Bonding
I'm all right, by the way. Still nauseous in the mornings and evenings, still horribly-easily-tired inebwteen. Still getting bouts of HG, but they don't last longer than 36 hours these days, and follow a predictable pattern which I'm so used to I just shrug and say "Oh well, here we go again," decamp to the spare bed and retch hourly all night, then ease myself onto Rice Krispies in the morning. It's only four days since the last time and as usual it's taken me a few days to get my energy back again, but it's already (nearly) forgotten.
The good bits are slightly better, slightly longer, and I still have this permanently optimistic habit of saying, "OK, that's it, that was the last bout of HG."
I've reached 20 weeks now, which is theoretically halfway. Except it isn't, because pregnancies are measured from the first day of your last period which is actually two weeks before most people conceive, and anyway you rarely notice any symptoms for at least another two weeks after that, so I won't really be halfway through the experience of pregnancy for another two weeks... but that's just me being pedantic (I'm right though).
Anyway. 20 weeks. That's when you get your anomaly scan, which we had yesterday. This is when they look for major developmental problems with limbs, organs or brain. Large issues can be visible at this time - the kind of thing that can lead to a recommendation of termination.
Around this time is also when they start talking about amniocentesis, the test which allows them to remove cells from the womb and test for chromosomal abnormalities such as Downs and Spinabifida, but also a whole bunch of others.
Another thing which happens around now is that the baby starts kicking.
I didn't want to start decorating baby rooms or making concrete baby plans until I got to this point, had confirmation that my baby was alive and well and I was unlikely to lose it for whatever reason. It's not just because I had a miscarriage last year. It's also that I can't do this again. I'm getting too old, the potential gap between my kids is getting too large, but crucially I can't face repeating this level and length of illness. So I don't get another chance. If anything goes wrong this time, I've had my chips.
Which is also why we've decided against amniocentesis. There's a 1 in 300 chance of miscarriage as a direct result of the test. It's a small chance, but one I can't face taking. Just the thought of losing this child tells me how very much I want it. And to lose it as a result of something we could have prevented... No. And what if I found out the child had Downs? I don't blame those that make a decision of termination. It's hard work, bringing up a child with developmental problems. To say that you don't want to put yourself in that position is not to say that Downs children aren't wonderful human beings. But I couldn't do it. Not now. Not with everything behind me. And even if a worse problem were identified, one of the "not compatible with life" conditions, I'd still struggle with voluntarily ending this pregnancy without the option of "let's try again". So what's the point of taking the test, taking the risk of miscarriage?
And the scan was fine. We had it yesterday and I have two photos, one with a perfect image of a curved spinal column (and not much else), and one of a tiny little foot.
And the baby has started kicking, and we know its gender, and all of a sudden it is a little person inside me, and not just an illness, and I am finally bonding. And I bought some maternity wear and a new bra and a new wok (not sure why that's connected, but somehow it seems it is), and am planning to rearrange the house and visit friends to borrow used baby stuff (I am on strict austerity measures and managed to avert my eyes from the rows of outrageously priced cute babywear in Mothercare), and... well, feeling positive.
There are no guarantees. Things can still go wrong. But that's always true. It's not a reason not to make plans. And I do love making plans.
Those fucking bastard immigrant-bashing politicians though... Grr.
___
The good bits are slightly better, slightly longer, and I still have this permanently optimistic habit of saying, "OK, that's it, that was the last bout of HG."
I've reached 20 weeks now, which is theoretically halfway. Except it isn't, because pregnancies are measured from the first day of your last period which is actually two weeks before most people conceive, and anyway you rarely notice any symptoms for at least another two weeks after that, so I won't really be halfway through the experience of pregnancy for another two weeks... but that's just me being pedantic (I'm right though).
Anyway. 20 weeks. That's when you get your anomaly scan, which we had yesterday. This is when they look for major developmental problems with limbs, organs or brain. Large issues can be visible at this time - the kind of thing that can lead to a recommendation of termination.
Around this time is also when they start talking about amniocentesis, the test which allows them to remove cells from the womb and test for chromosomal abnormalities such as Downs and Spinabifida, but also a whole bunch of others.
Another thing which happens around now is that the baby starts kicking.
I didn't want to start decorating baby rooms or making concrete baby plans until I got to this point, had confirmation that my baby was alive and well and I was unlikely to lose it for whatever reason. It's not just because I had a miscarriage last year. It's also that I can't do this again. I'm getting too old, the potential gap between my kids is getting too large, but crucially I can't face repeating this level and length of illness. So I don't get another chance. If anything goes wrong this time, I've had my chips.
Which is also why we've decided against amniocentesis. There's a 1 in 300 chance of miscarriage as a direct result of the test. It's a small chance, but one I can't face taking. Just the thought of losing this child tells me how very much I want it. And to lose it as a result of something we could have prevented... No. And what if I found out the child had Downs? I don't blame those that make a decision of termination. It's hard work, bringing up a child with developmental problems. To say that you don't want to put yourself in that position is not to say that Downs children aren't wonderful human beings. But I couldn't do it. Not now. Not with everything behind me. And even if a worse problem were identified, one of the "not compatible with life" conditions, I'd still struggle with voluntarily ending this pregnancy without the option of "let's try again". So what's the point of taking the test, taking the risk of miscarriage?
And the scan was fine. We had it yesterday and I have two photos, one with a perfect image of a curved spinal column (and not much else), and one of a tiny little foot.
And the baby has started kicking, and we know its gender, and all of a sudden it is a little person inside me, and not just an illness, and I am finally bonding. And I bought some maternity wear and a new bra and a new wok (not sure why that's connected, but somehow it seems it is), and am planning to rearrange the house and visit friends to borrow used baby stuff (I am on strict austerity measures and managed to avert my eyes from the rows of outrageously priced cute babywear in Mothercare), and... well, feeling positive.
There are no guarantees. Things can still go wrong. But that's always true. It's not a reason not to make plans. And I do love making plans.
Those fucking bastard immigrant-bashing politicians though... Grr.
___
Labels: Babies
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