Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 40+4 days
Month: 10 (That's some funny shit right there)
Trimester: 3 (or maybe 4, I need to check this...)
Fetus Age: 39 weeks
Time to Go: About 3 years ago
Size: The coffee table
Time til potential induction: 6 days

Ultimatum of the day.

Consultant Mr U: We're obviously very concerned about this polyhydramnios. We would normally induce early on.

Me: But wouldn't that cause more problems?

Mr U: Well quite frankly we can keep an eye on things that way. But you don't want any intervention, is that right?

Me: Well yes...

Mr U: That I can understand. I know you're not happy about things.

Me: Yeah, intervention just freaks me out.

Mr U: Ok well that's fine. The plan is this - you can either have an internal now to see what's happening or you can stay in hospital until you go in to labour.

Me: ...uh...I'll just get undressed now...

And to add insult to injury? There's absolutely NO action AT. ALL. Zip, zilch, nada. Everything closed up and no sign of imminent arrival.*

Thrilled.

*I hasten to add, I've been on the raspberry leaf tea for some time, I'm eating pineapples til my mouth disintegrates, I've eaten more than enough spicy food, my crotch hurts for bouncing on the ball and my feet are like boats from walking around so much. And if anyone suggests sex, well, the only sex I'll be having is with a turkey baster, thanks.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 37+3 days
Month: 9
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 36 weeks
Time to Go: 19 days
Size: Smaller than your mother.


You all knew it was coming. You all said "at the end of the day, blah blah blah, healthy mom healthy baby, yaddah yaddah". You all sat there thinking how nuts I must be trying to deliver another big baby at home. I'll even bet some of you wondered what point I was trying to make, or what was I trying to prove.

Maybe I'm just very paranoid (which is very true).

But as of today, I have given up. Scan yesterday, showed baby measuring about 9lbs in weight, with potential to gain a pound a week, but could go 20% either way. Fluid levels down from 11 point something to 9.4cm, so they're dropping and things starting to look good.

So whaddup?

They're all too scared. They actually threw a million scare stories at me during today's appointment. Mr Consultant actually said if I decided to stay at home, then he would pretty much not be involved in the delivery, and would not advocate me staying at home. Yes a MW would be in attendance if I called in, they would have to be, they have no choice (by law). But "if something were to go wrong, I would take full responsibility and no body else could be to blame".

"But of course, Mrs M, the decision at the end of the day is yours!"

I had no point to prove. I had no point to make. I just wanted to deliver my baby in an environment that I knew I would be happy in, that I would be comfortable with. Without fear of what would the medical profession would try to do if they got too close.

I am SO fully aware of all the dangers. I am also fully aware of the dangers that could happen with ANY. OTHER. BIRTH. He even said himself that shoulder dystocia can happen in a birth with a "normal" size baby. But once again, they're just pointing out as many of the factors as possible, including the fact that my fluid levels are still too high. So what would be REALLY great is if people can just be in agreement with what the hell is normal and what isn't. I can't cope being told one week that 11cm is acceptable and shouldn't be concerned until we got to 24cm. And then the following week, well actually 9.4cm is still too high, and even though the level has dropped, that's still not good enough.

So you know what? They win. This is a fight I can't keep up anymore. I'm frustrated, I'm tired. If I go into labour I'll go in to hospital. I don't want to, but after all they've freaked me out with, how the hell am I supposed to happily and comfortably give birth at home?? Christ, today when I went for my appointment, ALL the staff knew who I was and why I was there. Now I'm thinking that can't always be a good thing.

So I give up. I'm gutted. Actually, I'm more pissed off than I am upset. Pissed off because I didn't want it to be this way. I didn't want this birth to be so tainted. Maybe I should have just given up the fight earlier, but how can I do that when I'm told so many different things every time I walk in there?

They want to do another liqor scan at 39wks, do an internal and if nothing's happening, they want to induce. Pah. I think they may have to catch me first. I can only thank god that he refuses to do C/S, and has no intention of inducing unless absolutely necessary. I can't even begin to say how grateful I am for that. But that comes on the back of no home birth, and I can't even have a water birth in hospital because of the fluid crap thing. I'm starting to feel like everything is being taken away ("the decision is yours Mrs M...") and that quite simply, I'm just not going to enjoy this birth at all. I know I can't have everything. But even the few things I wanted have now gone.

I'm really fucked off. Like, they can't even give me straight answers, they can't prove anything, they don't know anything for sure and they've made me feel like crap in the process.

So that's that. I pretty much hope I go into labour before 39 weeks because I cannot, just CAN NOT face induction. And yes I KNOW that people have been induced and it's gone great. Good for you. But that's not what I want. I also understand that babies need to cook for as long as necessary. I can assure you I know that too. Remember my own mother is a Midwife. So is D's mother. But understand that I do not want medical intervention.

I don't like the way this has turned out. But I know at this point now, there's not a fat lot I can do. That's fair enough. I understand I need to go in. I understand I pretty much have no choice. My hands feel like they've been tied somehow...but you know what? I'll deliver this baby, and I don't care what anyone says, it's going to have to take one SERIOUS frigging situation before they have to intervene. There will be no C/S. There will be no medical intervention.

Any intervention will be my own doing. And it'll probably be in the form of large quantities of pineapples and fair amount of power walking. Possibly with the odd curry thrown in. Now if you'll excuse me, these Braxton Hicks are driving me batshit and I have a Poopgate appointment with the bathroom.

Some of you readers keep in touch with me which is great, but it's nice if you leave a comment here too. ;o)

Noah had his 6 week check - all is grand. Major dry skin issues, but thankfully nothing a little Dream Cream can't fix.

I'm ok too, haven't thought much about my Old Friend in a while, even though Health Visitor and Dr#1 have both declared me high risk. I guess we'll see how it goes.

Noah pooped this morning. Nothing new, admittedly, only that he sounded like an old man passing a bowling ball, huffed and puffed, then went very quiet. Then my leg became very wet. We had our first official Code Brown, saturating him, me, the duvet, the towel he was sitting on, and the burpee beneath it. And yes, he was wearing a nappy, vest and babygrow. We actually contemplated taking a picture.


(Hi my name's J and I'm a Poop Addict.)

Well it's been...an interesting week I guess. Can't really remember much of it, apart from sleeping, trying not to barf, trying to psyche myself up to practice my cello (which I still haven't done), obsessing over baby stuff and trying to decide what the hell to write in my blog. But here's something lovely:

Due Date: 01/03/2008
Week: 12+1 day
Month: 3
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 10 weeks
Fetus Heartbeat: 158 bpm
Time To Go: 194 days

Yeppers, new due date (because Mocha is a whale already) so let's say hello second trimester!! Can you say 'still feeling shit'? I'm still narked over the whlle DPA thing (cos you know, dog with a bone...) and had some fabulous news from the doc yesterday.

Doc the 2nd: I'm not happy about you carrying around your cello and bass, especially with your sciatica. And what are you going to do about September?

Me: Um...

Doc the 2nd: Do you have any numbness? Where does it hurt at the moment?

Me: Um, well not numbness, just pins and needles...

Doc the 2nd: Ok I think I'm going to refer you to physio, they should be in touch with you soon.

etc etc... And a marvellous phone call from my midwife 2 days earlier.

Midwife: Hi, we have your blood results through, and everything is fine apart from that you have sickle cell trait..

Me: WHAT?

Midwife: Uh, I'm guessing you didn't know that.

So now they're going to stab DH for blood too. Add to this the possibility of antenatal depression, postnatal depression, more blood tests and my head exploding, things are just marvellous. Oh and just in case I hadn't learnt to just ignore the phone when it rings, just had CJ on -

CJ: So, when are you coming back?

Me: Don't know, Doc the 2nd has said I might not even be allowed to play anymore.

CJ: Don't wanna ask but just wondering how come you're still gigging...

Me: Well, it's because I beg lifts from DH or risk driving and crashing my car again and because I'll lose my fucking marbles stuck in this house doing shit all and because I can only play an hour at a time anyway before I either fall asleep or supress the urge to scream in agony over my frigging leg/ass/back.

I didn't actually say those words, but perhaps used the less explicit version. You know what though? I want to go back. I think about The Situation everyday. After this Mocha is born, I would love to go back to a couple of days a week. But I truly believe they want me out the door. Which sucks donkey bollocks. I wanted to be pleased someone had called me. But that paranoia still says 'yeh it's all a load of shit, babes'.

I am, however, starting to seriously wonder if this sciatica will ever ease up, or will it just get so bad that I can't even play anymore. That scares me a whole lot. I'm still outrageously tired, yet my sleep at night...well...ha. Mocha might not be kicking me yet, but my bladder sure likes to let me know of it's presence.

And the good news for this post? Um....

Oh yeh!! If you poke my belly hard enough you can feel a uterus in there. I'm growing a small but very firm watermelon.