Getting There Slowly

Today we had a tour of the Birth Center. It was fantastic! So calm and homely; almost like a hotel room except with an imposing white bath in a corner of the room. It is en-suite with a double bed, TV, CD player, exercise ball and spacious balcony. Now that I think about the balcony, I'll be giving birth in the dead of winter so it won't be a great idea sauntering out there to walk off my contractions. Unlike a hospital you can have an unlimited amount of visitors at any time of the day. Also unlike the hospital where you get booted out the minute you're able to stand on your own two feet, you can check yourself out whenever you're ready to leave. You get a midwife to yourself. A WHOLE ONE. Not one midwife flitting between 9 different women in labour.

What's not to love about all that? Of course it's all predicated upon me being low risk or no risk. We'll find that out at 34 weeks.

The only snag in all this nicely flowing bits and pieces of my fantasy birth is we've just moved out of that council and it's a good 25 minutes drive away from where we currently are. Dh has traveled and he didn't want to leave me alone by myself because he wasn't sure how long he'd be gone for. Also we plan to move into a bigger place before Bob comes so he thought it would be a good idea to stay with his brother pending when he gets back and we find a suitable place.

I don't know how long I'll be here. I'm not sure if we'll be lucky enough get a new place in the same area so as to be able to use the services. As a result of that particular uncertainty I'm reluctant to discharge myself from there all together. Considering if I were to go ahead and have Bob there I won't be able to be visited by midwives while still living here because we will be outside their catchment area which then puts me and Bob in an awkward position. Arrrrgh! This is too much for one pregnant woman to digest right now...

We'll just have to see. In the meantime I will not to fall too much in love with the birth center and brace myself for a possible hospital birth just in case.

It won't be easy moving as I get closer to my due date, but I'd rather have it done and dusted before Bob arrives no matter how inconvenient it will be. I pray really hard that our prayers are answered, insha'Allah. There's nothing like bringing a baby home to its own home. And again being in your own home its easy to settle into a routine and to have things exactly the way you want it. 

Don't Give Up!

It's hard when you have PCOS, you feel your body has turned against you. It's even harder when you're trying to conceive and everyone else around is getting pregnant. It's annoying when people say things like, 'your time will come', or 'relax, it will happen', over and over again. Aside from the infertility aspect of it, it's equally annoying when people look at you and think you're a glutton and wonder why you just can't lose the weight and be normal like everyone else. It is really hard for us, and not just the physical aspect of it, but the psychological aspect too; depression, low self-esteem, anxiety, etc.

Everyday is a battle; a battle with your body, and a battle against those that just don't understand and are all too eager to venture unsolicited opinions.

Whatever life throws our way, I personally believe that everything happens for a reason and God does not place a burden on us that's more than we can bear. God does not make mistakes. He gives us challenges so that we become stronger and seek a deeper meaning to our life.

Having PCOS has taught me not to take things for granted. It's taught me not to envy others for what comes easy to them; knowing full well that we all have our unique challenges in life. It's taught me not to let other peoples opinions of me get me down. Being diagnosed explained a lot of things, and helped me understand myself and my body. I know now that this body has been entrusted to me and I am responsible for it. It may not always do what I want, but must take care of it to the best of my abilities.

With PCOS you can either get philosophical about it, look at the positives and rise above it, or you can chose to let it drag you down and wallow in self-pity. I choose the former.

Overcoming Infertility.
Early this year I realized something; that it's possible I may never have children. No woman wants to be told this, no woman want's to hear it and no woman wishes it on herself, but the sad reality is that NOT ALL women will be able to have children; PCOS or no PCOS. It dawned on me that what if I was one of them. Why then should I be miserable, grumpy and angry at those that pop out baby after baby effortlessly? Why should I bow to society's closeted definition of what I ought to be? Why should I feel bad when people make stupid comments and why should I look away, slightly ashamed and deflated when others look at me with pity, as if I was lacking a major appendage, when they ask how many children I have?

I remember that day clearly. It was on a weekend and Dh had traveled. When this realization came to me I was overcome with grief. I grieved that day for the child (children) I may never have. I cried my eyes out as if I'd truly lost a child. For hours, I just cried. I let out all the anger, pain and frustration. Then I dried my eyes and for the first time I understood, and it finally sunk into my head that everything is by God's Will. I promised myself not to be miserable, to approach conceiving with a very level head and to do my best, and to accept whatever comes to me. After that I was able to be happy, genuinely happy, for others whenever I heard about their pregnancy or child birth.

It's a personal journey we all have to make. For me it wasn't the end of the world. And if it turned out that I couldn't have children despite everything and I was blessed financially, I would adopt orphans instead. That was my Plan B; to enrich the lives of others rather than wallowing in what I didn't get. I've always loved children. It breaks my heart to see them suffering through no fault of theirs.

I am thankful for all I have now, for Bob who we wanted and waited for but never saw coming, and I always pray for those that are trying to succeed in their quest for motherhood. May all you Cysters be blessed in your efforts; whether it's seeking a healthier life or trying to have a baby.

"May God grant us all the serenity to accept the things that we can't change, the ability to change what we can and the wisdom to know the difference."

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Times Two

It seems when you are with child everything is twice as hard. I've had a nasty cold/flu thing going on for the past week and oh boy, let me just say I've never felt this way before. This would be the second bout of cold since Bob came along. The first one was equally nasty. Normally I bounce back quickly from my colds. Because what I normally do is douse myself senseless with Night Nurse and let my body fight the battle. After a couple of days I'm back on my feet.

Obviously I can't drug myself, so I have no choice but to let it run it's evil cause. The first night it snuck up on me, which was on a Tuesday, I woke up with a throat that looked like a bunch of footballers had been running around them in their spiky boots. I rushed to the hospital only to be told off by the doctor. After waiting for over an hour, she said she only agreed to see me because I was pregnant, otherwise I can't just waltz into the hospital and expect to be seen; unless I'm bleeding, running very high temperature, suffocating or the baby is not moving. She then sent me on my way with paracetamol and advice to drink lots of warm tea with lemon and honey.

Every week we read stories in the papers about people who visited their GP's only to be told 'its nothing'.  Unfortunately it turns out to be something and next thing they're dead, like cancerous pain in the leg that is diagnosed as muscle pull. Or we hear about people dying from illnesses that could have been treated early because they were afraid to cause 'a fuss' by going to see their GP. Also I've been told by my pregnant friends that things like this are bound to happen. They've warned me not to be afraid to go to the hospital; that it's better to be told off and have peace of mind than to sit at home worrying to death and putting baby at risk. I completely agree. So didn't mind being told off by her one bit.

After all I'm not a hypochondriac. Truth is I felt really horrible that morning. My throat closed up and I couldn't even swallow water. I couldn't imagine making it through the rest of the day feeling that way.

That was last week. For the past few days I've been having bouts of coughs that end up with me doubled over in the bathroom throwing up. I'm sure I've consumed the equivalent of a truck of lemons, and still, I wonder when I'll start to feel normal again. I feel sorry for Bob, who kicks me when I cough hard. Plus when I sleep I'm off for about 9 hours, I just hope he's not starving because I don't even have an appetite. I'm frightened to death every time I wake up and don't feel him move. 

Forgetting Labour

My major fear about pregnancy was not losing my figure, developing unsightly stretch marks, the eventual post breastfeeding saggy boobs or even the acne specking my skin. It's the labour, specifically the tearing that has got me trembling in my bones. I have a very short un-flexible perineum which tears from time to time whenever we do the deed after going for weeks without it. So I figured with a huge baby popping out it can't be too happy about taking all that pressure.

My fears were allayed today when the midwife said that for most first pregnancies tearing is very common, but massaging the area beforehand helps mitigate the extent. It was a relief when she said also that they prefer women to tear on their own than to issue episiotomies because self-tearing healed better and faster. They only perform an episiotomy if the baby is in danger and they have to deliver it quickly.

I've concluded that they don't call it labour for nothing. It's painful quite alright. At the same time the pain is not so great that a woman decided after that to never have a child again. Between my grandmother, mother, MIL and sister they have 24 children, all born naturally without medication and pain relief.

For a first time mother I'm fussy and worried to death not knowing what to expect. I'm equally aware that no amount of reading can prepare me for labour, natural though I want it to be. I can only cross the bridge when I get there. What I am discovering as I go along is that at that moment it will feel like the worst pain in the world, and I might scream for them to cut me open and pull the darn thing out, but once it's over, I have a strong feeling I'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about. Even if I had 3^rd degree tear (God forbid) and I was in pain for weeks and months, I'd still want to do it all over again half a year later.

Even now my early morning sickness feels like a distant memory. It doesn't feel as horrible as it was then. If you'd asked me then to rate my discomfort I'd give it 10 out of 10. Right now I'd probably give it 2 out of 10 because I can barely remember how bad it was.

I've stopped freaking out because nature has a way of taking care of these things. I just need to trust my body, train it as best as I can and leave it to do its job. Women have been giving birth for thousands of years, my aunts would pop one out and be back on their feet the following day with house chores, and Bob's your uncle!

PCOS and Pregnancy

I thought I should touch briefly on how my PCOS and pregnancy have been getting along.

My acne is back full force. Not just on my back, chest and face, but it seems to be popping up on my tummy and thighs as well. I’ve always had acne, and it went away pre Bob, but it’s really bad around now, worse than when I was a teenager with hormones dribbling down my nostrils. At times like this I wish I were dark skinned. I can only hope after my hormones get back to normal the black spots will lighten up somewhat over time.

-I’ve become more hirsuite on my chin, chest and belly. I read that it’s normal for hair growth to increase due to the pregnancy hormones, but when your tummy looks like Chewbacca and you’re pulling hairs off your chin, you’re not exactly going to be high-fiving random strangers with glee.

-Weight gain was happening slowly and now seems to be speeding up on its own accord. I’m only now back at the weight I was pre Bob. I lost 8kg early on due to morning sickness and general lack of appetite. I still try to eat healthy as best as I can, but when I started getting headaches from eating low GI foods, I realized I needed to step up my carb in take. The one thing I’m happy about is I’ve been able to tolerate my morning oats. That’s really helped with constipation and putting some food in my belly when I couldn’t stand much else.

-My glucose tolerance test to detect gestational diabetes is going to take place next month. That determines whether or not I get put back on Met. Fingers crossed.

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Midwife appointment is next week Thursday. Loads of stuff to discuss, particularly my extremely short to non-existent perineum that’s been giving me sleepless nights. I’ve been having nightmares about tears, fistulas and every horrible thing that could go wrong during labour. Considering I want a completely natural childbirth I want this particular issue cleared up before I’m cowered into an epidural.

Antenatal classes also start next week. Yey!