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Jan 3, 2006
What goodness I was granted....
Well, here we are, in a New Year. I'd like to say I hope it's better than last year but honestly - for me, anyways, it doesn't get much better than last year. I finally got pregnant, and got my baby boy.
I am consistently amazed by him, by his strength and determination. The weekend before christmas, we had a family christmas party for my dads side of the family. And Ronan was, well, there is no other word for it, horrendous. It was a long drive there, a full two and a half hour drive, and by the time we got there, he was cranky, out of sorts, and just bloody irritated. We stayed for maybe 3-4 hours and he screamed and yelled his head off for most of it. By the time we got home we were wrung out and exhausted and our hearts were aching for the poor wee bairn, and because of this we were absolutely terrified of the two and a half hour treck on christmas day up to M's parents place. We planned to stay for two, perhaps three days, but we wondered if he would be upset for all of this time. He shocked us both by being a perfect angel. I've never handled an *easier* baby than the baby he was while we were up there. Of course as soon as we returned home, he returned to his usual cranky-as-a-default-setting state, leaving us with the theory that he just really likes country air. Which would make all three of us really. Pity moving back to the country isn't plausible at this point in time.
We are getting more smiles these days, he is still not a *smiley* baby by any means, but we get them more often than we used to - we can now pretty much count on a smile at every feed, as he loves to smile at his food. Can't say I blame him though as I am rather fond of food myself. He is not rolling, though he is trying very hard to do so - however I don't think he will get it anytime soon without tummy time, as he HATES tummy time with a vengeance and screams the house down. He can hold his head up very well of his own accord, and is doing everything within his power to be able to sit up on his own. He is also now over 11 pounds. He has come such a long way from the tiny wee thing he was when born. His spindly legs and arms we were terrified of breaking are now gone, replaced with robust limbs with muscle definition no less. His tiny shivering chest through which we could see his ribs has now been replaced by a chest of the broad barrel variety, to match his shoulders. He has become that which he is now nicknamed - a bruiser. His strength matches with mine frequently and finds me losing and covered in bruises, from where he has pinched me while we were playing and/or he was feeding. He's growing in leaps and bounds and I can't believe the change in him from one day to the next.
It says alot about my state of mind though, that when the new year rang in, I turned to M and asked him if we could have another baby next year. I love my boy so much that I want to have many more babies, as crazy as that sounds. I will do my very best to wait until he is one, but he is so delightful, it makes me want more straightaway. Greedy, greedy thing that I am.
11 weeks 4 days old
Posted at 08:30 am by bitchywitch
Permalink
Dec 2, 2005
Milestones:
*Three weeks ago, at 4 weeks old, Ronan gave us his first smile - as in a real one, not just *oh I farted and damn does that feel better*. He smiled at the sensation of rolling his tongue around the teat of his bottle. It's something he does very often still, toward the end of the feed, when he has taken enough, he will play with it in his mouth, rolling and flicking his tongue as he goes. Since then, the smiles have been few and far between in my opinion - they don't happen near as often as I would like, but then perhaps he is just destined to be a ~serious~ kid.
*Of course, perhaps he would be a lot more smiley if he wasn't so tired all the time. I've tried everything, but this kid simply will not sleep during the day. Occasionally I can get him to grab an hour or two nap of an afternoon, but generally, thats the best I can hope for. He sleeps like a gem during the night, no problems at all, but this ~I won't sleep while the sun is up~ thing he must have gotten from M, cause it sure as shit aint from me. I am a FAN of the siesta.
*Slowly we are starting to get more sounds out of him other than just crying - he is starting to squeak and skwawk now - not quite at the stage where he will gurgle away chatting to himself, but he is getting there
*New tricks learned only the other day - he now rolls on his own onto his left side and back again. He has also worked out that if his little yellow touch activated musical sun thing stops playing music, he can kick it or punch it and it will start again. I'm thinking there's going to have to be a pile of betteries on hand for it soon.
Lessons Learned:
*While it may be very hot, sleeping in the nude, then feeding him in the nude is a bad idea, because that will be the time he projectile vomits warm milk and spit all over your naked flesh. And It's really gross.
*When he is cranky and nothing is working, nappy free time usually does the trick. Doesn't do much for the couch though. Not to self - get large supply of cheap crappy towels.
And The Usual Stuff -
I'd like to know, which moron put it into my head that doing my family's christmas at my house, with a newborn, when we then have to drive two and a half hours to the in laws place - was a good idea. We are having brunch here, because neither me, nor anyone else can be bothered doing the big traditional christmas lunch thing this year, and because I do have a certain weakness for scrambled eggs and pancakes, or basically anything breakfasty. I have a feeling this will all come down around my ears like a house of cards, but it's too late to do anything but ride the wave now.
Also, I'm wondering where people get this idea from, that now that I have a child, the years of trying and heartache are forgotten. Yes, I adore him, yes, it was all worth it in the end, but no - I haven't forgotten what it was like. My family is shocking for this. They are also shocking in the fact that my boy is 7 weeks old today, and they are all convinced that pregnancy and having a child will and or has made my body magically fertile and they are anticipating an accident / surprise soon. I have thus far refrained from informing them that for such a thing to happen, we would actually have to have sex, but I wouldn't see what difference that would make anyways. Their assumption that pregnancy has magically cured any fertility issues we had pretty much tells me that any information on basic biology would be wasted on them.
I should be back before then with another update, but in case I am not - Merry Chrsitmas and a happy new year to you all!
Posted at 08:52 am by bitchywitch
Permalink
Nov 14, 2005
Birth Story... and other stuff
Ok... so on Thursday the 13th of October, M and I headed in to the hospital for the baby to be induced. I was admitted at 3pm, and one of the Dr's came around to administer the gels. He did a brief ultrasound on the babe, made a comment about it being very high, and administered the gels. I was advised that it was unlikely there would be any action that night, and nothing would probably happen until they broke my waters next morning. They were right. M and basically just went a wandering around the hospital and watched a bit of TV until he had to go home at 10pm, and I tried to get some sleep. Impossible. Spent most of my night wandering the corridors, poking at vending machines and seeing which doors were unlocked. ~L~
The next morning, M returned to the hospital bright and early, and we were transferred to the delivery suite, where we set up, asked if I was allowed to eat some breakfast, and listened to Jay and the Dr on JJJ while we waited for the Dr to show up to break my waters. At around 8.30 the Dr shows up, and attempts to do just that. She fails. There is much talk between her and the midwives about what to do, wether to keep administering gels, keep me in over the weekend and try again to break the waters on Monday. At this point, I begin to freak out a little. I'm having flashbacks to when I was induced with Brannwen and it took three days because of a screw up in the induction meds, and I am thinking the same thing will happen. As a last ditch effort, they decide to go get another Dr to see if this other Dr has any luck breaking my waters, as she has more experience. At 9am on the dot, less than 5 minutes after the second Dr entered the room, my waters are broken. The syntocin drip is set up, and we are ready to rock and roll. My relief is immense, despite the realisation at that point, that given the fetal monitor, syntocin drip, and glucose drip *just in case*, I am effectively tethered to the bed, and my desire to be able to move around, and more specifically in and out of the shower, is simply not going to happen.
I start having contractions.. just little ones. Intense, but no worries really. Fiona, my midwife, comes in for some chit chat here and there, to see how we are going, and to take blood sugar levels. Everything is going along nicely, with me listening to some tunes on the radio, M reading the paper and occasionally reading bits out, and the drip set to 60. We are coasting nicely. At around 11 am, Fiona comes in to see how we are doing, and turns the drip up to 80. This increases the frequency and intensity but nothing too stressful to begin with. By 11.30, I am having some difficulty with this, and I quote, 'Being on the bed shit', so enlist Fiona and M to help me move to a chair next to the bed which I promptly sit in backwards, leaning forward onto it's back rest. Fiona decides to stay and have her hand on my belly to monitor contractions, as the fetal monitor is slipping all over the place, and it is not registering my contractions even though they are most definitely there. At 12 I decide a little gas is in order - partly because it hurts, but partly because, well it's there, and dammit I love the stuff and would be mighty pissed off if I didnt get the chance to use it. No worries, Fiona sets it up for me, gives me the mask, and while I'm here, what the hey, we might as well increase the drip to 120.
And that's when we hit a 9 on my pain scale.
Between 12pm and 1pm the intensity was upped alot, I was feeling dizzy, out of control and totally fucked up. I could feel my whole body shaking uncontrollably even though I wasn't cold, and if anyone even considered taking that gas mask away from me they were going to die. In hindsight, we know now my BSL's were dangerously low at that point, which explains alot. This is also the first point where the baby's heart rate started to drop a little with every contraction. Fiona asked me if I wanted an epidural and we decided to check dilation first, because I was warned it was likely too late - contractions were about 90 seconds long and right on top of one another. The Dr came in to check me and told me I was 3cm dilated. I can't quite remember what I said at that point, but I think it included alot of F's.
The anaesthesiest was called, and en epidural set up. It took 3 goes, and well over 45 minutes to get it in. It hurt like fucking hell - I can honestly say in my case, the epidural hurt more than the birth, but again in hindsight, can see that with the sort of scar tissue I have in my back, that was always going to be the case. Finally, by 2.30, it was in and I had some relief. For an hour.
By 3.30, the pain was off the charts again, the epidural was doing nothing, I could feel every damn thing, it simply wasnt working. I was feeling very pissed off at that point that the epidural had actually worked for roughly the same amount of time as it took to get it in. A Dr was called to see if they could get it working again, and when he arrives at 3.45 ( I am a clock watcher, can you tell? ~L~) he states there is very little point in fixing the epi, as I am fully dilated. All systems go.
From that point on is a blur really. I remember that I didn't feel the pain as much, because all of a sudden it felt like pushing gave me some relief from the pain. I remember throwing up at one point and being so relieved that that food was out of me. However, finding out I was fully dilated, was also the same time they discovered my blood sugar levels were dangeroulsy low and started the glucose drip - so perhaps that accounts also for feeling more in control and aware all of a sudden. By this point, the baby's heart rate was dropping quite a bit with each contraction, and we were all starting to get worried about it, so the fact that he would be out soon was a great relief. At any rate, the midwives told me at one point they could see hair. I was shocked at that, as I had assumed my baby, like most my neices and nephews, would be a baldy baby. A couple of seconds later, they told me to stop pushing. Which I did. A couple of seconds after that they told me again to stop pushing, to which I replied that I wasn't. It was about to be all over, red rover - Ronan had decided to make his entrance with or without my help. Like being shot out of a cannon, he made his entrance into the world at precisely 4.30 on the dot.
As he was born, there was total silence from all the medical staff in the room. Someone said, * that diabetes must of been well controlled.. he's tiny*.. at that point I realised there was no crying to be heard and began to freak out. They showed him to me for all of three seconds, his tiny body and face completely blue, and a big dark pair of eyes looking up at me, before they whisked him away. It was under a minute, but it seems like ages before I heard the tiniest of little cries, and they told me they were taking him to the special care nursery, but would bring him back. They also told me the umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck, which explained why his heart rate kept dropping. M went with him to the nursery, and I lay there, wondering what the fuck just happenned, and wondering how *tiny* he really was.
5 lbs 9 oz was the answer. I was stitched up, (2nd degree tear), and he was brought back from the nursery for a feed, then returned into their care. M and I had something to eat, I had a shower, and we went down to the SCN to have a look at our boy, and make sure he was okay. The whole experience seems kinda blissful now, looking back on it, compared to how hard the next few days turned out to be. All in all, birth was a breeze, compared to seeing him with a drip in his tiny leg, having his blood sugar levels taken every couple of hours, expressing constantly to get enough to feed him, and not knowing what was going on with him. There was one night where a nurse told me I wasn't allowed to touch him. I still don't know why she said that. All I know is, some of the midwives were great. And some needed to be condemned to the bowels of the earth from whence they came. The best advice I received was from my SIL's mum when she said "Stuff 'em. Do what works for you". So we did. Once he was out of SCN and keeping his own blood sugar levels stable, we discharged ourselves, and went home. We haven't looked back since. In the end, it was all worth it, all of those four years of pain, everytime he farts and smiles about it. My boy is four weeks old now, and while it seems I had him only yesterday, life without him seems like it was eons ago.
And now... to the list of things I have learned through childbirth and the first four weeks of parenting.
*It is possible to vomit out your nose, and it is indeed entirely normal. (I had no idea of this phenomenon previously, obviously, as my husband pointed out, I have not drank enough. Hard to believe.)
*New scientific theory - the grosser the liquid - ie - poo, the further it can travel. Up backs, down legs, up arms, and indeed, halfway across a room at high velocity.
*Formula is NOT cyanide, though some people will tell you it is pretty much the equivalent of.
*Much like a 12 year old boy, I find anything related to farts and poo, hysterically funny.
*Your nipples CAN develop cracks so deep, the tips of them can almost seem near to sheared off.
*That said, when you have cracked, grazed, bleeding and sore nipples - going out in the cold night air can bring a whole new world of pain you never dreamed possible.
*Still on boobs - going for 8 hours without expressing breastmilk or feeding on the same night that your milk comes in properly, again opens a whole new world of pain, and looking at yourself in the mirror crying because not only do you now look like a porn star and in agony - you look like a B GRADE porn star.
*Having your bed less than three feet from the wall is a bad idea, because at one point you will get out of bed, so tired, you will slam into it headfirst.
*Screaming at an anaesthesiest that the pain you feel is "a small scratch my fucking arse!" while they are trying to administer an epidural does not partiuclarly endear you to them.
and lastly, a quick plug... The best thing, top of my list, that I have bought for the babe is a sling / wrap. When all else fails with the screaming and the reflux and the wind, this thing works. I bought mine from a lady in Melbourne who makes them - similar in style to another well known brand I won't mention, but way better because of the stretchier fabric and a much better three piece design which is way easier to get on and maneuvre about with. I feel the need to plug her product because it can be difficult to find in stores, and it is like I said, the best thing I bought. If you want one, or want to have a look go to www.elliebelly.com.au
Peace, out, back soon.
Posted at 02:33 pm by bitchywitch
Permalink
Oct 27, 2005
MY WORLD
My world is now oh so small
5 pounds and 9 ounces to be exact
My world has soft dark blonde hair with a touch of ginger
and the same dark hazel eyes as his father
My world makes funny squeaking noises
as if he needs to be oiled
My world took so long to get here,
so much pain, so many tears
but even when he cries
my world was worth every last minute, every hardship
every injection and every argument
My world is now oh so small
and his name is Ronan.
So yes - Ronan was born on the Friday the 14th of October, weighing in at a mere 5 pounds and 9 ounces - yes because according to the diabetic specialist I needed to be induced early 'cause my baby was *so big*. (Insert big long pffft and rant about inept fuckers and their assumptions ____ here)
Birth story, and other updates when I have five minutes to scratch myself in between trying not to let the house run to roach stage and looking into the bassinette for hours on end.
Posted at 11:22 am by bitchywitch
Permalink
Oct 13, 2005
Well! This will be my last post for a bit, so I'll keep it short, sweet and to the friggin point this time, which, granted, is not exactly something I am known for.
Leaving home in a few hours to head into hospital and have first lot of induction gels applied. Will no longer be pregnant either today or tomorrow. Oddly, not freaked out, feeling kinda blase about the whole thing, and wondering if that is just denial. Not really caring if it is. Can't seem to wrap my head around any of it, and it's probably just as well.
See you on the sunnyside.
39 weeks
Posted at 12:00 pm by bitchywitch
Permalink
Oct 4, 2005
On your marks... get set....
May I just say how good the nesting intinct is, and how very clean my house is because of it? Sparkling I tells you, absolutely spotless. I am very proud of myself.
Given that I'm sure no one, least of all me, needs a total rundown of the entirety of the cleaning I have done, I'll just say nothing else of note has really gone on. Well, it has, but none of it is anything I really want to write about, or look back on with any sort of fondness at all. So I'm going to gloss over the endless drama, and suffice to say we now have a new switchboard in the house fusebox, the landlords were happy with the state of the house at inspection, but not the rent we owe situation, but that is fixed now, and I am moving on to bigger and better things, mentally at least.
We are definitely at the business end of things now with this babe. I have an induction date booked for the 14th of October, obviously due to the GD and babe's size being somewhat worrisome. So we have ten days to convince it to choose it's own date, or be content with the one given. I'm definitely feeling it now, the weight of the babe is placing weight on my back which is responding with agonising pain, making it difficult to sleep / move / walk whatever. I can deal with it, I've dealt with far worse pain from this back of mine, but lets just say there are no long car trips in order nor any aerobic sessions planned.
As at Monday's weigh in at the hospital, I currently weigh 90.2 kg which means I have put on a grand total of 8 kilo's this pregnancy. Not bad given how huge I am, but when I turn around and look back at myself in the mirror I can see all of that weight is baby. I can definitely see I have lost weight everywhere else, and I am hoping to keep that trend up after babe is born through walking and excercise. If nothing else the pain in my back has reminded me what it was really like to be this big before, and just living with the constant pain in my back and hips, and it's not something I am willing to just live with again, for any reason other than pregnancy.
I'm absolutely busting a gut to have this baby now though. Quite often I am being asked *oh, are you over it yet, do you just want it out now* and the answer to that is yes - and no. Yes I would like the baby out, but no, it is not because I am *over* the pregnancy. I want this baby out now because I am absolutely desperate to hear it's first cry, to see what colour eyes it has, to know how much it weighs, and to know with my own eyes that it is is fine and healthy. In short, I am just so damned excited to finally meet this child, that hell yes, I want it to shuffle along! But no.. I am not over the pregnancy in any way, shape or form. It's not too bad all in all, and I realise how long it took me to get here, and I am still in awe that my body (the one that never does as it's told) is doing such a marvellous job.
Anyways - that's it from me right now. The bags are packed and waiting, and so it seems, am I.
37 weeks and 5 days
Posted at 01:51 pm by bitchywitch
Permalink
Sep 12, 2005
Urgh. That's all I can say at the moment - urgh. Major whine / bitch ahead.
1. To the low life scum who broke into my house while we were out all day, wrecking the doorknob and lock in the process and leaving me trapped at home for two days unable to leave because the door was not lockable until the locksmith came - Thanks so very much for stealing my digital camera. I worked in that crappy real estate agency for months so I could afford my little $350 digital camera. I know it isn't top of the line, but I had wanted one for so long, and I saved so hard, and I was so relieved to have a digital camera of my own so I could take pregnancy pictures, and have pictures of my baby. Now I have none of that, and all of that hard work was for NOTHING, because you decided to break into house where you don't live, and take something that is not yours, that you did not work for, probably so you can sell it for a quick buck. You total prick.
2. To the stupid obstetrician whom I hate, I have a few bones to pick with you.
*It is not acceptable to scare the life out of someone by telling them all the things that can go wrong with their pregnancy or baby because they have gestational diabetes, and then refuse to do the proper welfare checks on the baby's health, and refuse to share any information with the mother. Checking the baby's heartbeat, position and size are all welfare checks that should be carried out. Getting your medical student to poke the mother in the side and go "yeah that feels about right" IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
*If you feel the need to write something like 'not likely to make it past 38 weeks without being induced' on someones chart, it might be a good idea to tell the person about it, generally before a midwife mentions it in passing. When questioned on it, don't act vague like you don't know whats going on, then say "oh you might make it to 40 weeks, I don't know". You are a doctor. It is your job to know what you are on about, and to explain your actions and thoughts to me is not asking too much.
*After last weeks appointment, where you refused to have a proper feel of the baby until I specifically asked you to, and I asked you what position the baby was in and you said "oh lying sideways" - I was kinda clued in to the fact that you don't know your arse from a hole in the ground. I knew, THEN, that you didn't know what you were doing, because while I didn't know the exact position it was in, I knew it couldn't be lying sideways given where I felt it's movements. This was confirmed the NEXT DAY via ultrasound when the sonographer told me the baby was head down. TODAY you looked at that report, said "that can't be right", felt my belly and exclaimed in surprise "oh it is head down! Well there you go". You are a fucking moron.
*And finally after all the above, when the diabetic educator looked over my blood sugar levels today and said she felt I would be better off taking my insulin in the evening rather than the morning, why was I surprised when you went against her reccomendations and told me to continue taking it of a morning, but also to up my insulin. I don't know all THAT much about blood sugar levels, but your reccomendations have never made the slightest bit of sense to me, with my limited knowledge, and they obviously don't make a great deal of sense to the diabetic educator either, with her vast amount of knowledge. I do know one thing though - telling me that if I "ate less and cut back on food, you probably wouldn't need insulin at all, and you wouldn't gain so much weight which will be hard to lose afterwards" - did not go down well. That was in no way, sensible advice for a woman who is diabetic, and who has a normal sized baby within, and has actually lost weight during her pregnancy. I am still deciding which pair of boots I should wear before my next appointment with you, during which I will undoubtedly snap, and shove one of them halfway up your arse.
So yes. Life is err.. fun. Ultrasound showed spidermonkey is head down in optimal position, and also that it is average for everything - weight, length, head size the lot. Average average average. Comforting to know given the amount of times this doctor (and I do use that term loosely) has told me my child will be massive. Movements are strong and very low down now, which is good, and as mentioned above, I am now on insulin. (which blows goats, in case anyone wanted to know) I am obviously unsure as to when I am likely to pop this one out, given the seesawing between the 38 week induction vs 40 week induction comments, but just the same, I am of the opinion that the babe will shuffle it's own way along on the side of early. M and I are betting sometime between 36 and 38 weeks. I'm heartbroken over the loss of my camera, pissed off at the price of petrol (who isn't?) and other than that - kinda bored. There's nothing doing round here in all honesty, and it's getting tedious.
~Goes back to twiddling thumbs mindlessly~
34 Weeks and 4 Days
Posted at 12:22 pm by bitchywitch
Permalink
Aug 12, 2005
So yes, my glucose tolerance test results came in and ta-da! I am a gestational diabetic. I will find out what, precisely, to do about this on Monday when I have an appointment with a diabetic specialist and nutritionist. I am thinking thus far, there will be diet control and not much else - which is fine with me, as it was not unexpected. Quite frankly, I would of been shocked if I had scraped through without it.
Meantime, I have endured two weeks of agony, which is ongoing. Hint for anyone who doesn't know me very well - I have a very high pain threshold. I can take pain that would make others crumble, without so much as a whimper. Needles into the spine? Been there done that, been back for more. Migraines? Puh-leese. I also have very little fear of medical professionals and fixerupperers in general. I don't enjoy going to the doctor, for sure, but that has more to do with the fact that I always manage to choose assholes. There is however, one large and glaring exception to both of these rules. Dentists and dental pain. I have a morbid and pathological fear of dentists, and I cannot handle dental pain AT ALL. So for two weeks now I have sufferred, loudly, with intermittent tooth pain that slowly grew stronger and stronger, until it was no longer possible for me to tell even myself that a dentists trip was not required. I booked in. Dosed up on gas, I cried, I screamed, and I whimpered, while they extracted not one, but two rear teeth. The pain will be over soon, I told myself. I will feel better after this and life can go back to normal, I told myself. M held my hand all the way through, and repeated these things to me - you'll feel better once they are out and the abcess is fixed he said.
We were both horribly wrong.
Apparently, dry socket, is a condition that only occurs in about 5% of cases after a tooth extraction. We all know how much I love to beat the odds though eh? And I am here to tell you - Dry socket is, without a single doubt, the most unbelievably painful thing I have ever experienced in my entire life. And nothing touches the pain. Not antibiotics, not painkillers, not moaning, not rubbing, not anything. So, two days after the extraction, after many fantasies of throwing myself under a bus, to the dentist I returned to have the dry socket fixed. Five minutes, no worries they said. Fix it straight away they said. What they neglected to mention was this - dry socket is actually caused by the failure of the gum to close over the extraction site, or the dislodgement of the blood clot that normally forms there, exposing the jaw bone which is raw from having a tooth pulled out of it. The bone is exposed to air, food, drink and whatever else you suck in through your mouth and so is very very sensitive. The only way in which they can fix it, is indeed, five minutes work - which involves scraping and sucking out any infection in the gum cavity, with the use of air, water, and a hook. They then re pack the extraction site with something that smells like cloves, and looks exactly like wet chewing tobacco. All that, with no anasthetic.
So that happenned yesterday, and today it looks like I will have to go back and have the procedure repeated because I am still in more pain than I, by rights, should be. Cheers. Thrilled about that. I just want the pain to end, because I have had enough of being in agony all the time. I'd like to go back to normal now, thankyou very much. I've been in agony now for two weeks, non stop, first with broken teeth and an abcess the size of a walnut underneath them, then with having said teeth removed, leaving me with a gaping bleeding hole in my mouth, followed by some bizzarre condition which leaves bone exposed for gods sake. I feel like I have been to hell and back AND I've paid about 400 bucks for the priveledge. Can I just say at this point, WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THAT?
Also, in other news, spidermonkey must now be growing out rather than up - judging by the rib pain I have woken up with twice now, there is no further room for it to go up, and it now must go out, apparently taking my rib bones with it. I am watching all the changes going on in my body with interest, and it seems to be one big adventure to me, truly it does. I like to read up on things, not so I can be prepared per se, but because I find it all so interesting. But I can't say I saw that rib pain coming. I knew rib pain could happen, but for some reason I didn't see any cause for it until about 36 weeks. But, I was wrong. After an hour of ouchies this morning, it seems to have moved a little further down again and relieved the pressure somewhat which is a good'un. I'm pretty sure there will soon be nowhere else to go though, but thats ok. It's all part of growing :) I am thoroughly amazed to find myself at 30 weeks. Eeeek!
And on that note, I shall be off to forage for food, or basically anything that can be sucked through a straw.
30 weeks and 1 day
Posted at 08:05 am by bitchywitch
Permalink
Aug 1, 2005
It is 6.53 am and I am wiiiide awake. I have had the in laws here all weekend. And today is Monday. So, basically, it should be a crap, I'm exhuasted and cranky as all hell sorta post - but it isn't. Today is an awesome day, ecspecially for a Monday, but it would still be awesome if it were a Friday :)
Last night, I finally cemented my solution to the M's - snoring - keeps - me - awake - and - I - get - no - sleep problem. The final trial run confirmed, I do sleep like a log if I go to bed much earlier than him. I have had a full and deep nights sleep (with only one measly pee break!). I have awoken refreshed, to find my tax return with which I will be buying a mountain of baby things, has been processed into my account, so I have a full day if not week of shopping ahead of me, not to mention the stress relief of having my list of things to buy and do severely shortened. And I also trotted round to the bakery this morning after dropping M at the train and bought a small loaf of raisin bread - fresh baked and still steaming in it's bag. I tell you - this mornings was the best damn toast I've ever had in my whole entire life. It all ads up for a corker of a Monday so far, and I haven't even been up for an hour.
Last week saw me off at the pathology department for the dreaded 2 hour glucose tolerance test. It was, as predicted, entirely evil, and I will be getting the results on Friday at my next obstetrician appointment. I am still of two minds as to wether or not I think I have gestational diabetes, but one thing is for sure - with my current insatiable craving for all things bakery, if I do, it's going to be a long three months ahead.
Young Kung Fu (as it is now called) is kicking up a storm day and night as per usual, and the kicks are so much stronger now that they take my breath away on a daily basis - movements are now very visible particularly if I am kicking back on the couch or in the bath, which I have to say is entirely amazing and highly amusing at the same time. The only down points at the moment would have to be the fact that I am always starving, yet almost too scared to eat because of the riotous heartburn that follows, and the fact that what was a numb sorta feeling in my right leg from sciatica has now turned into a burning sorta feeling which is actually quite painful. Other than that - it's all good and I am enjoying myself immensely.
I'm still having enormous difficulty picturing anything beyond birth however - when I say this I do not mean I can't get past the fear of birth, not at all, on the contrary I've never been less terrified of anything before. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I just simply can't see myself holding a healthy take - home baby. I can't look that far ahead, so I am consuming myself with making lists instead. Now in the third trimester, I do really feel like things are getting down to the business end, and I am definitely feeling the drive to have things ready, prepared, to be organised. My body, however, is not all that cooperative and I'm getting very little done before I conk out. The business of life certainly doesn't help in that regard - I seem to be flat out all the time, yet unsure at the end of the day of precisely what it is I have done. It's all rather confusing.
So at any rate, thats my way of an update, will be back with more after Friday's appointment.
28 weeks 4 days
Posted at 07:45 am by bitchywitch
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Jun 27, 2005
First, a short run down on why I haven't updated in a while.
* I was working part time at a real estate agency, one where my sister works. It was suppossed to be every second Saturday and Thursday afternoons, but ended up being more than that through filling in for other people. It was good, if not tiring, and somewhat irritating, but the spare cash was excellent. That all went balls up a couple of weeks ago, when I was *no longer needed*. There were fights all round between other staff, and the end result is now that the office is closing.
* All the above given, plus other news, means my sister is now moving to Townsville soon. I've been giving her what help I can - which, has been woefully little, and I feel bad about it.
* We (well, I) have been delivering and picking up catalogues for a while, putting in orders and the like. It was decided to give it bash and see how it went, after we were told it was not even ten hours work a week, you put 200 catalogues out, you pick up 200 catalogues, you get 20% of the orders. Sweet. As it turned out, for me anyways, it was more like 15 - 20 hours a week, when you count dropping off catalogues, going back to pick them up, finding out half of them weren't left out, leaving notes saying you would be back next day, going back next day, collating the orders, filling out the order forms, keeping track of what orders you had, what came in, what didn't, delivering orders, taking money, working out money and your cut etc etc etc. Not to mention the walking (of which we are talking 2-3 hours a day) really aggravated the sciatica I have been experiencing, and you get one very tired, very annoyed and very sore pregnant woman. We put in our last order on Saturday and won't be doing it anymore.
So yes. Thats why I haven't had time to update, but things should be better now. I'll miss the spare cash I received from both the catalogues and the real estate agency, and I will miss it sorely, but neither worked out, and that, I suppose, is just life. And now for some random observations by way of update.
* I am not a touchy feely person. I don't like being hugged or kissed by just anyone. I don't even like people standing close to me. I am essentially, an aloof person when face to face, unless I know the person to whom I am speaking partiuclarly well. For a time there, I really felt as if I was *missing out* on something with my inability to be affectionate towards people who weren't very close to me, and I tried, sincerely, very hard, to be the huggy kissy type. That failed, so then I tried to at least be *receptive* to the huggy kissy thing. That didn't work either. So now, I have come to the conclusion that it is just who I am. I enjoy hugs and kisses from M of course, and give him hugs and kisses all the time. But even my closest friends I will not initiate a hug with. I will take one, if offerred, with a minimum of fuss, but never intiate it. I am the same with my family, with the exception of my neices and nephews. I hug them and slobber on them all the time, but other than that, it's just M really. I have theories as to why I'm like that, but the fact remains that my affection seems to be solely reserved for M and kids. And thats it. So you can imagine precisely how well I am coping with this constant need complete strangers at the supermarket or servo, or whatever, feel - to touch my belly. I now can recognise the glint in someones eye that means they are going to reach out and give me a buddha like rub, and I have perfected the art of being able to get my hands in between theirs and my belly faster than they eye can blink. I don't mind overly much when someone I know does it - family, friends or whatever - but I do kinda pity in some ways, the complete stranger at the service station, who put his hands on my belly even after I moved them away, who then got a very loud burst of "Hey fella! *personal space* is more than just an IDEA when it comes to me and my baby OK?"
* May I just say, for winter, the weather here has been awesome the last few days? Sure, it has barely gotten over 16, but there has been minimum wind, and plenty of sun, and well - it's just been gorgeous.
* Spidermonkey is one active little child. The kicks are huge, and the rolls and flips are massive too. I have reached a stage now where I can see my belly jump when it kicks, and I have to say I am enjoying every last minute of it. Even the midnight to three am routine martial arts practise sessions. It seems to have learned there is a fun new place to kick or jump in there, which causes an instantaneous reaction from mum, because it feels like she has just been stabbed in the genitals, and she is likely to lose complete body functions from the crotch down. And I have learned recently that it is a bad idea to stand between me and biscuits / creambuns / cakes / dessert of any kind. This is obviously not my own doing but rather spidermonkeys, because generally, as a rule, I don't go in for sweet things. I much prefer bitter or savoury. These days though, dessert is the major portion of any meal, and it's always good to keep a bottle of sparkling apple juice and a Europe Sesame Bar on hand - those things are the absolute BOMB at the moment.
* Despite the above reference to desserts, I'm now going to sicken everyone by saying that I haven't really put on weight. Spidermonkey has, is the right size for dates, is growing well, and my belly is certainly getting to be out there, but I have lost weight everywhere else, and am now resembling as someone said the other day *a beach ball on sticks* on comparison to my former self. Of course, this weight loss everywhere else could be due to all the walking I was doing with the catalogues, so perhaps I can expect to get more bovine like from here on in.
And thats it really. All is good in our land, I am feeling well, particularly on the nights that I manage to get a decent sleep (like last night - no stressing about havign to get up and go out to pick up catalogues - yay!), M is well, and spidermonkey is well also. I am very spun out by the fact that I am now over halfway through the pregnancy. If the babe was born now (god forbid) it would have a chance of survival. A small chance yes, but more of a chance than it's big sister had. There really is a little person in there, who's personality is coming through more every day. I feel so blessed.
23 weeks & 4 days
Posted at 02:10 pm by bitchywitch
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