I have to balance this blog out a bit... it will get boring for me and for you if all I ever do is discuss my cervical length. So let's migrate an inch or so south of the cervix to my undies... nothing gross, I promise!
We give very little thought to the underwear we adorn. Usually, one will wake in the morning and make a fairly quick selection, perhaps taking into consideration comfort, sexiness or avoidance of a VPL (visible panty line). BUT let me tell you... if you are ever unfortunate enough to be in the position of having a male select your panties, you will soon appreciate what a major inconvenience inappropriate drawers can be.
This saga began on Sunday. I was up with my young lady at about 6am, at which point I selected a nice comfy pair of knickers and got dressed for the day. That night, when I needed to make the trip to the hospital to be checked out, I didn't bother changing my clothes or packing others, as I assumed it would be a quick stay and I would be home later that evening. As you know, I was wrong and was admitted for the night. As we were not sure at this point if I would be staying any longer, Antony went to work and was awaiting my phone call to update him. This happened at about lunchtime and he said he would bring me fresh clothing that evening. He didn't arrive until 6pm. By this stage I have now been in the same set of clothes and undies for 36 hours... not nice.
Naturally I was very excited to get changed into some fresh clothes but upon opening the bag I was horrified at my selection. Just two pairs of undies... one, although a little small for my pregnant self was reasonable, the second however... well I do not even know why I still owned them. Too big and very old and daggy, no doubt from 2.5 years ago when I was full term with Charlotte and 30kg more loveable. Still, I thought, they are clean.
Soon after Antony said he may not be able to make it up for a few days and when I reminded him I only had 2 pairs of underwear I said, hmm, I may need you to be here before I run out, which he didn't seem to quite understand the gravity of.
Fast forward nearly a week and I was becoming rather distressed at not only the lack of clean underwear, but the general lack of clean, well fitting and hospital appropriate clothes that he was supplying. I had given him a list of my requirements and advised him of what current items I owned that I would deem appropriate. I even showed him a pair of undies, with instructions of place of purchase and correct size so he could buy some more. When he arrived however, my instructions had been ignored entirely. Instead of the best and less size 8 undies in nice solid colours I had shown him, he had purchased size 10 bloomers in the most hideous floral design with the description "full briefs" and a bit of lace around the leg holes just to seal the deal. Seeing my reaction he said "I was worried the other ones might not cover your bottom properly" - thanks honey. He was trying, he really was... and I concede that it would be difficult to make selections for your normally size 6 wife when she is carrying a soccer ball on the front... but when you're stuck in hospital all you want is to put on some comfortable clean undies! Is it that much to ask?
At this point, Charlotte was being a ratbag (tired and hungry), I was irritable about the undies and Antony was frustrated and tired from a long week without me there to help out with day to day things. We had a small domestic dispute and suggested I might like to wear a hospital theatre gown for a few days until he could sort it out. Yes, those gowns that tie at the back... Needless to say, this did not help the tension already felt and he left soon after, probably a bit pissed off at me, as that is how I was feeling too.
I am happy to report that over the weekend my mum went shopping for me and Antony has also become better acquainted with my knicker needs. I feel much more relaxed now that I have a small washing basket with lots of comfy clothes to select from each day. The granny bloomers are still here, I figure that if for some reason there is a delay in Antony visiting with clean washing, they would suffice in an emergency situation, however thankfully to this point I have not had to break into them yet.
What I have learnt from this experience is that firstly, you should NEVER have old undies laying about your house because as deeply buried as you may think they are, if you ever find yourself hospitalized, your husband will surely find them. The second thing I have learnt is that it is probably better if you don't even let your husband pack your bag - be organized and have an emergency one stashed somewhere or failing that, ask your girlfriend, mother or sister to do it for you! Men just don't understand!
Monday, January 13, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Update
Just an update - I had my ultrasound this morning to check the progress of my cervix and look at bubs growth. The good news is that our baby is growing well, his current estimated weight at 24+6 days is 770 grams (or 1pd 11oz). Obviously tiny, but for this stage of pregnancy it's a good size. The not so good news is that my poor little cervix is not holding up well. Last week it was 7mm and today it is 5mm. There is just half a centimetre between my baby and the world. So from here, I will have steroids again on Wednesday to help mature his lungs and will otherwise sit tight and try to stay pregnant for as long as I can.
I am breathing a very small sigh of relief that tomorrow is week 25. The hospital nursery will resuscitate and provide treatment to babies born as early as 24 weeks however after some discussion and consideration of what the risks to a baby born this early would be, my husband and I made the decision that if our boy arrived this early we would choose to not provide treatment and to allow him to pass away. 25 weeks for us means this is the point we would allow doctors to attempt to provide treatment and so this means, from now if our baby is born, he will have a chance to live. The thought of a 15 week premature baby is not one I want to entertain though!
In other news, hospital can be moderately entertaining. I am in a single room but with a shared bathroom with the woman in the single room next door. This morning apparently she put in a complaint that the bathroom had not been cleaned properly for a few days. The midwife who she complained to asked me if I had noticed as well and I said yes, the toilet paper hadn't been restocked and there was soap residue on the floor. Upon returning from my ultrasound, a cat fight had erupted between the midwife and the cleaner, because the cleaner had "approached" the patient who complained, which irritated the midwife and so they had a little argument out in the corridor. Then the cleaner came to ask me what she had done wrong... I tried to bow out of the discussion but the cleaner was most upset. As the hour progressed, the cleaner called her supervisor and the three of them were left to sort it out. Drama drama! Meanwhile, I'm just in here twiddling my thumbs, writing my blog and eating chips.
I am breathing a very small sigh of relief that tomorrow is week 25. The hospital nursery will resuscitate and provide treatment to babies born as early as 24 weeks however after some discussion and consideration of what the risks to a baby born this early would be, my husband and I made the decision that if our boy arrived this early we would choose to not provide treatment and to allow him to pass away. 25 weeks for us means this is the point we would allow doctors to attempt to provide treatment and so this means, from now if our baby is born, he will have a chance to live. The thought of a 15 week premature baby is not one I want to entertain though!
In other news, hospital can be moderately entertaining. I am in a single room but with a shared bathroom with the woman in the single room next door. This morning apparently she put in a complaint that the bathroom had not been cleaned properly for a few days. The midwife who she complained to asked me if I had noticed as well and I said yes, the toilet paper hadn't been restocked and there was soap residue on the floor. Upon returning from my ultrasound, a cat fight had erupted between the midwife and the cleaner, because the cleaner had "approached" the patient who complained, which irritated the midwife and so they had a little argument out in the corridor. Then the cleaner came to ask me what she had done wrong... I tried to bow out of the discussion but the cleaner was most upset. As the hour progressed, the cleaner called her supervisor and the three of them were left to sort it out. Drama drama! Meanwhile, I'm just in here twiddling my thumbs, writing my blog and eating chips.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
And so it begins
So here I am - a week into what could end up being a marathon stay in hospital in an attempt to keep my baby boy safe and cooking for as long as possible. With all my spare time I have decided to start a blog, mostly for my own benefit (to kill time and as a bit of a journal). I also figured it might be an easier way for friends and family to keep up to date on what is happening (or hopefully not happening)!
Why am I here? In a nutshell, at 22 weeks I suspected I was having mild contractions and went to the hospital for a check up. An ultrasound showed my cervix to be just 15mm, when at that stage of pregnancy it is usually 30-40mm. I was advised to "take it easy" at home and be rescanned closer to 24 weeks.
10 days later, after taking sick leave at work and trying to "rest" with a boisterous 2.5 year old, I once again was experiencing mild contractions and returned to hospital for another check. The ultrasound showed that my cervix had whittled away to 7mm. And so at 23+6 days I was admitted to hospital for a minimum of 4 weeks with a high chance of staying longer, in an attempt to prevent or delay a premature arrival of our little boy.
This first week has been very up and down. I have only seen my daughter for a couple of hours total this whole week and I miss her terribly. I feel guilty that Antony has to continue working as well as manage everything at home without me. I feel frustrated that things are out of my control, simple things like choosing my own clothes rather than being at the mercy of my husband's underwear selection! I am bored and tired of being idle, although I have been well supplied with books, trashy magazines and dvd's to keep my mind occupied. I miss home cooked meals... and whilst I usually hate having to cook every night, I even miss doing that! Naturally I am also feeling some degree of anxiety as the reality sets in that there is a good chance I will not make it through another 15 weeks of pregnancy, a particularly scary thought after having worked in special care and intensive care for newborns for the last 18 months - I am too aware of the possibly consequences if our baby comes early. The uncertainty and the "what ifs" are torture, if I allow myself to ponder them too long. And so for that reason, despite the inconvenience of being here and all the complaints I could make, I am instead trying to be positive - to be grateful for each day we get through knowing our boy is a day stronger for it. I am choosing to "look on the bright side" that if I had ignored my "gut feeling" that things were not right a few weeks ago that these complications may not have been picked up on and that may have made a difference to the outcome. And although the odds are stacked against us right now, there is a chance we will make it to full term and so until our son is born, I will try to remain hopeful that I remain pregnant long enough to complain of being "huge, tired and over it." Although I hated being 3 days overdue with Charlotte, I would give anything to be there right now! Got to love perspective!!!
Why am I here? In a nutshell, at 22 weeks I suspected I was having mild contractions and went to the hospital for a check up. An ultrasound showed my cervix to be just 15mm, when at that stage of pregnancy it is usually 30-40mm. I was advised to "take it easy" at home and be rescanned closer to 24 weeks.
10 days later, after taking sick leave at work and trying to "rest" with a boisterous 2.5 year old, I once again was experiencing mild contractions and returned to hospital for another check. The ultrasound showed that my cervix had whittled away to 7mm. And so at 23+6 days I was admitted to hospital for a minimum of 4 weeks with a high chance of staying longer, in an attempt to prevent or delay a premature arrival of our little boy.
This first week has been very up and down. I have only seen my daughter for a couple of hours total this whole week and I miss her terribly. I feel guilty that Antony has to continue working as well as manage everything at home without me. I feel frustrated that things are out of my control, simple things like choosing my own clothes rather than being at the mercy of my husband's underwear selection! I am bored and tired of being idle, although I have been well supplied with books, trashy magazines and dvd's to keep my mind occupied. I miss home cooked meals... and whilst I usually hate having to cook every night, I even miss doing that! Naturally I am also feeling some degree of anxiety as the reality sets in that there is a good chance I will not make it through another 15 weeks of pregnancy, a particularly scary thought after having worked in special care and intensive care for newborns for the last 18 months - I am too aware of the possibly consequences if our baby comes early. The uncertainty and the "what ifs" are torture, if I allow myself to ponder them too long. And so for that reason, despite the inconvenience of being here and all the complaints I could make, I am instead trying to be positive - to be grateful for each day we get through knowing our boy is a day stronger for it. I am choosing to "look on the bright side" that if I had ignored my "gut feeling" that things were not right a few weeks ago that these complications may not have been picked up on and that may have made a difference to the outcome. And although the odds are stacked against us right now, there is a chance we will make it to full term and so until our son is born, I will try to remain hopeful that I remain pregnant long enough to complain of being "huge, tired and over it." Although I hated being 3 days overdue with Charlotte, I would give anything to be there right now! Got to love perspective!!!
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