Don't worry

Still no news from the doctors about the blood tests and screening from last Tuesday. Despite my rantings and fears from last week (and before) I actually feel more at peace with the whole thing.
Simon comes across as blasé but I know he means just don't get het up about something unlikely.
Regarding me, I have heard quoted by several different people the whole, 'don't worry' verses from the Bible. One guy talked about the fact that all the time you are worrying about something you aren't actually listening, and if you aren't listening, how are you going to hear God's voice?
Also, what it is, is what it is. As the Good Book also says, 'who can add one more day to his life by worrying?' In the same way I assume that I can't change the health of my kids by worrying either.
Leave all your worries with him, because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

Simon comes home

Simon came home this evening, so, as agreed, we told the children. They were all very excited (phew). Isabel checked that she would not have to share a room (nightmare), Jonathan kept chuckling and saying 'really? really?'
I will ring mum tonight so that the children can tell their friends at the International Fair tomorrow.
Although I hate telling people (so embarrassing - Jonathan asked out loud when daddy and I had our special cuddle - oooooh), it will be nice to be able to start wearing more comfortable clothes and pretending not to be out of breath when I feel like passing out, or pretending that I always eat nine Mars bars a day.

No News

Well the doc didn't ring today. Tomorrow is Isabel's sports day and the surgery is only open until 12pm so I don't suppose I will find out tomorrow (unless I ring them).
Simon says not to worry about it. He said something like, 'There's not much difference between 1 in 500 and 1 in 200; they are both unlikely.' I don't know if he really thinks that or if he is just too mentally occupied with the meetings he has in the US or the ironing of his shirts in the morning.
What I want really, of course, is for the doctor to ring me and say, 'There is zero chance of anything being wrong with your baby, of any nature, ever.' That would be a statistic worth hearing.

Images

Forgot you might like to see some snapshots...

This is me, arching my back, admittedly, but I am also sucking my stomach muscles in as best I can and taking the picture myself at arm's length with a camera that's broken...










This is an artist's representation (OK, web printout) of the actual size of our baby today (I scaled up/down until I got 6.4cm CRL) compared to my very own palm...





And this is the wee bairn... looking much like a bean or a potato...

13week Scan

Actually it was 12 weeks plus 6 days - but who's counting?

Saw baby on screen and have a print out so it's certainly not a tumour, or at least, not only a tumour...

Singleton baby so no need to worry about having to dispose of brand new eight seater car and buy some old Maidstone&District green number...

Saw two arms and two legs plus spine and ribs so it is reasonably human in form. It was waving its arms around randomly in front of its face so I don't know if that is an omen about the disabled guy in the video on Sunday... hopefully not... also did see a mentally ill woman leaving gyn office with her helper, screaming because she did not want to (or was afraid to) walk down the three steps to the pavement.

Had my blood taken for the PAPP-A and free-HCG. Results should be back on Thursday or Friday. The odds of a Downs baby at my age is 1:380. Gynae woman said that when the odds come back they will be in that range as the age of the woman is a large factor in the calculation (the two hormone levels, the nuchal translucency measurement, my age and the baby's Crown-To-Rump length). She said when the figures come back we can either take them as they are (1:200 is a 199 chance that the baby will not have Downs') or compared to the result just for my age (Oh dear, my odds are even worse than the average for my age...)

The measurement for NT was 1.71, 1.71 and 1.73 which is within the normal range. If I was a younger woman then the odds would be good...

So I am none the wiser or more assured, really. Obviously I am assured that the baby is not grossly malformed, although 13 week scans are largely poor quality (in my opinion).

Simon is pleased and overly reassuring, obviously, because he is a man.

But at least I am definitely pregnant, and not eating confectionary in gross volumes for nothing.

T minus 1

I have my first scan tomorrow. I am terrified. I am fatter now so clearly I have a baby inside or a tumour and either way a doctor needs to see it. Other women are staring at me out of the corners of their eyes in the playground now. I spent much of my time clutching my bag to my stomach or holding Christopher over it.
Yesterday at church the pastor showed a video of a boy who, through accident at birth, was disabled and unable to talk or walk or control his muscles himself. He was in one of those wheelchairs with the head support etc. At some point in his teens he decided he wanted to run and so his father entered a race and pushed him round. Thus began their journey of competing in sporting events together: marathons, triathlons, all sorts with adapted machinery, the boy being the will and the dad the body. It was meant to be inspiring and a testament to working together etc but I just became cold with fear. I really don't think I am that strong or able to look after someone who has so many needs. So I sat in the service worrying about all kinds of deformities in this unborn child. Every birth defect I have ever heard of. Needless to say I felt/feel horribly guilty for feeling this way...
Told Simon of my fears and he did the reassuring man thing. Don't worry. Can't change anything. Unlikely. Four healthy children. Blah blah blah. My point though is having four healthy children more likely to produce an unhealthy one this time? Not that we can do anything about that.
So tomorrow I have my blood taken for the PAPP2 or PAPP-A screen (can't remember it's exact name) and then the scan of the baby. Dr Gerber will then give me a chance of Down's Syndrome for this pregnancy, given my vast age and some measurements of the bairn.
Simon flew to the US this morning, so I have had to ask my friend Annie to look after Christopher as I can't take him with me. Simon is back on Friday. Even though he has an all day meeting tomorrow I have told him that if he forgets that I have a scan I will hate him. He said, 'No pressure, then.'
I just have to pray that the baby is healthy etc and if he/she is not that I/we will be strong enough to deal with it all. Honestly, who would have children? It's an emotional nightmare.

Fat

OK, I've gone from moaning about not showing at all and fears surrounding the reason that might be, to looking obese. Clearly, I still do not look pregnant unless I lean back excessively with a pained expression on my face and a hand held lamely to my lumber region, but I do look overweight. Now in addition to the thighs the size of France, I have a belly. I look as though I have eaten too many pies. Which I have. I look remarkably similar to someone who has spent the last two months stopping at every petrol station to buy Mars bars and then eating them before the next petrol station in order to be able to get out and buy Snickers. Which I (largely) also have. Largaely being the optimum word.
I have had to go through my wardrobe (to prevent depression) and remove all clothes that are "suddenly" too snug. These are mostly blouses and skirts that I don't wear anyway. The blouses are not too tight around the bosum area (that would be normal); oh no, my blouses are too tight around the upper midriff. The actual anatomical stomach region. Is that baby? Clearly, not. It is burgers and pies and chocolate.
Hence, I can still wear my trousers (apart from the thighs and buttocks thing). I am not pregnant: I have a tumor.

Who's mental?

OK, I should be bathing the children. It is a school night, afterall and 6:30pm. However, I have been (instead) surfing the net with the phrase 'pregnant with my fifth child and barely showing'. Specific, I know. But I panic more as the days go by. I am SURE with Christopher I was massive. Admittedly, once I became massive I then didn't increase in size much for a long while. It can't all have been constipation and water retention...
Anyhow, in my search on The Google I found the following article:
http://jinjee1.securesites.net/kidsblog/
Check it out. I was beginning to doubt my sanity. Now I know that either (a) I am not alone in my madness or (b) there are wackier people than me around.
In two weeks I find out whether or not I am actually pregnant by u/s.

What is wrong with my memory?

I still think I may be making this pregnancy up. I mean, I think I was about 8 weeks with Christopher when Jonathan broke his leg and I remember not being able to fit into my usual summer clothes (it was July). I had to buy a new dress for the wedding and Anne reported later that she thought I was pregnant because my waist was so thick. Mum said she thought I was just bloated from a very heavy period (nice). Either way there were clearly physical changes present.
This time. Not. I can't fit into the jeans I bought at Christmas but they were pretty tight... Other trousers are OK but maybe I bought them post partum with Christopher - I don't know.
I just feel stupid and I can't remember how 'ill' I felt (morning sickness etc) with Isabel as it was nine years ago.
Is amnesia a pregnancy symptom?

Ten and a half weeks

Anne and Rod are here and no one has asked any difficult questions. Of course, they retain the right to use the 'Oh, I thought you were!' card when they are told about our gestational news. That is what they always say.

The house is so clean it barely resembles our home.

I upset Anne yesterday night by suggesting I made a salad when she wanted to have bits on plates. Simon and I have decided that it is akin to having two extra children. They are forever going on about things. But I will not repeat the complaints here.

Still don't feel very pregnant. I am not giant.
But I do have spots. And do I.
I am not excessively nauseous. Although I have a little nausea. I am eating a lot but maybe I always want to eat a lot but don't normally allow myself to feel hungry?
I have reduced my chocolate intake since last post with no ill side effects.
I am tired. But not exhausted.

I got a bill today for lab work. It was over 200CHF and some of the tests were antibody tests. Do I assume that they would have done some kind of HCG test routinely and thus would tell Dr Gerber if her pregnant patient was not pregnant?

I wish I knew for sure.

Nine and a half weeks

I have actually never seen that film. Maybe it is good thing
Anyway. Nine and a half weeks is what I allegedly am. Nausea is at a new level which involves eating constantly whilst not feeling in the slightest hungry. If I allow my mandibles to stop chomping, however, I feel even worse. I almost dehydrated myself on Saturday by only drinking two cups of tea (at breakfast) all day and then spending most of the day outside. I wondered why I felt so ill by 8pm.
Sunday we spent gardening and apart from nearly breaking my back and getting sunburn, I was at least enough bevereged.
So, this weeks concerns:
I am not as fat for the same weeks as I was with Christopher. Don't get me wrong, I am still gaining weight. I am eating like a monster and mostly fatty foods like breads and burgers. Yummy. I am beginning to not fit into my trousers but not because of my gut, but because of my behind.
My backside is about four times its 'normal' size. This is, of course, due to the gross amount of calories I daily consume.
Which leads me to these concerns:
Am I actually pregnant? Or am I making it up? Am I experiencing one of those phantom pregnancies that women get who have been trying for a baby for years? The nausea been less than last time too and this may be because I am only faking this pregnancy and deluding myself about the morning/all day sickness.
If I am pregnant, why is my baby not growing as much as it should? Has it stopped growing? Is it malformed in some way and thus so small? Has the placenta not formed and thus my womb is mere 50% normal size?
If I am pregnant and the baby is growing, why is is not growing quickly enough? Is it abnormal or deformed in some way and thus tiny?
Oh, and I am so out of breath all the time. I don't remember that from before. Not at this stage, anyway. Last time at 8 weeks or so I was in hospital with Jonathan with his broken leg and I don't remember being physically impaired. I remember being fat, but not out of breath or anything.
I have stopped weeing every five minutes but that maybe because I have been forgetting to drink and the weather is hotter.
I am concerned.
I wish Dr Gerber had done a scan when I saw her. I wonder if she didn't because I had Christopher with me? I had a scan at seven and a half weeks with Robert and at my first visit with Isabel (10 weeks). Now I have to wait until 20th May (3 weeks) before I even know if there is a baby inside...
At least I don't have to worry aboutt quins or quads since I have no clear womb growth yet. If there were more than one in there then I would be the size of a small bungalow already. I just have the (a) is there a child worry and (b) is the child deformed worry.
I am 35 afterall. That is ancient.

The Lies Begin

Last night (Sunday) my sister rang me to share two dreams. The first was that I was having a baby.
"Are you?" she asked, excitedly.
"You make me laugh," I replied, hoping she would change the subject whilst knowing she would not until I had categorically answered one way or another, "What was your other dream?"
"That I had skury and my gums went black and my teeth fell out."
Delightful.
We talked about the craziness of dreams and I tried to divert her talking about one of Isabel's.
"So, you're not pregnant, then?" she persisted.
"No," said I. And this was a lie. I knew it and I just hoped that she would not know it, buying me instead a few more weeks of peace before I had to begin the apologising for lying section of the pregnancy.
I just don't want anyone to know until after this 13week scan. I don't know if we will get the results on the day, or if we will have to wait, but I just feel uneasy and fearful. I would rather have all the information and be able to tell people in a way that suits me and all at once. I don't want to have to announce it now, deal with the 'comments', then call people later on and say, 'you know I said such-and-such well now this is the situation...'
It's not even as if we have plans to alter the course of the pregnancy given any particular outcome, I just don't like shocks.
And then there is the hierarchy of telling people. If there is one thing I've learnt from the previous four pregnancies is that whoever you tell first, someone gets in a mood.
When I fell pregnant with our first child, we agreed to wait before we told anyone. Then at about eight weeks, Simon happened to be on the phone to his mother and excitement overwhelmed him and he told her. Then I immediately had to ring my mother and tell her. Just in case mother-in-law announced it, and so that, even though my mother would be annoyed that she was not the first to know, I could honestly say she knew on the same day as Anne. When I rang my mother, the first thing she asked was whether she was the first to know. And, of course, I could not lie and explained the situation. I don't think she forgave me for months, if indeed she ever has. Her resulting comment was, "Well, I don't want to burst your bubble or anything but it is very common for the first pregnancy to end in miscarriage." Fabulous, really encouraging.
With my second pregnancy I told her first, after my own husband, obviously, and never felt any reward for giving her that privelege.
Parents in law visit in ten days time, by which time I will be (guestimated) 10.5 weeks gone. Should they guess and ask, I will have to lie. Again. Otherwise I will have to tell my mother also, that same weekend, before the magical first scan and also tell her that she is not the first to know and that not only is she not the first to know but my mother-in-law was the first to know. It will be terrible.
At the end of the conversation with my sister last night, she re-asks, "So you're definitely not preggers then?"
"No."
"And you'd definitely tell me if you were."
"Definitely."
I am SOOOO sorry, little sis. But you of all people should know how it is.

First Appointment Dr Gerber

So, I drive from Bible Study to Dr Gerber's office in the city, praying that I will get a parking space on the street (it is all metered parking or residents only).
I arrive, and there is one space. Right outside her office. I mean, by the consulting room window. I can only just squeeze my car in but it goes eventually, and we have to change the wheels for summer ones anyway.
The Practise has expanded and now has two ob/gyns. The consulting rooms are on the ground floor and Dr Gerber lives on the floors above with her family.
Christopher (sleeping) and I enter and find everything is EXACTLY the same as it was when I went there with Isabel, nine years ago. The only change is the nurse running the front desk is a new variety. I go through to the waiting room. The coathangers still are awfully noisy when I hang up my jacket. Classical music is still playing from invisible speakers. There is still a tiny desk and chair and colouring pencils for children to play with.
After a few minutes the nurse comes back and asks me some questions about LMP etc then she takes me behind her desk for my bloodpressure (121/77) and two vials of blood. She also weighs me (64Kg- giant and revolting and you know it's only gonna get worse). I just notice they have a new autoclave machine and a new coffee machine. Such frivilous spending.
Later still, I sit with Dr Gerber (who also looks exactly the same, just marginally greyer hair). She is still quietly spoken and allows lots of room for you to talk. (Which makes me feel like I should keep on talking as I clearly have a fear of silence.) She is smily and pleasant. She remembers me from before, good but weird, why does me remember me, was I ridiculous or stupid in some way?
I tell her about my mediation fears and she speaks gently and soothingly, saying, 'I can see you are very anxious, how it is bothering you.'
She looks up these medications in her special magic book and asks me the quantities I took and the dates of digestion. And she reassures me. All is OK.
Stupid internet sites, scaremongering. Lucky I am so level headed.
She says that these warnings are for people who take these medications for a long period of time, for chronic pain. She adds the usual caveat that no studies have been done on such things (who would do a drug study on a pregnant population?) but experience tells us they do not appear to be tetragenic.
She takes some notes on my previous pregnancies and births (clearly sad to have missed them) and nine hours later I leave the consulting room with her. We go back to Myriam the nurse who took my blood and make an appointment for 20th May when I will be 13weeks (we think). I will have a first trimester Downs Syndrome test which involves the nuchal translucency examination, blood tests for hCG and PAPP-A level. This should give me a probability for this pregnancy. I forgot to ask her if she will do AFP at 16weeks like she used to, to test for NTD as well or whether they don't do that now.
Told Simon straight away in case he would like to komm mit (he would). He is supposed to be in the US for a meeting the following day so whether or not he will come remains to be seen. Timing, ha ha.
So, reassured for the moment, but am sure I will think of something to worry about soon.

OK, now I have a reason

Didn't know what to do about this blog and felt guilty that it was sitting here doing nothing, gathering e-dust. Now I know what to do!

Two weeks ago I discovered I was pregnant. Usual signs and markers, went to Apotheke and purchased the obligatory ClearBlue, followed the (German) instructions and hey presto!

Simon was thrilled and I was worried. What would people think? What would people say? What if it is quads? What if I have to have a caesarian? What if there is something wrong with the baby (given my her-you-je maternal age)? What were we thinking?

When Simon returned from his trip (he was away, hence the jpeg of the pregnancy test as I emailed him with the information), he joked, 'So do we have to move or just build an extension?'

This is no joking matter. At the time I was 6-7 weeks gestation and already planning Christopher's bedroom layout in the event on a septuplet birth scenario. I had paper plans and tiny cutout cots and cotbeds, it was a nightmare shuffling it all around my scale bedroom model everytime I breathed out.

But, what is done, is done and cannot be undone, and we are pleased and so Boo Sucks to the world. Or something less agressive.

No sooner had I put to rest my irrational fears, in the comfort of knowing 'it will all come out in the wash'. (Where did that expression come from, by the way, as it is patently not true, especially for banana.) Then I remembered. My fever. The 39.4 degree celsius fever that overtook me and lasted for four days. My self-medicating regime with Nurofen. Agggh. Babies, even fetuses, are not supposed to be hot. Babies in-utero are not supposed to be tanked up with ibuprofen. Agggh, again. Then I remembered the terrible strained muscle in my thigh and the heavy duty NSAIDs that I had taken for that blessing. More trouble.

Obviously, an immediate internet search was in order and in no time at all I turned up multiple papers about the dangers of NSAIDs to a developing fetus/embryo in the first few weeks of its life. Marvellous. I also found research about fevers being OK (hurrah), provided that they are not above 39 degrees (boo).

Panic set in.

I knew I had to call my obstestrician for an appointment anyhow but could not bring myself to. After about four days I plucked up courage only to hear the answerphone say they were closed for the afternoon. Managed to keep forgetting for another week.

Yesterday I drove to her office after taking the children to school. Just thought I would check out the location and the parking situation. That done, I went home and rang the office. They wanted me to come on Friday. I apologised that Friday was not a good day for me (Tumble dryer fixer man coming, at last); assumed that they would reschedule for the following week.

'What about tomorrow?' she asked, '11:45am?'

So, there it was. Apppointment booked.

Only the nausea, shortness of breath and cold fear to cope with now then.

Long, long time ago

It's been a while since my last post and I still have decided what to do with my MySpace account so I guess that's a decision in itself. I have kept posting in it for the time being.
I also don't know what to do with this space. Should I have a theme - you know only write blogs about being a mother, or being a technical writer, or being an English import to Switzerland, or whatever?
I met a friend today for coffee and she stayed all day. This is the third time this has happened to me (different people) and I have to wonder whether people leave feeling like I have taken them hostage. I have no such intentions and it always surprises me when it happens. I have tried to work out anything similar in the three women but can't think of anything. The lady today, however, was talking to me about my writing. Simon has been encouraging me to write and move myself along a bit, try and get published or whatever. I am nervous at the best of times and paralysed with fright at the worst. The lady said that her sister is a wanna-be-writer and she feels exactly the same. Weird.
Have spent this evening watching home movies made by my brother in law. The children were crying, as per usual.


This is one such movie. I wonder what on earth we were thinking. Were we thinking? It has had eleven thousand hits and 20-something comments (not all complimentary). I find it just bizarre. Especially when I think back to the reasons we did it and how long it took (in the rain...) My life is strange though. Strange things happen to me and I don't know why.

Done thing?

So, should I copy and paste all my old MySpace blog entries here, or just start afresh? Feel I can't write anything new until I have decided otherwise things will be out of sequence.

New Page

When people ask me how to start writing I always say, 'Just put anything down and then edit it later.' The hardest things about writing are starting writing and ending writing. So now I have started writing this blog and the page is no longer empty and things should get easier from now on.
So long as I never have to end...