Tuesday, 24 September 2013
The 28 Week Milestone
So I'm officially now in the third trimester and a maximum of ten weeks away from meeting our little boy. 28 weeks was the next milestone on my list of markers. The next after this are the tricky milestones.
So here I am. Right at the start of the anxiety ever-increasing weeks. They've been on the horizon for a while, but now we're here.
I feel like a ticking time-bomb waiting to go off.
Just sat waiting to threaten an episode of severe braxton hicks, that start to become contractions that threaten to become premature labour, just as I did at 31 weeks with the other two.
Just sat waiting to get to, and get past, 32+4 weeks with my baby boy still alive.
Tomorrow is my next appointment with the consultant, for a growth scan, general check-up and my Anti-D injection. I haven't had a scan for five weeks and after I get over the first moments while they show me his heartbeat, I'm looking forward to seeing him. Care-wise I'm seeing somebody weekly now, after my midwife recognised anxiety was on the up a few weeks ago. It is my focus each week. Getting to the appointment where she'll listen to his heartbeat, but I'm hoping the consultant will start seeing me more regularly now as well after tomorrow, just to get me through to the end.
So near, yet so so far. Even though Alexander came home I still cannot trust me or my judgement, not really. I hate them asking me about his movements. Although I think for the most part he is an active baby, and I'm beginning to notice a pattern when he is most awake (late at night, typically!), on a quiet day I freak out. Or I wonder if he is as active as I think he is or have judged him to be. Should he really be more active? I'm always scared I'm missing something. Always scared I'm going to get it wrong.
Saturday I'm really looking forward to seeing him. The highlight of the week is our 4D scan.
With Alexander a 4D scan was booked at the last minute, in a moment of complete panic. Truly fearful he was about to die and I wouldn't have seen him alive. This time we booked it weeks ago, ready for this point in the pregnancy when I know I'm likely to start going a bit crazy with fear. This Saturday I'm going to see Zachary alive. I hope we'll see him frowning, waving his arms around, rubbing his head, and sucking and opening and closing his mouth just like we did his brother. I can't wait to see how much he looks like his big brother and sister.
A little DVD, a piece of him alive forever, seeing how he really looks like and moves. I don't want to say incase the worst happens, but its why.
This week I've gone into nesting mode. Its a response to the milestone I'm sure. I'm thinking about overnight bags for me incase I'm admitted anytime now over the next few weeks. I've sorted drawers in Alexander's room to make space for tiny baby clothes again. Clothes are down from the attic and in the midst of being washed and put away. Yes it is all very premature and I know more than most there is no guarantee he is coming home. But I want to believe he is. I want to be ready for him, however these next few weeks pass by.
So the 28 week milestone we're marking by seeing him alive. By 'meeting' our baby and showing him to his big brother, who is coming with us to the scan.
Stay safe little one.
Saturday, 14 September 2013
I've Forgotten Her...
... well not her, but I've forgotten exactly what she felt like. How precisely tiny she was.
Back in July I overcame one of my biggest hurdles yet. I held someone elses new(ish) baby for the first time. I say newish because the little girl I held was already three months old. Still small, still new, but not quite brand-new newborn.
Today I faced another step along the mastering new babies path and held two very tiny newborns; my friends five-pound-something twin boys. Proper newborns, one day shy of two weeks old. And not just proper newborns, but the very very small kind.
Very very small like my Belle, only she was even smaller again. My tiny 4lb 5oz baby girl.
I felt surprisingly mostly unfazed by the babies themselves. I instantly just felt comfortable enough to whip them into my arms for snuggles and enjoyed these small sleeping babies. I think it shows how far I've already come since my first baby in July, although I will of course acknowledge the fact they were boys and not girls makes it different mindset, and a different hurdle. Easier I guess.
They made me very broody for Zachary; my newborn-to-be to stay safe for another 10-11 weeks before I can hold him. They were an excellent, insightful, oh my goodness, introduction to toddlers and newborns! Alexander was totally mesmerised by the fact there were two babies and just wanted to keep touching them and having his own cuddles. It was actually quite stressful! Haha! Continuously reminding an almost-two-year-old about gentle hands and being on pins that he was going to pull one of the Moses baskets over as he leaned over them to watch the babies! Luckily the twins parents were much more relaxed about Xander around their babies than Jon or I were!
To say Alexander with Zachary is going to be busy is an understatement! But maybe we'll be more relaxed with our own newborn and toddler? Tips for management of those tiny days with the two of them welcome!
But of course these beautiful tiny boys have made us think of Anabelle. The closest babies to her size we've seen since we had her. Today Jon had tears in his eyes as he remembered our tiny daughter on his bare chest. I gulped that I couldn't remember enough, not in the way I want to. I'm struggling to explain quite what I mean. How can I convey that I remember and I forget all at the same time?
.JPG) |
| Anabelle: 4lb 5oz and 44cm long. |
I knew I had forgotten how really small she was. The her size was escaping me. The boys felt absolutely miniature, their clothes smaller than newborn and I know she was another pound smaller again and in smaller clothes again. I know she was small, I know she was tiny on me. Half the size again her brother was as a newborn. But I had forgotten what tiny felt like. Of course I had. I have equally forgotten how small Alexander once was. Evidence that looking at newborn clothes again for Zac and being wowed that they were once big on Xander. Just as I'll forget how little Zac once was in years to come too.
But it is so much harder accepting I've forgotten exactly how small she felt and was, because Anabelle never grew. 4lb 5oz is all she ever was or will be and I wish so hard I could hold onto that. That part of her, everything she was, all we had of her.
Why is it so hard to retain this feeling of her size in my memory?
What else will begin to fade with more time? It frightens me that we could 'lose' even more of her in this way.
Darling girl. I miss you.
Sunday, 1 September 2013
And So The Unravelling Begins
The unravelling has started.
Even earlier than in Alexander's pregnancy, which makes absolutely no sense to me.
Yesterday, fear, panic and anxiety got the better of me.
At not even quite 25 weeks.
We were having a lovely day. To make up for an abrupt cancellation of Legoland due to the sickness bug hitting the household midweek, we decided to do another of the Treasure Trail maps at the weekend. Monmouth bound and picnic planned.
We had a lovely day; apart from me becoming increasingly fearful as the day went on.
From the moment I woke up Saturday I was anxious. Obsessed with how much, or little Zachary was moving. He was quiet all day. I kept making us sit on benches throughout the trail so I could try and make him move. But Zac was having none of it. At least not in the way I wanted him to. I could feel him, the occasional little wiggles, but the big strong 'make your whole tummy jump' boots were not forthcoming. I was unravelling.
You see I don't trust myself, I don't trust my judgement. I don't trust myself to make the right call or decision at any given time. The wiggly movements don't always feel defined enough for me to count them as a 'real' movement. Because I get scared I've just imagined them. You can't imagine a boot that jolts your entire stomach. They are the ones I need to keep me together, the ones I need to know he has really moved.
Why do babies move so differently every day? Today I've been booted plenty. Is it me? Do I just stop being able to feel when the anxiety starts sky-rocketing?
By the time we got home I was becoming frantic. Panic completely getting the better of me. Knowing I was being unnecessarily hysterical but reaching the point of not being able to do anything at all about it. Past the point of reigning myself in and past the point of all rational thought. Convinced myself he was dying, but knowing I was probably being ridiculous all at the same time.
So last night, simply to calm me down and get me reassurance before the awful night hours (because night time is my worst hours for fear.. Midweek I was up for an hour between 3-4am obsessing about movements again), for the first time this pregnancy, at 24+6 weeks pregnant I phoned the delivery ward and asked them to calm me down. Which they did, told me to come in so we could listen to him to give me the reassurance I needed to know everything was ok. They were wonderful. A midwife I've never met before but she was fab and knew exactly how to handle me. I'm so thankful they are so patient with me, telling me if I need to make this call every day to get me to the end, they will listen to him every day for me, just like they did was Alexander.
I haven't even reached the 3rd trimester without this need for emergency reassurance starting. This doesn't bode well for the 13-14 weeks to come. There is still such a long way to go and I need to keep it together so much better. Stay safe little baby.
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Today Was A Milestone
Today I could rewrite this post again, word for word.
We've reached that important milestone again; 24 weeks pregnant. Viability.
Although I'm not sure what that means for us. Today doesn't guarantee us anything, I know that only too well. Anabelle was 32 weeks when she died, well beyond todays 'viability' milestone. Being viable didn't save her, it didn't guarantee her life, it doesn't guarantee us life for Zac. But I guess we have to cling onto something. So today I'm clinging onto the hope of life and the chance of life increasing now we're here some how.
I wish morbid thoughts didn't dominate me, but they do. The anxiety is ever increasing. I'm becoming increasingly obsessed with Zachary's movements, just as I did with Alexander. Today he's been quieter and so of course I work myself up, and then work myself up some more. I convince myself of things that are unlikely to be true when I think rationally. But rational thought is impossible most of the time. I convince myself he is dead or in trouble and we're going to have to relive it all again.
The more worked up I get, the less he seems to move; a vicious cycle.
Yet it is only a few days since my last growth and reassurance scan when I know he was doing well. His size and growth is spot on for his dates, unlike his brother who was already measuring 2-3 weeks bigger than his dates at this point! Blood flow is good, everything looks fine. I'm seeing a midwife Tuesday for a heartbeat check and more reassurance, from now I'll be seeing someone two weekly/weekly, as soon as I need it they'll see me daily. I'm being given so much support again, yet my anxiety is still on the rise again. Because a scan or check is only as good as the moment it is done. Because Anabelle died a week after a scan and hours after a heartbeat check. I know there is nothing else the medics can do to reassure me; all bar admit me and keep me on a CTG trace indefinitely. But that isn't and can't be the way forward, for any of us, least of all Alexander.
See, I told you morbid thoughts dominate me, but we've marked today positively none-the-less. I need these milestones to be important, to be special, to keep me somewhat sane and get me through. Mostly, today, 24 weeks is important to us not because of the 'V' word attached to it, but because it will mean Zachary will be given recognition as a person should he die. If we don't get the life we hope for, then it is important to us that Zac will now be given the same certificates and rights to registration that his sister was entitled to.
Today we decided to buy the boys their new buggy. The baby pram we bought for Belle, that was then used by Alexander is still beautiful, but I'm unable to push it one handed, and we decided that would make the job of baby and toddler management harder. So a bank holiday weekend sale was also a persuasion for new pram purchases.
We went for the Mamas and Papas Sola, in blue. I was going to get a uni-sex colour, (you know, incase for baby number four!) but in the end I couldn't resist getting the blue for my little boys. Even though there is only going to be a two year gap between the boys, we decided that the cost of a decent (fussy Mummy!) double buggy couldn't be justified for the length of time it would probably be used. We don't walk great distances as a family, mostly around a park or a few shops, and Alexander is already wanting to be out of the buggy so much, and walking much of the time when we're out and so it seemed silly to invest in a double for the sake of what could be six months or so. Xander looked very comfortable and happy in the Sola today!
Instead we're going to invest in babywearing slings, which I'm really looking foward to. I already have the Close Caboo carrier for the newborn days and planning on buying a beautiful R+R structured carrier when Zac is a bit older. Whenever Xander wants or needs to use the buggy I (or Jon) plan to babywear Zac, and will get a buggy board too for Xander those inbetween times. All else fails and I struggle with this plan then we'll look at possible second hand double to tide us over those few months or take the two buggies out with us if we know we're in for a long day for both boys.
So today was 24 weeks. The next milestone I'm aiming for is 28 weeks, just like last time. 28 weeks will be marked with our special 4D scan and meeting Zachary properly in the womb. I can't wait to see how alike or not he is to his big brother and sister. 28 weeks also marks the start of the enormously scary third trimester, the trimester our daughter died. The trimester that no longer feels like the home stretch but a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and destroy our world once more in a moment. 28 weeks will mark a maximum of ten weeks to emotionally survive through, for Zac to stay safe through. Zachary's birthday is currently planned for 37 or 38 weeks pregnant, depending on my coping (or not) as we near.
After 28 weeks? The milestones get harder and more fraught; the milestone of Anabelle's death, and the only goals are not falling to pieces and keeping Zachary alive for his birthday.
Monday, 19 August 2013
The Pride Of A Mother
In stark contrast to yesterdays post I've been reminded that there are many aspects of the Mother I am to be proud of. Sometimes we forget to acknowledge the things we are good at and the things we're proud of and contributed to our children being as wonderful as they are.
What have you done for your children that you are proud of? Please join in. This isn't boasting. This affirming that we are all the best Mother's our children could have.
Mostly I think I'm good at being a Mummy. I love being a Mummy more than I've loved doing anything else. Raising Xander and spending time with him fulfills me in a way nothing else does.
I'm proud that I laboured and loved Belle into this world. That my body endured more than I ever thought it could to bring her to us.
I'm proud that I was the one to dress Anabelle, that it was something that I did for her and not a midwife.
I'm proud that I cradled her on my chest and had the skin to skin with her she always should have had.
I'm proud that her little life has reached so far and wide. I'm proud that I've been brave enough to share our story, her story on this blog. I'm proud that we managed to raise so much money in her name and that her name continues to shine out from our family and the wonderful little girl she is recognised.
I'm proud of the family unit we are, even with our gaping Anabelle shaped hole. I'm proud that Jon and I have remained strong together, in love together despite everything that has been thrown at us. I'm proud that we're providing a stable and loving home for our children.
I'm proud that we had the confidence to take Alexander's lead and haven't conformed to a prescribed book of parenting. Taking his lead with gentle boundary setting continues to pay off for us all.
I'm proud of the little boy Xander is growing up to be and that we've left him in no doubt how loved he is. I'm proud that we love his company and that he loves ours.
I'm proud that we've raised a sensitive loving boy who gives the best cuddles and kisses. I'm proud that we've taught him to be affectionate
I'm proud of all the things we do with him. That we take him to different activities and give him a width of experiences to ensure he has a full, fun and mixed week.
I'm proud that I was able to breastfeed Xander for 17 months, because at one point I was so close to packing it in.
I'm proud that my background teaching children with profound disabilities gave me the knowledge to grasp how he has needed me to support him at every stage of these earliest parts of his development.
I'm proud of all the words he is learning now and my part in helping him to learn those words. I'm proud that I taught him to be a communicator and want to explore his world.
I'm proud every time someone random in public tells me what a beautiful lovely boy he is and shows him attention (it happens surprisingly a lot!), because he is beautiful and lovely and his happiness must shine out from him. But I know I am biased!
and for Zac? I'm proud that all my fears about how I would feel if he was a boy were unfounded, and that I already know I love him as much as I love his big brother and sister. I hope Zac's arrival will see plenty more for me to proud of for all of my children together.
So for all the guilt we Mother's carry, that weigh on us so heavily, there is so much to be proud of in the families we've created and raised too.
Lets have a positive day!
What have you done for your children that you are proud of? Please join in. This isn't boasting. This affirming that we are all the best Mother's our children could have.
Mostly I think I'm good at being a Mummy. I love being a Mummy more than I've loved doing anything else. Raising Xander and spending time with him fulfills me in a way nothing else does.
I'm proud that I laboured and loved Belle into this world. That my body endured more than I ever thought it could to bring her to us.
I'm proud that I was the one to dress Anabelle, that it was something that I did for her and not a midwife.
I'm proud that I cradled her on my chest and had the skin to skin with her she always should have had.
I'm proud that her little life has reached so far and wide. I'm proud that I've been brave enough to share our story, her story on this blog. I'm proud that we managed to raise so much money in her name and that her name continues to shine out from our family and the wonderful little girl she is recognised.
I'm proud of the family unit we are, even with our gaping Anabelle shaped hole. I'm proud that Jon and I have remained strong together, in love together despite everything that has been thrown at us. I'm proud that we're providing a stable and loving home for our children.
I'm proud that we had the confidence to take Alexander's lead and haven't conformed to a prescribed book of parenting. Taking his lead with gentle boundary setting continues to pay off for us all.
I'm proud of the little boy Xander is growing up to be and that we've left him in no doubt how loved he is. I'm proud that we love his company and that he loves ours.
I'm proud that we've raised a sensitive loving boy who gives the best cuddles and kisses. I'm proud that we've taught him to be affectionate
I'm proud of all the things we do with him. That we take him to different activities and give him a width of experiences to ensure he has a full, fun and mixed week.
I'm proud that I was able to breastfeed Xander for 17 months, because at one point I was so close to packing it in.
I'm proud that my background teaching children with profound disabilities gave me the knowledge to grasp how he has needed me to support him at every stage of these earliest parts of his development.
I'm proud of all the words he is learning now and my part in helping him to learn those words. I'm proud that I taught him to be a communicator and want to explore his world.
I'm proud every time someone random in public tells me what a beautiful lovely boy he is and shows him attention (it happens surprisingly a lot!), because he is beautiful and lovely and his happiness must shine out from him. But I know I am biased!
and for Zac? I'm proud that all my fears about how I would feel if he was a boy were unfounded, and that I already know I love him as much as I love his big brother and sister. I hope Zac's arrival will see plenty more for me to proud of for all of my children together.
So for all the guilt we Mother's carry, that weigh on us so heavily, there is so much to be proud of in the families we've created and raised too.
Lets have a positive day!
Sunday, 18 August 2013
The Guilt Of A Mother
Last night I came across this blog post about Mummy guilt over at Water Birth Please. It really hit me, resonated with me. Made me realise how powerfully so many of us are affected by the things we do, or don't do, or things that have happened to our families. How we carry this guilt and hold onto it.
It made me think about my own. What is the biggest guilt. What would be my sentence?
There is lots of guilt. Lots of guilt over the things we didn't do with Anabelle, things I wish I'd done differently. I feel guilty that we didn't go to the hospital the night she died. I feel guilty that we waited until the morning. I feel guilty that she died at all and I failed her. I feel guilty that I didn't hold her one more time in the chapel of rest. I was scared to move her body but how I wish I'd picked her up just one more time. I feel guilty that she went into the ground before I'd had a chance to touch her coffin and say goodbye just one last time.It all happened too quickly. I feel guilty that she travelled in the boot of a car alone, instead of on our laps.
Lots of guilt about how her death continues to affect our family so acutely. How I cope, or not cope with Anabelle's death. I worry all the time how her death and the person I am because of it will affect Alexander and Zachary. Even though I know there could be no doubt about how much they are loved (Xander is told multiple times day that we love him, probably told too often and smothered in our love!), I worry that they'll feel inadequate because I hurt so badly for their sister. Especially over significant days like Mother's Day. A day I just don't do well with, and wish I could avoid; only now we have two other children and it should be a celebration of them, as much as their sisters absence is noted.
I feel guilty because
we wouldn't have you if your sister had lived.
It is unlikely (although I know not impossible) that we would have had them both. We would never have planned them both if things had been different. This little boy, who is my absolute world, only exists because his sister does not. We started trying to conceive again six months after Anabelle died and was pregnant with Alexander two months later. Eight months between pregnancies. We wouldn't have planned that if she had lived. He could have been an accident, but it is unlikely.
Sometimes when I wish for her it feels like I'm wishing him away.
Monday, 12 August 2013
The Faces Of Anger
What is the purpose of counselling?
I'm not sure what I want the end result to be. I'm not sure what it is supposed to be achieving. Is it to just go for a nice little chat? I know tonight was only session two but I certainly don't feel like I'm getting any answers. Just more questions, maybe feeling more uncertain. About myself and how on earth I'm supposed to navigate through.
Counselling sessions are weird things. Half the time is spent feeling a bit nervous and awkward, not really knowing what to say. And then just as you are beginning to open up and conversation is beginning to flow better it is time to wrap it up and call it a day.
Tonight we talked about anger.
We talked about anger long past. The anger in the beginning, who it was directed at and why. The anger, the people I feel so indifferent to now. Not angry anymore, not sadness. Just nothingness and an overwhelming couldn't care less.
We talked about the cycles of anger, patterned anger that goes away and sometimes come back again. I guess for me that is usually God. Anger at the foreverness. Anger at the not understanding why this happened to our family. Anger that is was my baby taken away. These are my cycles of anger. Unfairness.
Then we talked about more recent anger. But then I haven't felt raging anger for a long time, just overwhelming exhaustion and sadness.
I don't feel angry at the moment. So she talked about the different guises of anger. That anger isn't always rage but sometimes something else entirely. She said sadness can be anger. Maybe everyone has different definitions of anger but I certainly don't really know how to address my feelings at the moment, or even what label to really give them.
Feels a bit like a PSE type lesson doesn't it. Maybe I need my own little set of emotion puppets to figure it all out!
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- Caz
- After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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