At Monday's weekly obstetric appointment I watched the doctor cross out "waterbirth" on my medical record and replace it with "high risk". I knew it was coming, but it was still a shattering disappointment.
This pregnancy has been cruel to me. Let me not mince words about it. I changed hospitals and obstetricians, travelling at least twice the distance, just so I had access to a waterbirth. I have taken bucketloads of supplements every day trying to ward off pre-eclampsia and other ailments. I've managed myself in every conceivable way. I lay on the floor for 2 weeks straight with my bum in the air to ensure Lilac turned from Breech position.
After everything, I thought I was on the home stretch. I thought I had made it. My baby turned, my blood pressure was great, my doctor said "see you again in 3 weeks". I went and bought a waterbirth DVD and I sat and wept with nervous happiness as I watched 5 couples experience their dream births.
Then all of a sudden I found myself "high risk" and the option of a waterbirth was snatched away. Not to mention that I am now sitting here, a bundle of anxiety, desperately waiting for each time Lilac moves to make sure she's still alive.
HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN?
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Obstetric Cholestasis
Well I've really outdone myself this time.
A couple of weeks back I remember remarking to my husband that he was going to have to shave my legs for me (I stopped being able to reach them a few months ago) because they were getting a bit itchy. I thought nothing of it, in fact I did somehow manage to shave them myself.
A few nights later I found myself awake half the night scratching madly at various parts of my body, particularly my wrists and ankles. I was certain I'd been attacked by insects. In fact earlier that day I had declared war on a spider nest and I wondered if I just felt itchy in my head. The next day I woke up and washed the sheets, just to make sure.
However, the itch didn't go away. It hovered incessantly for the rest of the weekend, and I was driven to comment about it on a pregnancy forum where one of the other women remarked that I should talk to my obstetrician. She mentioned something about OC. A quick preliminary search on the internet suggested it was a rare, bothersome condition of the liver in pregnancy but was nothing to worry about.
We were about to head away for a few days, and I was tempted to deal with it when I got back, but something got the better of me and I called my obstetrician first thing Monday morning. He said I needed to come in and I saw him that afternoon. He told me I needed blood tests, which I agreed to go first thing Tuesday morning, just before we left for our holiday. 2 tests were needed, a more immediate liver enzyme test and a bile acid test that takes a week because there are only a few pathology labs in Australia that can process the test.
During the holiday I called for the results of the liver test. He told me my liver enzymes were abnormal. I didn't have proper web access, but I'd been itching and scratching like a crazy person this entire time. The itching had taken over my entire body, particularly at night, attacking the soles of my feet and palms of my hands, causing me agony between my toes, in my ears, nostrils and even my private parts. I was going out of my mind, so at the first available opportunity I decided to do a bit more research into the condition of obstetric cholestasis.
I soon learned that it's not just a bit of an itchy bother, but a dangerous condition of pregnancy leading to a 15% increase chance of stillbirth (increasing steadily after week 37). The normal course of action, therefore, being to induce labour at 37 or 38 weeks, depending on the severity of the condition. Reading this I broke down. I have never cried like that before. It was truly as if the weight of the entire universe crashed down on me. I buried my head on my husband's shoulder and wailed.
As I waited out the rest of the holiday and for the bile acid test results to return, I went through every stage of grief. Grieving for the loss of control over the pregnancy, grieving for the risk to my unborn child, grieving for my inability to provide a safe place for my baby to grow. Denial, anger, depression, bargaining (or fighting in my case), and finally acceptance. Acceptance that I needed to make sure Lilac enters the world safely and nothing else matters.
Finally the next Monday rolled around. I called the obstetrician and he confirmed the bile acids test showed what I already knew, that I had obstetric cholestasis. I went in to see him immediately and I am now under weekly surveillance with more ultrasounds, blood tests and CTG monitoring ahead of me. He said we would induce at 38 weeks unless the condition deteriorates and gave me a prescription for UDCA (ursodeoxycholic acid) the only possible treatment (not cure) for this condition which resolves itself only upon the birth (or death) of the baby.
Having developed pre-eclampsia late in my first pregnancy with Jude, I am a little overwhelmed and even shocked to learn I have this condition. I can not believe it is happening, but it is and I have to deal with it to the best of my ability. Every time Lilac sleeps I sit anxiously waiting for her to wake up and give me a good, reassuring kick. The doctor said 38 weeks, but I am so anxious for her safety it may end up being me who asks for an induction at 37 weeks. This is a big leap from me wanting a natural water birth and having decided early that I would never try to bring on labour, I'd let her sit in there as long as she liked. But with her life on the line, I'm not willing to take a single chance.
A couple of weeks back I remember remarking to my husband that he was going to have to shave my legs for me (I stopped being able to reach them a few months ago) because they were getting a bit itchy. I thought nothing of it, in fact I did somehow manage to shave them myself.
A few nights later I found myself awake half the night scratching madly at various parts of my body, particularly my wrists and ankles. I was certain I'd been attacked by insects. In fact earlier that day I had declared war on a spider nest and I wondered if I just felt itchy in my head. The next day I woke up and washed the sheets, just to make sure.
However, the itch didn't go away. It hovered incessantly for the rest of the weekend, and I was driven to comment about it on a pregnancy forum where one of the other women remarked that I should talk to my obstetrician. She mentioned something about OC. A quick preliminary search on the internet suggested it was a rare, bothersome condition of the liver in pregnancy but was nothing to worry about.
We were about to head away for a few days, and I was tempted to deal with it when I got back, but something got the better of me and I called my obstetrician first thing Monday morning. He said I needed to come in and I saw him that afternoon. He told me I needed blood tests, which I agreed to go first thing Tuesday morning, just before we left for our holiday. 2 tests were needed, a more immediate liver enzyme test and a bile acid test that takes a week because there are only a few pathology labs in Australia that can process the test.
During the holiday I called for the results of the liver test. He told me my liver enzymes were abnormal. I didn't have proper web access, but I'd been itching and scratching like a crazy person this entire time. The itching had taken over my entire body, particularly at night, attacking the soles of my feet and palms of my hands, causing me agony between my toes, in my ears, nostrils and even my private parts. I was going out of my mind, so at the first available opportunity I decided to do a bit more research into the condition of obstetric cholestasis.
I soon learned that it's not just a bit of an itchy bother, but a dangerous condition of pregnancy leading to a 15% increase chance of stillbirth (increasing steadily after week 37). The normal course of action, therefore, being to induce labour at 37 or 38 weeks, depending on the severity of the condition. Reading this I broke down. I have never cried like that before. It was truly as if the weight of the entire universe crashed down on me. I buried my head on my husband's shoulder and wailed.
As I waited out the rest of the holiday and for the bile acid test results to return, I went through every stage of grief. Grieving for the loss of control over the pregnancy, grieving for the risk to my unborn child, grieving for my inability to provide a safe place for my baby to grow. Denial, anger, depression, bargaining (or fighting in my case), and finally acceptance. Acceptance that I needed to make sure Lilac enters the world safely and nothing else matters.
Finally the next Monday rolled around. I called the obstetrician and he confirmed the bile acids test showed what I already knew, that I had obstetric cholestasis. I went in to see him immediately and I am now under weekly surveillance with more ultrasounds, blood tests and CTG monitoring ahead of me. He said we would induce at 38 weeks unless the condition deteriorates and gave me a prescription for UDCA (ursodeoxycholic acid) the only possible treatment (not cure) for this condition which resolves itself only upon the birth (or death) of the baby.
Having developed pre-eclampsia late in my first pregnancy with Jude, I am a little overwhelmed and even shocked to learn I have this condition. I can not believe it is happening, but it is and I have to deal with it to the best of my ability. Every time Lilac sleeps I sit anxiously waiting for her to wake up and give me a good, reassuring kick. The doctor said 38 weeks, but I am so anxious for her safety it may end up being me who asks for an induction at 37 weeks. This is a big leap from me wanting a natural water birth and having decided early that I would never try to bring on labour, I'd let her sit in there as long as she liked. But with her life on the line, I'm not willing to take a single chance.
Friday, 20 May 2011
Renovation Madness
I would strongly recommend against renovating your bathrooms in the last trimester of pregnancy.
I have spent every day for the last month or more (god how long has it been?) crawling around on my hands and knees cleaning up cement dust, tile bits, discarded nails, chunks of wood, particle board sawdust... You name it, I've spent time with it recently.
On top of the cleaning I've had my hands full with tradesmen of varying descriptions and levels of competence, some who understood what I was asking and others who either misunderstood or ignored me.
I've had to trawl bathroom supply shops looking for fixtures, making endless phone calls following up on items ordered weeks earlier that I still haven't heard anything about, and had to rush out last minute to buy things the builder suddenly deems vital without warning.
Third trimester fatigue and insomnia has had me in its filthy clutches this entire time and my brain has officially turned to mush. There are just a couple of days left before the renovations are complete, and I'm fighting every cell in my body to stay functioning until it's over, and then some extra energy must be found because the real cleanup begins the day I see the back of the builders, and what a cleanup it will be. There is a thin layer of filmy dust covering every surface and hidden in every nook and cranny throughout the entire house.
Today the builder started presenting me with invoices and final costs while my poor head is screaming for peace. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to deal with figuring out final payments, I'm quite simply not capable of such complex thought.
Monday, 16 May 2011
Back on track
Every spare moment I could find (which were few and far between) I tried every position I could read about to try to get Lilac to turn head down. Who knows how many hours I actually spent with my backside elevated and my head down, but it was worth it.
After a night of nearly no sleep I drove the death-trap motorway with my eyes half closed down to the hospital on the other side of the city, my hopes pinned on the suspicion I had that one very painful night's sleep was actually caused by a rotating baby.
Amazingly I was right. Lilac has turned around. A quick ultrasound confirmed that her head is in my crotch. The relief I feel is beyond words.
We are back on track for the waterbirth, which is getting increasingly closer. Yesterday marked week 33 of my pregnancy, indicating just 7 weeks to go.
Sunday, 8 May 2011
Waterbirth dreaming
We have been buried in renovations for the last month and I've been head down, bum up cleaning up after builders and, of course, Jude.
That position, the traditional hardworking housewife perpetually cleaning her mud floors and whatever else they did back in the dark ages, is supposed to be ideal for getting a baby into optimal birthing position.
Yet despite everything, Lilac is seemingly stuck in breech position. After worrying about pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, this and that, and getting through each month marking checks against each hurdle jumped, I find myself in the last 8 weeks of pregnancy facing the worst of all obstacles and my hopes and dreams of having a waterbirth are fading.
I even chose to attend a different hospital that is twice the distance from our house, and give up an obstetrician I really liked, all in the hope of having a waterbirth, so I'm filled with disappointment that this is happening.
All I want is the chance to feel a real contraction and NOT have a needle shoved in my spinal cord. Is that really too much to ask?
I'm clinging to the hope that, from what I've researched, 25% of babies are breech at 32 weeks and it drops to 4% at term, but Lilac hasn't changed position in weeks so my hope is slipping away.
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Hilarious Jude
My 2 1/2 year son is telling hilarious knock knock jokes over breakfast. He has come up with a sequence, a theme and even a call back to a previous joke. We're impressed with his style (although the substance may need tweaking, but he is only 2 and I've heard 5 year olds tell worse jokes).
Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy (baby sissy who?)
Baby sissy, Lilac.
Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy Lilac (Baby sissy Lilac who?)
Baby sissy Lilac "ROOOAR". Baby sissy sees dinosaur.
Following this sequence, daddy took the knock knock reigns to teach Jude:
Knock knock (who's there?)
Cows (cows who?)
Cows don't who. Cows Moo. Owls whoooo!
Jude came back with:
Knock knock (who's there?)
Moo cow (moo cow who?)
Moo cow "ROOOAR". Moo cow sees dinosaur.
Well, we found it all very amusing!
Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy (baby sissy who?)
Baby sissy, Lilac.
Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy Lilac (Baby sissy Lilac who?)
Baby sissy Lilac "ROOOAR". Baby sissy sees dinosaur.
Following this sequence, daddy took the knock knock reigns to teach Jude:
Knock knock (who's there?)
Cows (cows who?)
Cows don't who. Cows Moo. Owls whoooo!
Jude came back with:
Knock knock (who's there?)
Moo cow (moo cow who?)
Moo cow "ROOOAR". Moo cow sees dinosaur.
Well, we found it all very amusing!
Saturday, 2 April 2011
The Great Pinking
When we moved to QLD 5 or 6 years ago (I've lost count), we knew no one here and we certainly had no friends with children. Then we set forth and started multiplying and found ourselves surrounded by people with kids, but that didn't happen until after Jude was born.Jude managed to escape wearing any hand-me-downs. What might seem like a small blessing for a child who only wore new clothes may not be what it seemed. Since announcing our girl bun in the oven, we have inherited bundles of pink from friends. I have now realised how great this is.
While Jude had entirely new clothes, they were all cheap and nothing special. After spending hundreds of dollars simply buying the basics for him, we had nothing left to splurge on anything fancy. Now we have an entire wardrobe of good-quality seconds, and I am free to start picking up special pieces as I go without worrying about blowing the budget.
This would, of course, rely on me ever having the time or inclination to go shopping. Chances are Lilac will wear only hand-me-downs because the reality is I never go shopping and I never get a chance to meander slowly through gorgeous kid's things, taking my time to ooh and aah at anything special.
But my parents are retiring soon so hopefully they'll visit more often and I'll have more time to potter around.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Going it alone
Some days, like this one, I need someone to call on. Someone to take Jude away from me, if just for a few hours. Many people (increasingly fewer) have family close enough to be able to help out on those days when everything is too much. Our closest family live about 900km away. Not exactly close enough to come to the rescue.
I got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Between pregnancy symptoms and Jude's recent spate of very bad sleep patterns, I am really feeling the impact of sleep deprivation. So when I gave Jude a cup of milk and he knocked it over on to the floor, and then threw the 2nd cup of milk I gave him on the floor, I really couldn't stop myself from shouting at him and wishing he'd vanish and leave me the hell alone.
It's not a great feeling, as a mum, to wish your child was anywhere but home. I'm sure I'm not the first to feel this way and I won't be the last, but where is help when I need it?
I got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Between pregnancy symptoms and Jude's recent spate of very bad sleep patterns, I am really feeling the impact of sleep deprivation. So when I gave Jude a cup of milk and he knocked it over on to the floor, and then threw the 2nd cup of milk I gave him on the floor, I really couldn't stop myself from shouting at him and wishing he'd vanish and leave me the hell alone.
It's not a great feeling, as a mum, to wish your child was anywhere but home. I'm sure I'm not the first to feel this way and I won't be the last, but where is help when I need it?
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Jude the changeling
My mind is reeling. What has happened to my perfect son? In the last 3 days he has become unsettled, grumpy and mean. I have a great popup book about faeries that mentions something about changelings. Maybe I should look into that.
Actually as I sit here typing on my PC, I can hear Jude playing happily by himself in the next room and I am starting to think he is going through a fierce streak of independence. If I went in and tried to play with him, he'd run to the lounge and demand to watch TV and then break down in tears when I said "no". I'm sure that would happen, so I'm going to leave him playing happily with his felt rock band, singing a medley of songs that work to the tune of ABC and playing his piano (my old Casio keyboard from the early 1980s that still works perfectly).
When I don't give him what he wants he says "I don't like mummy." This is quite the dramatic change from 4 days ago when he was constantly saying "Jude is happy. Jude loves mummy." Hence my reeling mind. What happened to cause this dramatic overnight change?
Speaking of overnight... yesterday he refused to take a nap during the day. 4 days ago he was telling me he was tired and wanted to sleep around 12.30pm and would crash happily in bed. Now he keeps insisting on no sleep. So yesterday Jeremy took him out and they had a really fun, exciting day together. Breakfast down by the water, run around a book store, a swim in the pool... it should have wiped him out but then Jude refused to sleep at night as well.
I suspect he was overtired, but I don't know why he is refusing to sleep. A few days ago he told us when he was tired and crawled happily into bed and fell promptly asleep, all of a sudden that's all gone out the window.
I just hope this is a very temporary change. I think my best course of action right now is to give him his space if that's what he wants.
On a possibly related note, he has finally stopped waiting until bed time to poo in his nappy, but so far only 1 poo has made it in the potty. There have been several land squarely on the carpet. At least he's doing well-formed poos since we changed his milk to a new gluten and lactose free brand. Maybe it's all part of something. Who knows?
Actually as I sit here typing on my PC, I can hear Jude playing happily by himself in the next room and I am starting to think he is going through a fierce streak of independence. If I went in and tried to play with him, he'd run to the lounge and demand to watch TV and then break down in tears when I said "no". I'm sure that would happen, so I'm going to leave him playing happily with his felt rock band, singing a medley of songs that work to the tune of ABC and playing his piano (my old Casio keyboard from the early 1980s that still works perfectly).
When I don't give him what he wants he says "I don't like mummy." This is quite the dramatic change from 4 days ago when he was constantly saying "Jude is happy. Jude loves mummy." Hence my reeling mind. What happened to cause this dramatic overnight change?
Speaking of overnight... yesterday he refused to take a nap during the day. 4 days ago he was telling me he was tired and wanted to sleep around 12.30pm and would crash happily in bed. Now he keeps insisting on no sleep. So yesterday Jeremy took him out and they had a really fun, exciting day together. Breakfast down by the water, run around a book store, a swim in the pool... it should have wiped him out but then Jude refused to sleep at night as well.
I suspect he was overtired, but I don't know why he is refusing to sleep. A few days ago he told us when he was tired and crawled happily into bed and fell promptly asleep, all of a sudden that's all gone out the window.
I just hope this is a very temporary change. I think my best course of action right now is to give him his space if that's what he wants.
On a possibly related note, he has finally stopped waiting until bed time to poo in his nappy, but so far only 1 poo has made it in the potty. There have been several land squarely on the carpet. At least he's doing well-formed poos since we changed his milk to a new gluten and lactose free brand. Maybe it's all part of something. Who knows?
Thursday, 24 March 2011
Accidents happen (bad ones)
I just read this article in the Sydney Morning Herald about a toddler nearly drowning in a rip on a normal day at the beach with mum and dad.
About a month ago we went to the beach. Swimming between the flags as we always do, I waded thigh-deep into the water carrying Jude and steadied myself against an oncoming wave, turning Jude away to protect him with my body.
The wave hit with such brute force it sent a shock of pain through my aching pregnant hips and I had to struggle to stay standing. I immediately headed back to the beach, realising that I was powerless against the forces of nature that day. I could barely walk afterwards from the pain.
Had I been any deeper before the wave hit, I would have gone down dragging Jude with me, and I can see how easy it would be to get into trouble in a rip with your toddler. It just goes to show you can be careful, you can do everything "right", but you can not plan for all possible accidents.
About a month ago we went to the beach. Swimming between the flags as we always do, I waded thigh-deep into the water carrying Jude and steadied myself against an oncoming wave, turning Jude away to protect him with my body.
The wave hit with such brute force it sent a shock of pain through my aching pregnant hips and I had to struggle to stay standing. I immediately headed back to the beach, realising that I was powerless against the forces of nature that day. I could barely walk afterwards from the pain.
Had I been any deeper before the wave hit, I would have gone down dragging Jude with me, and I can see how easy it would be to get into trouble in a rip with your toddler. It just goes to show you can be careful, you can do everything "right", but you can not plan for all possible accidents.
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