A Nice Cup of Tea

I miss this blog

2007-08-15T23:08:00.000+01:00

I know, I know, I said I wouldn't be posting here any more, but do you know what? I miss this blog. Over a couple of years I felt like I built up a small readership and an smaller group of commenters. Hey, you could even call them friends.

My new blog is, by comparison, a lonely place.

I've noticed from the tracker on this site that I still get a few visitors here, although I hardly ever update it so I don't know what you're looking for. Something like this, perhaps.

Well, you wait in vain I'm afraid. There will be no more posts here. None. No more. Really. This is the end.

You are, of course, welcome over at my new home, but as I've said previously I can't publish the address on here. If you think you might want to keep up with our developments (five and a half months old now!) then drop me an email at treggles[at]hotmail[dot]co[dot]uk and I'll send you the details.

So long, and thanks for reading. If anyone is.

Mastisis

2007-07-08T22:23:00.000+01:00

Need I say more?

Two years ago.

2007-06-22T23:50:00.000+01:00

According to the kitchen calendar, today is the "longest day". Two years ago exactly it certainly was the longest day for me.

What a lot has happened since then.

2007-06-05T06:10:00.001+01:00

Hello! Flicker here! Just wanted to remind you that Mum and Dad (and me!) have started a new blog. You can read all about how I'm already sleeping nine hours some nights, and see lots and lots of photos (they do like to point that camera at me!). If you fancy a look, Daddy says you need to ask for the address. I'd love to tell you more, but for some reason I'm not allowed. Rules, rules, rules... is that what life's all about?
Flicker xx

More good news in Blogland

2007-05-26T13:36:00.000+01:00

Another new arrival! Do pop in and send your best wishes to another blogging guy, who writes under the name of A Dad Someday. I guess he'll have to change his name now!

Birth story: Mrs T's version

2007-05-20T17:36:00.000+01:00

Anyone who likes birth stories will be interested to know that Mrs T has just posted her version of events on our new family blog. It's written a darn site better than my sprawling effort.

If you've not asked me for the address yet see my previous post for details.

The story continues... elsewhere

2007-05-09T22:49:00.000+01:00

One of my few remaining readers (well, I haven't exactly made this scintillating reading lately) has asked how Flicker is getting on now that he's over two months old. Well, I could answer that. I could say how amazingly wonderful he is. I could tell you all that he is the best baby there has ever been. I could talk about how proud I am to be seen out with him, and how I love it when strangers gather around to coo. I could mention that a couple of nights ago he slept from 9:30 until 5:00 - which certainly counts as "through the night" in my book. I could also mention the difficult things, like how he hates his car seat and any long journey is now really hard work as he'll start to object after as little as 15 or 20 minutes and will not calm down until we've stopped and got him out for a cuddle.

I could say those things.

But you'll remember that some time ago I announced that once Flicker was here, then this blog would come to its end. And Flicker is here. So I won't say any of those things here, because this is not the place for them.

However...

Mrs T and I have started a public blog together. Real names, photos, everything. There's not much on it yet (well, we have been rather busy) but as well as recording what Flicker's up to we're hoping to record our thoughts, feelings, and emotions as we learn to be a family. If you've been a regular reader/commenter here, I may be able to invite you to my new blogger home. There will be some ground rules (mainly: no referencing back to anything you've read here!) but if you'd like to come along, email me on treggles[at]hotmail[dot]co[dot]uk (or there's a link on my profile) and I'll let you know.

(Note: Mrs T doesn't know I've said this here yet. She may veto the idea and then you'll just have to find me for yourself.)

No drugs; no stitches.

2007-04-30T13:05:00.000+01:00

Right, let's face it, I'm never going to find the time to update this from home, so I've logged on at work. Ah, stuff 'em. (Don't fret - it is lunchtime.)

So - back in the birthing pool...

Mrs T was relaxed. Very relaxed. Eventually, we decided perhaps a little too relaxed, as her contractions had started to slow down and become less severe. And so, several hours after entering the pool at 5cm dilated, they had another probe - and see was only 7cm. The midwives (for our independent midwife friend V had now arrived) were clearly disappointed, and we all agreed that it would be better for Mrs T to get back onto dry land.

They suggested that she could carry on for another couple of hours to see what happened, but that they'd then want to put her on the drip to speed things up a bit. We quickly decided "why wait the two hours?", and agreed that they should put her on the drip. Can't remember what the stuff is in the drip, but it's the same stuff they use to induce. (Mrs T's labour isn't on record as having been induced, merely "augmented" - which sounds like a musical term to me.)

Very quickly the contractions changed. She was kneeling on the bed leaning forward against the raised bedhead and has since described the difference: it wasn't that they were harder or more severe - just that they came without any warning. Gas and Air, previously rejected as doing nothing, became Mrs T's friend. Contractions came thick and fast, and Mrs T became increasingly desperate for the whole thing to be over. Our friend V was, as we'd expected, absolutely brilliant. She was working with the midwife, but kept getting up tot the head end and looking Mrs T straight in the eye, explaining what was happening and how well she was doing. She'll probably never read this, but we've been very sure to tell her just how much she did for us that day.

Mrs T needed to be on even firmer ground, so we got her of the bed and onto all fours on the ground. I sat on a chair at her head, and she leaned - very heavily - on my lap. When contractions came, she pulled on my shirt with all her might, bit my belt hard (thankfully my belt), and went through the whole denial thing. She really didn't think she had the strength to go on any longer, and had started to cry "I don't want this baby". By this stage - when we weren't even sure if it was still Sunday, the Midwives were getting excited, and encouraging Mrs T to keep at it. "the doctors will be wanting to get involved and we don't want that, do we", they were saying. And, although Mrs T had suggested cutting it out of her, sucking it out, pulling it out, whatever, she remarkable found the determination to finish what she'd started.

And finally, at 11:12 pm, Flicker made his entrance.

We’d asked for skin-to-skin contact as soon as possible after the birth. Mrs T was exhausted and needed to get back onto the bed and recover a bit from the shock of it all, so they wrapped Flicker and gave him to me initially. What an amazing feeling. A baby in my hands only minutes old. My Baby. Our baby. As soon as she was ready, we unwrapped him and laid him on Mrs T’s chest, where he stayed while she birthed the placenta and they checked her out. She’d torn a tiny amount, but only internally and no stitches were needed.

Although it seemed to us to have gone on all day and been bloody hard work, it was officially a normal, average labour. But even so, she did it without any pain relief aside from the pool and gas and air.

Mrs T. What an amazing woman.

Now, where was I?

2007-04-16T22:11:00.000+01:00

Oh, yes: back at the hospital...

We knew we'd gone in too soon, really, but Mrs T was struggling to cope with the contractions and couldn't bear the thought of having them in the car once they'd got any more severe so we'd made our way. Needless to say, once we'd got checked in (we'd phoned and checked that one of the delivery rooms with a birthing pool was available) the contractions calmed down somewhat, but once we were there we knew we were in for the duration. In fact, they'd calmed so much that the midwives decided against an internal examination yet. And so we were left to cope, and they popped in and checked on us every now and then. I tried to keep note of the times, and contractions were eventually coming about every seven minutes, but only occasionally lasting a minute. After what seemed like an age, they agreed to do an examination, only to find that Mrs T was dilated only about three centimetres. (Excuse me if I'm a bit vague on the timings, but some of it was quite a blur.)

As they don't let you into the pool until you're four centimetres, Mrs T was left with no pain relief at this stage. Gas and air was available, and she tried it once or twice but didn't feel it made any difference, and she was feeling pretty nauseous anyway and didn't want to make it worse, so she just gritted her teeth and got on with it. Sitting on a birthing ball leaning over the end of the bed was one of many positions she tried, and the one which seemed most effective, so there we stayed until (I think) early afternoon when they examined her again to find five centimetres. Yay! There followed some debate whether we'd be allowed to use the pool, as the ward was very busy and by using the pool Mrs T would be monopolising one of the midwives, as they're not allowed to leave her in it without one. Thankfully we were given clearance, the pool was quickly filled and prepared, and with much relief she climbed in. And "relief" is exactly the right word: Mrs T felt so much more comfortable in the water - she was amazed and how much better it was, and how much more bearable the contractions became.

And there she stayed for several hours...

And now it's time I was in bed, so the next - and hopefully last - installment will have to follow later.

The story will continue

2007-04-10T23:09:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the delay - I can't believe it's been over two weeks since I started telling Flicker's birth story. Every day I think "I'll post the rest of it soon", but still I've not found the time.

Soon, I promise!

"I do hereby promise to make my daddy finish the story very soon."

The story - part one

2007-03-26T10:15:00.000+01:00

Started composing this post about a week ago and still haven't got it finished, so thought I'd publish this as "the story so far"...

Three (nearly four now!) weeks ago...

Mrs T's Mum was here for the weekend, helping us with the big spring clean in preparation for Flicker's "forthcoming" arrival. She arrived on the Thursday, and we spent all day Friday and Saturday sorting and tidying, scrubbing and polishing. Mrs T's brother was also here, working on some of his songs (and getting out of his flat while his girlfriend entertained some of her friends). Mrs T went to bed at about ten, tired and getting ready for one more day's solid cleaning on the Sunday. Her Mum was tucked up in the guest room, her brother in the sitting room. I was still up, wasting time as always on the internet. About midnight I heard Mrs T get up and go to the loo; fairly routine stuff in late pregnancy. Then, twenty minutes later, she called through. "T! T! Come here".

She was seated on the bed, looking a little bemused. And very calm, it must be said. "I think somethings happened." And sure enough, she was sitting in a puddle; her waters had well and truly broken. (Thank goodness we'd already put a waterproof mattress protector on!) That was the first we knew something was going on. She'd felt no contractions, no other signs that labour was imminent. We decided to call V, our independent midwife friend. She suggested we phone the hospital, and thought the hospital would ask us to pop down in the morning to be checked out. The hospital said we might as well come in straight away...

We were expecting to come straight back home, but packed our bits into the car just in case, and had to let Mrs T's Mum and brother know we were off so they didn't wake to find us missing.

At the hospital they checked Mrs T's blood pressure, urine, and fluid, with no sign of any infection, and Flicker's heartbeat, which was steady at 150. Sure enough they sent us home as expected, but the policy is that once your waters have broken they'll induce labour after 72 hours if things haven't started by themselves. We now knew were were having this baby this week. In the car on the way home, Mrs T began to feel something. They'd started.

We got home (to find Mrs T's mum and brother had been up doing the dishes!) and went back to bed. V had said that if possible we should try to get some sleep "between contractions". Yeah, right. Not a chance. She couldn't stay laying done, let alone asleep. Up onto all fours every ten or fifteen minutes or so. I started timing them, making notes - getting excited. By half past five we couldn't hang on any longer, and phoned V again. (She's a very good friend!) Contractions were 45-50 seconds long, about seven minutes apart - if I recall correctly. She said we should get back down to the hospital, and warned me that she might not make it in time to help Mrs T deliver as she was teaching all day.

Back to the hospital...

(To be continued...)

Update coming soon...

2007-03-19T22:48:00.000Z

Sorry folks, I've been planning a post with Flicker's birth story and all the loveliness that's happened since, and still haven't managed to get round to it. Priorities, you see: they change somewhat.

So here's another picture to keep you interested.

Flicker learning to hold his daddy's hand

Hello world

2007-03-07T23:23:00.000Z

Still not time for the full story, but here's a quick picture to whet your appetites...

Flicker at about two hours old

Coming early! Now updated!!

2007-03-04T02:54:00.000Z

Waters have broken twenty minutes past midnight. Just back from hospital (2:45am!) - everything's as it should be. If no more signs of labour (or any concerns) they'll induce Wednesday morning. We're hoping Flicker will be with us before then...

I'll update as and when I can.

***UPDATE***UPDATE***UPDATE***

Just home from hospital again at 2:26am on Monday. The short version: after coming home as mentioned above, we were back in hospital by 6:30am and baby Treggles was born naturally at 11:12pm - a 6lb 13oz boy. The long version will follow when I've had some sleep. (And when I have some time!)

Twenty-two

2007-03-03T01:00:00.000Z

I did some counting. Twenty-two.

That's how many muslin squares have appeared in the house. Twenty-two.

Remind me: how many babies are we expecting?

"Full term..."

2007-02-28T23:14:00.000Z

Having known all along that 40 weeks was when Flicker was "due", I now discover that Mrs T is considered "full term" at 37 weeks. That means Flicker could now, in theory, appear any day. Now, what was I saying about being ready?

We have done some more about getting ourselves educated. Our friend in London who's an independent midwife runs a range of classes, and last weekend we attended her "preparation for birth" sessions. Brilliant. She really knows her stuff. In one morning I felt we learned more than we had in three weeks with the NHS, and we had the whole weekend to learn more. I'm so glad she's agreed to be with us for the birth if at all possible. It's a real privilege as we couldn't afford to hire her professionally.

And now we're just back from three days away at a very fancy country house hotel with its own spa were we'd booked in for our last break as "just the two of us". (I gather such a holiday is becoming known as a "babymoon". Never heard the word myself.) It was a lovely relaxing break - which was the whole point - and we had plenty of time to discuss a few things we still needed to think about and make plans. (Regular readers: remember that name I mentioned? Looks like it's still an option!)

As things are potentially imminent, we need to pack Mrs T's hospital bag. That's the next job. In the meantime, we did our first lot of baby washing today.

It's daft the things that can bring a tear to your eye...

Tiny socks. On our radiator.

Terminology lesson updated

2007-02-23T00:02:00.000Z

This is a cot

This is a crib
(Or cradle, but that's quite an old-fashioned term.)

This is a moses basket

Well, that's what we call them in England, anyway. Some recent comments suggest that things might be mixed up somewhat on the other side of the pond. (And Bassinet is not a real word.)

Updated: I'd forgotten about the word cradle.

Fully educated

2007-02-21T09:50:00.000Z

We’ve completed our three sessions of “Parentcraft” classes (that’s ante-natal classes to you and me) run by the midwives at our local hospital, so we can confidently say that we now know exactly what to expect of this whole childbirth malarkey.

I hadn’t been sure we’d need to go to the classes, and was concerned beforehand that we’d feel out of place as we’d surely be among the oldest present. Our town has one of the highest rates of teenage pregnancy in the country so I really thought we’d be twice the age of many of the mums attending. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised: there were ten couples at the first session, and not only were most of them around our ages, seven were married. (The group did dwindle somewhat over the three weeks, and last night at the last final session we were five couples – including one expecting twins.)

So – what did we learn?

Well, nothing new really; just all the stuff we’ve already been reading about, with a few local specifics (like where to park when you come in for delivery!) and opportunities for questions and worries. Last night we moved on to post-natal care, breastfeeding and a little about nappies. To give us an idea of what to expect to find in a full nappy, the student midwife had kindly brought in three full ones demonstrating different kinds of poo at different stages of feeding. And passed them round. How lovely.

Thank God she’d made them up out of various foodsfuffs! (Marmite, pesto, and korma sauce if you’re interested. I’m sure the real things will smell somewhat… different.)

It was nice to get to know a few others in the same boat as us, and we arranged a "reunion" for when all the babies are a couple of months old. I do hope everything goes well for all of us.

Prepared?

2007-02-13T08:59:00.000Z

There is a cot in the house.

This is beginning to feel weird.

Updated: picture of a cot added for clarification. It's one pretty much like this one.

Stuff

2007-02-05T22:50:00.000Z

People keep asking if we’re ‘prepared’ for flicker to arrive. Hmmm, let me think... Emotionally? Hardly. Practically? That’s what they usually mean, and the answer’s still no. We have bought a travel system and car seat. That's it. We’ve bought nothing else.

Okay, so it’s fair to say that other people have given us a few lovely things (babygrows, soft toys, photo albums and other assorted bits of ‘stuff’), but we certainly don't feel ‘prepared’ in any practical sense. People even ask if we’ve decorated “The Nursery” yet. The what? Oh, you mean the guest room. Well, no. Why would we do that? When Flicker’s old enough to let us know what colour he/she wants it then we’ll think about it*. We have just been offered a cot, which we’ve gratefully accepted even though we’ve not entirely decided how much use it’s likely to get. (See earlier post for co-sleeping suggestion.) I guess we should get some nappies in at some point, too...

When I took the blog down after Christmas, I lost my list of blogs from the sidebar, so I’ve just re-instated it from various sources. Some of you are on there only because you’ve commented on my posts and I’m hoping to catch up with your blogs at some point. If you know you used to be on the list and I’ve missed you, do let me know. (Also if you’d rather not be listed.)

*Actually, that bit’s a lie: we are planning to decorate it in the summer. But when people do ask, that’s what I tell them.

The Power of Prayer

2007-02-01T10:31:00.000Z

A couple of months ago, I bumped into Edith while walking through town…

Edith: We’re so pleased about you and [Mrs T]. We’ve been praying for this for years!

Me: Um, well, thanks, but wouldn’t it have been nice to ask whether we wanted children before praying for it?

Edith: Huh?

Me: Well, if you believe that prayer works, which I know you do, isn’t a bit presumptuous to pray for something for someone else without thinking to ask whether that person wants the thing you’re praying for. Did it never occur to you that we might not want children?

Edith: (Looking a little uncertain whether I’m toying with her or not.) But we always thought…

Me: Well, thanks for asking.

A slightly awkward pause, then I grinned at her, and she smiled (with relief, I think!) and we went our separate ways.

I was toying with Edith, but only to some extent.

And then this week I saw Edith at church, and she asked if everything was okay with Mrs T, then whispered to me “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am, Edith.”

“Oh, good. You really had me worried after we met in town.”

Oops: I hope I didn’t toy with her too much. I did have point though, didn’t I?

At last: a new post

2007-01-25T23:29:00.000Z

Hi folks.

Sorry I've been away. Regular readers will know that I had to take the blog down for a bit and it's taken me a while to work through deciding which posts to re-publish and edit. (The blog is now limited strictly to stuff about the pregnancy and isn't allowed to digress into family stuff and other areas.)

So as it's been a while since my last "new" post, what's been happening? Mrs T has finished at work and is able to relax and enjoy being pregnant. She's finally started to let herself read about pregnancy and try to learn something of what she'd let herself in for. (Birth seems a pretty daunting prospect!) We've signed up to "Parentcraft" classes with our local midwives (what used to be called antenatal classes) and also for a private "Preparing for Birth" class run by an independent midwife in London. A 30-week scan showed everything as it should be.

We had Three in a bed recommended to us by very good friends whose son has shared their bed since day one. (He's now about 16 months and is beginning to use a cot-bed.) I was intrigued and have nearly finished reading it through; it's a well-researched and passionate argument for co-sleeping, and suggests that babies who share the family bed do better in just about every area. They sleep better, feed better, grow more confident, become less clingy and more. And the parents sleep better, too, allegedly. Sounds pretty miraculous, and our friends did admit they've found it had work but "wouldn't want to do it any other way". Reading through, I've become increasingly enthusiastic about the idea, although many clearly have big reservations. I'll maybe try to post a fuller review some time. Mrs T certainly isn't sure about the idea; she's going to read the book when I've finished it.

In the meantime she's been reading The Baby Whisperer solves all your problems, which seems a much more mainstream parenting guide - although I say this before I've read it myself. (Mrs T did notice that it doesn't reject t he idea of co-sleeping outright, which many books seem to do.)

And we've continued with the excellent The Rough Guide to Pregnancy and Birth, reading it week by week the pregnancy has developed. We've read on to the end now to get a clue as to what's ahead!

"I'm fat"

2006-12-29T21:47:00.000Z

Been back home a few days after our Christmas break, been meaning to post, never quite gotten around to it...

Mrs T just came in to see what I was doing, and when I said I was about to update here she said, “Tell 'em I'm fat”. So there you have it, straight for the horse’s mouth, as it were. Mrs T is feeling fat. In fact, people keep telling here she’s “carrying neatly”, whatever that means.

We’ve gone and made our first major purchase for Flicker: a Bugaboo Cameleon in black and orange. It’s way, way too expensive (one of the most expensive things we've ever bought, behind only the house, the car, and the computers) but we just liked everything about it.

Not thought about a cot yet (eBay calling, I suspect) but we did discover over Christmas that the swinging crib Mrs T was in as a baby is still kicking around in a family friend’s loft. Be nice to see it in action again!

Flicker is dancing away like a pro. We’ve had a check-up with the thyroid specialist and he's happy with the way things are going. The only frustrating thing about the hospital is that they've lost another blood sample so Mrs T had to have a third test done, the results of which we still await.

A happy new year to anyone who reads this.

Nearly bedtime

2006-12-14T22:31:00.000Z

Should be in bed by now, and am over-tired. To post or not to post?

Oh, go on then; just a quick one.

Mrs T is into her last week at work! Today was her last Thursday for a year. She’s beginning to realise how much she’ll miss her colleagues and I expect next Wednesday could be quite an emotional day.

Flicker is still moving around pretty constantly. (Okay, probably not constantly, but that’s what it seems like at times.) One midwife mentioned that Mrs T “ought to be feeling the baby move at least ten times a day”. The first time she tried to keep count she’d reached ten before breakfast.

There’s more to say, I'm sure. But I really should be asleep.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... and we're off.

2006-12-06T21:46:00.000Z

The countdown is well and truly under way. Mrs T has been marking off the days left until she finishes at school to start her maternity leave for a couple of weeks now, and we've reached just ten days to go! And, boy, will she be glad. School and pregnancy at the same time? Daft idea! It's just exhausting her.

On top of the school stuff, she's also been struggling with sciatica for a while, which is getting her down. I guess Flicker's putting some nasty pressure on a nerve somewhere. There's no point going to the doctor (says she) as he'll only give her some painkillers and she's determined not to take anything while pregnant. I've been trying to persuade her to let a Physiotherapist friend to try to work some magic, but she's not managed to get in touch with her yet.

Flicker's dancing is getting more energetic, and Mrs T really isn't sure whether she likes it or not. Especially as he loves to get going just as she's eating, and it makes her feel horribly queasy. I must admit, I don't think I'd be too keen!

Tap shoes, please: size minus four months

2006-11-30T22:08:00.000Z

Another week, another post.

I think I felt some movement on Tuesday night. I know I did this evening!

Mrs T had already noticed that Flicker often moves when he/she hears music. (A couple of weekends ago, I was playing in the house and she felt a lot of movement.) And on Tuesday night I was playing in a brass ensemble at the ‘end of term party’ for the orchestra I play with. While other groups were playing, I had my hand on Flicker and Mrs T kept saying, “there it was”, “did you feel that?” and so on. And I might have felt it, but to be honest still couldn’t be completely sure I wasn’t just feeling Mrs T's reaction to her feeling it.

Tonight, though, things progressed: I was cooking dinner when she called through “Come and see this!” I assumed she meant something on the telly, so wandered through — only to find her with her belly out and an amazed look on her face. “Watch!”

And sure enough, bits of her tummy were suddenly sticking out here and there. I gently laid my hands on, and undoubtedly felt it for myself at last. And then watched it some more. And loved it.

Flicker — you’re a dancer already.

Growing

2006-11-21T22:43:00.000Z

Mrs T is growing.

In size, certainly. Only a couple of weeks ago people were saying she didn't look as pregnant as she is, but now there's less escaping it. She's bought one pair of smart maternity trousers which she's living in at work (and slobbing it in jogging bottoms the rest of the time) and a few nice tops that are designed to grow with her and we hope will see her to the end. Most of her usual blouses are somewhat stretched now (and she hates it when the bits between the buttons gape open, so many are relegated to the “can't wear for a few months” pile).

But there’s another thing that’s growing: her excitement about Flicker. She’s feeling him* move every day and is now, I think, beginning to find it quite reassuring. She’s still not keen if he’s too active when she's teaching, or eating, or trying to get to sleep, but I think I can understand that. I found her looking at the latest scan picture the other day and she admitted she often stops and looks at it. She’s even chosen a colour scheme for the guest room.

On Saturday we went to a local “Baby and Toddler Fair”. I guess I was more keen on the idea than Mrs T, but we went along and pottered around for a while. It was pretty much as I expected - lots of local traders and organisations touting for business - and we chatted to some about baby signing and toddlers’ cookery classes among other things. Inevitably there was a small range of buggies and prams, so we had a good look at one and a long chat with the shop owner about the range. Although I’ve been doing a lot of reading about them, Mrs T has just let me get on with it as we're not planning to do any nursery shopping until the new year. But when we got home, she said to me, “Do you know what? I'm quite looking forward to looking at buggies now.”

When the time comes for the buggy shopping to start in earnest, I’ve found that one of the big online retailers over here has a big showroom which is actually pretty nearby, so we’re planning a trip to try them all out for size, weight, foldability, manoeuvrability, handlebar height, and of course style. It pretty much goes without saying that the ones I like so far are among the most expensive on the market. Do’h! Can you guess which ones?

* Usual disclaimer: for “him”, read “him or her”.

Babyface

2006-11-15T21:40:00.001Z

Back to hospital again today for the repeat scan following last week. Flicker was still not in an ideal position but the radiologist* did manage to get the views of the heart he wanted. And then he got us a couple of pictures including this one which has a pretty good facial profile. According to Mrs T's colleagues, Flicker looks like me.

(* Last week I called this chap a "sonographer". Today I checked his name badge, and it actually says "Senior Radiologist". Not the faintest idea what the difference is, but I thought I ought to get it right this time!)

Yesterday

2006-11-14T14:36:00.000Z

Mrs T.

Home from work: 5:40pm
Asleep on sofa: 6:00pm
Awake enough to eat dinner: 7:00pm
In bed by: 7:30pm
Fast asleep: 8:05pm

What was that I said about her having more energy?

Bits and Bobs

2006-11-12T23:10:00.000Z

Nearly a week since my last post. I don't know. It feels like there's quite a bit to mention, so I'll do a "catch-up", but I guess I'll still forget some stuff. Now, where to begin..?

Flicker
Flicker seems to be coming on in leaps and bounds. Since Mrs T first felt him move a week or so back, she's been feeling him several times a day and is beginning to get used to the idea. A couple of days ago he was kicking away while she was eating, which she didn't enjoy, but she's not so squeamish about the whole movement thing now. I don't think I have felt any movement myself yet. Mrs T has had her hands firmly on her tummy while she's feeling movement on the inside and assures me that it can only very rarely be felt from the outside. We're back down to the antenatal unit on Wednesday for a repeat scan so the sonographer can measure the heart, so we'll get a sneaky extra peek at him! (Or her.)

Mrs T
Transformed! Since she was allowed to up her Thyroxine she's like a new person. Well, she's back to feeling herself again. The extreme of tiredness that had so drained her is gone, and she's able to work effectively and have energy for other stuff as well. We've started going for evening walks (so she gets at least some exercise) and even went out socially with friends last night. The nausea of a few weeks ago is long gone.

Names
The name discussions continue. Girl's names are less of a problem, as we have more common ground, but we're assuming Flicker to be a boy (unless proved to the contrary!) so are concentrating our discussions on boy's names. (Hence referring to Flicker as "him" earlier: it just sounds nicer than "it".)

The name under discussion the most remains the old family surname I mentioned previously, which continues to grow on me. What I hadn't realised is that Mrs T has been mentioning it to a few people to start to gauge their reactions. So I've now started to do the same, and have so far had only positive comments. (Having said that, we could tell that our friends last night weren't sure what to make of it.)

One of our nephews has a unique name, so I asked his dad how people have reacted to them, and to him. They've had "almost universally positive" reaction (I didn't ask about the 'almost'), and are sure they made a great choice. I told him about our possibility and he said he liked it. It's "very distinguished and proper old school", apparently.

Mrs T's reservations are generally about how other children would react. (And that, at a very young age, that they may have difficulty even saying it.) I do see what she means, and respect her opinion as a teacher of young children and therefore someone greatly experienced in observing children's relationships, but I also feel that you're an adult for an awful lot longer than you're a child. I'm trying to see Flicker not only as a baby and then a child, but as a person. (I'm sure she is, too.)

Preparations
Still no 'active' preparations, but we've now started to consider redecorating the guest room to await young Flicker's arrival, and to properly look at out finances to see where we need to tighten things. We've made contact with the local branch of the NCT but are yet to book in to ante-natal classes. We've discussed nappies (aiming to avoid disposables apart from travelling); feeding (breast); prams, pushchairs and carseats (what a variety!); and much more.

Enough for now! I must try to post more often and then they wouldn't get so rambling. To bed!

Scan report

2006-11-06T23:32:00.000Z

Today we had our 20 week scan. It's also known as the 'anomaly scan' and I'm delighted to report that Mr Sonographer could find no anomalies. Everything is tickety-boo, as I believe the phrase goes.

Checklist:
Spine - yes
Arms - two
Hands - two (fists)
Legs - two
Feet - two
Head - one (phew!)
Brain - all present and correct
Kidneys, stomach, miscellaneous abdominal organs - check
Face - hiding
Sex bits - didn't want to know
Placenta - positioned nice and high.

(God knows how he could make all this out from what mostly looked to us like random blobs around all over the screen, but hey, that's what he went to college for.)

The heart was pumping away solidly, but because Flicker wasn't being especially co-operative (ie, lying face down as low as possible) he couldn't quite get a clear enough view of all four chambers to tick all the boxes, so we're going back next week for another go.

Mrs T is feeling much more energetic since the new dose of Thyroxine kicked in, and is now allowing herself to get excited about the whole thing. It is exciting, isn't it?

Meet the family

2006-11-03T20:37:00.000Z

When we first announced Mrs T was pregnant, a friend asked whether our cats were being clingy. At the time we hadn't noticed any changes, but a couple of months on we most certainly have.

We have two cats, sisters from the same litter, who were eleven years old in the summer. As kittens they loved each other and spend a lot of time together, but when we moved to our present home they each took their own territory and don't tend to like each other's company very much (unless they're ganging up against another cat in the garden). The both love Mrs T and like to be with her, but usually if one's in the room the other will tend not to come in. For the last few weeks, however, they have both been desperate to be her favourite. They will fight for the privilege of sitting on her lap and are now often to be seen sitting either side of her, even vaguely tolerating the other being so close, although always on the look-out for the opportunity to get even closer. In other words, yes: they have become the most hopelessly clingy cats in the world.

One thing they've never liked is children; quite what they'll make of Flicker we have no idea.

In other news, Mrs T told me tonight that she felt Flicker moving for the first time yesterday, and again today. Go Flicker!

And yet more "other news": I finally got around to contacting our IVF clinic today to let them know we wouldn't be needing their services after all. (We were booked in for an cycle in January.)

Half way!

2006-10-31T15:08:00.000Z

Well, folks, we've made it to the half-way mark. Yay!

Looking ahead

2006-10-30T22:59:00.000Z

We're trying not to get too carried away with looking ahead, as there's still some way to go before Flicker is due to join us, but we are beginning to make some plans. Our guest bedroom will become Flicker's, but we have no plans to redecorate it as yet. I guess we'll need to pick up a cot at some point (eBay here I come!) but apart from that the room is fine as it is to start with. (Future guests will mean we'll we'll have to decamp into the sitting room for the night so they get a bed.)

People ask whether Mrs T is planning to go back to work. Well, yes. But we do have what we hope is going to be an excellent plan. She starts her maternity leave in January (early for a march 20th due date, but better for school and for her) then takes a whole year of work, re-starting school in January 2008 part-time with a job-share. And at the same time I'm going to go part-time so we share the childcare between us. My work is flexible enough that it shouldn't be a problem, and I'm really looking forward to it. We have lots else to look forward to before we get that far, though.

I can hardly believe that this pregnancy reaches the half-way mark tomorrow. Time surely flies.

First baby gift

2006-10-29T21:40:00.000Z

Today we received our first baby gift: a special "BABY" bag containing two babygrows, some socks, and a "Baby on Board" badge for Mrs T to wear. All courtesy of one of my relations who had invited us and the rest of the family to Sunday lunch.

It was lovely to be together with family. Our hosts had invited us all specifically in celebration of our pregnancy; they said they wanted to do something for us ever since we told them the news. It does seem a bit early for baby stuff yet (we're not planning to do any baby shopping until after Christmas*) but it was very lovely of them to want to get us started! The babygrows look huge at the moment: according to Kaz Cooke's book, Flicker is only about 18cm long at the moment. (We will find out more detail about Flicker next Monday, when we have the "20 week" scan. And, no, I still don't want to find out the sex.)

We had another couple of "name" chats over the last couple of days, triggered by the fact that Mrs T read my recent post on the subject. I'm not sure she'd realised how much her suggestion had grown on me, but I was right to assume she'd pretty much put it out of her mind. Having spoken again, she's now been suggesting possible second names that could work with it, so it is certainly not out of question. It continues to appeal to me more and more, but we still have a few months before we need to make a decision so anything could happen.

(* although I do still keep looking at pushchairs online!)

Daunting Consultation

2006-10-27T09:35:00.000+01:00

It was a bit daunting to enter the consulting room to be greeted by a crowd of doctors when you’re expecting just the one. The guy in charge introduced himself as a Consultant Endocrinologist, and went on to introduce two Consultant Obstetricians, Registrar, a senior Midwife and a Student Doctor. I hadn’t realised that Mrs T’s was categorised as a “High Risk” pregnancy, but because Mrs T has a wonky Thyroid she’s had extra blood tests during pregnancy, and we were called in for this appointment with the Endocrine team yesterday.

She’s lately been saying “surely this tiredness can’t all be pregnancy”. Over the last ten years she’s got used to upping her dose of Thyroxine whenever she feels extra tired, but didn’t want to do so whilst pregnant before seeing a doctor about it. So she was really pleased to be told almost straight away that the last blood test had shown very reduced levels of the hormone so she should indeed increase her dose. Lets hope that the extra Thyroxine building up in her system soon starts to have the desired affect. Mrs T seems sure it will.

One of the Obstetricians then worked his magic with a heartbeat monitor, and we got to hear Flicker pumping away like a good’n. It’s the first time we’ve heard that and it was smashing. (Especially as Mrs T hasn’t to her knowledge felt any movement yet). And for him to conclude with “That’s fantastic” was excellent.

We’re booked in for another blood test in two weeks and a follow-up appointment with the team two weeks after that (to see how the Thyroxine levels are going). If things have settled down we’ll revert to being a low-risk pregnancy and our care will be back in the hands of the midwifery team.

Go on Flicker! Keep on pumpin’!

PS: As I've moved onto Blogger Beta, I gather that some users might have a problem posting comments. Sorry about that. (I understand that you can still sign in as "anonymous".)

Her suggestion, not mine!

2006-10-18T21:47:00.000+01:00

Having mentioned names earlier, I popped to the library and picked up a couple of books of "babies' names" for us to peruse. I've been reading one for a few days, and even if I wasn't in the process of trying to come up with a name for our own child I think it would make really interesting reading. It goes into quite some detail about the history of names and the connections between them.

But the odd thing is no matter how many names I read about and consider, one keeps coming back to me. And the very odd thing is that Mrs T, who you'll remember favours traditional and popular names, suggested it. And you certainly won't find this one it in any book of names.

It is, in fact, an old family surname and has previously been used as middle name. We'd already thought we might well use it as a middle name ourselves if we have a boy but when Mrs T mooted the possibility of using it as a first name I was amazed. I wasn't sure at first, but the more I think about it the more it grows on me. The trouble is, of course, Mrs T has already started to go off the idea.

(Name edited out - see below.)

Pros:
- Unique.
- Distinctive.
- Personal.
- Family connection.
- Works well with our surname.

Cons:
- Unique.
- Shortened forms not ideal.

Note: I had originally revealed the name in this post, but have now removed it in case it helps us to be "found" later on if we do use it.

One thing at a time

2006-10-16T12:17:00.000+01:00

Okay, so it appears to be true that pregnancy does funny things to a woman’s brain. We’d heard friends talk of having “pregnant moments” of forgetfulness, and Mrs T seems to be following suit. She’s forgotten where she’s put things, forgotten why she went upstairs, and more. But yesterday she was trying to tell me something, I changed the subject slightly and we started talking about that instead. Moments late she could not, for the life of her, remember what she’d wanted to say.

“That’s what happens to me at the moment,” she said, “I can only think about one thing at a time. I hate it; I don’t now how you blokes cope.”

I think I should take that as an insult, shouldn’t I?

Back to normal...

2006-10-10T08:41:00.000+01:00

…As soon as we can work out what normality is in the first place. Mrs T’s “three days of no nausea” were just that: three days. Sunday evening she felt horrible again, and was extra miserable because she’d thought she was over this part. She still wasn’t too good last night.

We have started tossing names back and forth in an attempt to see if there’s any common ground. I can see it’s going to be quite a task. I grew up with a name that’s not exactly unusual, but isn’t common either. I was always the only in my class at school (probably the only one in my school, in fact), and have almost always been the only one anywhere else. I remember way back in primary school realising that when the teacher said “John” or “Matthew” or the like, two or three kids had to look up and see if she meant them. And even back then I thought, “poor kids, fancy having to share a name”.

I printed the lists of the top 100 babies’ names in the UK from the Office of National Statistics (boys and girls) and the two of us privately went through the 2005 list and crossed out those we wouldn’t fancy, then compared lists. There were a fair few we both left in, but the closer to the top of the list you get the more likely your are to be sharing a name with your peers, and I just wouldn’t want that. Mrs T’s favourites are much more clustered near the top.

The discussions will continue. For the next few months, no doubt.

Three clear days

2006-10-07T22:04:00.000+01:00

No nausea for the past three days! Progress indeed.

Soooooo tired

2006-10-03T22:27:00.000+01:00

Not a lot to report really: just wanted to check in to let you know that all is well as we reach the beginning of week 17. Mrs T's sickness is now coming in shorter 'waves' (rather than whole days as before) but her tiredness hasn't let up. She took one day off work last week, and has been pacing herself differently since. It's easier now that everyone knows she's pregnant.

I've had some lovely responses at work and at church. I wasn't at the church members' meeting last week, but have heard from several people that our minister (who occasionally comments here as "d") shared the news from the front. He was sharing "church family news", and listed the seven people who are pregnant at the moment. I'm told he left us till last and gave us a dramatic pause - and that the announcement was greeted by a cheer! Aw, shucks.

We're hoping that the tiredness pases to some degree soon. All we've read tells us that Mrs T should be beginning to 'bloom' and feel as healthy as ever during the second trimester. Is that really true? (I've also read that she should go through quite a randy phase as some point. Please let that be true...)

Out of the mouths of babes

2006-09-27T21:40:00.000+01:00

Tee hee. I said Mrs T would have some questions from her class, and I was right. Again. That's twice I've been right recently; I must be on a roll.

"Are you having your baby tomorrow?"

"How are you going to get your baby out of your tummy?" (To which she gave the inspired answer, "I don't know , Oliver, I haven't done that bit yet.")

And when she mentioned that the baby wasn't ready to come out yet, and had to stay in for a while yet because it wouldn't survive "outside", one child asked, "because it hasn't got any shoes or clothes?"

Don't you just love 'em?

Cat's out of the bag

2006-09-26T23:19:00.000+01:00

(Oh rats: I just typed a nice long post and blogger quit on me. I've seen others complain about that but it's the first time it's happened to me. Here we go again...)

Mrs T's first task today was to go around the school telling all the staff she's pregnant. She of course got a wonderful reception to our news, including our first "I knew it!". I guess there had to be at least one response like that. Apparently her colleague had noticed that Mrs T was getting "chesty" (which hasn't escaped my attention, incidentally). At the end of the day the children in her class were given letters from Mrs T for their parents, letting them know she would be going on maternity leave after Christmas, and that she will be sorry to leave their children part-way through the school year. A couple came straight back to the classroom with congratulations; one said she had to read it several times to check it said what she thought it did. I expect tomorrow she'll have a few more comments, and may have to answer some questions from the children, too!

I popped up to school early, partly to use the car, but mainly because I wanted to wander around and see what people's response was like. I had lovely greeting: many congratulations, several hugs, and one who jokingly asked, "how did you manage that?". I gently took her to one side and explained that when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they have a special cuddle...

There was a big meeting a church, so I guess the news will have got round there pretty quick, as we have phoned quite a few from church over the last couple of days.

We've been told by no end of people that we'll make "great parents". Quite what they base such an assessment on we've no idea, but it's very encouraging to be told such a thing!

Reactions (3)

2006-09-26T09:35:00.000+01:00

I’ve been really enjoying these last few days, as we’ve started to let the news out and watched or heard people’s reactions. I had said to Mrs T that we’d need to be ready for people to ask whether it was planned or not, but she couldn’t imagine that people would be so presumptuous as to ask such a personal question. For once, I was right! I think she’s been really surprised at the sort of questions people have asked.

My brother (he of the “No WAY!” response) asked straight away whether we’d been ‘trying’ for long, and wasn’t satisfied with my (rehearsed) response of “sort of” and pushed for more. He specifically asked when we stopped using contraception, and I mistakenly let out “well, that was about five years ago” which surprised him. I’ve since persuaded him – I hope – that we were “open to the possibility” all that time, but just wanted to see what would happen. That is the gist of what we’re telling people, but in his case I expect he’ll try to get more details as time goes by.

Several others have asked about whether it’s “planned” or not, and our stock responses of “sort of” or “the time seems about right” seem to suffice for most. One friend I told last night said “It took you long enough!” to which I replied that we thought we ought to get to know one another first.

Award for the best questions so far go to Mrs T’s youngest brother. His first response to the news: “Are you just having the one, or are you going to have more after that?” which is perhaps getting just a touch ahead of us. (Though for the record I ought to mention that we won’t be planning to stop at one.) His next question floored us: he asked if was mine!

(He has since claimed it was a joke, and I think we can believe him.)

Reactions (2)

2006-09-23T08:14:00.000+01:00

My Mum's not up to driving too much at the moment and the two-hour journey to us would have been pushing it a bit, so I went across to collect her after work. On the way back we somehow got on to the subject of how babies are brought up nowadays compared to in her day, and though I was grinning inside I managed to keep quiet. It was half eight by the time we arrived home, so I didn't leave it too long before asking how she fancied being a grandmother again. I had predicted she would say "I want to cry!", and indeed that is exactly what she said! Hugs all round once more.

We were going to leave phoning brothers until the next day, but I couldn't wait any longer, so got straight on with it. First, my oldest brother. I chatted for a while, and he eventually asked, "to what do I owe this honour?" (for it's rare for me to phone just for a chat) so I told him. "No WAY!", he exclaimed. He was utterly gobsmacked. In fact he told me that just the day before he and his wife had been chatting about the family and concluded that they've "always known" that we would never have children. Nice to be able to surprise them! By chance they've been visiting my youngest brother so I was able to speak to him, too, in the same call. I think he was pretty surprised to, though less emphatically so!

Mrs T then phoned her brothers. I can't really recall what their reactions were so I'll have to post again later when I've spoken to her after the weekend (once the Mums have gone!).

Anyway, enough for now. We've had some interesting questions, but I'll leave them till later. For know, here's something I found on the wonderful YouTube (to which I have developed something of an addiction).

Reactions (1)

2006-09-22T09:17:00.000+01:00

I often appear in amateur productions in our local theatre. With a full house that’s over 500 people who’ve paid good money to be entertained. And let me tell you this: I get nervous. My stomach and chest tense up, my breathing gets shallow, my mouth goes dry, the works.

So why was I feeling as nervous as that last night?

Because we were about to tell Mrs T’s Mum that we are pregnant.

Her train arrived on time and Mrs T went to pick her up from the station while I finished preparing the dinner. We chatted, drank (made sure she got a glass of wine inside her!) and had our meal then relaxed just as we would any other time. Mrs T and her Mum can talk for ever, and I wondered how she was going to bring the subject up. Would she just casually drop it in? Would she mention it in passing and see if her Mum picked up on it? No, of course not: at a slight pause in the conversation (they do happen occasionally) she said, “I know the main reason for this weekend is to celebrate T’s Mum’s birthday” (for that is what we’ve told them) “but what would you say if we told you we are three months pregnant?”

A short gasp. then silence. A lovely silence, full of excitement and disbelief. Hands clasped firmly over mouth, eyes wide and bright, with a glisten of tears. She eventually said “I don’t know what to say!” and we all stood for a hug. They both cried – with joy and with some sadness because of how much Mrs T’s Dad would have loved to hear the news.

And then we talked about little else until bedtime.

Mrs T also told her boss yesterday lunchtime. She’s been very tired (her Mum recalled it as “a tiredness like no other”) and her friend J, who’s just returned from Maternity leave, persuaded her to let the head know. She reacted well, too.

And tonight? My Mum’s turn…

Proof!

2006-09-20T20:01:00.000+01:00

We arrived at the hospital in good time, and once we'd found the clinic (having walked right past it once on the way from the car park) were checked in and had to wait our turn. The wait wasn't too long, thankfully, as Mrs T was bursting for a wee having filled her bladder as instructed.

The Radiologist checked our details (a little confusion over our records because we started at one hospital and have now moved to this one) and then got started. He found Flicker very quickly, and Mrs T breathed a sigh of relief once again. She'd got really pretty nervous during the morning and whilst waiting. Almost as much as she does waiting to see the dentist.) I was surprised to see Flicker's movements. I must have read about it but for some reason I'd just expected a much more static view. It wasn't moving a lot, but flexing arms and legs occasionally was plenty.

By now Mrs T was pretty uncomfortable, so he let her pop out to the loo, and then found Flicker again to take the measurements. We are exactly a week further on than we'd thought (so I must read Mrs T the next chapter from Kaz Cooke's book tonight).

I gather that an experienced Radiologist (and his badge did say "Senior Radiologist") would be able to tell the sex by now, but we didn't want to know so we didn't ask. I think we're assuming it will be a boy (the genes in my family seem to favour boys), but I'd still much rather wait and see.

Sorry about the poor quality of this picture;
our scanner is playing up so I've taken a photo of the print!

After the scan one of the nurses (midwives? I didn't check her title) went through the paperwork, gave us the official date based on the measurements (and no, we're not going to bribe her to change it - regardless of your comments), and talked us through what happens next. Blood samples were taken for various tests and we made an appointment for the next scan (6th November, if you're taking notes).

We asked about the future plans for the antenatal provision, and yes, there are changes afoot, but they're way too far away to affect us. Before they can close down the delivery suite they've got to build a new one elsewhere. All in all a very positive experience and we're pleased to have made the decision to use the hospital even if is a bit further away. (It's still only a 15-20 minute drive.)

PS: thanks for your comments on my last post, folks; I was beginning to think only Alli was reading!

Quick update

2006-09-20T14:13:00.000+01:00

Just a quick update from work… Scan fine. Everything as it should be; saw that lovely heartbeat again and even some movement. Our date was wrong, but in fact we’re a week further on than we thought: due date now 20 March 2007 (so no chance of nine months maternity leave).

Will give more details from home this evening. And update ticker!

Apples

2006-09-20T08:04:00.000+01:00

Another curious food thing: Mrs T adores apples, but she's hardly been able to eat them for a few years as they are one of several things that give her nasty heartburn because of a Hiatus Hernia. But over the last few weeks she's discovered that she’s able to enjoy them with no problems. It’s one of the few things about pregnancy she’s pleased about.

Scan today! God, I hope everything’s all right.

Looking ahead

2006-09-18T08:28:00.000+01:00

Out to dinner with friends on Saturday (friends who know), and conversation turned to a couple of things that might affect us.

First of all, due dates. Our date calculated from Mrs T’s cycle is 27 March. On Wednesday we’re going to the hospital – our chosen one this time rather than just the nearest – for a scan, at which they’ll give us the “official” Expected Delivery Date (EDD). Of course we knew all this already, but what we hadn’t heard is that the Maternity Leave allowance changes next year: if our EDD is on or after 1 April 2007, Mrs T will qualify for nine months Maternity Leave rather than six. Here’s hoping that the official date is at least five days later than we’d thought…

Unfortunately the other thing that grabbed our attention relates to the hospital. We mentioned that we’d opted for a hospital other than our local one, and it seems we may be out of luck. NHS cuts are leading to huge reduction in services at our chosen hospital, including stripping the maternity care down to the bare minimum. When we go on Wednesday we’ll have to ask them what’s going on – and when. We may well end up at our local one after all. Another option is to travel in the opposite direction to an even better one that’s always been Mrs T’s ideal choice but is nearly an hour’s drive away rather than five minutes to the local.

Food

2006-09-15T23:49:00.000+01:00

Mrs T's gone off chocolate.

What is the world coming to?

Doesn't time fly?

2006-09-13T22:33:00.000+01:00

Have I really left it over a week? I was hoping I'd be here more often with updates now that something exciting is actually happening.

I've been reading quite a bit. Our main reference has been Kaz Cooke's excellent Rough Guide to Pregnancy and Birth (published as Up The Duff in Australia and A Bun in the Oven in the USA). I've read through the whole thing - twice now, because I did it first time around, too - and I'm reading it to Mrs T a week at a time so she gets an idea of what might be coming up. (Mind you, Kaz has been saying "the nausea should be wearing off about now" for about three weeks now and there's not much sign of that happening so I'm not sure how much believe!). Each week she gives a brief summary of what should be happening to both Mrs T and Flicker, followed by extracts from her own diary of the week and then more details about some of the issues raised. We both get a bit squeamish when we read about how big Flicker should be each week, and how well developed.

I've also enjoyed Marcus Berkmann's Fatherhood: The Truth, which I bought for my eldest brother when he was expecting. It looked good so I've got hold of a copy for myself. I've nearly finished reading that to Mrs T, too.

Worst of all was the Royal College of General Practitioners' attempt at a light-hearted look at pregnancy, Emma's Diary, kindly supplied by the NHS in our pack of information when we registered with the GP surgery. The factual stuff is fine, but the 'diary' part is so awfully written and obviously contrived that it was painful to get through. Mrs T gave up. I can't say I blame her.

We're still keeping quiet apart from our few 'insiders', and I'm quite enjoying it now, though itching to let the cat out of the bag at the same time. And I'm very glad that Mrs T has now mentioned some people that she's actually looking forward to telling. Well, we are Godparents to their two. In fact we were out the other day at a restaurant when she whipped out a pen and paper to make a list. "Oh no," thought I, "not another bloomin' list." (For she is queen of lists.) But this one turned out to be okay, as she said, "Okay, who are we going to tell and when?"

Both Mums arrive next weekend and they'll be first to find out. Then, over the following week we visit or phone other family members and close friends, before going completely public at the end of the week. There are quite a few connection between Mrs T's school and our Church, and even my office, and we don't want to risk school finding out until Mrs T has formally told the staff, but once the news is out at school it's free to be shared anywhere.

And I for one am looking forward to it.

Don't talk; just eat

2006-09-04T22:14:00.000+01:00

Despite what I said earlier, Mrs T is actually managing to eat a full diet. It's just the thought of food that's making her feel queasy. This evening I started to ask what she fancied, and she couldn't come up with anything. When I started to suggest things, ("If I made X, do you think you might want to eat it?"), she just cringed and said "Don't talk to me about it; just make me something and I'll eat it."

And sure enough she did.

Smells and food

2006-09-04T11:04:00.000+01:00

One of the more bizarre side-effects of pregnancy, according to some of the books we’ve read, is the increased sense of smell. What, exactly, is that all about? Mrs T can most certainly attest to it.

I mentioned earlier that I was doing all the painting in the utility room because of the fumes. She pops in occasionally to see how I’m doing and it’s clearly hard work: she has to hold something over her nose and looks like she’s about to throw up. (Perhaps she just doesn’t think much of my painting.) And thanks, by the way, to those who suggested that she should also keep well away from detergent, vacuuming, and pretty much all housework for the duration. We’ll have to see about that…

Her sense of smell is also evident in the kitchen. She’s rarely fancying anything much in the way of food, and even thinking about it makes her feel queasy a lot of the time. Thankfully I do most of the cooking anyway, but it’s been getting hard trying to find things she can cope with at the moment. (Porridge every morning!) It would be great to get through this bit.

She’s back in the classroom today, with a couple of stacks of biscuits hidden away for when she need to nibble on something. I hope she copes.

Eleven weeks tomorrow!

Ten weeks

2006-08-29T09:44:00.000+01:00

Ten weeks today: we are officially a quarter of the way through this pregnancy!

Our Mums are both coming over to spend a weekend with us soon and we’re planning to tell them when they’re here. But that’s not for another three and a half weeks yet. How am I going to hang on? I’m bursting to tell people!

Mrs T, being fundamentally a much more private person than I am, seems less enthusiastic about sharing the news. I asked her, “who are you looking forward to telling?”, and she struggled to come up with anyone. I’m glad of a few very close friends who I’ve been able to confide in (and you readers here, of course!) as I think I might have burst by now otherwise.

Mrs T continues to feel – in her words – shitty much of the time. And inordinately tired. But we’ve kept busy: this weekend we’ve been decorating our utility room, which we’ve recently had remodelled by a local builder. She normally does a lot (okay, most) of our decorating as she’s better at it than me, but we’ve read that she should avoid too many paint fumes so I’ve been doing all the painting myself while she’s been sorting and reorganising all the kitchen cupboards in readiness for moving stuff into the room when it’s finished.

(Hang on: did she really read that about the paint fumes, or was that just a way to make me do my fair share..?)

Not Blob

2006-08-23T22:02:00.000+01:00

I thought we might end up using 'The Blob" as an interim name, to avoid having to say "it" all the time, but no. Mrs T didn't like it. The Blob is now known as Flicker, after its heartbeat.

Seen the Blob!

2006-08-23T10:43:00.000+01:00

Mrs T picked me up from work and we made our way to the hospital, and with a rare spark of efficiency we were seen at exactly ten o’clock and on our way out by ten past. Although we’ve opted to have our antenatal care at a different hospital, for this scan we were back at our local. It was odd to be back in that same scanning room where it all went wrong a year ago, but we took a deep breath and let the (same) sonographer do her job.

And there it was. Undeniably a blob. And in the right place. And then - a clearly visible heartbeat pulsating on the screen. (Well, I say ‘clearly visible’, but that was only once she’d pointed it out to us.)

When we came out Mrs T was desperate to empty her specially-filled bladder and we rushed to the nearest loo. (Okay, the second nearest. The nearest was out of order.) I waited outside, looking at the printout we’d been given and trying to make sense of it, and when Mrs T emerged she’d clearly been crying. There had been a lot of tension built up in her and the positive scan experience was a huge relief.

I’m guessing this is going to be an emotional time…

"Booked in"

2006-08-22T22:45:00.000+01:00

Good old NHS: Mrs T did say this afternoon that it feels like being on a production line at times. We turned up at the surgery at lunchtime for our first appointment with one of the community midwives. Once we'd overcome the first hiccup (our appointment was actually for next Tuesday but they managed to fit us in) we spent half an hour with Alli, a nice young girl who took us through all the paperwork to "book us in to the system". Yes, that's right, "The System".

As I say, she was nice enough but it was all a touch impersonal. Paperwork done, list ticked (literally) to confirm that she's told us all she was supposed to, wee tested, dates worked out. (Same conclusion as us, 27th March 2007, but we've already decided to tell people 10 April so we're not inundated with phone calls at the very end.) There was no "how are you feeling?", no "are you excited/nervous/etc?". Just facts and figures.

And that's about it for the "booking in" appointment.

When she was telling us about the first scan it was up to us to mention that Mrs T's GP had recommended an early scan because of last time. She had no note of that from our previous consultation. And, as a midwife she can't authorise it, as it needs a GP to arrange. So our "early scan" started to look like it was going to end up being the same time as everyone else's first one. In the end there was a GP present (not Mrs T's own) who was able to fit her in as an extra to his list and has arranged a first scan for us - for tomorrow at 10 o'clock! No idea how much we'll be able to see at 9 weeks 1 day, but all we want to confirm is that the embryo is where it should be. (Embryo? When does it become a Foetus?)

Me: excited, nervous, sad at times. Can't wait to be telling people.
Mrs T: sick of feeling so sick.

Cravings? Not likely

2006-08-18T09:16:00.000+01:00

Poor Mrs T has not been feeling well at all. I’m sure if food cravings would be likely to kick in just yet, but she’s not fancying food at all really. She is eating, but has to persuade herself to do so. And the nausea is pretty much constant.

We’ve not heard anything yet about the arrangements for the ‘early’ scan, which should be happening some time next week. It was over two weeks ago that we saw the GP, and he’s supposed to have referred us to the midwifery team at the hospital and arranged the scan, but we’ve no idea if anything’s happened yet. I’m hoping she’ll phone to find out what’s happening.

Sharing Secrets

2006-08-12T22:09:00.000+01:00

For a while I've been looking forward to the time when I can stop using a pseudonym to write this and start using our real names, but it seems that I may never get to do this. We were chatting about letting people know about the pregnancy, and Mrs T simply doesn't feel she'll be comfortable with people ever knowing about what's led up to where we are now. It's a shame for me, as I've been looking forward to eventually letting friends and family see all that I've been writing here, but clearly I'll need to respect her wishes.

Tricky thing to my mind is that fact that we'll now have to keep track of who knows what, as there are several versions of the story "out there". It would seem much more straightforward to me to simply tell all.

This weekend we've created another version: our independent midwife friend is here for the weekend with her husband and their gorgeous one-year-old, and Mrs T has confided in her. However, she's only shared part of the story, and I had to check before saying too much exactly what they knew and what they didn't. We've told them that the hospital admitance last year was a suspected ruptured ectopic pregnancy (ie, the truth) rather than an ovarian cyst (the cover-story), and therefore they know we've been trying for at least a year. But that's it. No five-year history; no IUI, no potential IVF.

I'm going to find this hard.

On a more positive note, we've chatted a lot this weekend about the pregnancy itself and about hopes and fears and lots else, and Mrs T is much more positive as a result. We're very glad to have our friend on board as a support and source of all knowledge. She has a wealth of professional expertise as a midwife and lactation consultant, and has a holistic/organic approach that we're very comfortable with.

Morning sickness

2006-08-08T00:09:00.000+01:00

Okay, so why do they call it morning sickness? Mrs T has been feeling pretty nauseous for a good few days now, and it certainly ain't limited to the mornings! Still, we're told it's a good sign: an indication that the necessary hormones are being produced in earnest. (Although one book we've read suggests it's an inbalance of minerals that can can be sorted with good nutrition or supplements.) A couple of days ago she had no sickness - and of course worried that it was a sign of things falling apart again. Thankfully (?) the sickness returned the next day.

When we saw he GP the other day he did mention (after checking Mrs T's age, 36) that we'd be 'offered' some additional tests to check for any genetic abnormalities. We've spoken about this, and think it's unlikely we'd agree to any extra tests. Neither of us would consider a termination, so what would be the point?

Back to business

2006-08-02T07:51:00.000+01:00

Well, now we're back from our trip, so I'm back online.

Having the time away gave us plenty of opportunities to talk about all manner of things - our hopes, our plans, our fears and so on - and I know there are a whole load more to talk about over the coming weeks (and, hopefully, months and years). One thing we discussed was telling people. Mrs T is really undecided about telling her Mum when we see her at the end of next week. On the positive side, it would give us an opportunity to explain the problems of last summer, when we didn't tell the truth about Mrs T's operation. On the negative, it would build up her hopes and, if things go wrong again this time, will mean she will always be wanting to know how it's going in the future. That's one of the biggest reasons we've never told anyone we were trying in the first place.

We've a really good friend who's an independent midwife, so we'd toyed with the idea of telling her. After all, it would seem silly to let the benefit of all her experience pass us by. I'm really pleased that Mrs T did, last night, phone and tell her. She wanted to speak to her before her appointment with her GP this morning, to run some questions by here and seek professional and personal advice. We couldn't hire her professionally, as she lives too far away and I can't imagine it would be good professional ethics anyway. (I'm also not sure we could afford her fee!) But she said to Mrs T "I'll be there! I'll block out some time in my diary and If at all possible I'll be there with you" which is simply the best news. She has, of course, been sworn to secrecy.

Mrs T's GP was good this morning. He's arranging blood tests for her thyroid function, as that will need more closely monitoring during pregnancy and, because of her history, arranging an early scan at about 8-9 weeks. He also confirmed that we don't have to have the baby at the nearest NHS hospital. Some will think it's an odd decision; we can see the hospital from our house so for convenience it's perfect. However, Mrs T simply doesn't want to use it. Thankfully there's another hospital in a town about 25 minutes away that's part of the same trust and we can opt to have it there instead.

Doctor's appointment

2006-07-26T11:13:00.000+01:00

Mrs T was please to be able to make an appointment with her own GP when she phoned yesterday. She often has to wait a while before getting to see him, and isn’t keen on seeing anyone else if she can help it, but this time he could fit her in easily. In the end she made an appointment for next Wednesday when we return from a long weekend away celebrating our 12th anniversary.

We’d both been thinking about the fact that this pregnancy means we won’t be going ahead with IVF in January, but we won’t let the hospital know until things are a bit more established. Even if this pregnancy doesn’t stick we’ve demonstrated that we can conceive without assistance, so IVF simply doesn’t seem appropriate any more. Okay, so maybe it took us a long time to get here, but we can do it. Mrs T pointed out that it’s taken about a year both times: the first conception was about a year after our two attempts at IUI treatment, and this one is just over a year after the miscarriage.

Here we go...

2006-07-25T05:56:00.000+01:00

4:30 am: I am barely awake when Mrs T comes back from the bathroom with, "Okay, you can get excited now".

Now she believes it.

We've now fished out all our books and leaflets from last time and started to read up on diet, nutrution (Mrs T's biggest concern, other than the understandable worries about what happened before, was "what should I be eating?") and much else.

A chart in one leaflet tells us our due date is around 27 March 2007. That seems a long time away, but I expect if things go smoothly (please!) then it'll be here in no time.

Getting used to the idea

2006-07-24T08:48:00.000+01:00

It really is happening. Mrs T has been wary of admitting it, but it really is happening.

We’ve had a very busy weekend, with friends visiting and trips out, and she said last night that she was glad to have had something to take her mind off “what might be happening inside” her. She’s also mentioned that her lateness could easily be down to the stressful last week of term she’s just worked through. (I agreed that this could well make her late, but wouldn’t account for the positive test of last Thursday.) She didn’t seem convinced. But now we’ve got a couple of days further down the line (day 35 today) and her temperature is staying up with no sign of anything happening, she’s allowing herself to believe that it really might be true. At least, she asked me to pop into the chemist at lunchtime today and pick up another test kit. I’ll let you know tomorrow how it went.

She also asked me to tell one of our friends. Just one. Mrs T has not been going to church for some time now, her faith having taken a real bashing after all she’s been through, but she did ask me to ask this particular (from the list a while back) to “pray lots”. Said friend was suitably excited, but very good at keeping it under wraps as I told her the little there is to tell so far.

It really does feel great to be reporting things like this. At last A Nice Cup Of Tea can once again become “The Diary of an Expectant Father.”

"Don't get excited..."

2006-07-20T07:41:00.000+01:00

... we're Mrs T's first words to me this morning, as she came back from the bathroom with two pink lines on a test. Hey, come on now, MrsT: I've been getting excited for the last couple of days. No real reason to until this morning, as she's not technically even 'late' yet (we were expecting today to be day one of yet another cycle).

Of course it is very early, and we musn't get too excited yet. In fact, in the real world (I still consider blog-land to be outside of "the real world") we won't even be telling anyone for a while. Anyone who reads this here is privvy to a very big secret!

One year on.

2006-06-22T07:52:00.000+01:00

Yesterday marked the first anniversary of what Mrs T described last night as "The worst day of our lives" (which you can read about here). It also means I've been keeping this blog just over a year, as I started when we'd just found out she was pregnant. She soon became, of course, no longer pregnant, and to date this remains the case: it's day three today if I'm not mistaken.

I sometimes feel a bit lost in all this.

Nothing to report. Wish there was.

2006-05-02T17:31:00.000+01:00

I really would love to post here more often, but unfortunately there just isn't anything much to say at the moment. Well, there's plenty going on with the two of us, but this blog is intended to be about pregnancy - and our quest for that is still just ticking along. The first two posts I made, back in June last year, were bursting with excitement. We had an exciting secret back then: now it's just a sad one.

I'd love to be saying stuff like that again.

Round and round and round...

2006-04-20T22:49:00.000+01:00

For some reason I had high hopes for this month. I know it's only the first month since our renewed commitment to doing our best to conceive, but things just felt right to me. But, hey, I'm just a man: what do I know about feelings?

Mrs T thought it highly unlikely that it would work out and she was right. She usually is.

Easter Sunday

2006-04-16T17:53:00.000+01:00

Happy Easter everyone.

I was surprised to be given a Lindt Gold Bunny this morning, as we'd agreed we wouldn't buy chocolate for each other this Easter. Mrs T soon corrected my misinterpretation, though. It wasn't, apparently, for Easter, but to celebrate the fact that "we've been like rabbits this month".

I'll take that as a compliment!

Treatment deferred

2006-03-20T20:31:00.000Z

I spoke to the NHS funding co-ordinator today and explained that we'd had our initial appointment and wanted to postpone our treatment if possible. Thankfully, she didn't think it will be a problem. Mrs T had suggested this morning that we should be looking at Easter next year, but that would cross over into the next financial year so could be problematic, so she is going to see if she can book us in for January/February.

It's a weight off our minds. If it's going to be next year then we've time to prepare for it emotionally and physically. (Spiritually, too.)

It also gives us another nine months or so to keep trying naturally, so we really want to make the most of it. Although we've been pretty aware of Mrs T's cycle and our health, we've never got into the whole temperature-taking thing to predict the best days, and aren't quite sure how to best go about it. I'm sure there's plenty of guidance out there in the world of the internet, but if anyone reading has some advice for us we'd be grateful! (Even if it's just recommendations of a good source of information.)

"Co-ordination"

2006-03-18T12:16:00.000Z

The appointment was indeed about two hours long, but was not, as I had expected, two hours with a consultant. We were welcomed in to a very nice calm waiting area (although we were assured it was normally very much busier than when we saw it) and soon called over to see one of the nurses.

She took us through the procedures. We're lined up to go through the "21-day long protocol" which starts with a blood test on Mrs T's "Day 2", then moves through a series of daily injections from "Day 21" onwards to first suppress the ovaries for a while then to stimulate them. Several blood tests are taken during this period and, when the results are right, we'd go in for her eggs to be collected and for me to supply a fresh sample. The two samples are then placed together in a laboratory to do their thing while we go home for a day's rest. The following day we go back in for up to two embryos to be placed back into Mrs T's womb. There then follows the anxious wait to see whether they successfully implant themselves and settle in for a pregnancy.

She went through things in some detail (although I now realise I'm still a bit sketchy on some of the details) and gave us a supply of syringes and swabs - and me a lesson in how to administer an injection (something I've never done).

What we hadn't realised is that we're actually booked in to start this for the April/May cycle. (Which, as Mrs T is on about day 26 would mean the first blood test later this month.) The nurse could tell this was all pretty daunting for us and suggested we'd be able to speak to one of the unit's counsellors while we were there. We said we'd like to if possible. (It's complulsory under UK law for all IVF clinics to have a free counselling service avavilable.) She also suggested - after Mrs T asked - that it might be possible to postpone our treatment to August-September, although we would need to check with the NHS funding co-ordinator.

The next part of the appointment was with a doctor. After filling her bladder, Mrs T and I went into one of their consultation rooms where Mrs T was examined to check the poistion/shape/alignment of her cervix to confirm that placing the embryos would be straightforward. All seems okay. There was some confusion at that point as to whether she should also have been having an ultra-sound scan, but she didn't end up having one done. (Although she will need to before we start anything so I don't know why they didn't do it there and then.) We were also expecting that I'd have to give a sample while we were there but they didn't ask for that either. The doctor also picked up on our anxiety (Mrs T was quite tearful at several points during the afternoon) and sat down and asked us if we were ready for all this. We explained that we had some reservations, and he was very reassuring and sympathetic.

Finally, we did have the chance to speak to one of their counsellors. (Luckily, as you normally need an appointment.) Jackie was excellent. She could only give us ten minutes (although I'm sure it spread to more like 20) but let us talk things through a bit and pretty well encouraged us to postpone things if we can. As Mrs T said, she doesn't feel emotionally strong enough to put herself through this at the moment and feels that she needs more time to prepare. She's recently bereaved and still grieving for her Dad; work is very stressful at the moment; and she's also not convinced her body's really had long enough to recover from last summer's trauma.

If we can put the whole thing off until next year I think Mrs T will be happiest. Failing that, moving it on until later this year - and arranging for her to take some time off work - would suit us pretty well. We need to phone and speak to the funding people on Monday to check what's possible.

Consent forms - lots of them

2006-03-15T22:06:00.000Z

In preparation for tomorrow's appointment, we got all the paperwork out and had another look through it. We're still so torn over whether to go ahead with IVF. The physical side is daunting (for Mrs T - my bit's pretty easy!) and the emotional side is just so vast that we can hardly get our heads around it.

Are we playing with nature? Are we trying to play God? Why do we want children? Do we want children? What happened to our faith? Mine is still strong (I think) but Mrs T's is very shaky. As we discussed things tonight she admitted she doesn't know where her faith is anymore. The things she believes (or perhaps believed) about life and death, heaven and hell, good and evil, God or no God, haven't helped her cope with a series of tragedies (other things have been going on that are no longer recorded on this blog), and so now they're just clouding the issues.

Among the paperwork there was a series of consent forms we both had to fill in. I was all for not signing them until we'd talked it all through at the hospital tomorrow, but we did so. I guess we can always not hand them over. Let's have a look at what we've just signed:

consent for the IVF department to share information about our treatment with other medical personnel;
confirmation that we do not want medical students to be present at any point;
consent to the treatment itself;
an understanding that we would become the legal mother and father of any children resulting from the treatment;
our decision as to whether any cells, fluids, immature eggs, unfertilised eggs, or fertilised eggs may be used for research purposes (we said no to all options);
declarations of our current health and medical conditions;
a disclaimer confirming that the hospital is not responsible for any of our valuables while we're in there (yes, really); and
consent for the cryogenic storage of my sperm, Mrs T's eggs, and any fertilised embryos for up to ten years or until Mrs T's death if sooner. (I said they could keep them after my death. Mrs T thought it unlikely that she'd want to try to use them if I was gone, but I figured she might as well keep her options open.)

Quite a lot to think about, really.

One of Mrs T's concerns is purely practical: if we decide not to go through with it now, will we miss out on our one opportunity to have it funded by the NHS? Our consultant assured us that we could put it off if we wanted, but I'm wondering whether we may have taken it a bit too far (in signing up to consultation) for that.

If there's anyone out there reading this who is the praying type, please do pray for us tomorrow afternoon. The appointment is 3pm (UK time!). If you're not the praying type, then at least keep us in your thoughts, which may - or may not - amount to pretty much the same thing.

Unfortunate timing - again

2006-03-04T22:48:00.000Z

Looks like we're going to miss Mrs T's most fertile time once again this month. Our co-ordination appointment - for the possible IVF treatment (we have decided to at least attend this appointment) is on the 16th, and we're supposed to refrain from making love for three or four days beforehand. Can you guess which three or four days would be or best for conception this month? Yep, you got it.

Mrs T also has a routine smear test coming up - in the same week. Quite why they couldn't do that "while they're in there" I don't know. The smear is arranged through her GP's surgery and the IVF appontment through the hospital in London; I guess it's asking too much that they'd be able to share resources like that.

IVF: a difficult decision.

2006-02-22T11:59:00.000Z

As I suspected, it was just another long month.

More significant is the fact that we spent a good while together reading all the literature that the IVF hospital sent us about the procedure and the forthcoming appointment. We went rather quiet after reading it. I don’t think either of us had quite taken on board just how much medical preparation this could involve. Injections galore – and administered at home, too. Suppositories, which I don’t want to think about even though it wouldn’t be me who had to use them. Lots of appointments: Mrs T would certainly have to tell her boss what was going on unless we were able to time it to coincide with the school summer holiday. Lots of scans. Lots of worry. And, of course, no guarantee of a positive outcome.

Don’t forget this is all being considered by a couple who were uncomfortable about the level of intervention when we did two cycles of IUI treatment before backing out – and that was just a few tablets by comparison. (If you’ve not read the beginning of this story there’s a link on the right of the screen.)

Mrs T’s summary when we spoke about it afterwards was pretty straightforward: “I just don’t think I can do it.”

We’re yet to decide whether to go to the co-ordination appointment and actually speak it all through with someone. It may be that having been approved for NHS funding we can postpone it as long as we want (say a couple more years) while we keep trying to conceive without assistance. After all, the doctor we have spoken to at the hospital did tell us we were still young at 37 (me) and 36 (Mrs T).

I’ll let you know what we decide.

Same old, same old.

2006-02-20T13:40:00.000Z

This is getting to be something of a routine now: we’ve reached day 32 and there’s no sign of anything happening. I’m beginning to suspect that Mrs T’s cycle is simply longer than it used to be.

Close call for the secret

2006-02-16T15:37:00.000Z

Mrs T had brief moment’s panic yesterday evening. Our Pastor sent her an email to catch up and ask how she’s doing. I guess he must have recently read this blog because he finished his email with “good news about the IVF”, and I don’t think I’d mentioned it to him recently.

What he didn’t know (and couldn’t have known) was that Mrs T was sitting with her laptop on her knees looking at some photos… with her Mum. Mrs T’s not always one to look at emails the moment they arrive but for some reason she did on this occasion. She’s never hit delete so quickly! She’d not even read the email, but the letters “IVF” shone out like a beacon.

She’s pretty sure that Mum didn’t see. Well, she certainly didn’t say anything if she did.

We have lift-off

2006-02-11T09:36:00.000Z

It looks like everything's in place for IVF. We had a letter from the hospital today to confirm that treatment could go ahead as early as March/April if we want it. We first have to make a "co-ordination" appointment at which I guess they'll go through all the technicalities with us in more detail.

Wish us luck!

Where would we be now, if ...?

2006-02-02T00:37:00.000Z

February has arrived. If my calculations are right then we would be at about week 38/39 now had things not gone wrong back in week 7. I guess a lot would be very different. For starters, we'd not be able to be keeping it a secret any more. It's still odd sometimes to be holding onto this whole thing as a secret from all our family and all but a very few very close friends. (Especially when I reveal all about us here!)

We have spoken about whether we'll do things differently if we're lucky enough to become pregnant again. Mrs T thinks she'd probably be a bit more open next time.

We had a letter yesterday from the London hospital where we're being seen for IVF treatment. It doesn't say much, but does give a pretty good summary of the "story so far" and at least confirms that the wheels are in motion. (I think that funding is still technically to be approved pending the results of the HIV/hepatitis tests that the NHS have made us have.)

Not this time.

2006-01-22T19:57:00.000Z

She was right, of course.

It was day 35 when I posted the last update, but on day 36 Mrs T phoned me at work to let me know we wouldn't be needing to buy a pregnancy testing kit.

An overdue wife

2006-01-19T22:56:00.000Z

Hmm, According to my calculations, today is day 34 or even 35 and still no sign of Mrs T's period. Yet she is convinced she's not pregnant. I'm hoping otherwise.

If she is, the timing is extraordinary: I think it means we must have concieved on the day her Dad died. Of course, it could be the stress of it all that's making her late. (She's rarely this late, though.)

Long time since I was here.

2005-11-11T23:09:00.000Z

I'm a pretty useless blogger, aren't I? It's ages since I posted here, and it feels like a fair bit's happened.

I'm probably too tired to update it now (and I'm trying to watch the telly!) but in summary, Mrs T was really upset when her period started last month, and I - being a man - didn't really notice and therefore we didn't talk about it. When we finally did, she said that when it started she felt she never wanted to make love again. I guess the cycle of build-up and disappointment is beginning to get heavier.

Thankfully we have made love since. A fertile time was approaching and we had to consciously decide to make love "because we both want too," rather than with any thought of pregnancy. We then went on do it every night for a while, so I guess it worked, but I'll admit some worries about next time she's due. I must be ready for whatever emotions are flung up this month. Of course I hope the emotions will be good ones.

"It'll be you next!"

2005-10-16T22:35:00.000+01:00

It's funny how people say things. I was out without Mrs T last week with a group of friends who I've known for just over a year. One of them is expecting her third child within the next three weeks, and I happened to be sitting next to her during the meal. (We are the youngest two in this mixed group.) I was chatting about how things were going and how ready she and her husband felt and all the other small-talk one makes with a soon-to-be-mum, and at some point in the conversation she dropped in the line, "Well, it'll be you next". I smirked and raised my eyebrows as I tend to do when people speculate about whether we're planning a family; none of this group knows our secret. A few years ago my reaction would have been genuine. Now it is rehearsed. I smirked outwardly but grinned inwardly. Little do they know, I thought.

But it got me thinking: why do people say things like this? It could be so very insensitive. Imagine if I had burst into tears with "we've been trying for years". That would have surprised her!

Week 23?

2005-10-14T11:19:00.000+01:00

I've spent some time recently reading blogs of other people hoping to conceive in similar circumstances. Well, I say similar - in fact they're mostly very different. There are some heartbreaking stories out there of still births and babies born who survived only minutes. They're very different from our story because to get that far through pregnancy, and to have to go through birth as well, it seems that you've already bonded with the child and see him or her as a person. Certainly in most of the blogs I've read recently (all, incidentally, written by the mothers concerned - although one has contributions from the father) talk of the child by name and some mention a funeral service of some sort. That really is a million miles from our experience. Mrs T miscarried at only 6 or 7 weeks and we feel we lost an embryo rather than a baby. It was a life - a human life - but not one which either of us felt we needed to grieve over. I'm sure many miscarriages that early happen without the woman ever knowing she was pregnant.

Another theme that crops up in the blogs I've been reading is that of thinking about how old the lost child would be now, and what he or she might be like. I'd not thought about before, but I just looked up our dates and see that Mrs T would be about 23 weeks pregnant now - about half way through - had things not gone wrong. According to the book we started reading that means that the foetus would be about 20cm long ("from head to bum"). It's not something I want to dwell on, and Mrs T certainly hasn't mentioned thinking about it. No - as far as I'm concerned, our first pregnancy failed. It's behind us and we can, to some extent, forget about it.

This may, of course, be very much a male perspective.

Pregnant colleague

2005-10-12T23:05:00.000+01:00

I mentioned earlier that Mrs T has a colleague who's pregnant at the moment. Mrs T was one of only a few at school who knew, but today a letter has gone out to all the parents to let them know about staff changes when she goes on maternity leave. I guess everyone will be congratulation her and wishing her well. I'd thought Mrs T was okay about M's pregnancy but she mentioned today that she was finding it really hard. Of course she won't tell M about our situation. I just hope I can be strong enough to support Mrs T when she's feeling down about the whole thing.

She surprised me a couple of week ago by letting me know that she has told one friend about the miscarriage. I'm not sure how much she told her, but she does live over three and a half thousand miles away so it didn't matter too much. The surprising thing is that she is coming to visit us in a couple of weeks time. It'll be interesting to see whether we talk about it much.

IVF on the NHS ?

2005-09-22T14:17:00.000+01:00

Just back from the hospital. It was good to talk to the consultant and I was quite satisfied with his review of the events of June.

Mrs T was definitely pregnant.
Mrs T was bleeding and in pain.
The sonographer (a senior sonographer) couldn't see an embryo.

Given these facts, the only option was to assume an ectopic pregnancy and investigate accordingly. When you look at the records of women who have died following an ectopic pregnancy there's always been delays in treatment. He was satisfied that, given the circumstances, the laparoscopy was the only appropriate course of action.

And then he surprised us.

His main aim of our meeting was to consider the question, "where do we go from here?". We've demonstrated that we can get pregnant unassisted, and we could of course continue trying to conceive naturally - which was in our minds exactly what we'd planned. After all, if you've read the earlier entries in this blog you'll remember that we did have a couple of cycles of fertility treatment (Intra Uterine Insemination - IUI) and that we felt uncomfortable with the amount of medical intervention so withdrew from it. However, he recommended that we move on to IVF - "now that you can get funding for it on the NHS". You certainly couldn't in our area when we were first seeing him.

We'd not thought about IVF at all since withdrawing from IUI, but he persuaded us to let him write the letter of referral to our nearest NHS IVF clinic, which serves as an application for funding. It won't come through for a few months, and even then we could put on hold if we're still uncomfortable with it, but it does get us in the system, gives us time to talk, think and pray about it, and - if we go for it - will save us about £5,500. (Of course, we weren't actually planning to spend that anyway, so it's a slightly misleading factor.)

In the meantime, we'll still try to get pregnant. Then we won't have to decide about IVF.

Not pregnant - and relieved

2005-09-21T22:38:00.000+01:00

Tonight Mrs T said she was relieved that she wasn't pregnant. I guess it still feels quite early after loosing the last one. And she's still recovering from the operation, too; despite being back at work and seeming in good health, she could always be stronger. Tomorrow we see our consultant. I do hope he's able to tell us something.

Day One again

2005-09-21T11:17:00.000+01:00

I knew my hopes of a 'false negative' were rather ambitious: Mrs T started her period this morning. That means we'e back at Day One of her cycle and ready to start again.

"Am I or aren't I?" had been taking up too much of her mind for the last few days, so it was good to hear her say that she'd not thought about it much yesterday. Of course she'd taken the First Response test which had at least answered the question, but in a general sense we don't want this to be the one think which occupies all out thoughts. A baby would be great, and we would consider it a blessing from God, but we want to trust that His plan for us is the right one and if it doesn't involve children then we'll want to know what it does involve instead. For the time being, we'll continue to hope that it does.

A friend from church is popping round for a drink this evening, and will want to pray with us. We'll not be sharing this story with her. There are other things to pray about. As we're going to see the consultant tomorrow we might have a chat with one of the few friends who does now about this and ask them to pray.

As for me, I'm home sick today - my first day off sick for about four years. I started with a very upset stomach on Sunday and my system hasn't been right since. Today is a day for staying at home, resting, and eating nothing.

Hoping for a "false negative"

2005-09-19T21:55:00.000+01:00

Mrs T said last night that she really wants to be pregnant, but that the thought of it scares her. After last time, who can blame her?

Not knowing either way proved to be too much for her today and she went out and bought a First Response home testing kit. (These are supposed to be able to tell you up to four days before your period is due, unlike most of the kits which only work once you're late.) It was with disappointment that she told me the result was a negative. I find my emotion is more sadness than disappointment, but her fear means that the hope of pregnancy is, for now, tainted so she couldn't honestly say she was sad to get the result.

If the test is right (the chances are, of course, that it is, but the books tell us that although a false positive result is impossible, a false negative result can and does happen) then Mrs T's body gets another month to continue healing from the operation. As I said in my last entry, we're finally going to see our consultant on Thursday to get a post-operative review to see if we can work out just what happened back in June.

I find myself concerned that we may get drawn into a long cycle of hope, disappointment, hope, disappointment if we're not careful. Much healthier to simply trust God that his plan - and his timing - is right. I pray that we will be able to return to that state of trust and relaxation: to let the thought of actually becoming pregnant become a joy to look forward to rather than a goal to be achieved.

Appointment!

2005-09-16T11:26:00.000+01:00

Progress! I rang the hospital myself and made a bit of a fuss. (On an answering machine, of course.) Our consultant's secretary has just rung me back and come up with an appointment for next Thursday. Perhaps we’ll finally get a clue as to what happened back in June...

(By next Thursday we might also know whether Mrs T is pregnant again.)

Starting again

2005-09-02T22:37:00.000+01:00

It feels like an age since I posted here, and I see that it has been about six weeks.

Mrs T's recovery from her operation is pretty much complete. We've had a busy summer and she's now back at work and ready to receive her new class of children.

Needless to say, we didn't get pregnant over the summer. The doctors had advised that we wait a while before trying again, but we did make love a few times despite this. (Circumstances meant that our lovemaking never coincided with Mrs T's most fertile times, which was probably a good thing.)

We've seen the new babies in the family quite a few times and they are very special. We love them dearly and still maintain that it's much easier to do so with family not knowing we were pregnant back in June. But there have been a few emotional times. One of Mrs T's friends and colleagues - her closest friend on the staff - has just let us know that she's pregnant. Mrs T got quite upset at the thought that the two of them could so nearly have been sharing the experience.

On the medical front, we're quite upset that the promised appointment with the specialist has still not materialised. Mrs T has now phoned the clinic about sixteen times. It's quite possible that our consultant won't be able to tell us anything about what happened that day in hospital - but we must have the opportunity to find out. I suggested that she should phone every single day. She hasn't; perhaps I'll take it upon myself to do so.

As I type, we are in the middle of what should be Mrs T's most fertile period this month. (In which case you might wonder why I'm typing this rather than having sex right now. I think her being fast asleep is a good enough reason!) let me just assure you we'll not let the moment pass!

Normality returns.

2005-07-16T15:53:00.000+01:00

Well, whatever counts for normality, anyway. Specifically I mean that Mrs T and her Mum seem to be talking again and we had the weekly email update for the first time in a few weeks. Mrs T phoned on Monday evening and spoke to her Dad, then again on Tuesday and spoke with her Mum for quite some time. Apparently the conversation started as if nothing had happened, but Mrs T did bring up some of what we've been feeling and they spoke seriously about things. On that Wednesday, following the operation, the silence from us (well, me) allowed Mrs T's Mum to convince herself that Mrs T must have died and that I hadn't plucked up the courage or energy to let them know. No wonder they were getting anxious.

Mrs T and her Mum have spoken again since, and as I said above the family newsletter arrived today, which suggests things are back on track. At some stage I'm going to have to speak to them myself, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

New Baby!

2005-07-12T10:07:00.000+01:00

There's a new baby in the family! Everyone's healthy, and we popped down in the evening to visit the hospital. It was great to see them looking so happy through their tiredness. (Labour was over 24 hours...)

On route home we spoke a bit about whether we'd felt at all awkward visiting such a new baby so soon after a failed pregnancy. I'm pleased to say neither of us felt especially emotional about the situation. Mrs T also mentioned that the visit confirmed to her the rightness of not having told our family about the miscarriage - or indeed the pregnancy. I quite agree: knowing what we've just been through would have made it awkward for them in their joy.

Hurt relationships

2005-07-09T23:03:00.000+01:00

I note that it's a week since I last posted here. As with my attempts at keeping a diary over the years, my initial enthusiasm soon wears off. I'm going to try keeping this up - at least a weekly entry - as I think it's been a useful tool for me.

Mrs T continues to recover, physically, from the operation. The Laparotomy scar is healing well and her energy levels are - slowly - improving. We went out to a local town for a couple of hours this afternoon where they hold a free music festival each year. It was a lovely warm day and we enjoyed some great music and fairly decent food before pottering round the market to stock up on fruit for our juicer (cherries! Yum!) and finding our way home. An excellent afternoon, but still very tiring for Mrs T.

Of concern at the moment is our relationship with Mrs T's parents. (See "bad son-in-law" for the background to this.) We've had llittle communication: no phone calls, and Mrs T's emails have been unanswered. She did speak to her Mum last Thursday, but came away with the impression that her Mum "couldn't wait to get off the phone". Mrs T has drafted a possible letter to her folks, but neither of us is really sure how best to deal with this. We feel that we hurt them deeply by asking them not to come down following the operation and then aggravated this by my lack of communication the next day. Mrs T's letter talks of us both being in a state of shock for several days, but having our reasons for wanting to deal with this on our own. We're not posting the letter just yet, and I think, after chatting about it on a few occasions, that Mrs T is now going to try phoning over the weekend to see how things feel.

All clear!

2005-07-02T22:31:00.000+01:00

Saturday evening, and I'm just taking a quick break from watching Live 8 to update you all. (Note the vain assumption that there might be someone reading this.)

We went to the hospital yesterday for our first follow-up appointment. First to the pathology lab to take yet another blood sample for analysis. It's quite common to wait ages there once you've 'booked in', but Mrs T was lucky and was seen very quickly. We then had an appointment at the ultra-sound room. I think we were both quite nervous; it was in that very room that things had turned into an emergency ten days earlier. The Radiographer (or is it radiologist?) tried to be gentle because of Mrs T's scar, but Mrs T was clearly uncomfortable. The scan was once again unclear, and she explained that because Mrs T has a "retrovert uterus" (ie, it slopes away deeper into the abdomen than usual) an external scan will always be unclear. After the previous experience, however, Mrs T did not allow her to do an internal scan. After all, the blood test might well show all we need to know. We waited to see the doctor...

After a while in the waiting area (surrounded by couples having - presumably - routine pregnancy scans, he called us in. He'd picked up the blood results, and could very positively confirm that the pregnancy hormone had dropped right back down to a normal level. I guess for most couples who had been pregnant two weeks previously that would be very sad news. For us it was confirmation that there was no ectopic pregnancy still hiding away somewhere and therefore came as an "all clear".

Somewhere in the last few days Mrs T had indicated that she thought it might be "quite some time" before she'd feel like wanting to try again. (Understandable, I guess.) I was really pleased though that yesterday, as we walked, slowly, along the High Street, after picking up yet another DVD to while away the hours at home, she said something along the lines of "I'd love to think we'll be pregnant again soon". I smiled.

I think it's time to go, now. It sounds like The Who are on stage.

First outing

2005-06-30T00:07:00.000+01:00

Mrs T certainly seems to be on the road to recovery (cliche alert!) after a few days lazing at home watching DVDs and sleeping. Meals are staying with her now - which is always preferable to either of the alternatives. It was nice to have a visit from our pastor, who chatted with us about all sorts, although it made a busy day for me as I had to pop home from work to wash Mrs T's hair ready to receive visitors, and I then wanted to get back while he was still at home so left work early. Again.

We then tired Mrs T out: she was due at a meeting to discuss the next aspect of her university course and decided she did feel strong enough to go. She's not up to driving yet, so I acted as chauffeur but the layout of the university is such that she had quite a walk from the front entrance to the education department. By the time we got home she was ready to sleep - and we'd not had dinner yet.

We treated ourselves to a fancy juicer this week, so I've been experimenting and we're both enjoying super-healthy juices. mango and kiwi tonight was excellent. (Last night I did carrot, apple, ginger and chilli which was great - although I overdid the chilli a touch!) It's quite a palaver cleaning it out after use, but the results are excellent so I hope we'll keep it up. Mrs T had a browse through the recipe book this evening and has made a list of interesting fruits for me to add to the shopping list tomorrow.

Thanks for comments

2005-06-26T00:34:00.000+01:00

I was surprised and pleased to see that I’d had a couple of comments left on this blog after yesterday’s entry. I hadn’t really imagined anyone reading this! Both were wishing us well. One well-wisher was keen to advise that we should tell people what we’ve been through, and it got me thinking about the reasons we’re keeping our secret. One reason involves two other members of my family: one has just had a baby (gorgeous!), and another is due any day. We want them to be able to celebrate properly; to know we’ve just lost one could make things awkward. Certainly we’d feel less comfortable around them knowing they knew. The bigger reason is that once people know we’re trying, as each month passes family and friends will always wonder if we’ve been successful or failed yet again. That seems to me to create an extra ‘external’ pressure where none in necessary.

We went back to the hospital this afternoon to have the staples removed from Mrs T's scar. The nurse had a good look at the healing scar and seemed confident that the surgeon had done a really good job and the scar will be barely visible once it’s fully healed. We’ll wait and see.

Home at last

2005-06-25T14:08:00.000+01:00

It's good to be typing this knowing that Mrs T is sitting downstairs rather than stuck in a hospital bed. She rang at about half past eight this morning to say she was dressed and her bags were packed. She needed me to pick her up, and for her discharge papers to be signed and then she could leave.

It's still not 100% clear what has happened with the last blood tests. The first test was inconclusive, and we never heard the results of the next one. But she was determined to come home for a bath and to recuperate in more comfortable surroundings, so here we are. Got to pop back in tomorrow to have the stitches out (actually they're more like staples) and then back next Friday for a follow-up scan (and yet another blood test). After that we'll get an appointment with Mr B in a couple of weeks to review the whole palaver and, I guess, look at future fertility (which we're assured will not have been affected by the events of this week).

Posts here may get a little less frequent for a while now. I'll record the follow-up visits and notable parts of Mrs T's recovery (she's signed off work for four weeks initially), but I imagine things will quieten down after that. Until the next time, of course...

(Incidentally, I did get a hefty chunk of my essay done yesterday, and am about to start of the next section.)

Morning call

2005-06-24T07:18:00.000+01:00

It was lovely this morning to start the day with a call from Mrs T from hospital. Following yesterday's morphine shot, she'd had a much better night's sleep and was breathing much more deeply and relaxedly (is that a word?). We still need to hear Mr B's assessment of yesterday's blood tests before knowing whether she'll be coming home today. As she might be, I must check round the house to ensure it's a welcoming sight - but I'm not doing anything until I've completed at least the first section of my essay!

Improvement

2005-06-23T22:12:00.000+01:00

I'll not add much tonight - some of my posts have turned into essays, which I never intended. (And which reminds me there is an essay I really should be working on.)

Definitely seen some improvement today: Mrs T was still uncomfortable, but relaxed a lot this evening after a shot of Morphine. I gave her a hair wash this afternoon and she felt a lot more comfortable for that, too. Apparently the doctors this morning suggested at one stage that she could possibly come home today, but a little later Mr B (our fertility consultant) came around and was a little concerned about something. He's taken some more blood to run further tests for the pregnancy hormones. As they'd seen nothing on the scan or in the operation (which was a 'Mini Laparotomy', incidentally), and Mrs T has been bleeding ever since, we'd taken on board that she was certainly no longer pregnant. He seems to be concerned that there's a remote possibility that there could still be an embryo somewhere. Perhaps on the outside of the uterus - which is another form of ectopic pregancy. If the blood tests show the hormones are still being produced then I have no idea what he'll want to do about it. The hope is that they've continued to drop.

Rang the folks again but didn't tell them about any possible complications: just that I'm expecting she'll be able to come home tomorrow.

A Nice Cup of Tea

I miss this blog

Mastisis

Two years ago.

More good news in Blogland

Birth story: Mrs T's version

The story continues... elsewhere

No drugs; no stitches.

Now, where was I?

The story will continue

The story - part one

Update coming soon...

Hello world

Coming early! *Now updated!!*

Twenty-two

"Full term..."

Terminology lesson *updated*

Fully educated

Prepared?

Stuff

The Power of Prayer

At last: a new post

"I'm fat"

Nearly bedtime

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... and we're off.

Tap shoes, please: size minus four months

Growing

Babyface

Yesterday

Bits and Bobs

Scan report

Meet the family

Half way!

Looking ahead

First baby gift

Daunting Consultation

Her suggestion, not mine!

One thing at a time

Back to normal...

Three clear days

Soooooo tired

Out of the mouths of babes

Cat's out of the bag

Reactions (3)

Reactions (2)

Reactions (1)

Proof!

Quick update

Apples

Looking ahead

Food

Doesn't time fly?

Don't talk; just eat

Smells and food

Ten weeks

Not Blob

Seen the Blob!

"Booked in"

Cravings? Not likely

Sharing Secrets

Morning sickness

Back to business

Doctor's appointment

Here we go...

Getting used to the idea

"Don't get excited..."

One year on.

Nothing to report. Wish there was.

Round and round and round...

Easter Sunday

Treatment deferred

"Co-ordination"

Consent forms - lots of them

Unfortunate timing - again

IVF: a difficult decision.

Same old, same old.

Close call for the secret

We have lift-off

Where would we be now, if ...?

Not this time.

Coming early! Now updated!!

Terminology lesson updated