Today we had another scan – our fifth.
I think we’ve had so many for various reasons – Bethend has a higher bmi than normal (she’s short and very strong), she has low amniotic fluid and it’s her first pregnancy. We didn’t get a picture this time round. His head is pretty low and he really doesn’t have a lot of room in there. None really. Most movements can be seen now. Her belly rippling is the weirdest thing but very cool all the same.
Most of the pregnancy has been like that. Weird but cool.
The scan showed he was growing fine still – completely average – but the amniotic fluid is still low. 6.2. 6.2 what I don’t know, but 6.2 something. Centimetres I think, and it’s in the lowest percentile (if I’m reading this chart correctly) but our regular midwife Gillian says they tend not to worry until it gets below 5 (centimetres I assume). The consultant had a feel and we talked about the fluid for a bit – bethend has been losing a bit every day more or less, and with the contractions the week before and having them on and off since then he decided she needed a speculum.
The word went right over my head until she told us it was like a smear test.
This is something I understand very well.
We went up to the maternity ward and bethend had to lie down for an hour (something about fluids pooling), so we watched the news and the Daily Politics (which has a weird opening title sequence that has little to do with politics from what I can tell) and I played Pokemon for a bit – Go and Yellow. We talked about Labour and Jeremey Corbyn for a bit and whether we would vote labour next election (we love Corbyn but we also love our local MP Mark Williams who’s a Lib Dem) before the most amazing midwife came in and spoke to us and we met the doctor who was going to do the speculum.
Let’s get it out the way – this is the one thing in the pregnancy I can understand and empathise with. If you’re a woman and reading this and you’ve ever had a smear test you know exactly what this was like. If you’re a woman and reading this and you’ve never had a smear test get your ass to the GP and get it sorted cause it’s damn important.
Horrible but important.
It hurt, a lot.
That’s all I think I need to say.
Everything was fine though. If it wasn’t we wouldn’t have gone and had lunch I suppose. They just said the same as before- look out for all those signs of labour (a show, waters breaking) or if there was any blood call 999. Other than that we carried with our day. We’d arrived at the hospital around nine. We left at one pm. Long morning. More so for bethend. She’s done so well during this whole thing and I’m always amazed by her ability to do this.
We met the nicest midwife. The doctor was lovely too and it was quite nice to meet some of the staff on the ward, because the people who’ve been looking after us for the last eight months are not the same people who will be there for the birth. Which is a shame in some ways because we’ve met some great midwives over the last eight months. We’re very lucky here. The midwife we met today was lovely, same-sex couples are her favourite. She wanted to know all about how we’d conceived and when she found I had been the one to actually inseminate bethend she hugged me. She thinks we’re lovely.
Hopefully, she’ll be around when bethend actually gives birth too.
We were given the birth plan last week, and finally had a chance (and remembered) to look over it during breakfast today. Sometime over the next week our midwife Amy is supposed to visit the house to talk over the birth plan with us and anything else we might need to discuss. Bethend is already pretty sure she doesn’t want an epidural or pethidine, and I don’t want her to have them either but I will support her no matter what. Even if she changes her mind, even if she needs a c-section. No matter what. It’s not that we want a totally natural birth or anything like that, but more like we don’t like the side effects of an epidural. Hell, I don’t like the primary effects of an epidural. And pethidine is a really, really strong drug – it’s a schedule two controlled drug. At the pharmacy, we have to count exactly how many tablets we have of it every week and document its incomings and outgoings. Every single time. It’s dangerous, serious and should only be used when absolutely necessary.
And bethend is stupidly strong and has a very high pain threshold. Even before the accident. Her only problem is not knowing when to stop or when to say she needs help. She has always pushed herself, sometimes too hard and too far.
That’s what I’m for though. She listens to me and knows that when I’m being harsh with her it’s because she’s past the point where she should’ve stopped.
Having said that, I personally would’ve liked her to have finished work already. Especially when she started having those contractions but she’s not at her limit yet. She finishes at the nursery proper tomorrow and works with older kids for the next couple of weeks or so. I know she gets bored easily, but there’s plenty of jobs to do that she will probably still attempt. I get a couple of weeks starting from the birth (or the start of labour) and I find it easy to take time off.
Not that I’ll have time to relax or be lazy of course.
Any time Now
He’s due in the next four weeks. People keep telling bethend he’ll come early, but I feel more than ready for him to arrive. Maybe not at work but I don’t feel so bad now more things have been organised.
I aware this is all getting very personal – I think it’s a fine line and I don’t want to cross it, I never do. Some things I should keep to myself, to ourselves and I’m going to be trying to figure out what those are as we go along. So bear with me. And any thoughts or advice on the matter would be more than welcome.