Daily Life
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Monday, September 24th, 2007I peed in a cup. I waited an hour and a half. Then the consultant spent three and a half minutes telling me that a VBAC was entirely possible seeing as I had achieved one already and that was it.
The upside of the appointment is that she said I don’t have to go back to the hospital unless I go overdue (I’m pretty sure I went several times last pregnancy) so I will not have to endure such another waste of a morning.
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I find it really interesting that those who commented on my last post and those I have spoken to who have had c-sections have found them (me included) to be such a positive birth experience. I know that there are a lot of positive vaginal (sorry, awful term, but can’t think of another less awful term) birth experiences but there are also a lot of awful ones (mine included). I know that a VBAC is the right thing to attempt (best for mine and the baby’s health, especially if the consultant has said it is safe) but I’m already dreading it (but in a bury-my-head-in-the-sand kind of way) even though it’s 25+ weeks away.
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Finally, FINALLY, the sickness has stopped. The nausea remains, sometimes as bad as ever, but my appetite has partly returned so I am at last eating something other than chocolate cake and this baby stands a chance of getting some basic nutrition. And I no longer fear throwing up in worrying places, like the grocery store, or at preschool, and that helps. Not to mention the fact that the people who work in these places no longer need to look at me with that wary look like I’m a shoplifter.
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So you’d have thought that I would be feeling pretty good, right? But I feel really low. Lots of stuff going on, Matthew may be away a lot more over the coming months, we may be moving (hassle), we may not be moving (just as much hassle because we need to), homeschool is not working, I’m tired and Harry is going through a phase - of being frightened at night, frightened of being left in the car when I pop back inside to get my bag even though he can still see and hear me, crying several times a day and annoying the hell out of his brothers. I need a break from him and as usual I can’t help but feel that school might be the answer, especially as things get set to get more busy and tiring around here in the next few months.
I find it hard to judge if I need help for these low periods. I’m just coming to the end of ten terrible weeks and I’m feeling physically very low. Is that, combined with a few weeks of poor sleep and my eldest son going through this ‘tricky’ phase enough reason to be feeling so low? If I’m sitting on the floor dissolving into tears because I’ve had enough, that makes me think I should be doing something to deal with it.
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Why I need to feel better: hyperemesis gravidarum (or severe morning sickness to you and me)
Monday, September 17th, 2007One of the hardest things about hyperemesis gravidarum or severe morning sickness is having to cook. I have survived on the most nutritionally deficient food I can think of because a) I can’t face cooking anything and b) I can’t eat anything I have cooked anyway. However the boys still need feeding and every day I have to prepare meals that makes my stomach heave with displeasure.
So on Friday I made egg fried rice with left-over sausages and bacon. Those three ingredients alone are enough to make me throw up even writing about them. But the children need feeding so I persevere.
The smell from the frying pan is terrible. I cook the rice but when I stir it I notice a piece of black rice. I fish it out and look at it in horror realising it is not black rice but a fly. Unable to believe a fly has got into the rice pan - which has a lid on it - I look again.
I feel so unwell, I can’t start cooking it again, I think in desperation. I know any minute I am going to be sick again.
I look at it, willing it to be a piece of black rice. But it is definitely a fly.
Well, the fly’s out now and the rice will have boiled away any germs.
I can’t avoid throwing up so I disappear to the bathroom for a few minutes. When I get back I don’t feel any better.
I look again at the fly.
Shit, a wing’s missing. That means it must still be in the rice.
My legs are shaking with nausea. I want to get supper on the table and the whole cooking process over with. My type-A personality, which would have thrown out the rice and possibly the pan in disgust on any normal day, deserted me when the morning sickness started.
I review the situation. A wing is in the rice. But the rice has boiled for a long time and any germs will be dead, I reason.
So I serve it up * **.
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*I’m not proud of myself.
** The boys are still alive.
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Posted in Pregnancy, Daily Life
I’m calling a moratorium on weekly parties
Wednesday, September 12th, 2007Another day, another party.
Parties for school age children tend to exclude parents and siblings of the children invited (understandably or it would get a bit crowded) but this time we were all invited and Harry bounded in with only a moment’s hesitation and played happily for the entire time we were there. Much nicer for him. Much nicer for me.
I think for now we will stick to parties where we are all invited and hope that his confidence about being dropped off comes gradually. He’s hardly going to want me accompanying him to parties when he is a teenager so the independence has to come at some point, right?
Besides, the parties were averaging one every week or two and I’m not sure a child needs that many invitations - or that much sugar - and I’m not sure his mother needs that much money disappearing from her purse in the form of presents or spending her Saturdays being a taxi service when we could be out and about having fun.
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Maypole
Monday, August 6th, 2007After weeks (months?) of rain, flooding and feeling like it was mid-winter the weather finally looked kindly upon us for our midsummer village celebrations.
I so wanted my children to be part of this but they were “weren’t allowed to” because they don’t attend school here. It’s just another childhood tradition my children won’t get to experience because they are not at school.
Never mind that my son said “I’m not doing that, it’s dancing round a pole holding girls’ ribbons”. He has much more sense than me.
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Five weeks pregnant
Sunday, July 29th, 2007Tomorrow I am off to the hospital to have a biopsy done on my breast. The invitation letter is peppered with phrases such as ‘these procedures may take some time’ and ‘bring a friend for companionship and support’. Nothing in the letter makes me feel happy about going.
As they are doing the preliminary ultrasound I may just cheekily get them to check and see if that baby is doing its thing in my belly. The nausea has returned (good news) with a vengeance (not so good news) and I spent Friday and Saturday on the sofa doing my best to control three rowdy boys and stop them from tearing the house apart with boredom. I was infinitely glad I had not gone to BlogHer even though I felt like I was missing out on a great party: morning sickness and a conference in a confined space with lots of people you are trying to at least vaguely impress, lots of alcohol, lots of eating, lots of partying, well it doesn’t really mix. Not when all I feel like doing is curling up on the sofa with a sick bowl.
Last night I felt very low. I can’t imagine what I am thinking, having a fourth child when I have three such small children and a husband who isn’t here a lot. I am facing nine weeks of severe nausea/vomiting which can only partly be helped by lying down - preferably sleeping - and also by eating constantly (I would be worried about all the weight I am about to put on but I am so unwell I actually don’t care). Friday the children pretty much watched television all day. They thought Christmas had come early. ‘I like that you’re having a baby,’ Harry said, giddy with the effects of all that television. The two eldest then proceeded to argue about which of their favorite television characters they should name the baby after.
So I’m off to google ‘horizontal parenting activities’ to gather some ammunition to get me through the next few weeks. Because if I suggest they play car races on mama’s blanket while she rests here ‘just for a minute more’ they are going to start throwing the cars at me.
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Posted in Pregnancy, Daily Life
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