Saturday, January 24, 2009

From past to present

Over the past few weeks I have thought of my dead children more often than usual. While on holiday in Sedgefield I spent some time weeping at Zoe's memorial tree. Today I realised that my eldest, had s/he lived, would be in Grade 7 this year - the same age as one of my favourite nieces (I know, you're not supposed to have favourites, but I do). My life would have been so different had either of them lived.

Feeling the movements of the current little one has been great, except when it hasn't. Hasn't moved, I mean. It would seem that the little one has turned again, so that it either isn't hitting the uterus wall, or is hitting an area that is less sensitive. With that, the DBTs have returned. Again, I am resorting to telling myself that as long as there's no blood, the baby is fine. It's a poor substitute for movements, but it's better than running off to the gynae every 5 minutes.

The past week has also seen a possible new development for Born Sleeping. Friends of ours lost a baby a while back, and now the wife is starting up her own social work practice at a GP clinic. We're looking at possible ways to work together. We're also putting together a brochure that we're going to distribute to local gynaes and ante-natal clinics. This gives me hope that Zoe's death might bring about something useful to others... good out of bad.

I was re-reading my preggy books... to see how much baby has grown, and it's now as long as my hand. Imagine that! Still not capable of life out of the uterus, though. I'm really looking forward to the next scan in 2 weeks (5th Feb), where I'm really hoping to see more, and be reassured that all is well.

The other fact I was reminded of is that my blood volume is now double normal, and my heart is working twice as hard as normal to ensure that all my vital organs and my skin get supplied with enough. That explains my breathlessness at the slightest exertion!

I've been doing my Wii exercises to build up strength in my legs (for labour - I plan to give birth as vertically as I can) and to try to keep my hips together (the pubic symphysis problem has returned with a vengeance, but I'm determined to beat it through exercise so I don't have to wear that nasty belt contraption). However, the difference in breathlessness between the middle of Dec and the middle of Jan is marked. I can only manage one or two exercises before I have to sit down and breathe hard for a few minutes. I feel completely unfit - think beached whale, except I don't look like that yet.

I've noticed that I've stopped looking fat (my tyre has been shifted up to my ribs, so it's not that visible to anyone else now) and I now have a proper preggy belly. Yay! No more need to hide - people no longer need to worry about making a mistake in diagnosis if they comment.

With this change in my belly, I've also noticed my belly button has changed shape again. My poor skin! I really feel so sorry for it. It goes through the most awful stretching when you're pregnant, and (in my case anyway) never really recovers.

Oh yes, and the leg and foot cramps have started. I meant to go to the health shop this weekend and get some tissue salts, but I thought it more important to spend time with my family. We went to Kirstenbosch for lunch today. It was wonderful walking (slowly! for me and for Nellie!) through the beautiful gardens (how much water must they spend on their lawns to keep them that green in the height of summer?????) and laze under the trees, doing bollemakiesies down the hill (yup, even preggy mom did one!) (umm... in English they are.... tumble turns, I think?), watching the pheasants and guinea fowl, paddling in the brooks, and examining every statue we could find.

But this wonderful day makes me think that actually, weekends should be 3 days long, not 2. Tomorrow will be church, my family for tea, Graeme's family for lunch, then a brief rest before the bath/ bed routine, and then the new weeks begins. Really, I could use another day to catch up on chores that don't happen during the week. But I'm grateful for the 2 - some people get only 1, and others none. I'm grateful for the one beautiful day of rest I've had this weekend. May that be the indicator of many more to come.

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