Fear and doting in mass vagueness - a guest appearance from DH

Hello?...

Hello?...

Is there anyone there?...

Oh, hello, it's you! Good. It's my first time in blog world and I wondered who I might find in here - there are some weird sorts around you know.

So, apparently my name in here is DH. That's not my name. It's not even my initials (although I have been called things with those initials before) but it seems that there is a different language here, with strange acronyms for otherwise simple concepts - seemingly to protect the innocent. I do feel that I should try to speak in the local dialect (and should certainly protect the innocent) but am entirely ignorant as to the correct acronym for the correct innocent - so I'll make up my own as we go.

Still with me? Good.

You're probably wondering when things changed. It's true that things have always changed and will always change (so you could, quite legitimately, pick any point in time as your answer, close this blog and go look at some videos of cats acting suspiciously like they always have, and always will, know more than they're letting on) but some changes are bigger than others, more significant, more unexpected.

This particular change started with a dream - a dream that MOOB (Mother Of Our Baby) had leant over me in the early hours of the morning and told me that her waters had broken. Being a dream, I was somewhat detached from the emotions of such an announcement. I should have felt abject terror and shortness of breath - the sort of panic usually reserved for the split second when you realise that the seat that you're expecting your backside to land on isn't actually there and that a hard, painful crash to the ground is both imminent and inevitable. Instead I just felt a mild sense of confusion, which is a state I am familiar and comfortable with in equal measure.

I awoke from this dream shortly afterwards. MOOB was also awake. She was jibber-jabbering at me. Although the conversation was difficult to pick up due the length of time it takes me to make the journey from sleep to full consciousness, it was clear that she had been jibber-jabbering at me for some time. It wasn't long before she told me that her waters had broken. She wanted to know why I wasn't listening the first time she told me. Thankfully I had just practiced this - mild confusion was the answer, no need for abject terror. Regular readers of her blog might have already worked out that she's pretty chilled out about stuff, so it didn't take us long to agree that labour takes time and that the best thing for everyone concerned was for me to go back to sleep and save my energy for later. The change had begun. The abject terror I had expected and prepared for had been replaced by mild confusion and 'everyone concerned' suddenly meant more than just me and MOOB. Soon there would be an ODBOJ (Our Darling Bundle Of Joy).

I won't go into the details of labour - suffice to say that, from this side of the fence at least, it was relatively painless. It did end in theatre though and, because it ended in theatre, when ODBOJ was born he was thrust into the arms of MOOB for the briefest of moments before being whisked away to be checked by one of the army of blue gown wearing onlookers. As the only remaining parent who still had the use of their legs I was soon summoned over to 'say hello' to ODBOJ. There he was. He was quiet. The initial screams had lasted less than a minute. This is good I thought, not being a fan of screaming.

So, what do you say when you're confronted with your own son for the first time and MOOB, who's supposed to know what to do in these situations, is busy trying to demonstrate the YMCA dance with her legs? I went with something like this...

"Hey, little fella. Welcome to what we call 'The World' - sorry about the entrance. Don't worry, it's not as scary as it looks. I'm called Daddy and I'll be your guardian and your guide."

ODBOJ looked mildly confused. We already had something in common.

As the days and weeks went on, we began to realise that ODBOJ was either the perfect baby (particularly for someone as baby averse as me) or everything everyone had told us about babies was a lie. He rarely cried - and when he did it was quickly remedied by a visit to the boob lady or a brief rendition of the nipple and boob song (the lyrics are very simple). He slept remarkably well, allowing MOOB to maintain her good humour and me to throw my energies into inventing silly songs. He also shunned the concept of pooing, except when absolutely necessary, going for days at a time without creating any undue unpleasantness. It turns out this is quite normal for a breast fed baby. Either way, three of the things I'd been looking forward to the least were not even an issue thanks to ODBOJ.

Then came the smiles. The start of the end of the change (at least this particular change). A full two weeks before he deigned to smile at anyone else (and I mean proper, full on ear-to-ear smiles), he smiled at me. Mildly confused had become extremely happy and I couldn't help being dragged along for the ride. It was infectious. It still is, and he smiles a LOT every day. Fear and worry has become joy and silliness (with a particular emphasis on the silliness). Now a boring trip to a department store is actually a trip to a pram racetrack - complete with chicanes, hairpins and, to the confusion of other shoppers, the odd round-about.

And there you go, that's when things changed. What advice would I give to expectant fathers? Here's my top tips, in no particular order...

- Embrace the silliness. This is actually your chance to act like a child and do stupid stuff whilst onlookers think it's good parenting rather than self indulgent madness.

- Expecting the worst isn't actually a bad thing - you can only be pleasantly surprised.

- Traditional nursery rhymes are evil. They'll infect your brain and slowly eat away at your soul. Check out Rockabye Baby for some nursery rhyme versions of proper music.

- Sing. Sing a lot.

- You still need to do your own thing. The start of a new life isn't the end of yours and no-one's going to thank you when you end up resentful and twisted because you sacrificed all the things that you enjoy.

OK. Right. Well, nice to see you but I've got to run - the tickle monster has an urgent appointment with an ODBOJ :-D

Transition to parenthood

We are now one month in to our new lives as parents and in a nutshell, we love it! There is so much I could write in this blog post, I don't quite know where to begin. I guess a good starting point is how I feel, although anything I write simply wont do that justice. One of my fears before giving birth was how DH would cope with the inevetable 'neglect' due to the amount of time I would be giving to little bean. I suppose I'd always assumed that I have a finite amount of love to give and once little bean arrived I would have to take a chunk of love away from DH and share it. Happily, I was very much mistaken. I never thought it would be possible to love my husband any more, but somehow our little bean has acted like an amplifier of love. The strength of my feelings for my husband and son (and even the dog, when he's not trying to steal food) is so intense, my heart could burst.

The bond that develops between mother and baby is so powerful, I have never known or felt anything like it. It is something that you can only comprehend and understand when you become a parent yourself. I find myself 'wasting' a lot of time staring at my baby in my arms, simply feeling the pure love that envelops us. I say wasting time, but it really isn't. I want to savour and appreciate every moment with my son. If I want to spend hours every day staring and cuddling my baby, then everything else can wait, to me there is nothing more important.

Having entered this new chapter of our lives, clearly a lot has changed, but in all honesty little bean has made the transition easy. I think a combination of the unconditional love I have for him, the fact that he is a pretty chilled out little baby and that it was the Christmas holidays, all contributed to our first month being happy and relatively hassle free. I had thought that Christmas would be really bad timing for a baby, but on the contrary, it was perfect. We had an incredible first few weeks showing off little bean to all of our family and friends and the excitement of Christmas helped keep me on a high and carry me through when by all rights I should have been exhausted. So far little bean only cries when he is hungry and being as I am breastfeeding it is easy for me to just stick him on a boob and hey presto we have a quiet baby. I have been both surprised and amazed at how well my body has adapted to the demands of motherhood and how it has coped with the lack of sleep. I must be sleep deprived, as on average I am surviving off 3-5 hours broken sleep per night, yet somehow I am not really feeling the effects of that. I must be running on hormones.


Apart from the general awesomeness of our little guy, the most overwhelming thing of all has been watching DH become a daddy. He is incredible. He has taken to fatherhood in a way that I never even dared to dream. DH is smitten (it's hard not to be in my biased opinion). Both of us had fears about how DH would react to the reality of having a baby, but any concerns I had melted away the moment little bean was born and I saw DH gazing at him for the first time, He has taken to it so naturally and his confidence as a dad is astounding. He has happily taken little bean off on his own for dog walks and trips to the supermarket, to allow me a bit of respite. Without his support as a husband and father I don't think I would have coped with a newborn baby. I've not yet found motherhood a real strain, and that's down to the fact that DH has been there doing everything I need him to; he makes sure I have time for nice long hot showers, he cooks dinner and cuts it up for me when I'm nursing, he tells me what an amazing mother I am, he brings me drinks and anything else I need when I'm sat on the sofa breastfeeding, he gives me foot massages late in the evening when I'm restless and angsty because little bean has been feeding for the previous 3 hours, but most of all he makes me happy and makes me appreciate the life we are lucky to have.

Giving birth

After many years of wishing, waiting and wanting, I am now the proud mother of a beautiful little boy. I cannot begin to describe the emotions I feel. He is the most precious thing that I have ever laid my eyes on and I am in complete awe of him and the fact that I grew him.

On the lead up to his birth DH and I prepared as much as we possibly could. To compliment my pregnancy yoga I also practised hypnobirthing. At first this sounds somewhat hippyish, but it is actually all about positive thinking, relaxation exercises and developing a belief and trust in your body. One of the exercises from the book was for us to write down all of our fears about labour/birth/having a child. A few days prior to little bean's birth we individually wrote down all of these fears, then spent a few hours discussing them. We found it incredibly worthwhile as we were able to develop a better understanding of how we could best support each other. DH knew exactly how he should support me during my labour, so when my waters broke at 4.10am on December 18th we knew exactly what to do. The contractions started within 10 minutes and we realised we should phone the birthing centre. They told me to get some more sleep if I could and call back about 9am. I told DH to go back to sleep, but there was no way I could as my contractions were  already too regular and I was simply too alert. After showering I made myself comfortable in the lounge and with every contraction I leant forward over my birthing ball whilst using the breathing techniques I'd learnt. In between contractions I moved around the lounge using a variety methods I'd learnt at yoga. By 6.30am the contractions had grown in intensity and regularity (every 4-5 minutes), but I was still able breathe easily through them. I decided to get DH up and ready for action. By 10am they were now coming every 3-4 minutes and we decided it was time to make our way to the birthing unit. We arrived there at 10.30am and our midwife led us into the large private room where DH swiftly sorted out the music that I'd asked him to put together for labour. The midwife suggested that I go to the toilet and it was at this point that my contractions suddenly changed and I began making deep primal noises with every contraction that I had absolutely no control over! She asked me about pain relief, but I was quite content with my TENS machine. I told her I'd like to use the pool and she said that would be saved until last. She then asked if she could inspect me and was clearly surprised to see that I was already 8cm dilated, labour was progressing quickly. As soon as the pool was filled I stripped off and jumped in and I felt so relaxed. My contractions were incredibly intense, but I wouldn't describe them as painful. The noises I made were astounding, I had no idea that I had the lung capacity to create such sounds, but I ensured that they were the 'positive type noises' that I'd practised at yoga, that would keep my body relaxed. I was offered gas and air and finally decided to try it but didn't like it whilst in the pool (DH on the other hand took every sly opportunity he could to have a quick go). Being in the water and being able to squeeze DH's finger with every contraction was enough for me. I was feeling confident that a baby would soon be popping out into the water. After about 2 hours in the pool, the midwife told me that she was concerned that I was losing too much blood with my contractions and that she would need to call Gloucester and arrange for me to be transferred there. She was so calm about it that I just took it my stride and knew that it was out of my hands. Once out of the pool I soon realised that I needed the gas and air and TENS machine again. I felt so close to the birth that a small part of me thought I could push him out before the paramedics arrived, but they were very efficient and soon arrived with a trolley to wheel me down to the ambulance. 

I did not relish the idea of getting on the trolley and having to lie down. The only positions I was comfortable in was on all fours or squatting. The journey to Gloucester was bumpy and uncomfortable so I zoned out on the gas and air. As soon as we got to the delivery ward the staff started hooking me up to various pieces of equipment. They tried to attach an over the belly monitor for little bean, but it failed so they had to attached it to his scalp. My contractions still felt the same as they had done in Cheltenham, strong and regular. Within 10 minutes DH arrived and it was a relief having him by my side again. At some point an obstetrician came in to examine me. He started talking about all sorts of intervention and offered me an epidural. DH fulfilled his duties well and explained that I didn't want any intervention if it could be avoided. I can't now remember if it was the first or second examination that revealed I had an anterior cervical lip and I was told I was not allowed to push. This was so difficult as every fibre of my body was telling me to push, trying to resist the urge to push was both physically and mentally exhausting. I was told that I'd be examined again in an hour and I remember thinking how could I possibly keep this up for an hour. At the time I didn't fully understand why I couldn't push, but apparently I had to wait for the lip to come away on it's own as pushing was not going to help that, in fact pushing was going to make it swell up making delivery very difficult. After an hour and being inspected again I was told I could push again, so I was straight back on all fours pushing as hard as I could. However after just one contraction I was told 'sorry no pushing for another hour we'll be back to examine you then'. At this point I was starting to get upset as I felt like my labour was going backwards.The best position to control my body's urge to push was on my back, but I felt that was counter-productive to helping the labour progress and encouraging baby to make his way down the birth channel. DH and the midwife did a fantastic job at helping me remain calm and positive.  DH reassured me that every contraction was one closer to meeting our baby, so I was able to go with it. By this time my labour had been at the same point for about 6 hours, the same intensity and frequency of contractions and I was truly exhausted.

After just half an hour everything changed. The obstetrician was back, the team had been watching little bean's heart rate (they could do this without even being in the room) and were growing concerned. His heart rate was dropping too much with every contraction. I heard them talking about intervention and I looked at DH and said I was happy to go with anything now if it was for the safety of our baby. The obstetrician explained that they wanted to give me a spinal tap and deliver little bean by forceps, he said it wouldn't take long as baby was so close. Within 5 minutes DH had his scrubs on  and I was being wheeled into theatre. The spinal tap went in and as I lost all the sensation in my lower body I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I didn't have to think or concentrate any more and I knew we'd be meeting our baby within minutes. The midwife told me that I was still having contractions but I wouldn't be able to feel them. However they would tell me when a contraction was coming and I had to push just like I had been. This was surreal. I had no idea whether I was actually pushing as I could feel nothing, but after the first contraction his head was out. The cord was wrapped twice around his neck so they had to untangle him. After the next contraction our little bean had become a fully fledged human and had entered the world. He was put on my chest and I cried, laughed and beamed with delight and joy. He was fairly rapidly whisked across to a little table where the paediatrician checked him over, DH went with him and all I could see was him staring at our little baby. We heard a short healthy cry, then he settled straight away. I remained where I was as they had had to give me an episiotomy so I was being stitched up. After a short time DH brought little bean across to me wrapped up in a blanked. We were wheeled into the recovery room where we spent the next few hours just staring at our perfect little baby and enjoying these first special moments as a new family. DH reminded me that we should be skin to skin and I should try him on a breast. I stripped off and he latched on straight away, he did it so naturally and he fed for over an hour. I was so impressed that we managed this without even being shown how to do it. Blissful.

To many people, the labour I went through may have felt like a traumatic ordeal. I've had a few comments of 'you poor thing' 'that must have been so scary' 'oh, how traumatic', but in all honesty it wasn't. I view my labour and birth as a completely positive experience. I really enjoyed my labouring experience in Cheltenham and I am proud of how well I did there, especially how I coped with no pain relief. I had already prepared myself for coping mentally with being transferred to Gloucester, so when it happened it wasn't an issue. There is a lot to be said for the power of positive thought. My natural tendency to put a positive slant on everything and the preparation I did with my yoga and hypnobirthing consolidated the positive mindset that I remained in throughout my whole labouring experience. I need to thank my husband for his wonderful support throughout and of course all of the NHS staff that have helped us to create and deliver this beautiful baby into the world.

Growing a baby: 35 weeks

It is hard to believe that after waiting for this for such a long time, we only have a month to go until little bean is due. I have chosen not to fixate on the date he is due as he could quite easily arrive a few weeks before or after. However, when I said to DH a few days ago that I would technically be full term in 2 weeks, and he could quite easily be born then, we just looked at each other and said 'no, he can't come that early, we're not ready yet!'

Although I have been preparing in so many different ways, somehow I still don't feel ready. Perhaps you never do. As with many things, I have been looking at a lot of elements of pregnancy, labour, childbirth and raising a child as a sequence of processes and almost forgetting how emotionally connected I am/will be to all of these things. Over the past month we have started investing a lot of time into the preparation for birth. We do at least now know how to change a nappy and how to dress a baby, courtesy of our NCT course. 

Until a few months ago I was completely unaware of the options for birthing. When I was asked by friends if I was intending to have a consultant led or midwifery led birth, I had no idea what they were talking about. So I began to research. I had always assumed that I would just go along with whatever the professionals told me, but having looked into my options I soon realised that I had developed a clear idea of the birth I wanted. We have the option of going to Cheltenham or Gloucester. Cheltenham is smaller and is a birthing unit only (the only pain relief they can offer is a birthing pool and gas and air), whereas Gloucester is much bigger with a birthing unit as well as a delivery ward. A few days ago we visited the Cheltenham birthing unit and loved it, I know that is where I want to have my baby. I now have this slightly romanticised image of what giving birth will be like. I want to have a water birth with as little intervention as possible, my heart is already set on the idea. I am trying really hard not to get too fixated on this though. I have to keep telling myself that anything could happen and I may have no say it what happens if medical intervention is necessary. I need to know that I can accept any outcome and if that means being transferred in an ambulance to Gloucester, then so be it. 

I went through that short negative thought process of feeling like my body was failing me when I got the rib pain (which by the way is far better than it was due to weekly chiropractic treatment and my positive mindset). I have to be very mindful that I don't do that if I don't have the birth I am hoping for. Knowing how pragmatic I am though, I believe I will be fine. Sometimes I am reminded that the conception of my baby was in no way natural, so why should I assume that the delivery of this baby will be any different? At the end of the day they essential thing is that little bean is delivered safely by whatever means necessary.

Even so, I am doing everything in my power to try and ensure I have the labour and birth I am hoping for. The best thing I have chosen to do antenatally is pregnancy yoga. I began this at 27 weeks and it is wonderful. I had never been to yoga before and didn't really know what to expect from it, but a few friends recommended I try it. I found a class only a mile from where I live (mini moments) but was more attracted to this class because the teacher is not a 'yogi', but is a doula and clearly has a wealth of knowledge about labour and birthing. The teacher somehow manages to teach the class with a perfect balance of humour, emotion, bonding, intimacy, physicality, knowledge and relaxation. She does it in such a way that the group feels surprisingly comfortable and at ease with, not only each other but also ourselves, our own bodies and the amazing process that is happening inside all of us. If I had been told prior to my first session that I would be holding hands with with people I'd never met, repeating mantras aloud and making deep groaning primeval noises, I may have run a mile. But I have never felt more relaxed with people I have only just met. Every session I am learning more and more about how to prepare my body for labour and how to help my labour progress easily. The classes have given me the confidence to believe in my body and my baby. I genuinely have no fear about giving birth and I am actually looking forward to it. As I have mentioned in previous posts I am a strong believer in positive thinking, my pregnancy yoga reaffirms this view and has made feel  empowered as I embark on the final stages of pregnancy. 

Growing a baby: 30 weeks

I have dreamt of being pregnant for such a long time and have relished the thought of a baby growing inside me for years. I have always assumed that I would find pregnancy easy and I have often wondered why so many people seem to find it hard. Over the past five or six weeks however I have realised and begun to accept that growing a human is no mean feat. It is clear that what you experience during pregnancy, both physically and mentally, varies hugely from one person to another. My dream of a pain free and easy pregnancy has been somewhat shattered over the past month.

Upon returning to work after the six week summer holidays I was feeling amazing. I loved answering everyone's questions of how was I doing with a 'Yeah, I feel great, I love being pregnant!' Within a week of the term starting I began experiencing an uncomfortable rib pain. Initially I only felt the pain whilst I was in a normal sitting position, which was usually at my desk or driving. Thankfully as a PE teacher being on my feet and moving around seemed to prevent the pain. When I mentioned this to my midwife at my 28 week appointment she was not concerned. It's nothing to worry about she told me, just your uterus expanding and causing tenderness to your ribs. I wasn't worried though, I was in pain, but at that point only around 2-4 hours per day. A few days later as I was reaching for a drink, I felt a twang and it was like I was being stabbed in the chest. I froze for about 10 seconds and the pain eased off. Since then the pain I've been experiencing is almost unbearable. Every day I can feel a definite movement in my ribs, which causes a sharp shooting pain to radiate along the line of the rib around to my back. I would describe it as a white hot pain. Most days I am in pain for about 8-10 hours and it is quite simply horrible. Thankfully at weekends when I can avoid sitting (I lie or sit very reclined on the sofa instead) and driving I don't get much pain at all. I was convinced that this was no longer just a typical pregnancy symptom and must be an injury, I actually thought that I had dislocated a rib.

As a result of all this, last week I had my first wobble of pregnancy. Everyone I mentioned the rib pain to just dismissed it, so I tried to do the same. But I came to a point last week where it just got too much for me. The thoughts and feelings I had been trying to dismiss and ignore came gushing out to DH with a flood of tears too. I have desperately wanted to enjoy every stage of my pregnancy and I realised that I wasn't. I felt like my body was letting me down. I felt like I was failing. I'm not one to moan, in fact I fundamentally disagree with moaning, it achieves nothing. I didn't and don't want sympathy from anyone (I'm the worst person at giving sympathy so I shouldn't expect it from others!), I just want someone to tell me how to fix this problem. Realising that I was not happily enjoying my pregnancy, I became upset with myself. The pain was beginning to affect me mentally now, something which I am not used to. As I've mentioned before I don't tend to get stressed and usually just take things in my stride. I didn't want to have any negative feelings towards my pregnancy, something needed to change. I guess I'm also worried that if I'm finding this stage hard I'm going to find everything hard, I'm not going to breeze through motherhood like I naively expected. The little bubble that I've been floating along in is slowly beginning to deflate.

My midwife told me to complete a referral for physiotherapy, I was impressed with how quickly I received an appointment. So earlier this week I went along for my session, but was slightly disappointed to find it was a group session with other pregnant women who were experiencing a range of ailments. We were shown a variety of sitting and lying positions and exercises that might help us. I wasn't told anything new though, everything we went through I had already learnt at pregnancy yoga. The principle of the group session was good though; they try to get everyone seen early, then if the advice doesn't work you book in for a 1-1 appointment. The pain has been getting worse every day, so yesterday I decided to book in to see my regular chiropractor (rather than wait for a physio appointment), who is fantastic. She has been treating me for  a few years for a variety of sports related injuries. After feeling my ribs she confirmed my suspicions that I have an injury. I am suffering from costochondritis, which is essentially inflammation of the joint and cartilage where the ribs attach to the sternum, potentially torn cartilage too which is the movement I can feel. This is not a pregnancy condition, anyone can get it, although for me it has clearly been caused by pregnancy.

Confirmation that I have an injury as opposed to just another pregnancy symptom is making it easier for me to deal with. I can now see the pain as being separate to the pregnancy, which has alleviated the negative feelings I've been having. I'm still in just as much pain and I may just have to put up with that until little bean is born, but I now feel that I can do that without beating myself up. I love my bump and I love the way I look. Little bean is getting more and more active and I cherish that connection I feel when he moves. Despite my wobble, my mindset has not changed, I know I will remain positive throughout the rest of my pregnancy.

Naivety of an expectant mother

At 27 weeks the prospect of becoming a mother is getting closer to a reality. I have realised that I really know nothing about being a parent to a newborn. I don't even know how to change a nappy! At our re-scan at 21 weeks we asked the sonographer if she could write down the gender, for us to then look at later if we wished. She told us she wasn't allowed, although wasn't sure of the reason. Little bean was still being awkward, but she managed to get all the readings she needed. At the end of the scan, DH finally decided that we couldn't not know.The sonographer focused in on the little bean's nether regions and clear as anything we could see a little willy there. Although I genuinely did not have a preference, I was so relieved for DH's sake. A boy. We're going to have a son!

                                                  21 weeks and 2 days - a slightly freaky skeletal picture!

Over the past month I have begun wondering what our little boy will be like and what kind of parents we will be. DH and I both have a fairly clear idea about the behaviour we expect in a child and the morals and values we want to bring him up with. It's easy for us at the moment, we're not yet parents. We have this image of a well behaved little boy who is polite, well mannered and a pleasure to be with. Surely that's not so hard to achieve. I'm not going to lie, I know I look at friends, family and strangers with children and I make snap judgements about their parenting methods. I'm sure we all do, but most would never admit to it. DH and I have had lengthy discussions about what we will and won't do, even though so many say how much harder that is to do once you actually are a parent.

I think once our child as it a stage where he understands language and the environment around him, we can start to in-still the discipline and behaviour we expect. I know what I expect a toddler to be like. I imagine the principles of raising children are very similar to those of teaching and training a dog. When I started my career in teaching, I experienced first-hand where taking the easy option, being too soft and failing to follow through with threats leads you, and it's not pretty. It is a mammoth struggle to crawl back to where you need and want to be, I do not want to be in that position with my own child. We have learnt a lot from the mistakes we made with our dog. The poor behaviour he exhibits is down to us. He is a product of us, and although it's taken a while, he has become the most wonderful dog because of us (not perfect, but almost there). At the moment we have it all sussed out, we are the perfect parents. It will be interesting to read this in a year's time and see what I think then.

But before I can apply any of this thinking I will have a newborn baby. Is there really any way of preparing for this? From what I've seen everyone has different experiences and all babies are different. Some find the transition from the womb to the outside world easy, whereas others seem to really struggle with it. Is this down to how the mother is during pregnancy, is it the simple nature and character of that baby, is it the experiences it starts having as soon as it enters the world? How much is nature and how much is nurture? I don't think anyone knows for sure. I for one am happy to look at it all through my rose-tinted glasses. I'm choosing to believe that being relaxed and stress free will help with the birth of my child and the subsequent months, I'm planning to start pregnancy yoga, which I hope will also help. Without meaning to sound arrogant, I find life easy. Some people seem to make an ordeal out of everything and get enveloped in the stress and difficulty of living. I don't. That's not to say I have had an easy life, without stress or trauma, far from it, but I seem to have developed a way of dealing with it where I can remain calm and balanced. I've mentioned before how I live by the slightly clichéd motto of 'everything happens for a reason'. This truly does help me. When my mum died suddenly from a severe brain haemorrhage at the age of 49 (I was 16) I searched for a reason. She had been undergoing treatment for breast cancer at the time, so I found solace in the fact that she died without pain and did not have to suffer a long illness.

I am positive in everything that I do, I seldom feel the signs of mental stress, and I hope this mindset remains once we have our baby. I have been told, many times, how hard being a parent is, how difficult and exhausting those first few months are. But what good is telling me that going to do? Just because you know it will be hard and you will be sleep deprived can't actually make it any easier. I cannot prepare for that, so I am quite content to bimble along in my naive little bubble of what I think motherhood will be, it's a happy place to be.

Growing a baby - 21weeks

Since my 12 week scan the time his simply flown by. I am now 21 weeks and finally have a proper bump, which is recognisable as a baby bump as opposed to the slightly tubby look I had earlier. Over the past week I have begun to feel little bean's movements. I wasn't sure at first if that's what it definitely was, but how else can you explain a strange pulsing within your belly? I regularly stare at my belly and find myself absent mindedly stroking it. People laugh at me when I say I can't wait for it to be a big beach ball, but truly I can't. Despite my 'little' ordeal at 8 weeks I am now having a wonderful pregnancy. The surgery and all the pain it caused seems so long ago now that I almost feel like it happened to someone else. I am perfectly healthy, and it seems that little bean is too. I have not experienced a single pregnancy symptom (aside from constantly needing to pee) and now that I have begun exercising again I feel fantastic. The site of the scar still feels numb and occasionally painful to touch, but it doesn't bother me any longer.

At the 12 week scan the sonographer was unable to complete the nuchal fold test (for Downs' Syndrome) due to little bean being awkward and refusing to get in the right position. Before going in for the scan I explained the purpose of the test to DH and then started wondering if I really wanted to know the results of such a test. To be faced with having to make a decision about your unborn baby's future must be horrendous. The sheer thought of it made me cry. I was given an additional scan at 16 weeks, just for reassurance because of what I had been through. At this appointment I was also given a blood test to test for Down's. The result would be posted within 10 days. When the letter arrived I was scared of opening it, but knew I had to do it. The result of the test showed a 1 in 1775 chance of Down's, so no further investigations. Another relief. DH was unable to make this appointment, so when the sonographer asked if I wanted to know what I was having I was caught off guard. I was surprised that she could tell the gender this early on, but she said it was clear as day. Obviously there was no way I could find out without DH there, but just the fact that it was clear brought a tear my eye. I want to give DH some control over what is happening, so he is going to decide whether we find out or not. I've always thought that I'd want a surprise, but I now seem to be leaning towards finding out. I know DH is more scared of having a baby girl, so part of me thinks that he would benefit from finding out so that he can better prepare himself mentally, if that is even possible! Perhaps he can also start connecting with the baby if he knows whether he is having a son or daughter.

                                                                                  21 weeks

Finally at 18 weeks, 8 weeks after my surgery I was allowed to start exercising again. I'm not stupid enough to try anything that I was doing before, but light CV and weights will be fine. I joined DH for our regular PT session, which was basically a light weights session for me and a heavy weights session for him. It felt so good to feel my muscles working properly again. At 19 weeks we spent 10 days touring in our camper around Scotland and the Lakes, the sort of holiday that will be quite difficult with a baby, so possibly our last chance to do it for a while. I was pleased that I managed the hike to the top of Ben Lomond (974m!), I needed more rests than I usually would, but I still felt fairly fit. 

We had our '20 week' scan this morning, although I am actually 21 weeks. After much consideration, DH decided that we would ask the sonographer to write the gender down on a piece of paper and seal it in an envelope, that we way we can decide at a later date if we wish. However, little bean was choosing to be very awkward again. With it's head tucked down and lying face down the sonogrpaher found it difficult to get all the readings she needed. It was impossible to tell the gender. Lots of prodding and tilting the bed up did not succeed in getting the stubborn bean to move. Everything the sonographer did see was fine and she has no concerns about anything, but we will need another scan in the next 2 weeks to complete all the readings and measurements. We didn't get any scan pictures as you couldn't really see all that much. Although I feel slightly disappointed not to see more or get the choice about finding out the gender, I am so grateful that little bean appears to be growing well and looking healthy. What more could I want at this stage.

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