Reality

So these past few weeks have mostly been filled with niceness, good pregnancy hormones, yoga, meditation, healthy eating, all that good stuff. I guess it's only fair that now that we're at the end, a little bit of negativity has had the chance to sneak in.

I am now just four days overdue, but we're having some issues. I have low platelets, which are the thingys that cause your blood to clot. Mine have dropped from 174 in November, to 119 in January, to 104 last week...to 99 at yesterday's count. The normal range for platelets is 150-450, so I am pretty far below normal right now (this statement could also relate to the state of my emotional stability). I had an appointment at the Invercargill Hospital yesterday and the obstetrician there wanted to induce labour immediately based on the platelets and also a slight rise in blood pressure, which I am pretty sure happened the moment I walked into the hospital.

We were pretty shocked by the idea of inducing right there and then and asked if waiting until Monday would be okay. This was after he threw out a few choice words, like "risk to your health and baby's" and "chance of fetal distress", etc etc. He threw a minor tantrum, then agreed that Monday would be okay if I kept an eye on my health and watched out for headaches and visual disturbances that could mean that I was about to get pre-eclampsia (this risk due to the increase in blood pressure).

So, we're having a baby on Monday. In the meantime, we're trying everything in the books to get things going before then, but to be honest, it is starting to feel a bit exhausting. If it wasn't for the platelets issue, I would be happy to just let nature run its course and wait to the baby and my body to be ready for this birth, but the professionals say there is risk, and I should trust them.

I have two days to:

A.) Induce labour naturally/ relax and hope it happens

and

B.) Get myself into a mind-state where the idea of induction doesn't freak me out quite so much. Everyone keeps saying once the birth is over, it's just a tiny window of time in the far-reaching spectrum of parenthood, but right now I am finding it difficult to see past that window, to the place where the baby lies in my arms.

I am trying though.

So, I'm going to be a mother in two days! That is amazing, right? Right? Okay.

Next post, expect possible gory birth story and probably a lot of soppy baby lovey stuff. Goo goo gaga.

Tomorrow, tomorrow

Dear Baby,

Maths says you are supposed to arrive tomorrow, but since you haven't learned maths yet, I'm pretty sure you are still a few days away. You seem pretty comfy in there, apart from when you stretch your feet out under my ribs and squirm. I guess it's pretty squashy.

You will be pleased to find, I think, that there is plenty of room out here to stretch. Vast amounts actually, especially for a small person. However, I don't want to freak you out, I will stay close. You don't have to go anywhere without me until you want to. In fact, it won't really be that different out here except maybe the sounds will be a little clearer. There will be plenty of comfort and warmth and good smells and tastes.

I thought you were coming on Saturday night, when all those practice contractions were squishing us. You seemed to have a lot to say that evening, lots of rolling around. Were you thinking about it? It's okay if you chickened out. Soon though, yeah?

I have started to receive lots of messages from people waiting to hear about you. You don't know any of them yet, but you're already famous. I keep seeing things I know you'll be interested in, like ducks and flowers and bugs. I'll tell you about those later. There really is a lot to see and do.

In the meantime, gather your strength Baby. That's what I'm doing. There'll be just a little hurdle, then we can play.

Love Mama

Pregnant chicks

When you think pregnant chicks, what do you see? A pair of puffy ankles holding up a slightly off-balance (physically and emotionally) woman ticking off a strange to-do list of potentially unnecessary household chores and cooking tasks, in between snacking and napping?

This week, I have become that woman.

Exhibit A: On Monday I filled two large jars, one with homemade muesli, one with stewed apples. I have never made either of these before, but now we have at least two months' worth of both.

Ex. B: Yesterday I took two naps, one at about midday, one at 4pm, each lasting around 45 minutes. When my husband got home from work at 5.30, I felt so exhausted that I actually burst into tears while eating dinner.

Ex. C: I cleaned the fridge.

Ex. D: Each night I have been making double of everything and then labeling the leftovers and freezing it. I know this is sensible as there won't be much time to cook after baby gets here, but I don't think I have ever frozen a meal before in my life.

Ex. E: Yesterday I went to the post office to try to send my manuscript away. The process of obtaining the right stamps and envelopes proved to be overwhelming. I came home with an envelope that the m/s won't fit in and not enough stamps to send it. I was also supposed to send my sister her birthday present, which always comes with a Pinky bar (she lives in the USA and Pinkys are her favourite). I ate the Pinky the night before, remembered that I had forgotten to replace it as I got to the counter. No Pinky for sister. Sorry sister.

Ex. F: I've been wearing jandals pretty much all summer, but yesterday I went to put on my favourite sneakers, the same ones I wore for pretty much the whole time we lived in Canada. They don't fit.

Talk about cliched behavior. After last night's outburst, I have decided to try to do absolutely nothing today and see if that makes me feel a bit more sane. I'll keep you posted.

Ready!

Just in case you thought we weren't before, now we are really getting serious. There is a week until our due date and the baby now has places in our house where only he can sit and sleep and lie. Perhaps a lot of soon-to-be parents would have sorted these things out sooner and already experienced these moments of realisation - that there is really going to be a baby in this house soon - but anyway, here we are. Better just-in-time than never.

There is a car seat in the car, securely fastened in by the kind lady at Plunket Queenstown, and ready for a journey south to the maternity centre.

There is a baby hammock in the lounge, already made up with sheets and a mattress protector (because I couldn't help myself), ready and hanging in the living room. It came with a stand, but we also plan to add a couple of hooks around the house. Our room has been rearranged so that the hammock will be able to hang above the bed (the bed itself had to move so that it was below the structural beam) for easy 4am feeding.

Apparently these hammocks make new babies feel more settled and comfortable because they envelope the little guys in a warm, soft and ever-moving, womb-like cocoon. They also can't flip onto their stomachs (ever tried to flip onto your stomach in a hammock?) so they are safe too from asphyxiation.

Over the weekend the baby sling I bought off Trademe arrived. We haven't bought a pushchair yet so the sling is an inexpensive way to carry him and still have arms free. I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I have already tested it out using a teddy bear.

So, yes, I think I can now say we are ready to meet you, little baby, whenever you are ready to meet us.

Belly shots

In a different life, that title would pertain to a very different type of post. In the world of pregnancy, it means photos of me and my belly, sans booze. These were skillfully taken by Maytyra Tiren, who hopefully doesn't mind me posting them on my blog. I've just picked two because they are taking forever to upload...but I'm sure you get the picture anyway!

 

Playing big girl games

Sometimes adulthood feels like a game invented to entertain us through our grown up years. I guess this is not an original thought - it's where terms like The Game of Life come from - but it has struck me lately that this is how people get through life happily, by choosing the game they like best and making that their life (provided they live in a society where the choice is possible).

So accountants like solving number puzzles, architects like drawing and working out spatial problems, writers like making up stories. All the stuff in between can be tedious, but in a way it is also like playing. Mowing the lawns using a noisy machine - you get results, a clean, cut section of grass to look at afterwards, a sense of achievement, plus your mind is momentarily busied by the task of pushing the mower around the square, of getting it done. I won't go so far as to say that doing dishes is anywhere near similar (I can't wait to live in a house with a dishwasher again) but cooking too is a creative outlet, if you have the time and energy to see it that way. And then you add relationships to enrich life socially and mentally, to have other minds to bounce ideas off and people to accompany you as you play.

Having a baby is the ultimate activity. I guess as we get older we need our pass-times to have some purpose, in order to feel as though something is being accomplished and changed by our being around on this Earth. That's perhaps why housewives don't feel a great deal of satisfaction, especially when the children are older and don't require so much care and attention. Bringing a baby into the world literally takes up your whole life, from what I have been told, and it has consequences. The child will change the world in some way, however small. What you do or don't do for him will have consequences in his life.

This baby has already taken over my body, but has yet to fill my hours. I am trying not to wait for him, but instead to use my time to cultivate grown-up thoughts and ideas, and do creative activities like making jewellery, writing stories and baking bread, as well as indulge in some hedonistic relaxation.

Problem is, he's so close now, he's taken over most of my thought processes...the idea that my body could send signals of his imminent arrival at any moment lends a slight risk factor to even the simple idea of going for a walk. I feel I should be mentally prepared and physically rested at all times, in case today is the day. And there are things that I should do, to negate any future regrets - things like get my manuscript sent away.

Okay, hang in there baby, your time will come.

Venting

Yesterday we went to Lumsden again. At this point the midwife visits are weekly, which is a bit tiring since it is a long drive, but I guess there are only two weeks left until my due date now so I won't be complaining for long! However, this is the second time I have driven the hour and a bit to get down there and then been kept waiting over an hour before they can see me. This time, there was actually no one there - apparently they had tried calling me all morning to change the appointment, interesting that they didn't try my mobile - but a nurse at the clinic next door got hold of someone for me, and eventually they came.

This made me wonder if we were making the right choice deciding to have the baby there. Are we going to show up in the depths of labour and find the doors locked because they couldn't find my mobile number to let me know they weren't going to be able to be there? It seemed a little unprofessional. It turned out well in the end though. First the nurse plied me with milo and chocolate coconut squares, then the midwife who came to meet me was extremely apologetic and, more importantly, seemed to be right on my wavelength as far as how I would like this birth to go.

Even so, the experience made me realise that a home birth is not so much of a drastic idea for a first baby as I had previously thought. It's a bit late for us to organise one now - I want a pool and I think finding one to rent and a space in our house to set it up would be a drama, not to mention the visiting family who will be here in a couple of weeks - but I can definitely see it on the cards for next time. Not having to leave home and upset what I am sure is going to be a fine balance of emotions during the labour would be great. I'm pretty sure no matter how chilled I manage to stay before we drive to Lumsden, the car ride is going to throw me off a bit. The first half hour includes a road that is officially called the Devil's Staircase. Yeah.

The Devil's Staircase...perhaps not the best road for a labouring woman to travel

Anyway, as I get closer to the impending arrival I am aware that these posts are probably becoming not just more sparse, but perhaps also less poignant, so I will sign off... Hopefully next post I can put up some shots that were taken by a photographer in the back yard this week. She was offering a free photo shoot for mums to be, in order to build up her portfolio. I am pretty certain they are going to be very cheesy, but being that I am a lady of leisure at the moment and like free stuff, it was an opportunity I could not pass up.