"I will praise the one who's chosen me, to carry you"
-Selah: I will carry you

Sunday 31 July 2016

Ready and Waiting

A couple of nights ago I sat on my bed and looked at the moses basket, sitting there expectantly waiting for the baby that is coming very soon, and it hit me- this baby really is coming home, very soon! It brought a tear to my eye.  It was, perhaps, the first moment that I fully allowed myself to believe that it is true.  That this little rainbow is actually going to make it.  That we aren't about to start again on the journey of grief. A mix of joy...and sadness.  Of pleasure and pain. A new life but one still lost. It is just a moses basket. But it is so much more. It's a hand-me-down that has never been used. It is full of expectation both unfulfilled and renewed. 

So here we are at 34+4! Can you believe that I will reach early term (37 weeks) in just two weeks and three days? I can't.  It is a miracle I credit and thank God for.  I know that not all of my readers share my beliefs, but honestly, can you explain it any other way? OK, I have been on bed rest, but, let's not forget I had less than 1cm of cervix at 26 weeks, and had been losing 1cm every 2-3 weeks! None of my caregivers thought I would get this far, nor did I.  We have all run out of adjectives to describe how amazing it is, and all I have left is "Miraculous".  Nothing is impossible with God.  Science gets you so far, then there's God.

Do you remember the scripture I came across in my first week in hospital? When I felt like I was in prison?






Well, it has proved true, hasn't it?  I didn't give up, and my work HAS been rewarded, almost. I feel very "lucky" compared to many friends who lost their babies at full term. At least for me I can enjoy the last few weeks of my pregnancy knowing I am past my danger zone, rather than getting increasingly scared up to my due date. Of course I take nothing for granted. I know too much for that and am fully aware than nothing is guaranteed, even now. But, I do believe it's going to be OK. And since I will not be allowed to go overdue, the longest we will have to wait to hold our precious bundle is just 5 1/2 weeks, probably less. 

Now we are here, I really think we are going to make term.  I have finally stopped stockpiling size zero nappies and knitting tiny outfits, next week I will re-pack the hospital bag to be prepared for a term sized baby.  At our growth scan on Friday, Grub was estimated at 4lb 14oz! So almost too big for the "tiny baby" babygrows I bought already! I've knitted a newborn sized hat and today will start the matching cardigan.  (It is a girl design, I couldn't resist how cute it was! Plus I still think Grub is a girl.  Maybe next week I'll do a boy one just in case) And they are for MY baby, not a gift! Wow.

The pram is here, the nursery is done.  Rainbow themed, naturally. It is bright and happy and beautiful.  Again it is bittersweet to finish it, when Bertie's never got finished.  We have kept a couple of things from his Pooh bear theme, plus his Oglet toy to share with his baby sibling.  It felt good, and sad, to finally take them out of the drawers.  I am glad we moved house.  I think to re-do the same room would have been too difficult.

So now, we wait. We are as prepared as we can be.  We've watched hilarious birth class DVDs (having missed our antenatal classes with me being admitted), read my pregnancy book, bought everything we can think of that we may need in the first week, and restrained ourselves from buying the rest.

And breathe, and wait.

Monday 11 July 2016

The chronicles of Bed Rest: Reflections (day 52)

As my time in hospital draws to an end, I've been thinking about what I have learned about myself, and about life over the past six weeks. 

It's a total cliche but I have learned what is most important to me. That being this baby being safe, and time spent with my husband.  When you see each other every day it becomes easy to take that time for granted. The tv goes on, attention turns to social media, whatever it may be. When you have a couple of hours every couple of days? You look forward to that time. You spend it chatting, even though you don't have much to say because you've been in the same room all day. You want to hear about what he's been up to.  You treasure the moments where he's getting kicked in the face by your bump. That family time becomes so precious, especially when you don't know how much more of it you'll get. Each time he left for home without me, my heart broke a little bit. It was like being 18 again and going back to uni after a weekend together- there have been tears! I have appreciated more than ever all the little ways he loves me, and Grub.  I can see what an amazing father he is going to be. 

I have developed a new appreciation for the loneliness of people who live alone, and/or can't get out much.  I understand now why elderly relatives want to know what day you are coming, what time, how long for? It is because they are living for that visit.   I have realised just how many great friends I have, near and far, who have visited several times and continued to support and pray for us daily. I really appreciate all of them. 

I've lived with a limited wardrobe, every other day showers and rarely worn any makeup.  I have spent nothing on myself for six weeks, other than a birthing ball, maternity nightie for labour and a birth education DVD (can you tell my mind has turned to having to actually deliver this baby!). I have asked Mr T to bring my bank card in twice- once so I could give a charity donation, and once so I could take advantage of a sale to buy the few things we still need for the baby. It's been great! Not least because I have saved so much money this month! I wonder if that'll continue once I'm home....

Of course I have still had creature comforts. People have generously brought me girly bits like hand creams as well as books, fruit, sweet treats and tea! I haven't been on digital detox - in fact I have relied more than ever on social media to keep connected. I have spoken on the phone and texted people more than ever, simply because I have the time.  It probably took me the best part of the first week to switch off the internal monologue of "stuff I need to organise" to stop writing lists for Mr T to do, to stop worrying about work and how they were coping without me. In short to realise I am not indispensable and there's nothing I could do about it if I were! 

As much as I miss my home, I don't miss the "stuff". Life has been for the most part, happily simple in here. Of course having your meals brought to you, sheets changed for you and cleaning done for you all helps! But what I mean is, I haven't missed all my possessions. I have my iPad, and I won't lie I would have struggled without it, but all I have used it for is Internet, to keep up with friends and news, and reading a book. I've streamed a couple of shows to pass the time. I don't miss the tv. There's no show I regret not seeing.  

What I do miss about home, despite feeling lonely at times in here, is a sense of privacy and space. Alone time. I know that sounds really silly but what I mean is, in here, people start coming in to my room on their own schedules throughout the day, starting at 8am. Whether I am up or not.  It grates a little bit. But I know it is not a hotel and they have jobs to do. So I make sure I am up as often as I can. Being able to lay in bed beyond 8am without fear of intrusion by anyone but The Cat will be a real luxury for the last few (hopefully) weeks before Grub arrives!  I am an introvert- space and privacy are important to me. I am also missing The Cat and the quiet (and not so quiet) companionship she offers. Resting my hand on a fuzzy head and hearing a contented purr is a treat I took for granted until now. 

I have learned, if I didn't already know, that I would and will do anything for this child. God has proven to me once again that He can and will provide beyond what I could ask and expect.  I never allowed myself to really believe I would be discharged still pregnant. I have no doubt that I wouldn't be if it weren't for the enormous amount of prayer and grace being extended to us. 

It's been interesting, and enlightening. I wouldn't want to do it again, but I hope I remember the lessons for life. Now that I am down to my last couple of days, I am finding it really tough. Because I know it is almost over, it's been such a long day today.   I feel quite tearful and I just want to go already. I've done my best, I've been compliant and mostly uncomplaining. But I'm so ready for it to be over! Officially I'm in until 32 weeks, which is Wednesday morning. But I am going to see if they won't let me go tomorrow evening instead, just a night early, at 31+6. No big deal right? But to me it would be a huge deal. My own bed. A night early!! Wish me luck....! 

Sunday 3 July 2016

The Chronicles of bed rest:Day 44

30+4 guys! So great! We are four weeks further along than Bertie. Now that my gestation begins with a 3, I am so much more relaxed. We have even started researching prams! I'm daydreaming about christenings instead of funerals and just did a big online shop in Mothercare sale.....in short the pregnancy feels almost normal now.

But, now that I have stopped worrying about Grub, it has given me the head space to think about Bertie. Now we know why he came too soon, and we also know that he most likely would have been OK had we known, had I done bed rest.  It's a weird one. In some ways it helps to know it was nothing I did wrong, and it means the problem can be managed in this and any possible future pregnancies should we be blessed again. But on the other hand it hurts to know that it wasn't "not meant to be" (not that I ever believed that), that he would have been ok, should have been Ok. I know there's no point playing the what if game, because nobody wins...but the thought is there. I also think about how he would be as a big brother, whether he'd be hoping for a brother or a sister. Definitely a brother I think. Girls smell when you're nearly five! It hurts that we won't get the sibling photo.

This morning we went to look at SCBU here. I was a bit apprehensive, afraid it would bring up difficult memories. It didn't. Infact I am glad we did it, as actually it was a lot less "medicalised" than I was envisaging, particularly in the lower dependency nurserys that Grub would be into now.  We have also learned that if I can get to 34 weeks, then depending on the condition of the baby, there's a chance we will be able to stay together in "transitional care" here on the post natal ward, rather than being separated with Grub in SCBU and me discharged home. That would be so wonderful! Basically it's if the baby is able to breathe and feed with little/no support but does require monitoring and possibly some minor interventions. The neonatal team would visit us daily and the midwives would support breastfeeding. It would mean me being admitted again but who cares? We'd be together which is what I so desperately want.

So forget 32 weeks, the goalposts have been moved again. I am now praying to make 34. I'm just three days off 31 so it feels doable. I just have to behave once I get home and not start walking about too much! I have a huge incentive now, we can do this!