The Chronicles of Bed Rest: Day 13

I think I'm getting the hang of this now. The lovely midwives moved me to a side room yesterday, so now not only do I have my own private space and bathroom, I have a window that opens and a view of trees and sounds of birdsong. In a pretty shitty situation, this is a real blessing for which I am most grateful. I said I was happy to stay sharing, and they said no, we hope you are going to be with us a long time, so you need your own room. I love their optimism and care! 

The downside is I do feel quote isolated with little to no human interaction, unless I use the bell to call someone, which I was forced to do for the first time this morning to request my breakfast. Second boob-I accidentally pressed the emergency bell as couldn't find anything else-I'd knocked the call bell off the wall in my sleep!  It is very out of character for me to ask for things like that but I know I have to be selfish for the time being. I'm sure I'll get used to it!

Sleep was better last night, even if I now not only need my body pillow for back, knees and bump, but a shoulder one to stop it hurting and then an extra head one so my head is above my shoulder! #pillowfortress

So I decided I need to establish a routine, to prevent me going completely stir crazy, so this morning I've given it a go. So far my day has looked like this: 

4am, awake due to older person on the next ward calling out loudly- clearly in some great degree of distress/pain, combined with continued and repeated bell calling for a nurse. Decide to take advantage of being able to get on the hospital wifi whilst everyone else is asleep- sneaky! 

5.30am. Look up and bookmark some exercises I can do during bed rest. Basic ankle and leg stretching to avoid DVT, and back/shoulder/neck stretching to ease the discomfort in my upper body caused by laying head down/hips up 90% of the day. 

6.30am -call for breakfast. Have to use my knitting scissors to open the cornflakes packet. Seriously, am I that weak already or have Kellogg's just gone overboard with the glue on this batch? Delicious cup of tea makes a glorious change from water/orange squash. 

7am. Shower. Decided to try and limit to every other day, to minimise time on my feet. Felt so good, hard to restrict time to 10mims! Take advantage of teeth cleaning at sink to do some pelvis tilts and calf stretches.  Have to get lovely anti-DVT support stockings back on. Where is that little plastic bag the student midwife used over my foot to do this yesterday?  I thought getting normal socks on at home was getting hard with this belly, this is something else! May need to get midwife help with this in a couple of weeks! 

Remember with delight that Mr T brought me the big tub of E45! Will help so much with the eczema I am getting on my upper arms from laying on them causing pressure points.  Also-useful to get the stockings on! 

Dressed, back to bed. Whole getting up routine took 20mims out of bed. Need to streamline. Don't want to lose my shower privileges too! Realise heart is pounding. Wow, I really have lost stamina fast! Scary! 

7.20am. Daily bible reading. Lots of helpful scripture during my stay so far. Decide to write good verses out for daily reminders. Text Mr T to ask for blue tack so I can put up any cards that come (hint!) ;) 

No further joy with wifi, cheat and use 3G. Must watch my data limit here! New message, someone else wants to come visit me! I am now booked up until mid next week. Feeling very loved and blessed. Very grateful for the care, friendship, and prayer so many people are extending.

8am. Write this blog (offline, hurrumph). Realising bed rest may also become digital detox! 

Plan for rest of day? May have to crack open a puzzler....! 

Emotion wise, feeling alright.  Grub is showing no sign of making an appearance...but then, Bertie didn't either-until he did. Two more days until we reach his gestation, three until we  beat it. Yes, I am encouraging sibling rivalry already!  My room is full of post natal information posters eg feeding, baby bathing lessons, co sleeping etc. Makes me wonder daily if I will need this info this time. Feel sad at the realisation that I won't get to do my antenatal classes, again. Another birth clueless then! Glad I at least have my old pregnancy book, the mechanics can't have changed that much, right?  I've informed work it looks likely I won't be back until after maternity leave. Also feel sad about that. I really wanted the proper send off this time, not to just disappear one day like last time. Oh well, what is important is that Grub is safe and stays in as long as possible. I didn't want a baby shower anyway for obvious reasons so we will just have to have a coming home party instead!   

I read this morning that every day in the womb means two less days in NICU. That's encouraging! This baby is still kicking up a storm in there, probably because I am so sedentary, s/he never gets rocked to sleep! Mr T always manages to calm them, he reckons Grub's a daddy's girl :) 

Sorry for the daily updates, probably quite dry reading! Trying to avoid over-blogging but boredom sets in quickly!

Update: Consultant has just been to see me. "let's get to 30weeks". Amen to that. I may need blood thinning injections as I'm pretty immobile, she'll work out my risk- ok! I asked would they attempt to stop labour if it begins now that I have had the steroids. Yes, as long as we realised soon enough so I must report any twinge. I would also be given magnesium for the baby's brain. If I am still pregnant in two weeks time, I still need the GTT. Rats! Lol. Will be done up here though rather than down in clinic. Double rats, was hoping for a morning out! Pleased to hear I can bring in pictures etc to make it homely. Would love some encouraging scripture art so have set some local creative friends of the case :) we can do this Grub. We can. And we will. 

The Chronicles of Bed Rest:Day 12

So I have now been admitted to hospital. My cervix is down to 0.7cm on average. It is too late to intervene surgically so we just have to wait. I am not entirely suprised, I saw this coming weeks ago. I feel a little cross that they decided to go with the wait and see approach, but I did agree to it as the reasoning made sense at the time. Of course, hindsight is 20:20.

So, the plan is strict bed rest until either I deliver, or 32 weeks, whichever comes first. If I get to 32 weeks they *may* let me go home. It seems an impossible target right now, so I am sticking to my own goal of 30 weeks, which is four weeks today. I have already made a preemie hat, and am working on a cardigan. Of course, if born now Grub wouldn't be able to wear the cardigan, but it gives me a thing to do and makes me feel better to know that they will have an outfit...if it comes to dressing them forever. They can use the hat anyway :) as the weeks go on if I am still pregnant I will make slightly bigger ones.

I have my wrist band, no ankle tag just yet ;) I have asked a friend to find me a little calendar so I can tick off the days. Thought I may get told off for doing tallys on the walls!

Of course, first morning here and I have already made a boob! The midwife told me yesterday I was fine to go for loo breaks, showers and to the dining room down the corridor to have my meals. So I wandered down for breakfast just to find when I asked where I should leave my used tray, they were planning to bring all my meals to me "becuase you're on bed rest!" Oops. So that's another priveledge gone :/. Of course I will do whatever it takes to get this baby home alive and if that means breakfast lunch and dinner in bed, so be it! At least it isn't sunny today :)

Feelings are mixed. There is so much prayer, which really is helping. I am trying to focus on the positives. They have given me the steroids, and are aware of the situation, and I am here. All putting Grub in a better position than Bertie. However, I am still just 26 weeks, and even with the steroids, the risks are high. Pregnancy is supposed to last 40 weeks for a reason! They do appear to have done something though, Grub was pounding away like Popeye all night long and is at it again now!

I am glad on the one hand we went away last weekend and got some photos and memories. On the other I am questioning whether I should have been stricter with my rest at home.  Again, hindsight is 20:20 and at that time things were stable.

I am now waiting for Dr ward round where hopefully I may be given a better idea of my chances of getting to 30 weeks. I am expecting the "if only we had a crystal ball" speech, but need to ask the question.

Fortunately, hubby is off this week so he is able to come in regularly for the next few days to keep me company and bring things I need to make the stay more comfortable and bearable. Besides knitting I expect I'll do some professional development, and I wonder how God will use this time with me? I certainly am not too busy for Him now am I?

I already miss home, hubby and cat. but I am still pregnant, and right now that is the most important thing.

The Chronicles of bed rest: Day 6

Grub and I have made it through another week! 25 weeks today.  After a couple of weeks of worry over no weight gain, today I am pleased to see I have gained almost 5lbs :) Grub's had a growth spurt and it's so reassuring!

After a weekend away visiting family for one last time, I am now firmly planted on the sofa with the weight off my feet (and cervix!) I am so glad we had the weekend at home- with our consultant's permission of course.  Whilst I still stayed off my feet as much as possible, we also made happy memories with family and it took our minds off the situation. We visited Bertie for what may be the last time before his sibling arrives, and got a family photo at his foreverbed. Bittersweet. I did catch myself wondering if next time we go will be to bury Grub beside him, and eyeing up was there room? I quickly quashed that thought though. Not. Going. To. Happen. No. Not.

Today I am passing the time thinking about packing the hospital bag. I've drawn up two lists- what I would want/need if I were admitted for strict bedrest, and another for incase I go into labour.  It's tricky to actually pack when we don't know which way things will go, but I suppose I ought to pack the emergency bag unless/until they tell us otherwise.

I am waiting on a delivery of yarn, so I can start knitting a preemie hat and cardigan for Grub. This is really for the worst-case-scenario.  Going out to buy something for Bertie, and it still being far too big for him despite being a "premature baby" outfit is not a happy memory. Of course, I hope never to need what I intend to knit but if we do...."at least" we will have it, and I will know Grub will forever wear his/her first outfit lovingly knitted by mummy. 

It all still feels quite surreal and theoretical. Packing, like having my notes with me, gives a sense of control over an uncontrollable situation. No matter what, we will have what I need, and what Grub needs. We're ready for this, practically, if not mentally/emotionally. Be prepared for the worst, whilst hoping for the best is the latest mindset.

Tomorrow we go back to the hospital for dildo cam, to tell us if my cervix is behaving or if I need emergency surgery or admission. Steroids have been mentioned- to mature Grub's lungs should s/he make an appearance. Getting them will be both reassuring, and scary, as it means they think the baby will come soon-but if they do their lungs will have had a boost. We shall see tomorrow I suppose. Maybe nothing will have changed as we'll get another week's grace.

Speaking of grace, I must say I am feeling mostly at peace. Thankyou to everyone who is praying for that- it is working. 

The Chronicles of Bed Rest: Day 1

Ok, so I'm not technically of full bed rest just yet, but I have been signed off work for the next six weeks and adviced to "take it easy with my feet up". My cervix has shortened further, to below the normal range for this gestation, and the idea is to try to get me to the next goal of 30 weeks. If I am still pregnant then, we will reassess and I may be allowed to go back to work part-time- hurrah!

So today has been my first proper day of trying to sit still. To avoid total insanity I have been out to see a friend for an hour, but otherwise my day has revolved around the sofa, the downstairs loo and the kitchen.

Things I have learned:

It isn't fun. Trust me I would rather be at work! My back and hips ache and it is actually really hard to find a position on the sofa that is comfortable for more than an hour.   I need to stretch and move!

Google is NOT my friend. Ok, so I technically learned this during IVF, but today I have discovered it is even more evil than I imagined. After an hour of searching for "cervix 1.5cm at 24 weeks" I was convinced I was going to lose the baby unless I lay on my left side in bed all day every day and only allowed myself loo breaks and showers every other day.  Hmm. I choose to trust my highly knowledgeable and experienced doctor over random internet strangers, thanks. Sofa and moving around it is. For now. Google be damned.

Online grocery shopping is a pain in the bum! I dislike grocery shopping, it's a chore I realy could just do without, but have always done it and avoided online delivery becuase I like to choose my own veg and make sure things have long dates. We've got it down to a fine art, personal best time is 25 mins for the weekly shop! That's becuase we plan ahead, take a list, and know where everything is in the shop. (Set me loose in an unfamiliar supermarket and it's a half a morning saga...!)  I have just completed my first online shop in the shocking time of 1 hour ten mins! ugh! It's a minefield! The way they categorize products is different to how I would, so just finding stuff is tricky for a start. I also discovered that my "list" is actually not all that complete, as I know my usual stuff and grab it as I see it on the way round. Heaven knows if we have a complete shop heading our way, or if I have just blown the budget on a load of random stuff and no actual complete meals. I'm assured it will get quicker and easier as the site learns and remembers my "favourites". It better had!

The Cat has seeminly enjoyed my company today, with lots of co-snoozing on the sofa, cat against bump.  As far as I know she didn't get kicked.  That was interrupted with a mutual jump when my phone went off- Mr T sending a text to check how I was, aww.  Apart from the pounding heart rate and adrenaline shot from being woken up mid-dose, OK thanks honey!

We are going away this weekend, father in law's 70th. Heading home. Where Bertie was born. Doctor says it is OK, but to have the hospital phone number and my notes handy.  Bit nervous about it, but we decided that it is unlikely I will go into labour this weekend, and I can sit on our parents' sofas just as easily as my own. I do need to try and live my life.  We have already had the discussion that should the worst happen, we would want them buried with Bertie anyway....Stop those thoughts right there. I have a whole 1.5cm of cervix and it isn't going anywhere in the next three days.   Check up again in a week.  We are all hoping my cervix will just stay the length it is now.  Apparently my risk of spontaneous preterm labour if it does is just 3.6%.   I find that unlikely given my history, and the fact I've been losing a cm every 1-2 weeks.   I expect it'll be down again and I may be admitted for strict bed rest. So, a visit home for one last hurrah and one last visit to Bertie before his sibling makes their appearance. Hopefully not in the next six weeks!

24 weeks

Thoughts out of my head and on to the screen. Read, or not, as you wish.

Tomorrow I will be 24 weeks pregnant.  It's the milestone in pregnancy where the baby is considered to be "viable". An awful term that means they have the potential to survive outside the womb, so doctors will do everything possible to save the baby if they are born from now.  (Well, four hours from now to be exact.  Given my birth history, there's still time.) In short, it is the point where the baby changes from being considered a "miscarriage" to a human being.

I've been waiting with baited breath to get to this point. 24 weeks has been the new 12 weeks for, well the last 12 weeks.  Morbid thoughts of "at least they would help us now."  This baby isn't even born yet and already I am looking for the "at leasts".   It is small comfort of course. Bertie came at 26+3 and didn't make it.  Still, a chance is better than none.

Paranoia has set in. I have been carrying my maternity notes around with me everywhere since 22 weeks. Is that paranoia? Or sensible? It is one thing I can control.  History won't repeat in that respect (at least...!). I won't go into labour without having my notes. Win. Control. Or the feeling of control anyway.   Or, I won't be able to blame myself for not having had them anyway.  Damage limitation perhaps.

My mind is in a constant state of flux. I spent most of this morning in a state of near panic at work.  Triggered in part by seeing a little boy, one of triplets born at 26 weeks. He is now six and has multiple physical and mental limitations. Bam. A reminder that it isn't simply a case of keeping them alive, but what happens to them if we do?  Also a mix of joy for her that she has her son, and jealousy that I don't have mine. Worry that Grub will come too soon too. Would s/he live? What would that life look like? 

Every twinge, every ache, every normal pregnancy gripe becomes a sign of pre-term labour in my mind when the flux shifts to maximal fear and worry. Then, a few hours later, I will be making plans for 6, 8, 10 weeks time, planning on still being pregnant! It's an exhausting merry-go-round only someone forgot to bring the "merry".

Sleep eludes me. Well, quality, refreshing sleep anyway. The current pattern is nod off at a reasonable hour, but wake up in the early hours-3am ish is a popular time for my bladder to join the party- then lay awake praying for Grub. Because, you know, maybe I didn't pray enough for Bertie.  Faith settles my mind. Prayer, more than mindfulness, works for me.  But, there is the seed of doubt because Bertie. Still. Died. God may have a plan bigger than I can understand and be working it all out for our good. But, I know how hard and painful the road of grief is to walk and I just don't want to do it again. Thankyou.

Crossness. Yes, crossness is a word in this context, that we can't just have, after everything, a straightforward pregnancy. Jealousy of those who do/did. Still not really feeling willing or able to join in with pregnancy talk or birth stories. I think that one may surprise a few people, some will get it.   I'm playing a game with my patients at work, "when are you due?" "Is it your first?" "You must be so excited!" All answered with a smile and the expected response. Because, "Well, September but at the moment I am just hoping for July at the earliest; no, I have a son in Heaven; and yes, but it's tempered with overwhelming fear most of the time" probably won't go down too well! So, we dance the dance and each say what polite society expects of a pregnant woman and a person she is seeing in a professional capacity. They leave happy. I feel drained.

Truth. Thoughts out of my head and on the screen.

Is this your first? A post for mummies expecting rainbows.

As I started to show enough for strangers to be confident enough to assume I was expecting, I began to dread this question.  What would I say? I tried to come up with a plan for what I would say and how I would handle it.  Would I say "yes" and then feel guilty? Or would I say "no", and then have to face the follow up questions that would inevitably follow? I scoured forums looking for advice on this from women who'd been there.

In the event, it just happened, and it just felt right to say yes. I was at work, it was a patient who was crossing paths with me for 20 minutes.  I needed to maintain professionalism and did not want to reveal the deepest, most sensitive part of myself in that moment.   So, "Yes" it was. Something along the lines of "oh, you must be so excited!" followed; whilst I outwardly smiled and nodded, and inwardly cringed and apologized to my son.  After that first time, it has gotten easier. My rule now is, strangers get the "yes." Anyone I am likely to form a lasting relationship with in any way, gets the truth.

And it's OK.  

I know Bertie doesn't mind. People who would have met and known him, know about him.  Who else matters? I could speak about him to a stranger, upset myself, and they will feel sad for me for a few minutes, before moving on with their life and forgetting the both of us.  So really, why spoil their day and mine? What is interesting to think about is whether I would have, could have, thought about it this way had I conceived this second baby within a year, or two, or even three of Bertie's death.  Not that the four 1/2 year wait has made the issues around a rainbow pregnancy any easier per se- my grief has settled enough that it feels alright not to mention Bertie sometimes, to some people, in some situations.  I know in the early weeks and months the idea of not mentioning him was unbearable to me, like I was denying his existence, and denying my status as a mother.   What time has given me is the perspective that those who matter, know. And everything else is just expectations I have been putting on myself.

If I get that far...

The sentence I have probably uttered the most this pregnancy is "if I get that far."  I say it after answering every question (from people who know me and our story) along the lines of when I am due, or when I will be finishing work.   And, considering they know what happened last time, they are always really taken aback and reply "what do you mean?" or "Of course you will get that far" or my personal favorite "you'll be fine this time!" All well meant, of course, and by writing this I am not moaning about or criticising any of that.  It is just an observation that has surprised me.  The truth is, no-body knows that we will be fine this time, no-body can say for sure that I won't deliver early.  My only experience of pregnancy is pre-term labour, and the death of my son.  So please forgive me for being- not fatalistic, but realistic.  It's my pregnancy-version ofknocking on wood I guess.

I wasn't expecting these reactions though. I suppose I should have. The thought of one baby dying was too much for a lot of people to contemplate, so to even allude to the fact it could possibly happen again is not something people want to have to deal with.  I get it.  But, I do have to deal with it. I can't stick my head in the sand and tell myself everything will be fine. Every time my baby kicks, I do not simply feel reassured that he or she is OK, I am reminded of how strong they are, of how strong Bertie was, and how my body let us down.  How, he wasn't strong enough for that.   I am, in all truthfulness, not living in fear of history repeating. However, I am no longer naive and no can longer assume that I will trot into the labour ward a day after my due date and achieve my perfect-totally-planned-out-in-advance-birth.  I'm taking it a week at a time, sometimes a day. Every night I pray my thanks to God for another day with Grub, and ask for His protection over us both.   My big goal is 30 weeks. At 30 weeks there's a good chance they'll survive, unscathed.  That seed was planted after Bertie died, when we (our family) all started taking about how if he'd just stayed in another month or so, things could have been so different.  So, 30 weeks it is. Then I will maybe stop knocking on wood.  40 weeks just seems incomprehensible to me right now.