Finally!!

Right, this is going to be short and to the point, as I am knackered (though not as knackered as Fantastic New Mum, now to be referred to as FNM). These next bullet points are what she went through...

• Admitted to hospital, 2pm, Friday.
• Given 2 pessaries to induce dilation. Slept from 1am to 3am on Saturday (early) morning. Unable to sleep beyond that, no contractions and ward for induction totally packed out.
• Saturday thereafter consisted of wandering about and waiting in vain for a space in Induction Ward. Getting stressed and 2cm dilated.
• Finally taken through to Induction ward at 1am, Sunday morning, given drip to induce contractions.
• Waters manually broken, merconium present.
• Contractions regular and painful, gas'n'air after 4 hours, morphine after 5 1/2
• 5cm dilated, contractions stop for about an hour - no reason seen, then they restart.
• Baby's heartbeat dips during contraction, slow to recover at times, but oxygen levels in Baby's blood ok.
• Still 5cm, contractions intense, quick and unrelenting. Remember when FNM last slept... drifting into unconsciousness between contractions.
• 10am, still 5cm, still hard contractions, FNM now exhausted and delerious. Baby's heartbeat still dropping on contractions and clinical staff concerned due to this and points as above.
• 10.30am, decision made to deliver by C Section as FNM is physically wrecked and showing no progress through contractions.
• 11am, through to theatre for FNM, I am led to locker room to put on scrubs and await an escort to theatre. This was the lonliest 30 minutes of my life. Ever. Myself and the boss upstairs had a one to one. I think he knew where I was coming from.
• 11.30am - through to theatre and FNM is anaesthetised and more compus mentis.
• 11.41am - a cry heralds the arrival of a purple, small, irate and angry looking cone-headed little sprite who is utterly perfect. With a good set of lungs.
• 11.50am. I get to hold the afore-described purple sprite who seems to like the sound of my voice. She tried to open her eyes in the theatre, but it's too bright so she screws them shut on every attempt. I look at the pinkening little sprite, as does FNM. We both still concur - she IS perfect.

FNM is stitched up and transfered to a recovery room along with now-pink Sprite. Sprite is confirmed to staff as being Millie. Millie still likes the sound of my voice. :)

We're a day on now, but I need my bed. So I'll do the rest later. In the meantime...

Millie, you have been evicted. Time to leave the Big Mamma house. Please do not swear!

Well, the thrawn wee mite has had her way, and we're booked in for MTB's induction tomorrow. Junior wriggles, squirms, kicks and generally attacks her mum's insides, but her time is now up and her eviction notice is soon to be served.

Here's hoping that it all goes to plan!

Will update soon.

It's like Christmas day without Santa!

Time has been marching on a-pace here, an today is D-Day - we are officially at our due date, with no sign whatsoever of Millie wanting to make an appearance. Her head's about 2-3/5s engaged and she's kicking around quite merrily, but she is just so damned happy where she is, I don't think she wants to change the staus quo.

It's been a while since I posted, due to work, trying to get the house/finances etc sorted, so here's a potted history of the last few weeks.

Millie was breach, but turned of her own volition around week 33. We have had numerous midwife appointments since, which have been box ticking, back covering exercises by the NHS in the main.

Mum To Be has had all her ante-natal classes - 3 of them. Not for mums to be in 2008 the breathing exercises of yesteryear, with dads invited along.

Nope, 3 classes, all seemingly sponsored by Unicef who want all mention of bottle feeding to be eradicated in favour of ovezealous pushing of breastfeeding. It's a mum's choice, and it's wrong to make someone el like a pariah for wanting to bottle feed.

We know of kids who are always ill with the sniffles who were breastfed, yet we have 3 nieces who were all bottle fed and are the hardiest critters about. So back off Unicef.

Rant over.

Mum to be has also embarked on a course of antibiotics, due to a horrid, deepseated chest infection and cough. Not a good thing to have in the run up to labour!

We've also got a new car that's more child friendly, and the baby seat has been installed by my own fair hands! And all bags are packed and ready to go. It's now down to Millie.

Latest scan picture

It's not as clear as some of the others, but this is Milly as of today, 26th March 2008.

A turn up for the books

Well, that's the 33 week scan done, and you'll never believe it, Milly has only gone and got herself head down, feet up and ready for action!

It's totally unexpected - we were preparing ourselves for an inevitable C-Section, which MTB was somewhat dismayed at, but we had both become resigned to. Milly seems to be a headstrong little so-and-so, so the one thing we didn't expect was for her to have gone and turned.

This is after our Labout Ward guided tour last night, and the dullest most uninspiring video about pain relief. Playing the video to mum's in labour would work - it would send them to sleep. Ironically we sat through last night thinking that none of it was of any consequence to us because of our daughter's unwillingness to play ball. I'm now scratching my head trying to remember ony of the salient points.

More scan pics to go on once I have scanned them.

Full steam ahead

Midwife's appointment all went well. MTB was very relieved that the midwife agreed that Milly is very definitely breech. Not that we want her to be breech, however it's always a relief to have it recorded.

One of our friends was 10cm dilated before her midwife realised. Not reassuring. At all.

We now have our pre-natal appointments too, so it's taking shape nicely.

A scan at 33 weeks now, and it's downhill all the way. And Liverpool FC do a great line in girly-footy-wear. Happy days :)

11 weeks to go...

Well, 31 weeks done - 11 or so to go now, which isn't exactly a huge amount of time.

However, thanks to some superb friends and family, we have the nursery finished, resplendant with moses basket, cot, wardrobe, dresser, baby rocker, buggy, car seat (soon to be placed in the car) and heaps of clothes, nappies, bears etc etc.

Apparently Milly is still lying in what's known as a frank or extended breech position, with her head up the way, and her feet regularly pummeling Mum To Be's cervix, ribs and vital organs. A determined little creature she is. No doubt.

So we have the midwife on Wednesday, who last time told us that Milly's head was her bum. We didn't think so at the time. Now we know so, so hopefully she'll pick up on things properly this time.

I've been looking at school etc for the little one too. There's no way we can offard to pay fees, and the local primary school seems to be pretty decent. Howver, the secondary school in whose catchment area we fall is - to be frank - a bit of a dump. Its latest HMI report makes depressing reading, the school is known locally as having more than its fair share of neds, truants and generally unpleasant pupils who don't really care about learning. There is an other fairly near school which appears to be much better, but we fall out of its area by about half a mile.

I know it's early to be thinking about such things, but over my dead body is Milly going to the first school I referred to. Actually I would prefer if she went to the secondary school I went to but given that it is over 500 miles away, that would require some working!

In other news, I worked the football yesterday. Aberdeen were unlucky to concede an equaliser at the death, but what really disappointed me was the pitiful attendance by the AFC supporters. Far too many empty seats for what really was the most importtant match of their season, and they were out represented, outsung and out-supported by the Celtic contingent - who were a credit to their club, good humoured and who behaved themselves.


* Any spelling mistakes in these posts are the result of a rubbish wireless keyboard that occasionally misses out letters and rearranges words. I CAN spell. Thnak oyu.

We're off shopping

... for something...



PINK!!! :)


For Milly (or Amelie on a Sunday - that's what we're thinking just now anyway!)

Homebase/Argos - thanks for nothing.

I am bloody annoyed.

After waiting 6 weeks for Argos to deliver the sofa bed for the nursery, they finally managed to get it into the house today, at 7.30am.

They then told me that they couldn't take it up the stairs because it was too big with all the packaging around it.

They further advised me that they would not and could not touch the sofa without the packaging on it, "in case they damaged it".

A couple of points. Myself and MTB managed to get a whole, assembled wardrobe up the same stairs last year - it is bigger in all 3 dimnsions than the sofa, even with the packaging on.

2, Argos home delivery aim to be the best UK home delivery network.

Clearly that involves leaving a sofabed downstairs for a 7 months pregnant lady to try and lift upstairs.

Fortunately a mate came round and helped me do it, but it is far and away not the point.

So, here's the warning. If you order from Homebase or Argos, don't expect the delivery driver to give a fying fluck (see what I did there... clever eh?) about where they leave your goods. Don't expect them to help, and don't expect them to show any form of empathy if you are ill/pregnant/unable to reposition the item yourself.

Thanks Homebase/Argos, for messing us about on delivery times and not caring a jot about customer service.

Thanks for going the extra mile and providing first class service. Oh that's right, you didn't.

And thanks Iain for getting us out of the ditch that Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber put us in.

Countdown...

3 days to go...

Place your bets - boy or girl? (And we have got names sorted, regardless, too.)

(S)he is a boy/girl - watch this space!

Did you know, we're having a baby?

Did you know, up here, the hospital won't tell us whether we're having a boy or a girl?

Well, on Friday 29 February, we've decided to have a private scan, and, all things being well, we'll know. At least, we'll have the chance to buy something in pink or blue.

I know that a lot of people say we should wait and see, and it'll be a great surprise etc etc, but really - if you had the chance, wouldn't you want to know?

Anyway, there'll be some cracking 3D photos too, and a movie, so we'll post those here too for your viewing pleasure.

In other news, Steve Wright, the Suffolk strangler has been found guilty. As a parent-to-be, it's frightening to know that despite all their parents' best efforts, all his victims were there because they'd lost their way, in the first instance. All had cannabis experience and their lives spiralled after that.

That, plus Emmerdale's poignant depiction last night of the horrific SIDS phenomenon. We're in for a fun exhillerating ride, but there are scary times and worries ahead too.

Sweet talking

Well well, did you hear me sweet-talking on Northsound One yesterday, just after 4.30pm? 4 questions right out of 5, the chance to say Pants live on air (sorry to all involved!) and a beautiful Links of London bracelet to hand over to MTB.

Thank you to everyone at Northsound, Jenny, Gillian, Andrew and of course Andy James, who all made me feel very welcome, and kept me from turning into a quivering wreck before the quiz.

A bottle of champers and some choccies were also gratefully received, though being on a de-tox type diet just now, they'll have to wait a while before being opened (except the choccies - MTB rightfully decided to sample one).

And as if that wasn't all, the new Hed Kandi CD now has pride of place on my iPod.

Apparently Bubs kicked all through the show, so I don't know if that meant "Who's the dunce on the radio" or if (s)he was just very excited. I must remember to ask...

Anyhoo, we're off to the pictures tonight, to see Jumper. That's starring MTB's favourite actor by the way, Samuel L Jackson. Now why couldn't they have asked me that instead of making me say pants...

Another update

It's been a while since my last post, so here's an update as to where we are now with our growing one.

we're now 27 weeks pregnant, and mum-to-be is starting to look pregnant now. She feels pregnant too, to the degree yesterday that she reckons that she feels like an uncoordinated heffer whenever she tries to ties her laces.

Instead of agreeing with that assertation, and running the gauntlet of the pregnancy hormone maelstrom, it's now easier for me to put on MTB's socks and shoes. Not on my own feet, you understand...

Bubs is now a good 14 inches long, weighs about 2lbs and is sleeping, waking, their eyes are open now - sometimes - and apparently our wee one will even start dreaming soon, according to some experts. What they'll be dreaming about is anybody's guess, but it's quite a thought.

We've now got the cot built in the nursery, and have taken down the double bed that used to live in the room. We had no idea what we were going to with the bed. To advertise in the Scot Ads is free, but the ad is swamped amidst loads of others, so it could be in their for months before any interest, and it costs to use the local paper.

A friend suggested Aberdeen Freecycle, an email group that works on the premise that if you have any useable goods that are too good for the scrap heap you can advertise them on the email boards, free to a good home. Guess what, it works, and we have already found a new home for the bed!

We also have a radio appearance on Thursday of this week, on Northsound One's valentines Mr & Mrs competition. Better get revising MTB's music collection!! Keeo tuned - 96.9FM to hear how we get on!! We're due on at 4pm, with Andy James.

Time's dragging

24 weeks today, and time's ticking on...

Junior has really started to kck recently, and I had the privilege to feel my first kick yesterday. It had all the hallmarks of an unerringly accurate toe-poke, so clearly my son/daughter will be a footballing superstar. It's just a matter of where their loyalties will lie, and that, I can tell you will be over the red side of Stanley Park, Liverpool 4.

No new scans to report - the next one is at 33 weeks, so 63 days time. It seems ages away, but then again, this IS the time that the pregnancy seems to go on and on and on, and MTB seems to have been pregnant forever. I just would love to meet my protege now.

All appears well anyway, after a quiet few days with son/daughter being a bit less active, causing MTB to panic eversoslightly. Somersaults, kicks and other such acrobatics are well underway again, with Bubs being way over a foot long now, and with a 44% survival chance if born today.

We're cooking for friends tonight, and it got me thinking about all the things MTB will want when she can de-restrict her diet again.

Rare steak
Runny eggs
Pouilly Fume
Port
Nightnurse
Lemsip
Beer

Not all at once though... I hope.

We're battling through potential names now, even though we thought we had it sorted - so much time on our hands, and we're struggling with middle names, syllables, keeping family names going... I think Number 1 suits, and it's so homogenic.

Stubborn from day 1

Well, another day, another scan, or so it seems. Junior is now the grand old age of 22 weeks, and is a bit of a dab hand now at this womb lark. To the extent that (s)he's made (him)(her)self right at home, and woe betide anyone (especially sonographers) who try to enforce their own requests on him/her.

"I mean, whose business is it, looking at my heart" Junior thought, just before raising an arm and preventing the frustrated sonograher from confirming aortic and pulmonary veins are a-ok. For 25 minutes Junior thwarted her best efforts, and then for another 15 later on that morning. Diplomatically, the sonographer admitted defeat and tried to forewarn us of a stubborn, bloody-minded child who knows its own mind and won't be changed. Hmm, just like Grandad then!

Quite honestly, all that was missing was a scan photo of Bubs raising a middle finger and grinning. That's ma boy/girl! what we got was these crackers though.



And better for appearing to confirm that (s)he's got mum's nose and not mine. Phew, the genes were kind there. Just the ears to go now...

Time is well and truly ticking on, but we're quite prepared I think. A Renault Scenic will be soon appearing to replace one of the 3-door Civics, so that's another step into the world of baby sick, gurgling, midnight feeds and general menacement.

I'm getting quite excited to meet this little person - not so long to go now.