Traumatic Experiences, Braxton Hicks Contractions and counting down...

The weather has cooled down and while I'm gleefully cheerful about everyone around me is ruing a summer break with out sunshine and high temperatures. Probably only the fire-fighters and pregnant women enjoy it as much as I have been.

Yesterday it was raining for most of the day and I took my son out to the shops to meet up with a friend who's been out of town for a week. It got us out of the house, and both of us the opportunity to get some exercise, though I was significantly slower than he was... But unfortunately even the walking wasn't enough to keep my blood sugar at the levels it's expected to be - up until this point I've been doing really well controlling the gestational diabetes with diet and exercise but the closer it gets to the end the harder it's getting. And it's not 'cause I'm eating any differently.

Anyway, we came home and the rain had slowed somewhat but the roads and my steep driveway were still slippery. I started driving up the driveway and my car started sliding to the side of the driveway... I was petrified - 9 months pregnant the last thing I needed was to be stuck in a car that fell off the edge of my driveway. I put my foot on the brakes, into gear and to my great relief the car felt like it was steady and wasn't going anywhere. I opened the drivers door and realised that there was no way in the world I was going to be able to get out the drivers door. I, with my 9 months pregnant belly clambered over the shopping in the passenger seat and got out of the car. I was shaking and scared and needed to get Master 2 out of the car as well. He had almost been asleep when we got home - not any more. Though he did try and tell me he wanted "Daddy get me out" of the car. I had images of the car falling off the side of the driveway with him sitting in it and was quite cranky with him as I ordered him to just get out of the car. Finally we were safely out and we clambered up the wet slippery driveway to wake up hubby and see if he could get the car back down the driveway safely. At this point our neighbours arrived home (we share this part of the slippery driveway) and were kind enough to give hubby a hand to get the car down safely.

Adrenaline rushing all I wanted was something strong and alcoholic.

Which wasn't the best idea so I settled for thinking about it.

Braxton Hicks Contractions


I can't remember when the Braxton Hicks Contractions started with my first pregnancy but I'm getting them everyday this time. They are incredibly uncomfortable and are starting to make the people who are around me nervous. Hubby keeps asking me if I'm in labour. Moving around and changing my position seems to help. Sitting up and leaning over are the worst positions and lying down on my side seems to be the best. I'm well and truly ready now - though Master 2 isn't quite so sure about it all. Not much longer now though. I'm scheduled for a c-section on Monday which is only 6 days from now. I'm a civil marriage celebrant and have a wedding booked in to officiate at on Saturday - so I'm hoping that nothing happens until after the wedding. Though I do have another celebrant booked in to officiate for me if things happen earlier than expected!

Euphemisms for Pain...

Tickle.

Since when is "tickle" an adequate euphemism for pain?

Why is this relevant you may ask...

Well, I have had numerous friends and acquaintances recommend to me over the past few months that prior to the birth of baby 2 I get a "Brazilian wax" - for those of you not in the know see this wikipedia entry http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brazilian_wax that explains it.

Now I've never had a Brazilian Wax before though I've been waxing my legs for years and I have to admit that was a little concerned about the pain that might be involved. I spoke to one of my friends about it and she reassured me that rather than be painful it does tend to "tickle a bit".

TICKLE A BIT!

SHE MUST BE FRIGGING KIDDING ME!

It's been 2 and half years since I was in so much pain - and 2 and half years ago I was able to get an epidural - this was pure mind over... tickling!

To make matters worse my beautician was a lovely young woman doing her *first* Brazilian. It was 45 minutes of endurance - although to be fair the really bad bits didn't take that long.

I finally got home and had to shower to get the excess wax off - imagine when you get your legs waxed and your trousers stick to the little bits of wax that don't quite get removed. Well - multiple that discomfort by 100! Then you might be getting close.

Well it's now been a couple of hours and a warm shower since my trauma - I won't need to be shaved (one hopes) prior to my c-section but I'm not sure this is something that I'm willing to go through again any time soon (or at all for that matter!).

A little TICKLE - I think I've heard it all!

What not to serve a diabetic pregnant woman!

This is the cake my sister made for my father for Hanukkah (Jewish festival of lights). Certainly *not* diabetic friendly. Fortunately I'm not much for this sort of cake anyway, so I was in no way offended. The apple crumble my mother made was much more suitable for me and I totally enjoyed it!

Hanukkah has moved into the final day and we lit the candles for the last time this evening. One of the great joys of parenthood for me has been watching my son enjoy the ritual of lighting the candles each night. His face lights up with joy as he helps light the candles and he's sad when they go out each night. This is the first time he's really been able to enjoy Hanukkah and the last time he'll enjoy it as an only child.


For the first time in years I didn't indulge in the Hanukkah tradition of eating donuts, though I was able to enjoy a few of my sister's latkes that were just great. I have to say that I've been enjoying the odd piece of chocolate money (low GI) that I've managed to fit into my strict diet.

It's really final days now. I'm booked in to have my baby via c-section on 4th January (if I don't go into labour earlier) and it's nice to know that there's an end date in sight. While I don't really want to go into the details of my birth story with my son it is enough to say that the 3rd degree tear and fractured coccyx that a I suffered as a result of a forceps birth is what has led to the need for a c-section this time. I have the usual fear of going in for major abdominal surgery but I figure that it can't be any worse that the recovery from the birth of my son. In a few weeks I'll know for sure.

We've had some scorching hot days here in Sydney and yesterday was horrible. It was still 30 degrees Celsius in the house when I tried to get to sleep last night and it was difficult to come by. Eventually I nodded off - probably about the same time the cool change arrived and brought the temperature down. It was lovely and cool today and I'm hoping that there aren't too many more really hot days between now and when our son is born.

I'm going to enjoy a relaxing weekend (I hope) and then get the last few things I can get done next week when I have 2 days of child care to make the most of :).

Living with Gestational Diabetes... and counting down

Me and my boy at the park - Dec 09 - counting down....

So, it's been AGES since my last post.

What can I say?

I've been busy.

Tired.

Sore.

All of the above in varying combinations. I still have to say that I *hate* being pregnant. At least now I'm counting down and the end is in sight.

I've been good at managing to control the gestational diabetes (GD) with just diet and exercise. And on the up side I don't think I've put on any weight at all since my last post because I've had to be very careful about my diet and very good at exercising to keep the diabetes under control. On the negative side I'm developing calluses on my fingertips from poking them with a needle 4 times a day to measure my blood sugar.

It's funny, reading back on previous posts how much I had to say, but that now, 6 weeks after my last post I'm struggling. So I think I'll just write about a few things that have happened in the past 6 weeks and see how we go.

A Very Hot Day and a Wedding
A few weeks ago one of my colleagues got married. There were a bunch of us at work who had been invited to the ceremony and we'd arranged to leave work at lunch time and make the journey to the outskirts of Sydney to see the wedding ceremony. This particular colleague has been counting down to the wedding from the time she got engaged, at one point there was a number well over 500 on the countdown board - so for many of us it's something we'd been looking forward to for some time.

Unfortunately the day of the wedding also happened to be a day where the weather forecast was for an incredibly hot 42 degrees Celsius. Yes, you read correctly 42 degrees. Hubby suggested to me the night before that I just decide not to go and that people would understand, I am very pregnant and it is going to be very hot. I didn't like this idea as it was something that I had been very much looking forward to so instead I put my thinking cap on and tried to come up with some solutions that would get me through the day. I came up with:

1. Soaking some hankies in water and then freezing them so I could drape them around my neck and wrists
2. Filling a water bottle with water and freezing it so I had a source of cold water
3. buying an "instant cold pack". This is one that you buy from a chemist and when it's ready to use you just snap something inside and shake until it's cold.
4. Wear a dress that would keep me cool and tie up my hair off my neck
   

Here is a picture of the result - hankie on neck and water bottle in hand!

The goods was that I survived, despite the pastor going on and on and on and on.... after the ceremony was complete. It was beautiful and my colleague is (so far) loving married life!


One of the other things that I've been quite pleased with is that so far (touch wood) I've been managing to keep my fluids at levels that mean I've still free of "cankles" - this is a technical term that describes when your ankles disappear and instead you just have calves and then feet. One of my friends was so impressed with my ankles that she took this picture of my ankles at 33 weeks pregnant and posted it on facebook.

A Trip to the Train Shed with our Boy

Another highlight of the past 6 weeks was a very special morning out with our son. He is a bit fond of "Thomas the Tank Engine" and so we wanted to go and do something special with him before he's overcome with the craziness of a new baby brother. So we took him to The Train Shed. The Train Shed is located at Vicary's Winery which is about 20 mins from Penrith in Sydney, about an hours drive from home. It is home to a miniature train track complete with trains from the "Thomas the tank Engine" series. It was a bit overcast the day we went (which kept the temperature down, and we were joined by my parents for the day out. Our boy had the time of his life - unlimited rides on the trains and a hot dog for lunch. It was definitely worth the trip and I'd highly recommend it for any parents of toddlers who are fans of "Thomas". Beware that it tends to get crowded the closer you get to lunchtime, but because it was a morning trip for us it wasn't too bad at all.
The rest of the past 6 weeks has been devoted to trying to finish up all the stuff at work and ensure that we hired someone to do my relief for the next 13 months who is (or will become after some learning) competent so that I come back to a job that hasn't turned pear shaped. It's also been filled with appointments at the hospital. Unfortunately due to the GD I wasn't able to continue with the shared care with my GP and am now back at the hospital for all my appointments.

We had our son through the public hospital system and I couldn't have been more impressed, and I have to say that even now that I'm not using my preferred choice of care (due to the GD) I have still been nothing but impressed with the standard of care - and I do wonder why people spend thousands upon thousands of dollars using the private system when our public system is so good.... oh well. Each to their own.

Anyway, during the past 6 weeks I've seen:

• Midwives
• Obstetricians
• An Endocrinologist
• A dietitian

and a diabetes educator.

I've also had just a phone call away both the dietitian and the diabetes educator who have been invaluable in helping me manage the GD. I even got to go out and enjoy a high tea with my friends and manage it (sort of) without the help of insulin.

The high tea with friends was a wonderful way to come to the end of my pregnancy. We had an indulgent afternoon tea at the Swissotel in Sydney and I think them all (you know who you are), particularly my good friend Kylie who pulled it all together for me.

I'm pleased to say that on this, my first day of leave I managed to sleep in, update my blog, and now I'm just about ready to head to the hospital for another round of appointments. Hope to update more often now that that pesky thing called work is over with for a good 13 months!

Gestational Diabetes and 3rd Trimester Moments

Firstly some good news.

My train ticket was handed in.

Amazing. It restores my faith in people. It was minus the $10 emergency cash that I keep in it in case I find myself at work (or elsewhere) having forgotten my wallet - but I'm prepared to call that a "tip" for whoever found and handed in my ticket.

Fortunately it was found and they called my local station before the sent in my application for a replacement. Otherwise I'd have had to pay for the replacement ticket regardless.

That was a good day.

Then I had a pregnancy moment. I made myself an ice cream (nothing extraordinary there) and then put the ice cream back into the fridge. Hubby found it two days later and asked me why I'd put it back into the fridge... No idea, but methinks the fridge is better than the cupboard!

I had my gestational diabetes test last week and the results came back a bit high - so I had another more complicated test that involves a high carb (!!) diet for 3 days, fasting and then 3 blood tests. They get you to drink this horrible sugar heavy drink and then test how well your body metabolises the sugar.

In my case it's not well.

I now have gestational diabetes (GD).

It's not until after I talk to my mother that I discover that grandparents on both sides have type 2 diabetes which automatically puts me at higher risk for developing GD. I was in too much shock when the midwife called to ask how high my sugar levels were but I've got a whole heap of appointments over the next 2 weeks to attend and to figure out how to manage this new condition.

I've done a bit of reading and discovered that I may be able to manage it through diet and exercise. The bit that concerns me though, is that the recommended diet is not all that different to what I'm eating now - and if I can't manage it through diet and exercise then I'll have to take insulin. I'm already concerned about the machine I have to get to prick my finger and test my blood 4 times a day, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. It's only 10 weeks now until our son is born so hopefully everything will be OK.

I'm now exhausted at the end of each day and the backache has returned. I'm going to reintroduce myself to my Wii Fit this weekend and see if I can get any relief that way - I don't think it's a good idea to take panadol every night before I go to bed but I'm just soooo incredibly sore.

We're out for a picnic with friends tomorrow so hope that turns out to be enjoyable. Then next week it's meet the diabetes educator and dietitian.

Fingers crossed :).

Trimester 3 - the countdown begins

So, I've finally made it to trimester 3. The last few months have been quite amazing when I look back. I haven't hated being pregnant most days - though I'd not go so far as to say that I'm enjoying it. The back pain has eased off and while I do get tired easily I've been managing long days much better than at any other tie in my pregnancy.

Sydney public transport still sux. I have still had to stand up on crowded trains because no one will offer me their seat. I now try very hard not to miss my 7.12am train which is empty enough (because of the early hour) that I don't have to ask for a seat and the 7.17am train isn't too bad either, but any later and it's impossible. I think I'm also going to have to start eyeballing people and asking for a seat because it's getting obvious that no one is polite enough to offer it to me. Though I have to admit that the other morning as I was trying hard to stay conscious (I have low blood pressure in the mornings and often feel faint), I did wonder if I'd be better off just fainting. That would make all these lovely people late for work (and everyone else on the train line) while they stopped the train to get help (or would they just turn a blind eye and not bother - interesting thought). Then perhaps next time, not because a pregnant woman needs to sit but out of pure self interest (not wanting to be late) they might think twice about not offering a seat. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

I'm really enjoying my job at the moment. It's not because I only have 7 weeks and 2 working days left until I'm on maternity leave - really it's not. It's actually challenging, and fun and rewarding. It's just a shame that it takes until I'm pregnant and about to go on extended leave that I find something I'm enjoying this much in a job that I've been doing (with a few different portfolios) for the last 5 years. I'm working with some fantastic people who seem to enjoy the work as much as I do which also contributes to my satisfaction. Let's just hope that when I get back to it in Jan 2011 it's just as enjoyable.

There's a book that we bought for Master 2, called "There's a House Inside My Mummy" which is all about a pregnant woman and her family, and features a toddler about his age. He loves the book so much I have to read it to him every night and his favourite bit is the last page where the long awaited "bubba" makes an appearance. "Bubba came out" he yells in delight. Here's hoping that the delight doesn't turn to jealousy too quickly.

This week I had a checkup at the hospital with the doctor. I'd meant to take a cushion with me after my last experience with a 2 hour wait, but it was much quicker this time and I got in to see the obstetrician within about 40 mins. I also had my glucose test (the quick one that only takes just over an hour) to check for gestational diabetes. The midwife called me to say that my results were a little on the high side and that I'd have to do the long test to make sure everything was OK. The long test involves a high carb diet for 3 days prior, then fasting from 9pm the previous night (water is OK) and then heading to the lab. The lab takes a blood test, gets you to drink a disgustingly sweet glucose filled drink then sit still for 2 hours. After the 2 hours has passed they again poke you with a needle and take a test. That will be fun. Not. Fortunately my work allows me access to 35 hours over the course of my pregnancy to special maternity leave - that is leave to attend ante-natal doctors appointments. I'm very glad because I can't imagine trying to sit still for 2 hours with Master 2 in tow!

Yesterday (or was it Monday) I did a pregnancy thing and have lost my travel tickets. I have a little wallet that has my train ticket, bus travel 10 and bus card for the private bus service that operates near my house and $10 emergency cash in it. I arrived at the train station in the city yesterday morning to discover it was no where to be found. I turned my bag inside out, checked at home, in my car even called city rail lost property. nope. Nada. nothing. And little chance it will be handed in - the ticket lasts until I got on mat leave in mid - Dec, it had about 4 or 5 unused bus trips and cash. Whoever found it must think they scored big time. Bah. Fortunately the periodical ticket can be replaced for a fee (still cheaper than replacing it) - so I'm trying to sort that out.

The weather has warmed up - but it was so hot out today that I felt a bit light headed. Hope it doesn't get too hot too quickly otherwise the next 12 weeks will be very difficult. Thank goodness I don't live in the tropics!

Parvo Virus B19 - Week 25

So, it's my final week of trimester 2 - things are starting to get a whole lot more uncomfortable for me now. Whether it's the middle of the night trips to the loo, the soccer game that my unborn son insists on playing in my belly when my posture squeezes leaves something to be desired or just trying to get from A to B....

I got an email this week from Master 2's daycare centre to say that they have had a case of Parvo virus B19 (slapped cheek) in the centre and that they have to notify pregnant women who should consult their doctor.

Having not ever heard of "slapped cheek" before I head for the trusted google search to see what I can find out. I find a fact sheet from NSW Health (http://www.health.nsw.gov.au/factsheets/infectious/parvovirus.html) amongst the range of information available which tells me that usually there's no problem, but for it may lead to miscarriage for women in the first half of pregnancy.

I call the doctor, who says that it's not an emergency, but that he'd like to see me anyway, so I've got an appointment for later in the week.

But it gets me thinking - the email from the childcare centre was sent to me because they know I'm pregnant. If the risk is highest for the first half of pregnancy (the first 12-13 weeks of which most people don't tell anyone they're pregnant) - surely the centre has a responsibility to inform all parents, not just those who are obviously pregnant... food for thought?

So, I'm having less trouble getting a seat on public transport, thanks to the ever more protruding belly. But I had an interesting experience at Central Station recently.

On a slight tangent, has anyone else noticed how annoying it is that the bench seats at central station on the platforms are now divided into 3 with armrests? I think that they thought it might stop the homeless having somewhere to sleep, but what it has meant in reality is that a seat that can comfortably accommodate 4 people (or 5 smaller people) now has a max of 3 - you do the maths....

Anyway, back to my story....
I was waiting for a train and a seat became available on the platform which I began walking towards (is it still called walking when there's an ever so slight side to side tilt?). Another woman in her fifties perhaps walked in front of me clasping her handbag and sat down. To say I was astonished was an understatement - she did a good job of ignoring everyone around her as she dug through her handbag for something (a grenade perhaps?). Next to her was a woman with a small baby attached to her front in a baby Bjorn who promptly stood up for me. I told her not to worry that her baby was surely heavier than mine (as I know from experience), but she was insistent as she said "I remember what it was like". Bah. Why is it that it is usually only women of childbearing age who even pretend to notice pregnant women on public transport (or is this just a large city (Sydney) phenomenon?

Moving around is becoming more challenging for me. Early mornings are the worst, my blood pressure is low and I can't even manage the steps up from the platform at the station (thank goodness for lifts). Usually I walk from Wynyard Station to Town Hall Station in Sydney one day a week when I've left Master 2 with grandparents and that's where the end of the bus ride is, but lately I've arrived at work after walking and felt ready enough to go straight back to sleep (not to mention that the 10 min walk now takes closer to 20 min). I try and walk anyway, because I know it's good for me but it's becoming a struggle.

Most pregnant women suffer similar discomfort during their pregnancy and having trouble sleeping is just one of them. I find myself in the unusual position of waking up each morning and finding myself asleep on my (ever growing) belly. Sort of, well as much as you can when you're pregnant, but I think it takes the weight off my spine and must be comfortable. Usually my unborn son is kicking me as well almost as if he's saying "GET OFF ME, MUM!".

The other discomforts that I'm getting are some reflux (that a small glass of milk before bed seems to help with, even if it ensure I'm up to empty my bladder during the night), and some sciatica in my left side. Oh yeah and some unusual swelling in unusual places (but I think that fits into the category of TMI!).

Other than that, the last month has been almost pleasant. Spring is definitely here, the garden is blooming and smelling divine. I've had only 1 hot day of travel on an unconditioned train and let me tell you, I'm NOT looking forward to the heat of summer arriving.

Work is going well, I'm really enjoying it at the moment. The work is good, my team are a joy to work with and it's almost a shame that I have just over 10 weeks left before my baby is due. I can only hope that it stays as enjoyable on my return!

Holidays and Trauma

Last weekend was also Jewish New Year. As with any family holiday it's usually a chaotic event. This year, however promised to be something different. We often have dinner on both first and second night, even though we only really celebrate one day in our household. This year 2nd night was going to be the big family (read chaotic) event. My aunt was hosting and we were starting early to make concessions for the growing number of little people in the family. Now we have 4 (3, 2, almost 2, and 1) we want to try and make it as pleasant as we can for everyone. This necessarily means not waiting until 7pm to eat. So it was a 5.30pm start.

First night we decided to do something different. Given we were doing the big family thing on 2nd night, some friends of ours who don't have family in Sydney agreed to host. There were only 6 adults and 3 kids and it was a lovely meal. A nice change from the chaotic family events we usually do. All the kids had a great time and because it was at a "child friendly" location it was relaxing for us as well. Must try and do this each year :)). Saturday night was the family event, not as chaotic as it might have been and it was lovely to have an early start and be home by 8pm for Master 2 to have a relatively normal sleep.

Our trauma happened Saturday morning.

I had decided to put Master 2 into a lovely white shirt to wear to Synagogue but it needed ironing. I got out the iron - had to bribe him with a chocolate to put the damn thing on - and of course, it's far too big. I found an alternate shirt for him, turned off the iron, told him to be careful because it's hot (he's usually VERY good about not touching hot things), and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Then I hear a yelp followed screams and tears.

My heart jumps into my mouth and I run out to discover that he has touched the iron with his thumb and has had a nasty fright and a small burn. His little hand goes under the water for the required time but he's inconsolable. The only way I can get him to stop wailing is by trying to help him regulate his breathing - in and out, in and out.

Eventually I go searching for my "burn aid" a soothing cream you can use on minor burns, but to my disgust it's nowhere to be found (later I recall throwing it out as it was a few years out of date). I decide to pack him up and take him to Synagogue anyway - I can't see the burn myself and while I know from experience how much these things hurt, I hope that with some distraction he'll be OK. We stop at the chemist to buy some more cream and head for the toddlers service. Master 2 has his left hand in a cup of water and only seems to be calm when his hand is submerged. Sometime during the car ride he spills most of the cup of water so that by the time we arrive he is absolutely soaking wet. And still inconsolable.

You'd think in a toddler service no one would bother giving me filthy looks for a crying child - but no, this group of parents seems no more indulgent or understanding than any other group of adults. I'd met my Dad at the Shul and he had decided that after the toddler service he'd take Master 2 home to his place so I could go to the main service and meet them at his place for lunch. Toddler service out - we literally shove Master 2 (still crying uncontrollably) into my Dad's car and he takes him home. Instructions are given to my Mum for a dose of panadol and some TLC.

My experience at the service was difficult this year. There's a particular prayer that relates to the story that on New Year God writes in the book of life and death - who should live and who should die and the manner in which they will die. How many shall pass on and how many shall come to be... The prayer concludes with a verse that claims "repentance, prayer and charity temper judgements severe decree". Given the rawness of emotion still with me after the death of our good friends son (he didn't survive even until the early induced birth, and was stillborn) I found myself with tear running down my face. The idea that is espoused in this prayer that their actions might have prevented this event make me angry and sad and make faith extremely difficult. I hope that their holiday period was not too traumatic and that their prayers are answered - I also pray that our unborn son makes his journey without incident.

It's been a rather emotional week.

Happy New Year to all, and may you be written in the book of life.

I need to slow down!

Last week was a little bit busy for me.

I was asked to speak to a group of uni students about one of areas of activism that interests me. Usually I'd be pleased to be asked, but being 22 weeks pregnant I had to pause and consider whether or not this was something I could reasonably do. It was a Monday, a work day for me and because my workdays are long (9 hours) I generally avoid making commitments on nights where I have worked and then have to get up and do it again the next day.

There was also the "how do I get home" consideration, but as most of you would realise, if you want to do something then you can generally find a way. So after making sure I could get home at a decent hour (they provided me with a cab charge voucher) I agreed. What I didn't do first was check that I had no other alternate commitments that week.

As fate would have it, I have a commitment one Tuesday a month, and, you guessed it, the day following my talk I again had a commitment straight after work. The thing is - the talk I gave was great, good engagement, but it's hard work. Hard when you have a growing foetus roughly the size of a barbie doll and all the accoutrement's (placenta etc) squashing your diaphragm. Hard when you know what you're talking about is contentious, and hard when you have lots and lots of questions thrown your way. By the time I got into a taxi I was absolutely exhausted.

Fortunately, my Tuesday night commitment is much less taxing. It's usually reasonably passive and doesn't involve much participation - and once I've signed in, I can leave before it gets too late. After all my now obviously pregnant belly makes for a great excuse for all such occasions.

Wednesday evenings I'm usually out of the house. Before I fell pregnant I was a reasonably active sportsperson, and my sports association needed someone to supervise the grounds on a Wednesday night. Keen to stay in touch with my mates who I otherwise never see, and given it's not a particularly onerous task I readily agreed. Hubby gets home in time to look after Master 2, we have an early dinner together and I'm home before it's too late. Most weeks not at all difficult. After 2 consecutive nights out, I have to say I wasn't particularly looking forward to another one. The weather was lovely and mild and I got to catch up with friends and watch some games which was pleasant enough. But by the time last week finished I was absolutely exhausted.

I really really need to slow down.

Maybe next week.

Our big boy - and other news

After our return from our overseas holiday we had the added bonus of a day off work with Master 2 in day care.

Apart from catching up on the mundane household activities of laundry, we both enjoyed some extra sleep and I even went out for a few hours. We decided though, that this was a perfect time to help our little boy move into a proper bed. Everything we've read about new babies suggest that any changes for the older sibling get under way as early as possible before we bring home baby so that he doesn't associate all of the changes with the new baby.

Things are never as simple as they seem.

Firstly we had to find the tools. Hubby insisted that I had "lost" them and that we couldn't possibly do the bed without them. After some prompting he did a better search of his office, and finally found the offending tools - minus the Allen key. Hubby then began insisting that I'd taken the Allen key (to use to assemble Master 2's bike). He was insistent that it wasn't in the tool box. Finally I gave in and went to the tool box and started searching. After only a few seconds I had not just one, but 2 Allen keys in my hands!

I had already spent some time going through the bedroom to make it safe for the inevitable, when Master 2 realises he can hop out of bed and get into everything! Away go all the dangerous items, and the nappies go into a nappy stacker to make it that much more difficult to get into them. Wonder how long it will take before he's out of bed and into things?

Hubby headed into the kids room to start taking off the side of the cot ready to replace it with the bed rail. It was at this point that we realised that we'd put the cot together incorrectly when we first bought it. The holes to accommodate the bed rail were on the same side of the cot as the railing that we didn't take off. So we had to unscrew the base, turn it around, and put it back together before putting the railing on. We finally got it on and I headed out to pick up Master 2 from day care.

He got home and was so excited by his new "big boy bed" that he spent some time getting in and out of it and practicing going to sleep.

It was a different story at bedtime.

"Daddy fix it" said Master 2.
"Fix what?"
"Daddy fix bed!"

Ahhh. Now it was bedtime gone was the excitement instead there was fear and dread in his tired little eyes. The bed wasn't made up with sheet and blankets as Master 2 sleeps in a sleeping bag. But a sheet with Pooh Bear characters on it and a proper blanket all tucked in like "Mummy and Daddy's bed" seemed to do the trick. He was a little unsettled but managed to sleep through the night without falling out. He didn't get into stuff this morning so perhaps it might take a few days (or can I hope for weeks or months??) before he realises his potential?

In other news, our friends whose baby was diagnosed with a fatal brain tumour at 33 weeks were induced and lost their son. It's an emotional roller coaster for all involved and our hearts go out to them as we with them and their loved ones long life. This holiday season will be terribly difficult and we can only be there for support.

Work is looming, baby is kicking, tummy is growing (but amazingly enough the rest of me doesn't seem to be, even with 5 days of mega indulgence). The weather is warming up, spring has arrived. The garden is flowering and we're all healthy.

Baby Moon in Vanuatu

We're home from our "babymoon". Apparently that's what they are called these days - the holidays that parents take before they are overcome with sleeplessness and everything else associated with a new baby. I wonder, is it still called a babymoon if you take a toddler?

I didn't hate being pregnant as much this week - in fact there were times that I felt almost normal!

We spent our short (4 night 6 day) babymoon in Vanuatu. This was despite our initial intent to go back to Fiji where we've had a good time previously. The reason for the change of plan was twofold. Hubby was concerned about the political instability and I decided that I didn't want my tourism money in any way assisting the economy of a dictatorship that has shunned democracy.

So it was Vanuatu here we come.

We decided to spend more than we'd planned and go in style and so began searching for resorts on the mainland (the outer Islands have a higher risk of malaria - not recommended for anyone, but particularly for pregnant women!). We wanted somewhere with a kids club and ended up with a choice between the highly recommended Le Lagon and Le Meridien Port Vila. A quick look at trip advisor (www.tripadvisor.com) had us convinced that Le Lagon was the place to go. We contacted the travel agent and were all set, only to discover that it was fully booked at the time we wanted to go. Not to be deterred we tried other dates, only to discover that it would have cost us double what we'd already decided was a very generous budget for a short holiday. Back to drawing board we did some more research on Le Meridien - some of the comments on the website were less than inviting but there were also some positive ones. We decided to risk it and booked Le Meridien.

Our departure date loomed, we borrowed my uncle's portable DVD player to assist with difficult times with Master 2, particularly on the plane flight.

The trip over was uneventful - the plane was only about half full and Master 2 was very well behaved. The DVD player was a godsend, and between that and some rice crackers the 2 1/2 hour flight really did fly!

We arrived at Le Meridien and I was a little concerned but it was all for nothing. Check-in was quick, our room was ready and though the agent hadn't passed on our request for a cot for Master 2, by the time we checked in and got down to the room it was set up and made up for us. It had been a long day for Master 2, so he was tucked in for an afternoon sleep while hubby and I sat on the patio outside our room and had a read.

We had a chance to explore the resort - while not new and modern, it had all the amenities we could ask for. 2 pools, a toddler pool, a playground, a kids club, 2 restaurants as well as a pool side bar and dining. Our room was fine, though sharing with Master 2 became interesting at bedtime at night. He kept doing the "Jack in the box" thing where he'd pop up from the cot to investigate even the slightest of noises. It took quite some discipline to ignore him.

The 4 days were filled with sleeping (us and Master 2, lots of it), reading, swimming (not heaps), eating (far too much), and keeping our toddler amused.

The staff at the resort were so good with kids. Each meal we enjoyed at the resort came with live music, from the 2 men at breakfast to the 1/2 dozen by the pool side bar, it kept Master 2 amused. He'd clap when they finished and say "more song". The staff learnt his name and would keep a keen eye on him as he made his escape from the Veranda restaurant mid way through a meal. They were indulgent and so obviously used to children that we didn't feel at all uncomfortable (as parents of toddlers so often do) even during his rattiest moments. Perhaps the proliferation of child (under 15) free resorts mean that those with little tolerance stay away.

We discovered a lovely restaurant in town called "Chill". It overlooks Port Vila harbour and has a kids menu that includes an activity mat, crayons and a take home souvenir cup - we went back twice for dinner. The food at the restaurant come more quickly than at the resort and again, the staff were incredible.

Our flight home was longer (thanks to headwind) and took almost 4 hours. It was hard going. It was an afternoon flight and Master 2 had such a tiny sleep as to be rendered insignificant in the morning before we left. He was tired and cranky and didn't want to be stuck (by a seat belt) on the aeroplane. Unfortunately the seat belts on a plane are much simpler for a toddler to learn to undo so there was no keeping him pinned to his seat. The DVD player was useful but was never going to keep him amused the entire trip. A couple of times he almost gave in to sleep but never quite got there. It was a very long trip.

Home sweet home. We had the most amazingly quick trip through at the airport. I would not have believed it if someone had told me I'd be at home one hour after landing. It was a small plane that wasn't full, and we were sitting at the back - so by the time we got off and threw out all the food we had in our bags and want to take through quarantine, there was no queue at immigration, our baggage was already on the carousel, no queue at customs and no queue for taxis. Truly amazing.

So that was the babymoon. Back to work on Monday. 13 weeks before I go on maternity leave... It's all happening!

Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?

Today came some very bad news for some friends.

I have been friends with the male half of this couple since I was a teenager. We grew up together, shared hopes and dreams. We even went to a high school formal together.

His wedding was one of the first we went to, we've travelled together, eaten together and they were around during the first few months of our son's life.

It seems like just yesterday when they announced they were expecting their first child - so pleased were they with their news. Like us, they had very few problems falling pregnant and the pregnancy seemed to go along with few complications.

Just last week she vented to friends the horror that is a trip to Ikea when in the last trimester of pregnancy (or ever - if we're being truthful). The baby shower was planned, the new house finished so finally space away from the in-laws.

Just when it seemed that everything was on track - things started to fall apart.

Today, news that their unborn child has an aggressive brain tumour with a poor prognosis turned joy to heartbreak.

To hear that heartbreak from my friend, his hopes and dreams for his first son brought me to tears.

As I sit here cradling my 20 week belly tears running down my face I am grateful for my health and that of my unborn son.

I feel emotion so strong for a loss I can't bare to understand.

I feel the grief and pain that no parent should suffer.

I hope that my own growing foetus does not bring more pain to my friends to grieve for what could have been, but never was.

Soon I will be angry - for those parents who abuse their children, who neglect them, who seem to not appreciate the good they have.

But for now I grieve for my friends, and pray that they find the strength from each other, from family and from friends to get through this together.

Public hospital care, babymoon booked and getting older....

Dramas all around, so much has happened in the past 10 days (has it only been that long??).

Lots of the drama have left me hormonal and in tears but I think that's passed... so here goes.

Firstly - and I should be upfront about this.

I have an ideological objection to the private health system.

I am a believer that our public health system should be universal and second to none, and that people opting out of the system sends a message to government that "It's OK" to expect people to pay. I, for one (and I know I'm not the only one) would be more than happy to pay more tax for a better health care system. But it won't happen if people just opt out. So, this is primarily the reason for our choice of the public health care system.

But enough ranting and back to my story.

But first some history...

When our son was born I was fortunate enough to be accepted into the "Group Midwifery Program" at our local public hospital. The program meant that I was allocated my own midwife who had responsibility for my antenatal care, primary responsibility for my delivery and then my post natal care. The midwife I had was wonderful - my husband and I developed a relationship with her and I was able to call her at any time during my pregnancy with questions about my health or concerns.

There were some complications with the delivery of my son (you may choose not to read the gory details, if so skip to the next paragraph) - my labour failed to progress, he was posterior which meant I couldn't sit or lie down at all during the "pre labour" (which btw, lasted for 12 hours and they don't count as time in labour!). I ended up having an epidural, a forceps delivery and 3rd degree tears as well as damage to my coccyx. Recovery was 13 weeks (until I could sit without a foam pad).

Given these complications I was advised by the good doctors who helped with the delivery that unless I wanted to have more than 4 children (are you kidding - after that experience!), another natural delivery was too risky. My midwife and I discussed what my options might be and she suggested that I call her to talk further before we started trying for our 2nd child. Unfortunately by this stage (18 months later) she'd moved on and so it was to another midwife that I spoke. She was unfamiliar with the complications I'd experienced but nevertheless spoke to the doctor who overseas the program about my options. I was serious overjoyed when she came back and told me that due to "continuity of care" there shouldn't be any problems with me going back through the program with baby 2 even though we knew I was to have a "planned caesarean" (a term I dislike btw).

So now you're up to date with the history...

Everything was going well - or so I thought. I booked into the hospital and had my required appointment with the clinic doctor (2 hours of waiting later - I keep reminding myself of my ideology!!). She was less than useful. She hadn't looked at my file and after listening to my lay person version of events assured me that I could have a natural birth. I nearly had a fit, well no, actually I nearly burst into tears. I asked her if she'd read my file and she said no, and I said that with all due respect until she had read it and understood the risks that the OBs who delivered my son had outlined I wasn't going to be taking any of her advice. When said that I had to continue seeing the docs at the clinic and couldn't see the midwives (btw, NOTHING she did at that appointment couldn't have been done by one of the midwives), tears again threatened to overwhelm me. I said that I wasn't prepared to come back and wait 2 hours for an appointment each time I had to have an appointment - at which point she wavered and said I could see the midwives except for 2 appointments, one at 28 week and one at 36. Because she explained condescendingly that midwives weren't able to book me in for a caesarean (really??!!).

I then got a call from the midwife who was assigned to me who said that because of my history she couldn't commit to take me on until she'd cleared it with the doctor that runs their unit. I was OK with this phone call because I'd already done my homework and was reasonably sure that there wouldn't be any problems...

A week later the midwife called me back.

"I've got bad news" she said.

My heart sank.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"The doctor has looked at your file and there are just too many 'No's and not enough 'yes's" she said.

I was a blubbering mess.

I couldn't cope with going to see different clinic doctors or midwives at each appointment. I did everything right, everything that they told me.

"What about continuity of care?" I asked (well if you can call it that when I'm struggling to keep my composure and have tears running down my face).

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my decision and there's nothing I can do".

I hung up the phone and burst into tears. Master 2 had no idea what was going on... "Mummy's cwrying" he observes, "Mummy's sad".

I was devastated.
I cried for a while until I felt like I could have a conversation and then called my mum.

I asked her to come over and keep me company and to help me with Master 2 who was at his usual 4pm worst with far too much energy and pulling things apart. I called hubby who I knew was in a meeting and left a teary message asking him to come home.

My mum asked me if this meant I'd consider going private (she's a great fan of the private system and was unimpressed at my choice to go public - both times) and if not was it because of the cost. Look, it's not cheap but if we wanted to go private we could - but I'm due at the beginning of January (when lots of people are on holiday) and regardless anyone who was any good wouldn't have any availability...

But again, that's not the point.

I don't believe in private health care.

I keep reminding myself why when I could have saved myself some heartbreak....

I suppose lots of things about this situation upset me. And the pregnancy hormones aren't helping (yes, a stray tear escaped while writing this down as I re-live the heartbreak).

It's that we made certain decisions based on information that wasn't accurate (like if we *were* going to go private we'd have gotten the top level health insurance before we gave up the contraception).

I had such a great experience with my first pregnancy and delivery that I hadn't even considered other options and had my heart set on this one...

And of course, the lack of control and input into this decision.

But I found that out just after I wrote my last post and I'm feeling a bit better about it all now. My GP (who bulk bills) is registered for "shared care" at the local hospital which means I can go and see him instead of going to the hospital. I still have to see a clinic doc at 28 and 36 weeks but I would have had to do that even if I *had* been accepted into the program I wanted. I have a strategy for those appointments that should mean I don't have a 2 hour wait. My GP is very good at keeping close to time and his office hours are much more flexible than the clinic hours at the hospital. He knows me and my family so I'll have continuity of care. And I'll still have the option of using the early discharge program (3 days after caesarean) and having some home post natal care if we want it.

It's not what I wanted or had planned but it's not the end of the world.

Other news.

We've booked our "Babymoon + toddler" and we're going to Vanuatu for 4 nights in early September which should be lovely. Not the cheap holiday we'd been talking about but probably just what we need. Planning to keep a toddler amused during a 3 hour plane ride will be challenging but I'm sure we'll get there.

And I had a birthday. Nothing eventful but got a lovely gift from hubby. The entire series of "The West Wing" on DVD, 154 episodes - enough to have me watching stuff I enjoy while breastfeeding bub no 2.

Oh yeah. Scan no 2. Baby has all limbs and fingers and internal organs. Is now due 2 days earlier than first anticipated...

and

We're having another boy!


------------

Week 17 - and growing..

I'm settling into this pregnancy now - back pain and all.

A few months ago (OK, maybe closer to 6) hubby went out and bought a Wii (for me, he says). He reckons that I'll be able to use it while I'm breastfeeding child 2 (this was before I was even pregnant mind you). This he thinks will keep me amused instead of having to record a whole lot of stuff on TV to watch. We'd been tossing up buying a Wii Fit, but I didn't really want to spend the money... A few weeks ago I walked past a shop that was having a sale and it was $50 cheaper than anywhere else I have seen, so I gave in and bought one.

It wasn't until last weekend though that I actually bothered to set it up, and I have made an amazing discovery! It seems that using the Wii Fit is helping my back pain - which sort of makes sense in a strange type of way. After all I'm not supposed to be using it for aerobic exercise but there are a whole range of balance games that seem to help keep my spine in alignment. The real test will be when I see my physio next weekend and how much difference it's made to my spinal alignment, but in the meantime if it keeps the pain to a minimum then why not. My challenge is to try and use it for 30 mins each day. This week I've managed it on days that I don't work, but the other days not at all. I'm too tired or sore by the time I get home and Master 2 is in bed to be able to have a go.

In other news a very good friend of mine has also announced that she is pregnant (actually 2 have in the past couple of weeks if I'm to be accurate). The best news is that she and her hubby are so excited, and there are only a couple of weeks between our due dates, so we're going to be off on maternity leave together.... I can't wait! It was almost embarrassing how excited I was when I heard the news. What can I say - I'm a big dag!

So at week 17 (almost 18) my tummy is getting bigger - I can still (just) get away with wearing non maternity clothing and if I'm wearing certain clothes and don't stand up straight you still can't tell I'm up the duff. The one day of the week I make sure I look VERY pregnant is the day that Master 2 stays with Nanna and Grandad and I have to get a bus to and from work. They are sometimes crowded and in the mornings in particular if I don't get to sit down, fainting is a very distinct possibility!

.... 'til next time.

Dining out with a toddler

Yesterday we decided that we weren't going to cook dinner. Hubby suggested take away but I wanted to go out as I'd just cleaned the kitchen and didn't want to clean up again.

I had a function on at one of the organisations I'm involved with - someone talking about Asylum Seekers and the global issue of refugees. So I had to be someone by 7.30pm...

I was reminded of the last time we went out for dinner with Master 2. Lovely Indian restaurant with the 3 of us and my mother - small monster tearing the restaurant apart and having tantrum after tantrum and refusing to eat. "Are you sure you want to go out with him???"

"yeah, it's a kid friendly restaurant - they give the kids pizza dough to play with and it's early. We'll be OK"

I was to be reminded of this comment time and time again last night.

So it's about 5.45pm and I call the local pizza place to make sure they are open - table for 3 in 15 mins... no worries. It's more like 30mins by the time we get up there.

We arrive, only to discover that we've been beaten there by a party of 20 teenagers accompanied by father/scout leader/coach or the like who had the attention of the only waiter and couldn't decide what to order. It took us about 10 mins to get a menu and at that point the waiter asked if Master 2 wanted some pizza dough to play with. "Yes, please" was our response as we then put in our order asking for Master 2's pizza to come first as an entrée.

10 mins later the teenager's entrée arrives. A good sign I feel as we ordered straight after them that Master 2's pizza wasn't far away. Another 5 mins passed by, the kitchen was incredibly busy with take away but still no sign of promised pizza dough. I asked the waiter if he could have it and she said "sure".

Master 2 is getting a little tired of playing with trains and hubby says "I did tell you this would happen" reminder no 1.

15 mins later (we'd been sitting there for 40 mins by now) and still no sign of the pizza dough. Master 2 has been drinking water out of a big glass, begging for some of "Mummy's drink" and playing with his little train and plane that we brought along to keep him amused, but his patience is wearing thin. Hubby asks a different staff member again for the pizza dough and it finally arrives.

Too late it seems to keep our boy amused. "Pizza, Pizza" he yells (literally) and we get filthy looks from someone at the take away counter. By this point we'd been in the restaurant 45 mins, and I don't care how long or how loud he yells, the teenagers have all finished their entree and still no sign of Master 2's food. It's 7pm and WAY past his dinner time.

Reminder 2 - "who was right?, I did tell you this would happen"...

I ask about his pizza and the owner says "Sorry about that, we were going to ask the waiter to apologise, it's just gone in, should be done in 5 mins". He says he's working on our pizza's now (45 mins after we've arrived - and we didn't order entrees), I told him that we could cope but it's a bit hard to explain to a 2 year old.

Finally the much anticipated margherita pizza arrives - too hot to eat and Master 2 gets his food.

The teenagers get their mains and the owner indicates that our pizza is on the way as well.

Then the waiter comes over with 2 medium pizzas - and explains that the kitchen made a mistake and that instead of making hubby's pizza with the 2 extra ingredients he's added to a meat lovers - they made him 2 pizzas. One plain meat lovers, and the other pizza just with the 2 extra ingredients. But that of course they wouldn't charge us for the second pizza. They had also forgotten to make my pizza.

By this point it was 20 mins from the start time of my function, so I told the waiter to tell the kitchen that if they hadn't made my pizza not to bother cause I had somewhere to be and couldn't wait. She offers to make me a salad, but I just eat a couple of pieces of margherita and we get the 2 other pizza's boxed up.

Hubby takes Master 2 to the car and I wait (quite patiently given all that's happened) at the til to pay our bill.

It's 7.25pm. My function starts at 7.30pm.

Finally one of the staff members tells me that my pizza is in the oven and will be ready in a minute if I can wait they will box it for me - and they aren't going to charge us for our meal "not at all?"
"no"

I'm pleasantly surprised - for the first time that night.

The pizza's are boxed and I take them to the car - drop hubby and master 2 at home then drive like a maniac to get to the function. I arrive 10 mins late. The gates are about to be closed - I'm lucky to make it.

The function was great. I had some food in my tummy and don't need to worry about cooking tomorrow night.

I think that Master 2 was very well behaved given the circumstances.

Despite odd looks from hubby, I'm determined to try eating out with him again. Not sure about the restaurant - do we go back?

That's still up for discussion.

Today is a holiday for me, our union picnic day.

Master 2 is at day care, hubby is at work. A rare day of indulgence.

I go out for lunch with my Mum, do some window shopping, and get my hair cut. Lovely.

I'm off to Adelaide for work for a couple of days. I have time to pack my bag in peace before I pick Master 2 up from daycare.

The best thing is that my regular day off is mid week, but I'll be in Adelaide, so I get Friday off as well. Another child and hubby free day - what to do???

Any ideas welcome.

What ever happened to my "mega immune" system?

It's been a shitty week.

Somewhere I'm sure I read somewhere that pregnant women have mega immune systems - whoever wrote it deserves to have what I've been in bed with for the past week.

It started with a little cough - nothing to worry about I tell myself. 24hours later I'm laid up with a fever breaking the 39 degrees Celsius barrier. No sore muscles, no runny nose just a blasted cough and this fever.

It's 3.45am, I'm in bed, dosed myself up with paracetamol before I start getting really worried about what a fever this high will do to my foetus - so I drag myself around the house pulling down all my pregnancy books looking in the index for "fever" hoping to reassure myself that it will all be OK. Do you think ANY of the books have any information about high fevers in pregnancy? Well none that I could lay my hands on at 4am. I retreated to hubby's study where his computer is busy doing something I can't understand and log on to the trusty Internet.

Thank goodness for Mothersafe. It's based at a Sydney hospital and provides information for pregnant and breastfeeding women about a variety of dangers. There I found a fact sheet on fevers and was able to reassure myself that a trip to the doctor the next day would be OK - that there was no need to wake up hubby and call an ambulance.

(http://www.sesiahs.health.nsw.gov.au/rhw/mothersafe.asp)

A visit to the doc the next day confirms that there's not much else I can do - take more paracetamol to keep the fever down, keep my fluid intake up and rest, rest rest. He's reasonably sure it's not swine flu and doesn't recommend I take Tamiflu but thinks I should be OK in a few days.

Unfortunately we have tickets to see Judith Lucy live at the Opera House on Saturday night with babysitters booked for the entire evening! I keep thinking I'll be OK. I try leaving the house Friday morning to drop master 2 at daycare. Return and sleep for 4 hours - nope. Not going to happen.

So we miss the show (hopefully our friends found other people to enjoy the tickets), but still use the babysitting so we can both have a lie in on Sunday morning. I've eaten almost 3 meals today so I'm hoping I'll be able to manage a day at work tomorrow. I have an afternoon appointment at the hospital so it won't be a long day - but I'm hoping I'll be up to it.

Super pregnancy immune system.

BAH!

Good news though is that hubby got the passports for him and Master 2 sorted, so we're all systems go to book our final holiday as a family of 3 (Vanuatu if you're curious!).

14 weeks and counting

It's been a couple of weeks since I started sharing our news with friends and family - so many I wanted to tell personally led my husband to comment "have you called the Daily Telegraph and the Herald yet?".

He's well known for being a smart arse.

Still it seems some people are finding out through osmosis or the gossip (really!!?? I didn't think I was important enough to gossip about!), but yet others who I thought would have known are still in the dark.

Take yesterday for example.

I hosted an afternoon for some of my friends with small children and had invited a consultant from Total Learning to come along and show us the range of educational books and CD Roms from her latest catalogue. Not everyone knew each other so we went around the room introducing ourselves and talking about the ages of the kids in our lives. When it got to me I said I had Master 2 and another one due in January (assuming common knowledge). At least 2 of my friends shrieked "Oh my goodness, congratulations". Obviously the gossip hadn't reached them!

I'm not sleeping as well as I did PP (pre-pregnancy) but this is not yet due to increased pressure on my bladder (I have that all to look forward to, hopefully later rather than sooner). I'm sleeping much more lightly and having the most incredibly realistic dreams. The dreams feature relatives, friends colleagues and complete strangers and are commonly nightmarish. Much to my dismay and hubby's they often are so realistic that I wake up mumbling, talking or groaning (less often laughing) in my sleep.

I sort of remember this from my first pregnancy, but not really. It's not really mentioned in any of the pregnancy books.

The other problem that my light sleeping has made more apparent is my dear husband's issue with snoring. He calls it breathing loudly but as friends he recently babysat for (they returned home to find him "breathing loudly" on the couch) can attest - it's a real problem. We've tried everything non surgical, the "silence" spray, the band aid type things that stick on top of his nose, and recently a plastic contraption that goes inside his nose and spreads his nostrils. PP they seemed to be mostly effective. Now I'm sleeping more lightly, not so much.

His novel solution? I should go and see a hypnotist so that I can learn to sleep through it.

One of my friends lent me a newly published book on pregnancy - in the same school as Kaz Cooke's "Up the Duff". It's called "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Hormones - Your One-Stop Survival Guide to Staying Sane During Pregnancy" - by Emma Tom. It's fantastic! I started reading it yesterday and because it's a week-by-week guide and I'm already 14 weeks I couldn't put it down until I got up to date. To put it in perspective I read 176 pages yesterday and when I looked up last night at my clock radio to find out the time before I finally went to sleep it read 12.20am. Yes, a book that keeps a pregnant woman up until after midnight, it must be good! I actually laughed out loud at a number of points and would highly recommend it to anyone going through pregnancy.

The other problem that I've encountered this week is low blood pressure - the "oh my God, I'm about to pass out" sort of low blood pressure. It began in earnest on Wednesday when I was trying to bake some cupcakes. I had to lie myself down on the kitchen floor at least 3 times while preparing the mixture. Add to that, Master 2 seems to believe anytime I'm horizontal it's time for him to 'rumble' made for an interesting morning. I had similar problems the rest of the week, so I'm trying to move more slowly. This is frustrating I know for fellow commuters who can't understand why a seemingly healthy woman takes so bloody long to climb the stairs at the station. Believe me, slow and steady is better than the reverse dominoes that would occur if I walked at my usual pace and passed out halfway up the stairs! My colleague suggested using the lift, but I'm a bit embarrassed.

This week as well I've discovered that I already have a little preggy belly - at 14 weeks! Those in the know tell me it's because my body has done this before it knows what to do and that it's not unusual. The trick is deciding if I want to look pregnant or not. When I have to fight for a seat on a peak hour bus it's definitely useful (though this week despite definitely looking pregnant I got the Sydney response - nuthin!). But jeans and a hoodie mean I can still get away with looking like nothing much has changed.

It's time to button down for another big week. I have a paid mat leave celebration tomorrow night at the office of the Sex Discrimination Commissioner, Liz Broderick that promises to be fun (even if I can't share a glass of bubbly). Tuesday night looks less like fun and more like hard work as I put my activist hat on and do my representative duty on a peak body. It's made up of people whose mean age (I kid you not) is 82 and whose politics are unfortunately so far from mine that I often feel like I'm banging my head against a brick wall. But you do what you can - right?

Here it is!

This is the latest addition to our family. We had the nuchal scan today and it's all very good news. I have the same chance of having a child with a chromosomal defect as that of a 15 year old. The genetic counsellor said that I should leave feeling very young.

The child was not very cooperative with the radiologist (are any??) and I was poked and prodded until my full bladder threatened to explode.

Fortunately for all concerned it didn't. My news is out - we're excited!

Who can you trust with a secret?

Week 12/13.

We have our nuchal scan tomorrow and assuming all's fine we'll be sharing our good news far and wide. Having said that it seems that no one can keep a secret anymore. Well, maybe not "no one" but the learning out of this experience is to trust your friends not necessarily those who you *should* be able to trust.

That may have been why I was so reluctant to share with anyone at work, but last week I shared my news with people based on job role rather than on personal relationships and I think that was the turning point. Until that point the only people I'd told at work were people who I had personal connections with and who I believed on the basis of those personal relationships would keep my secret. Last week I shared it with our leadership team, a group of people who share a role at work but not necessarily a personal connection.

A week later it seemed almost everyone in the office knew my news (but none had told me they knew). I thought about trying to find out who has a big mouth, but then I decided I didn't really care. After all, I'm almost passed the first trimester and the most danger of miscarriage. So I'll let sleeping dogs lie.

This weekend we told some of the extended family our news - they were all very excited and will make more public announcements after the scan tomorrow.

I hope it all goes well.

If it doesn't I think that there will be big arguments ahead - I think that hubby and I will have different thoughts on the next steps if we are high risk. Fortunately our age is on our side so I'm confident all will be fine.

What's more exciting is that we'll finally be able to confirm that there's only one foetus inside my belly. My grandmother was a twin, and those of my friends who enjoy seeing me squirm have been telling me that "it skips a generation". If we were to have twins we'd have to move house. I can't see how 3 kids could share a small bedroom. I don't want to move house.

What's even stranger are the changes I've already noticed in my body and the reactions of others who I share this information. I seem to have already (at 12 weeks!) lost my waist. I wore a lovely skirt last week and after dinner I had to pull it up under my boobs cause it was unbelievably tight. The top of my belly (that is above my belly button) seems to have grown already. I don't feel as though I'm big enough or ready for maternity clothes yet but when I tried some on over the weekend they made me look pregnant - at 12 weeks!

The reactions have ranged from:

"You're only 12 weeks" [obvious to me they are saying - you're just putting on weight, don't kid yourself]
"of course you are, you're 12 weeks"
"your body has done it before, so it knows what to do this time"
"really!"

Last time I didn't really feel as though I looked pregnant until I was 20 weeks (though there were certain outfits that made it more obvious). I remember one of my friends had a proper preggie belly at about 16 weeks with her 2nd, so who knows... All I know is that I can no longer wear anything with a waist. So I'm going for comfort - screw what anyone else thinks!

Scan tomorrow. Fingers crossed the news is good.

Thoughts for those less fortunate

We had some friends over for dinner last week. They are expecting their first child in October, and like us, had no trouble falling pregnant. They told us about some of their friends who have not been so fortunate. Maybe it was the hormones, but I was quite upset by their tale.

Their friend, Marilyn, had had lots of trouble carrying a child, and had suffered from a number of miscarriages before finally making it past the first trimester. She was midway through her final trimester, at 32 weeks when she noticed that her baby had stopped moving. She went to the hospital for an ultrasound, only to discover that her baby's heart had stopped beating. I can't even begin to imagine the grief that Marilyn and her partner are suffering. They had to have the baby, name her, put her through an autopsy, and a funeral. I shed a quiet tear for Marilyn and her husband. I wish them long life. My heart goes out to them and to all those families who struggle through the loss of a child, or much wanted baby.

Meantime I say a quiet prayer for the continued good health of our son and the child that grows within.

The nausea has arrived...

Today, about 10am it hit me. The nausea that is. It's not too bad (yet) but I wonder what I was thinking this time yesterday when I was wondering why I was feeling so well - did karma do this to me or was it coming along anyway? Who knows.

I fell asleep at lunchtime today. For about 15 minutes. I was sitting in a comfy lounge chair reading my book when I found I couldn't keep my eyes open - so I shut them. Only to find myself fast asleep - I've really got to limit my sleeping to when i'm on public transport!

Week 6

I've arrived at week 6, and despite my dire predictions, I still feel fine. Completely fine. Not at all pregnant. I wonder if I should be concerned as I know when people are really feeling crook people say that it's a good sign. Is the reverse a bad sign?

Well despite the lack of nausea, I'm still suffering from exhaustion. Most often at about 4pm, when I'm ready to chuck it in and go to bed. Haven't managed it yet - the bed in our sick room is uncomfortably tempting, but I haven't given in yet.

Work this week hasn't been as bad as expected either. I wasn't needed at the Monday night meeting, and I left my Tuesday night meeting at 9pm so I coped OK. I decided to share my news with one of work colleagues. I wasn't sure how she'd take it given she has had some trouble falling pregnant, and we managed it at the drop of a hat. I shouldn't have worried, she seemed genuinely excited for me which was lovely. It also means that I have someone I can complain to about the hours I'm putting in without it seeming unusual and strange. This week is going to be difficult. I'm supposed to be out of the house every single night. I hope Master 2 remembers me at the weekend. Fortunately I still have my mid week day off to share with him so it shouldn't be too bad.

It's funny you know, while I don't feel particularly pregnant I'm very aware of it. I was at my parents place for dinner this week, and my Dad asked me if I wanted a beer. I replied "that's a silly question" and my Mum looked at me strangely and said "why?". I waited a minute to see if she was pulling my leg then said "I'm pregnant". At which point she blinked twice quickly and then said something like "your father is going have to be careful about not putting you in that situation". Bizarre really.

That's it for now. If you're reading this, and you think of something please make a comment. Then I know someone else is reading it...

til next time...

The first couple of weeks...

One week into my journey - well the first week that I really knew I was on this journey - proves difficult.

We decide that our news, while welcome and exciting is probably best kept close to home. One in 3 pregnancies end in miscarriage and we don't want to have too many people in the loop in case things don't work out - we figure that dealing with that possibility requires a few close friends for support but that's about it. We decide to tell my parents, and some of our closest friends as well as another friend who had numerous miscarriages herself so that if things go pear shaped we have a tight support network who can help us through it. My parents were less excited than they were with the news of Master 2 (who was the first grandchild) but they had company when we told them so didn't want to have to answer any questions. I told one friend who was so excited that hubby insisted on telling the next person on speaker phone so he could hear the reaction. He was very pleased with the squeals of delight that emanated from the phone.

Back to reality there's work to do and secrets to keep so gotta keep soldiering on. Fortunately nausea hasn't yet set in (I reckon I've got another 4 days until it hits) so it's just the exhaustion I have to try and hide. Which is difficult when at least 3 of my colleagues know we're thinking of having a 2nd child and one is 32 weeks pregnant and very aware of the symptoms.

So week one I have 2 consecutive days of delivering training that I'd forgotten about (another symptom??). Worse is that i'd previously agreed to speak at an event after work after the first day of training - an event that started at 6pm and didn't finish until 8.45pm. I have no idea how I got through it. But I did.

With this week, week 2, comes the Federal Budget. An announcement on Mothers Day that they are going to be introducing a system of paid parental leave for the first time in Australia. I am so excited because I've been involved in the campaign. I'm a bit disappointed because the date of introduction is so far away that we'll miss out - not that I can tell anyone. At work, my pregnant colleague is sick 4 of 5 days so one less person I have to avoid feeling sleepy around.

Thursday arrives and I'm going to a celebration about the campaign to introduce paid parental leave. I was going to go just with my boss but 2 of my colleagues decide to come at the last minute. I'm very pleased. They (we??) decide to go to the pub first.

The Pub.

I decide the best way to handle this is to pretend nothing's changed. Which isn't easy cause I usually drink beer - and i'm not drinking anything alcoholic now, or for the foreseeable future. So I figure out that if I buy the round i've got more control over facilitating this charade. The others decide what they want, I tell them I'm buying, but the bar is small, and quiet (we're the only ones there). I try and tell the bar tender that I want an OJ in a small glass (the sort they use for mixed drinks), she's not very quiet about asking her colleague how much to charge me for it. I want to scream, "I don't care, charge me full price just shut up about it!". But I don't. The others don't seem to notice. I pretend I have vodka in my drink. We go to the celebration.

Formal proceedings over there is a help yourself bar (wine, beer, juice, soft drink and champagne). I try to surrupticiously help myself to a champagne glass with only a finger of champagne in it (I can pretend to drink). One of my colleagues notices and I said that I didn't want to mix drinks and there wasn't any vodka. Unbelievably she doesn't take it any further. Later on I get a wine glass and drink apple juice out of it. The other colleague notices and calls me on it - I tell her it's apple juice (I didn't want to drink out of a plastic cup) and that mixing the champagne and vodka didn't agree with me. Bah. This is bullshit. I don't want to lie to these people. I just want to not be in these situations. Oh well. Let's hope I can avoid The Pub for a while.

Friday I spend out of the office with one of my team - lots of train travel (alone) = extra sleep time. Could be worse.

I think the next couple of weeks will be challenging. This week I'm due to work both Mon and Tues night, same with next week, and Mon the week after. Not sure I can keep up the facade. We have a function on in 2 weeks to celebrate my boss's 25 years in the organisation. There will be lots of alchohol. Gotta figure out a strategy soon.

My journey began just over 5 weeks ago - but really it was only 3.

In fact, I think it may have been the day after "I fell" that I realised I was pregnant. I was sitting at my desk at work, it was not quite 8am and I was feeling as though I hadn't slept for weeks.

I was truly exhausted.

I also had swollen glans - so I took myself off to the doctor in the local medical centre for a blood test to see if it was all in my imagination. Have you been to a medical centre in the city lately? I haven't - in fact, it had been so long that my medicare card had expired since I was last there. I waited in a queue to be put into the queue to see a doctor. Then I sat in a chair for again what seemed like hours (and in fact was probably over an hour), almost falling asleep, but hoping each time a doctor came along that it was my name s/he would read out.

Finally, a doctor called my name (he even pronounced it correctly - miracle of miracles) - when I sat down he asked me where I was born. I replied "here" (meaning Sydney) and he asked if I meant the suburb that my parents live in. Surprised I said "yes". It turns out that he was a doctor at the practice that my family went to when I was a little girl - which was how he knew how to pronounce my surname! He then mused for a while at the smallness of the world (while I tried to figure out how old that made him - very!) and asked after my mother... then he said "you know, you look like your mother". Fortunately for him I figured out that the last time he'd seen my mum she probably was only about 5 years older than I am now - AND he was far enough away that I couldn't slap him.

So after 2 queues to see the good Doc, it turns out that he doesn't draw the blood himself - I had to take myself to the "treatment room" (and another queue) where I sat for another 1/2 hour waiting to get my blood taken. There was a lovely woman who, like all those before her struggled to find a vein in my right arm. She finally found one in my left arm and I remembered all the needles that come with being pregnant.

I struggled through the next two days before I get the test results. I find myself waiting in the 2nd queue again and wondering whether I'm hoping that the test is positive or negative. While like lots of our friends our first experience with getting pregnant was amazingly simple, lots of those same friends took much longer to conceive their second. Hubby remarked that he hoped this time it might take a bit longer so he could have more "practice". I think though the reality wouldn't be nearly so pleasant. I'd challenge him to talk to the husbands of our friends who, 3 years later, still aren't pregnant and be careful what he wishes for. Doc familiar calls my name and into his office I go - still trying to figure out exactly how old he must be (they all seem old, the docs at the medical centre)... he asks if I told my mother i'd seen him (I hadn't - that would have meant lots of questions)... Then proceeds to go through my bloodwork. I'm holding my breath. You're iron deficient he tells me - that would explain the tiredness. Ok, so I'll take some supplements... get on with it... am I?

And then he says it. Pregnancy test - negative.

My heart sinks - guess I wanted it to be positive.

On the plus side, I could tell my mum about Doc familiar and have a perfectly rational explanation for the visit.

I call hubby and let him know the news. But i'm still exhausted a week later, by now the iron supplements should have started working - and my lower back is really sore. I think it's possible I might be pregnant - so what's with the blood test. I do some research (gotta love google) only to discover that the blood test was far too early and wouldn't have picked up a pregancy at that stage. I wonder why Doc familiar didn't know this or if he did why he didn't tell me it was too early. Is this just him or an indictment of medical centres in general?

It comes time for my monthly "friend" to arrive. No sign - do I pee on a stick? Are you that regular hubby asks? How the bloody hell should I know, i've only been off the pill for 2 months and that's hardly an indication. The instruction booklet says "it's best to use first morning wee" as it's been in your bladder for the longest - so first thing in the morning I pee on a stick (and kinda all over me - does anyone know how to do it without making a mess?). I go and get my son (Master 2) some milk, change his nappy get him up, and walk back into the bathroom to find 2 lines on the test. For those of you unfamiliar - good news! You're up the Duff!