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The 'in thing'
Yes, its happening, in the little villages I cover at work the word is spreading, 'so and so had a homebirth, she said it's wonderful'. As a result our homebirths are increasing, pre-booked or spur of the moment. This is good news for me as a midwife, but as a wife it is causing slight tremors. Hubby sounded very suspicious when for the 3rd time in 10 days I phoned to say I didn't know what time I would be home 'cos I was at a homebirth and 2 days before that he had woken up in the night and I wasn't there, luckily the background noise during the 3rd phone call supported my claim to be a with a woman delivering a baby.
Today Jacks Mummy went to see the G.P about the persistant headache she's had for 10 days. Stress, was the verdict, come back in 2 weeks if it's no better. I asked when her last eye test was, 2 years ago. Apparently the G.P looked in her eyes, did he know you had your lenses in, no. Did he suggest you might need an eye test, no. I will make no comment.
Jack is now standing unaided, until he realises it, then he abruptly plonks himself down. He has four teeth, as yet he has not used them on his Mummy when she is feeding him.
On Monday I had a quiet word with a midwife I think would make a wonderful job-share, testing the water. Now I'm not sure it was a good idea. She is really enthusiastic, so enthusiastic that now I'm worried for the safety of my present job-share!
Sunday is a day for multiple celebrations - Mothers Day, Son's birthday, and a late celebration of pregnant daughters birthday, so the family are going out en masse, hoefully there will be much laughter and good food.
Tee-time-up
In from work and I'm greeted by an over-excited 5 year-old, Hubby. 'Look what I've bought, a sombrero for the golfing weekend.' Apparently they are all going to dress-up in national costumes for one round.
After dinner and its, 'I'm just 'nipping' out for an hour to discuss the golfing weekend.'
So far it's three and a half hours later and my own Tiger Woods has yet to return.
Am I becoming, or have I already achieved the title of 'Golf Widow'?
Larger than life
I've mentioned before how large pregnant daughter is, well the growth seems to be accelerating. I have attempted to 'step back', and so her last two antenatals have been done by other midwives. For the past week though I have been looking at her, and worrying. She just makes light of her hugeness, 'I'm going to explode if I get much bigger', being her latest observation. I've been lying in bed trying to organise my thoughts and banish my fears, but then on Thursday she came round and mentioned the pain she was experiencing at the top of her tummy. I couldn't sit on my hands any longer and asked if I could have a listen to baby bean, but this time out came the tape measure and her lump was given a good prodding. I was horrified. She is now 31 weeks, so she should measure 29 - 33 cms, this is the allowable variation before we request further investigations, she measures 35cms, three times I checked, three times I got the same result. We had a listen, and Baby Bean sounded happy enough so I said that I thought she was a little large so I would make a scan appointment for about 10 days time, measure her again in a week and decide then if I should cancel it or keep it. She was happy, I wasn't.
Three years ago I was caring for a friend, who is also a midwife. At 34 weeks I thought she was large and also that there was a lot of fluid (polyhydramnios), I sent her in for a scan. There was a huge amount of fluid, she was seen by the consultant, baby was scanned for problems, none detected, and she was referred back to me. Labour went well, apart from flooding the delivery room with a huge amount of liquor, all went wonderfully, and a baby bay was born. Immediately I knew there was something wrong, he tried to breath but his chest just collapsed, emergency staff were called and he was rushed to Special Care. We all tried to be very positive, his Mum and I had seen babies all the time who would appear poorly initially but perk up within a couple of hours. This was not to be. He was put on a ventilator and then transferred to one of the specialist London hospitals. Still no dignosis. During this time I was in pieces, what had I done wrong, what had I missed in labour? Later her husband phoned me a said they had discovered that baby had a diaphragmatic hernia, a congential defect where the diaphragm has a hole in it which allows the abdominal organs to enter the chest, where they fill the space and prevent the lungs from developing. At it's severest it is incompatible with life outside the womb, and this was severe. Three days later they decided to turn off the life-support, my friend phoned me and asked if I would be there, I had been there at the beginning, please would I be there at the end? I accepted and stayed with this little family whilst baby died peacefully.
Too much fluid is an indication of diaphragmatic hernia, and several other congenital abnormalities. After a sleepless Thursday night I decided to pick colleagues brains. I gave them the clinical details, not mentioning it was my daughter, and asked them what they would do. Request a scan. Down I went to scan and said 'earliest scan please', 'April'. I indicated I needed it sooner, like next week, 'you'll have to speak to the ultrasonographer, she's not in until Monday lunch-time.'
At clinic yesterday I saw 8 women who were all at the same stage, or further on, as daughter, and all were half her size. I went back to the unit and had a chat to the midiwfe in charge of the Day Unit, 'Send her in Monday' was her verdict. 'It's my daughter' I said. 'We'll see her Monday' she said, whilst putting her arm round me, 'Will you be there?' I am going to be there. I shall be so relieved when they say there is nothing wrong, I won't mind that they think I'm neurotic, at least I can stop worrying.
Sometimes.......
You know that feeling, sometimes you wish you were wrong? Went to the ODU with pregnant daughter and her partner today, all started off well. The midwife running the clinic examined daughter whilst I chatted to the staff in antenatal clinic. When she had finished she came out and said that she thought everything was okay, but that they would scan her anyway. I was pleased that she did not share my concerns and I joked about it being 'Maternal Distress', mine. We went in for the scan, yes I did gatecrash, I wasn't about to miss seeing Baby Bean 'live'. Miserable ultrasonographer, but lovely images on the screen so I ignored her and, the placenta has moved out of the way. Came back out and daughter went back into ODU whilst the midwife reviewed the scan results. When she came up to me I expected her to to confirm that all was well, instead she congratulated me on picking up on the problem, yes it's too much fluid AND a large baby. 'What now?' I asked. 'Well, I'll talk to the on-call consultant, they're in a meeting at the moment, and give your daughter a call later if he wants to see her, and I'll take some blood to check for diabetes. If they do want to see her it will be in about 3 weeks.' The impression she gave me was that she felt they may not want to see daughter and that it was very minor. I requested that daughter be cared for by a different consultant, not that I don't trust the allocated one, it's just that the other doc specialises in fetal medicine. When daughter came out she and her partner headed off for some lunch, and I headed home. Seven this evening, and daughter phoned, very tearful. The ODU midwife had just phoned her to say that the consultant had reviewed her notes, and the scan, and wants to see her a week on Wednesday to do a more detailed scan. They are ruling out diabetes as her blood results were normal.
On the one hand I'm not as worried as I was, something is happening, on the other I'm more worried because my suspicions have been confirmed. It's just a question of waiting, again.
Mothers Day was wonderful. All of us out for lunch. Lots of laughs, mainly at our little comedian, Jack. When Hubby and I were driving home I was quite emotional, we are so lucky to have such a lovely, close-knit family.
Today Jack has really blotted his copy-book, he said Grandad. Not once, but three times. 'Nanny, Nanneee', I kept saying to him, plenty of kisses, but no 'Nanny'. Mind you he says Dadda, but not Mummy, so I suppose I shouldn't be too offended.
All clear
Well, after an extremely thorough scan Baby Bean has passed his/her first physical, with the obligatory get-out clause, the 'as far as possible etc., can never be 100%' my next Grandchild appears to be fine. The extra fluid is 'just one of those things'. The size is causing concerns from two perspectives. The first is that at 32 weeks daughter has a pregnancy that is the size of 40 weeks. Doc suggested that she should give up work now, daughter says she is going to carry on another 6 weeks. Glances were exchanged between Doc and me, so Doc told her that if that is the case she is to return home from work every day,and do nothing, as she is very likely to go into prem labour if she doesn't and they would like her to get to 36 weeks. The second concern is that daughter is quite a small build and the estimate for baby's weight, at term, is 10lbs. The Doc is seeing her again at 36 weeks, hopefully not before, and mode of delivery will be discussed.
Jack is still not brave enough to take that first lonesome step. He climbs up and over everything, imitates me sneezing and coughing and finds the world an hilarious place, oh to be a baby.
Hubby is off on Friday for a golfing weekend. This time they have to wear a country's national costume, amongst other merry juvenile japes. I'm out with a friend on Friday night, and then Saturday I'm having a girls night in with the daughters watching Bridget Jones - Edge of Reason. I'm hoping for dry weather so that I can make a start on the garden, it has been sadly abandoned since my raking = bad back episode.
(I feel really posh today. Yesterday one of my ladies gave me a pressie, a selection of Clarins - gosh I've never had Clarins before, I will probably just display it to impress people.)
Green with.....
Well it could be green with a cold bug. Yes, the sniffles of Wednesday turned into a nasty full blown cold, complete with the obligatory cough, and indigestion. What was that all about? I hardly ever get heartburn, but last night Hubby became so concerned that he asked if we should go to casualty. I have to admit that one teeny, tiny part of my brain was questioning whether this amount of chest pain was to be expected with indigestion, but I braved it out and I'm still here, so I suppose it was.
Could it be though that I am green with envy? I went into work today on the understanding that I didn't have to go near any newborn babies, so I just stuck with the Mums busy growing their babies safely tucked inside. My student received a pressie from one of my ladies, and it's the best gift EVER. It's a photo of baby Grace, in a wooden frame with an inscription on it that says ' The first of many', and then the date of the birth. How amazing is that as a momento of her first birth? My student burst into tears, it is something she will treasure forever. Mind you, I don't think you ever forget the first birth you ever witnessed, or the first one you were ever 'hands on' at. Tears flow, Mum, Dad, and the red-faced, sweating, student midwife. The most amazing moment.
Not going out tonight due to nasty cold. I'm just going to snuggle down infront of the telly, swaddled in a blanket, supping a couple of Irish Coffees (the whiskey is good for a cold!!).
Paper pushing
The Lump (Baby Bean's home)
6 weeks to go
I think the growth may have slowed down, slightly. That's good news. Daughter still hasn't packed her bags. That's bad news.
Went to a final meeting yesterday about the new Birth Unit, and was given the job description for the Managers post. It is now in my paper recycling box. It took 20 minutes to read this terrifying document, and 30 seconds for me to decide that I would hate the job. Every possible contingency was covered in this lengthy, 6 pages, novelette but, just to cover themselves, the powers that be had inserted the sentence, ' work as required, to fulfill the needs of the Trust'. So really the job description is just a formality, why didn't they just say 'Anything we think the postholder should do'?