hospital if labour begins at a perilously fast rate. Let them come to me!
Home delivery means you have at least one midwife with you at all times. No sitting around waiting for them to finally get to you. Home delivery means if there is a complication, you're fasttracked to the front of the queue. I live 10 minutes from hospital: if there's an emergency, I'll probably see a consultant faster than if I'd been an inpatient.
I am looking forward to giving birth. I'm not afraid of it. I just want it done. I want to see my baby. I want to hold him and feed him and know he's OK and that I'm OK with him.
I did all my washing and packing today. I've packed an emergency hospital bag, just in case. If all goes to plan, it means all my postnatal stuff is in one place. One of my kitchen cupboards is now full of shower curtains, old sheets and a couple of towels. I have washed ALL my 0-3 months baby clothes from having Fatbum and folded them nicely and put them away. I am more or less ready.
I've been having a few signs that everything is progressing as it should be. A massive hormone surge, the baby appears to be engaging slowly (and painfully) and more frequent, lower braxton hicks.
I recently became an auntie again and the newborn has quite literally fired up my maternal instinct to MAJOR new highs.
Fatbum was two at the weekend. He is absolutely bloody adorable. He makes my heart gooify.
I'm on maternity leave now. I should probably post more.
37 weeks
Erk.
That's pretty much full term, isn't it? I mean, the hospital won't let me have my homebirth til 38 weeks (unless I just sit at home and refuse to go in, but I probably wouldn't do that!) but 38 weeks is on Monday...it's almost Thursday...
Did I mention that I'm having this baby at home? If anyone calls me brave, I shall bite them. My Fatbum came out so quick that it was verging on dangerous - precipitate labour is associated with increased incidence of infection in both mother and baby and increased risk of haemorrhage. I could have given birth to him on the side of the road, t'was nought but will power that stopped me pushing when my body was SCREAMING at me to PLEASE PUSH.
So, it's not a question of bravery, but one of safety and practicality. I can't drive, I live alone. I can't get myself to hospital if labour begins at a perilously fast rate. Let them come to me!
Home delivery means you have at least one midwife with you at all times. No sitting around waiting for them to finally get to you. Home delivery means if there is a complication, you're fasttracked to the front of the queue. I live 10 minutes from hospital: if there's an emergency, I'll probably see a consultant faster than if I'd been an inpatient.
I am looking forward to giving birth. I'm not afraid of it. I just want it done. I want to see my baby. I want to hold him and feed him and know he's OK and that I'm OK with him.
I did all my washing and packing today. I've packed an emergency hospital bag, just in case. If all goes to plan, it means all my postnatal stuff is in one place. One of my kitchen cupboards is now full of shower curtains, old sheets and a couple of towels. I have washed ALL my 0-3 months baby clothes from having Fatbum and folded them nicely and put them away. I am more or less ready.
I've been having a few signs that everything is progressing as it should be. A massive hormone surge, the baby appears to be engaging slowly (and painfully) and more frequent, lower braxton hicks.
I recently became an auntie again and the newborn has quite literally fired up my maternal instinct to MAJOR new highs.
Fatbum was two at the weekend. He is absolutely bloody adorable. He makes my heart gooify.
I'm on maternity leave now. I should probably post more.
Thursday, 17 March 2011
36w+3d
I have pretty much given up all hope of the ex ever being a decent person. It's Fatbum's birthday on sunday and he refuses to come over and see him, because I won't let him take him out. No, I won't. He's my son, this is his home and people are coming to see him. It's not about Ex, and if he can't pull his head of his arse and put up for one day, then he can fuck off. It still upsets me. I thought he was a decent man and he isn't and I feel guilty for having children with him because he can't put them first. He's seeing him on Saturday, but only for a couple of hours, and thinks that is sufficent. He's a twat.
Why does everything have to be such a struggle? It's only a struggle or a problem because of him refusing to face people who might be slightly judgemental or because of his jealous, hissy-fit bird.
As far as the baby's concerned, my mind has shifted gear recently. Instead of feeling continually rejected by ex, I'm just getting on with it. I'm still in denial. I don't really believe this baby will come out. But, I need to stop relying on Ex to make me feel better about it because his head is trapped for eternity under the sand. He still seems to think the baby will never be born and I don't know what the hell he's going to do after I give birth. I hope he steps up, but I don't think he will. He's pathetic.
In the mean time, I am trying to get ready for the imminent arrival. Not easy, when all the stuff I would normally expect Ex to do gets put off and put off because he can't be arsed. Like assembling new furniture and getting baby things out of the loft. I haven't even got the buggy set up yet. And he's given me no money for anything baby related, despite promising to help me buy the buggy and maternity clothes. Stuff I, y'know, NEED.
Bump is still measuring a bit small, but Lump is apparently well curled up, which explains why. I may be hiding Gigantababy in there after all. I've had thrush for bloody ages from being on a cocktail of antibiotics for practically six weeks. My anaemia levels are all sorting themselves out and I feel pretty good - not too uncomfortable or achey and not too big.
I feel whiny and annoyed because I am sick of him acting like I want him back when I bloody don't. At all. Ever. I just want my kids to have a decent father, who puts them first, at least now and then. Instead, I have a selfish wanker who is so detached from reality, we might as well not exist.
Why does everything have to be such a struggle? It's only a struggle or a problem because of him refusing to face people who might be slightly judgemental or because of his jealous, hissy-fit bird.
As far as the baby's concerned, my mind has shifted gear recently. Instead of feeling continually rejected by ex, I'm just getting on with it. I'm still in denial. I don't really believe this baby will come out. But, I need to stop relying on Ex to make me feel better about it because his head is trapped for eternity under the sand. He still seems to think the baby will never be born and I don't know what the hell he's going to do after I give birth. I hope he steps up, but I don't think he will. He's pathetic.
In the mean time, I am trying to get ready for the imminent arrival. Not easy, when all the stuff I would normally expect Ex to do gets put off and put off because he can't be arsed. Like assembling new furniture and getting baby things out of the loft. I haven't even got the buggy set up yet. And he's given me no money for anything baby related, despite promising to help me buy the buggy and maternity clothes. Stuff I, y'know, NEED.
Bump is still measuring a bit small, but Lump is apparently well curled up, which explains why. I may be hiding Gigantababy in there after all. I've had thrush for bloody ages from being on a cocktail of antibiotics for practically six weeks. My anaemia levels are all sorting themselves out and I feel pretty good - not too uncomfortable or achey and not too big.
I feel whiny and annoyed because I am sick of him acting like I want him back when I bloody don't. At all. Ever. I just want my kids to have a decent father, who puts them first, at least now and then. Instead, I have a selfish wanker who is so detached from reality, we might as well not exist.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
34+3
The baby is now measuring 34cm, although the midwife thinks he will be a smaller baby, under 8lb. I can't imagine having a baby that small after having 9lb+ Fatbum. I think he will be smaller too. Although currently I feel VERY FULL of child. His bum is just below my sternum and his head is free and around my pelvis. I cannot bend. There is nowhere for him to go. I can't wait for him to start engaging, but that's probably going to be another four weeks.
I'm so tired. Hb was 10.3 last week, so it's probably lower by now. I start iron tommorow when I pick my prescription up. I'm really very symptomatic. B12 isn't doing too badly though.
Fatbum is utterly adorable at the moment. This is SUCH a lovely age. A shame the ex is missing out on a lot of it by not getting his priorities straight. Fatbum turns two in a few short weeks. Unbelievable. He's just covered me in stickers.
I'm starting to want the Lump now. Really want him, not just hope for the best when he comes. I find myself wondering what he'll look like and who he'll resemble more. I wonder if he'll be a mini-Fatbum or whether he'll be completely different. I wonder how he'll feed and whether he'll be a fussy or calm baby. I know that when I hold him, I'll know this was worth it.
I am dreading the postnatal period. But I have survived THIS. I am not dead. I can survive more. And one day it won't hurt so much.
I'm so tired. Hb was 10.3 last week, so it's probably lower by now. I start iron tommorow when I pick my prescription up. I'm really very symptomatic. B12 isn't doing too badly though.
Fatbum is utterly adorable at the moment. This is SUCH a lovely age. A shame the ex is missing out on a lot of it by not getting his priorities straight. Fatbum turns two in a few short weeks. Unbelievable. He's just covered me in stickers.
I'm starting to want the Lump now. Really want him, not just hope for the best when he comes. I find myself wondering what he'll look like and who he'll resemble more. I wonder if he'll be a mini-Fatbum or whether he'll be completely different. I wonder how he'll feed and whether he'll be a fussy or calm baby. I know that when I hold him, I'll know this was worth it.
I am dreading the postnatal period. But I have survived THIS. I am not dead. I can survive more. And one day it won't hurt so much.
Thursday, 17 February 2011
32+3
So, the baby's slightly small for dates. He was growing normally until this week and now his fundal height has dropped by a centimetre. It's not even clinically SFD, but because of the stress and everything, they're keeping an eye on it. If he's not up to 34cm at 34w, I need a growth scan. I'm fairly sure HE is growing fine, I think it's ME that isn't.
I still feel horribly confused and messed up. I don't know how to CONNECT to him. I might as well have a football under my skin for all I relate to him. I don't even notice him kicking most of the time. It's not how I ever thought I would be when pregnant. When I think how much I WANTED to get pregnant, when I think how I felt when I was expecting his brother. I hate myself for feeling like this. I'd give anything to be able to stop thinking of him negatively, and start wanting him.
I wish I could fastforward the next two months and just deliver him and see him and feel him and know he's mine. I imagine birth will be quite cathartic. I don't know though. I'm scared I'll feel nothing for him when he's actually born.
His father is useless. Worse than useless, because if he was actually useless, then I'd be able to forget about him. He does little tiny things that give me hope - not for reconcilliation, I'm way past THAT, but hope that he will be good dad to this baby - and then he smashes those hopes with a lumphammer. How can you not want time off work when you're baby's born? How can you say you'll support your ex and older child when you won't even TRY and be there?
He's a failure as a husband and a father. He's a failure as a man. I hope the guilt eats him alive.
I hate always having to be the strong one. I don't feel very strong. I feel like I'm being waterboarded, and everytime I think I've finally lost consciousness and died, the bastards wake me back up again and it starts all over. I want some peace. I don't want to die, I just want some peace.
I still feel horribly confused and messed up. I don't know how to CONNECT to him. I might as well have a football under my skin for all I relate to him. I don't even notice him kicking most of the time. It's not how I ever thought I would be when pregnant. When I think how much I WANTED to get pregnant, when I think how I felt when I was expecting his brother. I hate myself for feeling like this. I'd give anything to be able to stop thinking of him negatively, and start wanting him.
I wish I could fastforward the next two months and just deliver him and see him and feel him and know he's mine. I imagine birth will be quite cathartic. I don't know though. I'm scared I'll feel nothing for him when he's actually born.
His father is useless. Worse than useless, because if he was actually useless, then I'd be able to forget about him. He does little tiny things that give me hope - not for reconcilliation, I'm way past THAT, but hope that he will be good dad to this baby - and then he smashes those hopes with a lumphammer. How can you not want time off work when you're baby's born? How can you say you'll support your ex and older child when you won't even TRY and be there?
He's a failure as a husband and a father. He's a failure as a man. I hope the guilt eats him alive.
I hate always having to be the strong one. I don't feel very strong. I feel like I'm being waterboarded, and everytime I think I've finally lost consciousness and died, the bastards wake me back up again and it starts all over. I want some peace. I don't want to die, I just want some peace.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
30w 5d
I really am very doom and gloom about this baby. I have good reason, but it's not all bad.
For instance, compared to my first pregnancy, this one is Piss Easy physically. My bump is far smaller (for which, see comparison below), I get intermittent indigestion, very little nausea and I don't need to pee all the time. Yet. But I do have stress incontinence. Which is a bit a large price to pay! COUGH-pee. SNEEZE-pee. LAUGH-pee.
I also have intermittent SPD. Which sucks. People who have not known pregnancy rarely know what SPD is. Basically, it's bloody painful pelvic instability from having your hips/pelvis forced apart by a large, human head. I end up WADDLING or walking bent forward like a CRONE. It's not constant yet, so I am putting up with it.
The baby is very, very kicky. Even at this belated stage, he gives it good with his little legs and arms. Oft I feel like I have swallowed a jelly. With arms. Perhaps a squid is a better comparison.
My Fatbum loves the bump and kisses it and cuddles it. I think he KNOWS there's a baby in there, though I'm not sure how. I have explained there's a baby in my tummy. He seems to think my bellybutton is a PORTAL TO THE CHILD.
It kinda is I suppose!
Anyway, photo comparison:
I don't look that much smaller, but this bump is FAR more compact and lighter.
For instance, compared to my first pregnancy, this one is Piss Easy physically. My bump is far smaller (for which, see comparison below), I get intermittent indigestion, very little nausea and I don't need to pee all the time. Yet. But I do have stress incontinence. Which is a bit a large price to pay! COUGH-pee. SNEEZE-pee. LAUGH-pee.
I also have intermittent SPD. Which sucks. People who have not known pregnancy rarely know what SPD is. Basically, it's bloody painful pelvic instability from having your hips/pelvis forced apart by a large, human head. I end up WADDLING or walking bent forward like a CRONE. It's not constant yet, so I am putting up with it.
The baby is very, very kicky. Even at this belated stage, he gives it good with his little legs and arms. Oft I feel like I have swallowed a jelly. With arms. Perhaps a squid is a better comparison.
My Fatbum loves the bump and kisses it and cuddles it. I think he KNOWS there's a baby in there, though I'm not sure how. I have explained there's a baby in my tummy. He seems to think my bellybutton is a PORTAL TO THE CHILD.
It kinda is I suppose!
Anyway, photo comparison:
I don't look that much smaller, but this bump is FAR more compact and lighter.
Friday, 28 January 2011
29+4
I'm nearly 30 weeks. Three quarters of the way through. Just over two months to go.
I'm incredibly messed up at the moment. My ex doesn't seem to want to know much about the baby, and yet claims to want him. I just don't really want to go through it. I know it's going to break my mind, having this baby. And I don't know if I am strong enough to deal with that. I suspect not. I'm falling apart already.
I ask myself a thousand times a week why I kept this baby. And the fact is, I knew I couldn't abort him. I could feel him kicking. I used to wish every day for about three weeks that one day I would just lose him. God, that sounds awful, but it's how I felt. Then one day, around 17 weeks, I felt him kick from the outside. And that was the conflict over.
But I still feel conned into keeping this baby by a man who promised me things he can't deliver.
I will have to be mother and father. And yet my other son has a father, the same father, who is very active in his life.
Everything will change when he's born. Everything and nothing. There's not an ounce of forgiveness in my soul.
I'm incredibly messed up at the moment. My ex doesn't seem to want to know much about the baby, and yet claims to want him. I just don't really want to go through it. I know it's going to break my mind, having this baby. And I don't know if I am strong enough to deal with that. I suspect not. I'm falling apart already.
I ask myself a thousand times a week why I kept this baby. And the fact is, I knew I couldn't abort him. I could feel him kicking. I used to wish every day for about three weeks that one day I would just lose him. God, that sounds awful, but it's how I felt. Then one day, around 17 weeks, I felt him kick from the outside. And that was the conflict over.
But I still feel conned into keeping this baby by a man who promised me things he can't deliver.
I will have to be mother and father. And yet my other son has a father, the same father, who is very active in his life.
Everything will change when he's born. Everything and nothing. There's not an ounce of forgiveness in my soul.
Thursday, 13 January 2011
27+3
The third trimester is upon me, bringing with it severe anaemia. Well, I don't know HOW severe but this is when it suddenly dropped with Fatbum so I'm guessing that's why I feel like I've been poleaxed. I saw my midwife on tuesday and she thinks I'm probably losing a lot of blood via my nose, since I have a pretty much continuous nosebleed, usually with clots. I SNORT IT BACK all day. It's horrible. I'm having my bloods done tommorow. It's all routine, but I also need a clotting screen and iron profile. BAH! I say bah, but I really hope my B12 and Hb levels have dropped to a level that is OK to prescribe at. My B12 is just above borderline and my Hb is 11.3. Since then, I've had a terrible stomach bug, so hopefully that's driven me down.
I must be the only person who HOPES to be clinically anaemic every blood test!
I've also had a dental infection. Need to try and get to a dentist next week and I've been prescribed valium. ONE dose only, but it should get me over the initial panic.
My ex is moving away on saturday. This GALLS me. He's not moving very far, it's an hour in bad traffic, but he's still leaving the area when I'm 6 months pregnant and NEED his support the most. I know why he's moving (and he's moving with HER which sucks even more), but I wish he would wait til after the birth.
Aside from that and our total inability to discuss what happened, he's actually being moderately supportive. His parents are unbearable - they treat Fatbum as their own, don't acknowledge our split or the baby and offer very little support to me. I dread them. Luckily, so does he, for the same reason.
He still doesn't really interact with bump, but he's getting much better.
I wonder what will happen when the baby's born? I really think it's going to utterly evaporate the stasis we've managed to work our way round to.
Less than three months now until he makes his exit, unless he's late. Which he probably will be. I reckon he'll be born april 16th.
I must be the only person who HOPES to be clinically anaemic every blood test!
I've also had a dental infection. Need to try and get to a dentist next week and I've been prescribed valium. ONE dose only, but it should get me over the initial panic.
My ex is moving away on saturday. This GALLS me. He's not moving very far, it's an hour in bad traffic, but he's still leaving the area when I'm 6 months pregnant and NEED his support the most. I know why he's moving (and he's moving with HER which sucks even more), but I wish he would wait til after the birth.
Aside from that and our total inability to discuss what happened, he's actually being moderately supportive. His parents are unbearable - they treat Fatbum as their own, don't acknowledge our split or the baby and offer very little support to me. I dread them. Luckily, so does he, for the same reason.
He still doesn't really interact with bump, but he's getting much better.
I wonder what will happen when the baby's born? I really think it's going to utterly evaporate the stasis we've managed to work our way round to.
Less than three months now until he makes his exit, unless he's late. Which he probably will be. I reckon he'll be born april 16th.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
26+1. You know what's unfair?
When you no longer want your baby, your baby that you TTC'd for seven months for. Your baby that you thought would complete your family and your happiness. Your baby that seemed to push your husband into the arms of someone else because of the hormonal aftermath unleashed by early pregnancy. Your baby who you totally cut off for for weeks to try and get over what had happened. Your baby who kicks you all night and day as if trying to remind you everything will get better. Your baby who nobody else seems to give a fuck about. Your baby who is genetically the same as his adored older brother, and yet treated completely differently by everyone...
I feel like a terrible mother. Even though I know this won't last and I WILL want him and things WILL get easier. I feel so guilty, because my friends TTC for years, lose babies at all stages, and I'm blessed with a healthy baby and don't want him. I don't know HOW to get through the pain of what his father did to me and reconnect with him. To stop holding it against him, like any of it was his fault.
I knew I couldn't abort a baby who I could feel kicking. I knew, after miscarrying once all those years ago, that I could never throw a child's life away just because of a difficult situation. But I wanted to. I wanted to be able to pretend the guilt wouldn't kill me. I wanted to pretend I didn't care.
I do care. I love my son. I'll always love him. I just need to try very hard to want him, to get through this wall of pain and concentrate on raising my two boys.
I just have bad days and today is a very bad day.
I feel like a terrible mother. Even though I know this won't last and I WILL want him and things WILL get easier. I feel so guilty, because my friends TTC for years, lose babies at all stages, and I'm blessed with a healthy baby and don't want him. I don't know HOW to get through the pain of what his father did to me and reconnect with him. To stop holding it against him, like any of it was his fault.
I knew I couldn't abort a baby who I could feel kicking. I knew, after miscarrying once all those years ago, that I could never throw a child's life away just because of a difficult situation. But I wanted to. I wanted to be able to pretend the guilt wouldn't kill me. I wanted to pretend I didn't care.
I do care. I love my son. I'll always love him. I just need to try very hard to want him, to get through this wall of pain and concentrate on raising my two boys.
I just have bad days and today is a very bad day.
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