Starting to get organised, I've made a List, ordered a birth pool, some teeny-tiny nappy wraps, a big bottle of lavender oil and some detergent, found a window cleaner (it was on the List) and thought hard about what to do with M while I am in labour. Not come up with any great solutions but I (if nobody else) am happy to play it by ear. Cameron is in London else he would have been nagged up a ladder to retrieve small vests and babygros, etc; a job for the weekend. I even took the carpet lurking in the hallway to the allotment - some weirdo form of nesting behaviour but surely more useful than scrubbing skirting boards.
Toddlers are nuts, it's official. After we dropped C off at the station Monday night, M and I had the following conversation.
- Has Daddy gone to London?
- Yes.
- To see the Queen?
- Um. Yes.
- With Max?
- (thinking hard)...who's Max?
- He's a man. He's got short hair.
- (assuming she means Cameron's university friend Max, who is indeed a short-haired man and who lives in London though how M knows that I have no idea) Oh yes, that's right.
- They haven't got big spoons.
Must contact Max and ask about the dimensions of his cutlery; otherwise, does anybody know some kiddies' television programme, perhaps, with a small-spooned short-haired character called Max?
Lisa at 15:59
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Cornwall was very nice thank you, we got on the beach several times and went to the Eden project too; spent quality time with great-granny (Countdown and Come Dine With Me); read a proper newspaper every day - and I read a whole book! - and Cameron didn't have to do too much work. The cottage was good, too, with a playground, farm trail, "pets corner" (one bunny, four ducks and some hens) and an indoor toddler play area.
Baby spent the week alternating between being properly breech and transverse (it has been well-poked); yesterday as I went to bed I was sure its head was further down than it had been before - but still off to one side. I had another feel (poor thing) when I woke up this morning and thought it was head-down but convinced myself it couldn't be...
It is! And the hospital doctor was really nice - not particularly supportive of homebirth, as you might expect, and very keen to tell me all the reasons I should go to hospital instead (also to write in my notes that I had agreed to transfer in if necessary: what difference does that make to anybody?), but also keen to reassure that if I did have to transfer in I wouldn't be treated any worse than a planned hospital birth. (Until that point it had never crossed my mind that I might be: now it has). Fundal height is back up, as you would expect, and it was very interesting listening to her explain it all to her student. I wish I'd done medicine.
I have come away feeling unsure what she was, though - I had assumed she was an obstetrician until she turned out to be very keen on bladders and confessed to being a member of the international continence society (I used to work on an incontinence drug so it wasn't an entirely random conversation). She wasn't sure why I was there, though (huh, if she didn't know and I didn't know...): was it to do with the urinary retention problems I had after my last labour or was it because I wanted a homebirth? I said neither, as far as I was aware, but to do with a small fundal height...hey ho. I said it was all nonsense. (And surely being sent to hospital because I wanted a homebirth would just be weird?)
We had quite an interlude in which to chat about my job, as she'd sent somebody off to find my notes from last time (she was sure she would remember me as they don't get many such cases of urinary retention). If only she'd thought to check if I had had my last baby in Chester it would have saved much time.
Made my 41-week overdue appointment while I was there: was are almost certainly going to need it so I thought I might as well. Plus, given my record so far (baby turning this morning and M refusing to make an appearance until I had an absolutely unbreakable appointment for induction) I thought it might focus this baby's mind and get it out a bit quicker!
Lisa at 09:59
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I'm feeling very stressed and grumpy and can feel my so-far nice and low blood pressure rising unnecessarily. When I get back from Cornwall I have to go to hospital because - well, I'm not really sure why. If it was urgent you wouldn't think it would be OK to wait a week. I'm quite irritated, actually: my MW has insisted I go because my fundal height is showing no increase since 4 weeks ago BUT the baby was breech (ie upright) then and is now transverse (ie sideways) so a brief consideration of baby topology shows that of course it is measuring smaller. I have spent the day stomping about the house muttering about how I am thinner side to side than top to bottom and so are most people I know! But there are protocols, so to hospital I must go - and not even for a scan but to let one of the hospital MWs have a feel. So is my MW effectively saying she doesn't trust her own judgement? I don't know. If the baby has moved again by the time I get back I may well phone and cancel the appt anyway. In the meantime Unnecessary Stress (and packing, too!). Much dairy milk.
It seems to be par for the course though - they can't take a blood sample without muttering darkly about what happens if the Hb count is too low, and today I had to hear all about how they don't like homebirths past 42 weeks (a bit premature at 32 weeks, you'd think? Especially as they know I went to 42 + 3 with Maggie so there is a good chance I'll be overdue again. I am developing a catch phrase: let's cross that bridge when we come to it.)
Lisa at 16:40
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I've bought Maggie a new book about new babies. It's a bit graphic: 2-year-olds can cope with placentas (placentae?), right?! I just got a bit sick of the ones I've been lent/found in the library, where a new baby is a redecorating opportunity, where mum and dad disappear off to hospital and then appear with a small bundle who sleeps in its own room and drinks bottles of milk. They just don't really tally with what Maggie will experience. Oh, and worst of all are the books which put ideas into her head: I am sure we will have jealousy and possession issues, but why ask for trouble by suggesting that is how she is supposed to feel? So. New book. Placenta. We'll see.
Off to Cornwall tomorrow so I may not post again until next weekend. Go out and do a sun-dance for us, please, so we can get on the beach.
Lisa at 17:07
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We've had a lovely weekend, despite the occasional fireworks that result from the combination of "over-tired and two" with "pregnant and exhausted" (and single-mumming at the weekend is even less fun than it is midweek).
Friday afternoon, M and I went to a party at one of the neighbour's. M had a lovely time playing with the big girls on trampoline and bouncy castle (they were so good with her, made the big boys get off or bounce gently when she was nearby!) and scoffing chocolate fingers. I loathe and fear meeting large groups of new people but it was really fine: they were mostly friendly and chatty (of course! Why would they be otherwise?). Apart from one woman talking about that channel 5 show who, when I happened to know a bit about it (ie the title: I didn't say any more about it than that) - having actually watched the programme not just the trailer - looked at me with utter contempt and said you're not into all that are you which I thought was a bit rude given that she didn't know me from Adam. Naturally, I've been dwelling on that all weekend rather than thinking about all the people who were welcoming and kind. Anyway.
Dashed home from the party for a quick turn-around as Sara and Ian were here to look after the hooligan while C and I painted Chester red for our anniversary. Or had a very nice, quiet, meal at Got Wine (nice restaurant, bloody stupid name): much the same thing.
Saturday was tumbletots in the morning followed by a trip to Crosby with Sara and Ian again, to see the iron men again, then onto the red-squirrel sanctuary at Formby. Didn't really expect to see any but there were loads! And what a glorious day for a walk in a sweet-scented pine forest. And ice cream.
Yesterday was my single-mum day as C had to go in to work: I did a reasonably good impersonation of supermum in my opinion (apart from the aforementioned fireworks): M and I went out and picked blackberries then came home and made a cake; we played in the garden, I did a pile of ironing and then she helped me make pizza (from scratch!) for tea. Ting! See my halo glint. I even made blackberry jam when she was in bed. And this morning I had to wake her at 8.45; poor wee mite was completely exhausted.
The only bad news is that C appears to have lost his passport. Must go and turn the house even further upside-down, but am not hopeful. This does mean he hasn't gone to Germany today. Perhaps it makes me a bad, unsupportive corporate wife (I'll stick with the fish) but I can't help being quite pleased by that.
Lisa at 09:40
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What a charmer.
"Are you cross because of the banana mummy?"
"Yes, it was very wasteful"
"Can I kiss you" (mwa) "Are you happy now, mummy? Shall we dance?"
Lisa at 09:31
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Ahem. Long time no blog, and my wheel of the year photos just didn't happen this month either (I still might take them, later). I have excuses though! Lots of them! We spent Friday mostly sitting in a selection of traffic jams on the M6 en route to Ely for a family wedding. Oh, and stopping at service stations as M has realised that the most sure-fire way to instant attention and some fresh air is to wail want a weeeeeee weeeeeee. Friday night was a very jolly family meal, interrupted only to dash up and down flights of stairs to see M, who was, we thought, unhappy at being in a strange place. More fool us: it turned out she was preparing to be really very poorly indeed for the wedding and right through until this morning. Still haven't quite decided whether to blame teeth (she has 4 big molars still to come) or the ubiquitous "virus".
It was a very nice wedding anyway: lovely to see the family, even if C did see rather more of them than I did! And I liked wearing a big hat. I didn't really expect to go all the way to Cambridgeshire for a wedding and to come home feeling like I've caught up on a week's worth of missing sleep, but that was a bit of a bonus nonetheless. Have come back with a cold, too, while Cameron has completely knackered his back (not so much that he can't go to work yet too much to lift the kettle: a good man-injury!)
Last bit of news: we are full steam ahead on the nice new not-too-weedy allotment. I'm going to assess this afternoon; work out how many raspberry canes I can fit in, and plan a layout.
Must dash: have to return my hat and buy an orange. Oh, and happy anniversary to us.
Lisa at 08:55
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