It's just 7 am and you're led swaddled on my chest with your soft, fine hair tickling my chin. Your sweet little snores are blending perfectly with your Papi's and the furry monsters who are at the foot of our bed. You've slept since 11 PM and I had to wake you at 6.10 AM so we could start on the first booby feed of the day. You are 8 weeks and 5 days old, where has the time gone? It feels like you've been part of our life forever, but at the same time as if our time is whizzing by.
Sometimes when I look at you my heart feels like it is swelling to the point of bursting. I still can't quite believe you are here and that you are so perfect.
I feel like I'm already missing out on so much with you.
I'm conscious that mummy is glued to her phone during feeding times and each time I've glanced down and caught you gazing at me, it's broken my heart to realize I've missed some vital bonding moment in favor of my stupid phone.
I feel guilty for rushing your feeds so I can have a few more minutes of freedom before you want to plug back in again. That sometimes I will tell myself that you can't possibly he hungry again so soon and that just one more minute to finish my whatever won't hurt.
How many times have I already willingly handed you over so that Mummy can rush to the work laptop and respond to a business email or return a call or finish a design.
Mummy feels guilty for having to work whilst you are still so tiny, but being the only earner and caring for you all also means that sadly mummy has no choice.
In light of all the things I feel I may miss, I vow to try and remember and cherish all the tiny things you do that make my heart soar just that little bit higher.
I love the way when you've just been woken from a nap you draw your legs up, raise your arms, arch your back, turn your head to the side and do the cutest Mick Jagger pout! I am determined to get a video of this so I can still get my daily fix when you no longer sleep in my arms.
I love your serious expression that constantly morphs into grumpy cat while you are sleeping and looks identical to the face of Big Nanny the last time I saw her, a bitter sweet experience every time it happens.
I love when you have been unsettled and wailing for everyone else and when I take you and try to soothe you, you finally settle.
I love the trembling lower lip that seems to come on when you are sad, but we just can't seem to figure out why.
Your new "girly" scream is adorable and I think the fact that Papi hates it is hilarious. I call it your not getting your own way scream as it's the one you use when you are feeling whiny for no particular reason.
You have been able to use real tears since you were two days old and although initially it would pull at my heart strings, it now makes me chuckle that you have this weapon in your arsenal. It works on most family members and they will put that extra effort into trying to console you when those real tears make an appearance.
I love how you are so petite and feminine and yet you burp, parp and poop like a trooper! Seriously, your poor Papi has been blamed countless times for your loud noises.
I love how you are seemingly addicted to the television. It doesn't matter where we are, or where you are placed in a room, that tiny head of yours will constantly swivel around to seek out the television. Just like Mummy.
We are cherishing every night that you give us a whole night sleep (surely almost a month of them now!). We know not to get complacent or to take them for granted, but I love the fact that you're addicted to sleep (at night anyway) as much as Mummy.
I cannot contain my love when I see a feature or mannerism that so perfectly mirrors my own, it is breath taking.
The fact that you are so tiny (most of your clothing is still premature or tiny baby size!), but your temper and strength is off the scale. You've had amazing head support and neck strength from your very first day and that temper goes from chilled angel to screaming demon in nanoseconds. Though she be but little, she is fierce.
How do I love thee? I actually couldn't count the ways. I hope I never forget a single precious moment that we spend together and that the times we are apart or that Mummy seems distracted by work is over-shadowed by the memories we make and the love I shower on you.
Friday 15 April 2016
The Pregnancy
I want to keep this blog focused on the arrival of our little girl, but figured that sometimes a bit of background helps to set the scene.
As mentioned in the about post, we had struggled for just shy of 6 years to conceive. We suffered our first miscarriage in October 2010 and our second in May 2012. In this time the Mr's health had taken a definite turn for the worst and we had the added pressure of trying to have a child whilst he could still manage to play and care for them.
After lots of testing and years of intense trying, we finally got a break when the NHS changed their criteria for IVF and we were offered a course of treatment at Dorchester hospital. The IVF itself wasn't too bad, a few side effects, but we figured it was worth it if it made our dream come true!
A few days after the egg transfer I took a turn for the worst. Initially I thought it was just the usual side effects intensifying, but then I couldn't wee and I figured something wasn't right. A call to the hospital with this new worrying symptom saw me being admitted for something called Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome (OHSS). It was explained that my blood was being stripped of fluid and that the fluid was being dumped in my abdomen.
I was in hospital for just shy of a week and boy was I uncomfortable! My stomach was distended, I felt like I couldn't breathe and no position seemed comfortable. After 5 days of a combination of IV fluids and albumin, I finally started to feel better and was discharged.
Less than 24 hours after leaving the hospital my abdomen starter to distend, but this time at a much faster pace. Every breath felt like fire and yet again my ability to wee had gone. I thought I felt like crap before, but this was terrifying.
After being advised to return to the hospital for re-admittance ASAP, I started to worry. After an agonizing 45 minute drive to the hospital (I was lucky enough to get my treatment the next county over for reasons unknown) I was terrified. I had puffed up like the stay puft marshmallow man (seriously, I was hulking out of my clothes) and any ability to bend at the waist had been lost hours before.
An x ray and blood test confirmed I had partially collapsed lung due to the fluid and my kidneys had shut down. Further testing the next day revealed damage to my liver, fluid on my heart and just shy of two stone in weight of fluid accumulation all over my body. I started struggling to breathe and was put on oxygen and sedated to try and rest. I was upgraded to a high dependency ward and there was talk about sending me to intensive care.
My general condition was pretty bad, but there was good news. My OHSS was previously in remission, but it had now spiked to severe. The fertility team told me that this generally only happens when the pregnancy hormone hCG comes into contact with the OHSS. It was early days bit they were confident I was pregnant.
Two weeks and a stomach drain later, my pregnancy was confirmed! A stone and a half of fluid had either been peed out or drained from my rather gross stomach tap. I was ready for home! We were elated but also facing the reality that another course of IVF was out of the question for us. I would almost certainly contract the most severe case of OHSS again, but this time there was a chance I wouldn't pull through.
I was wildly optimistic about this pregnancy though. I'd known from the beginning of the second one that we wouldn't make it, but this one felt different. To me it felt like the brush with death and agony of the OHSS was payment in advance for our baby.
When we had our scan at almost 8 weeks I was moved to tears at the heartbeat on the screen. Both of our previous pregnancies had been lost at the same time, 6+2 weeks. To have made it to almost 8 and to finally see a heartbeat cemented in my mind that this one was for keeps.
Our next drama came at the 12 weeks combined scan where tests revealed the baby was at a high risk for Edward's and Patau's Syndrome (T18 and T13). The news was delivered over the telephone by a somewhat cold midwife who was telling us this was a death sentence for our baby and pushing us towards an amniocentesis. When I'd made it quite clear an amnio was out of the question she finally gave us advice on a new private test called Harmony where a sample of my blood was taken and the baby's DNA removed and tested. It was none invasive to the baby and could be the answer to our prayers.
So off we went to Harley Street in London (yes it cost a pretty penny) and I had my blood test and a 45 minute ultrasound. The ultrasound was carried out by a user that was experienced in fetal abnormalities and we came away feeling reassured but anxious for the results. We were told 5 days later that the test had failed and we had to travel back to London for another sample. We had spoken to our midwife who dismissed the ultrasound findings and again mentioned the dreaded amniocentesis. During our second visit we saw a different ultrasound technician who was surprised we had come back as the first ultrasound results were so good. We explained that our midwife had disregarded the scan and that we were understandably worried. He took pity on us and re-confirmed all the measurements from the first scan and then told us the blessed news that in his experience there was always a physical marker that was picked up at the scan and our baby was perfect. When the second test came back as failed again (less than 3% of the population cannot have their DNA separated and I was one of the lucky ones!) we decided to draw a line under it and focus on the second ultrasound technicians words.
At the 20 week scan the baby was measuring small and they confirmed there was weakness in the placenta. From that point on we had to have regular growth scans and answer to the fact we had declined an amniocentesis at every appointment. At 32 weeks I was put on early maternity leave as the baby was hovering over the threshold for intervention. Throughout it all our little fighter was kicking and elbowing me so much and so frequently we knew she'd be fine.
Baby Ellie was born naturally on Saturday 23rd January 2016, she came out screaming and has continued in that fashion ever since. She is perfect (but very angry) and we count our lucky stars almost hourly, but my goodness she is hard work.
As mentioned in the about post, we had struggled for just shy of 6 years to conceive. We suffered our first miscarriage in October 2010 and our second in May 2012. In this time the Mr's health had taken a definite turn for the worst and we had the added pressure of trying to have a child whilst he could still manage to play and care for them.
After lots of testing and years of intense trying, we finally got a break when the NHS changed their criteria for IVF and we were offered a course of treatment at Dorchester hospital. The IVF itself wasn't too bad, a few side effects, but we figured it was worth it if it made our dream come true!
A few days after the egg transfer I took a turn for the worst. Initially I thought it was just the usual side effects intensifying, but then I couldn't wee and I figured something wasn't right. A call to the hospital with this new worrying symptom saw me being admitted for something called Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome (OHSS). It was explained that my blood was being stripped of fluid and that the fluid was being dumped in my abdomen.
I was in hospital for just shy of a week and boy was I uncomfortable! My stomach was distended, I felt like I couldn't breathe and no position seemed comfortable. After 5 days of a combination of IV fluids and albumin, I finally started to feel better and was discharged.
Less than 24 hours after leaving the hospital my abdomen starter to distend, but this time at a much faster pace. Every breath felt like fire and yet again my ability to wee had gone. I thought I felt like crap before, but this was terrifying.
After being advised to return to the hospital for re-admittance ASAP, I started to worry. After an agonizing 45 minute drive to the hospital (I was lucky enough to get my treatment the next county over for reasons unknown) I was terrified. I had puffed up like the stay puft marshmallow man (seriously, I was hulking out of my clothes) and any ability to bend at the waist had been lost hours before.
An x ray and blood test confirmed I had partially collapsed lung due to the fluid and my kidneys had shut down. Further testing the next day revealed damage to my liver, fluid on my heart and just shy of two stone in weight of fluid accumulation all over my body. I started struggling to breathe and was put on oxygen and sedated to try and rest. I was upgraded to a high dependency ward and there was talk about sending me to intensive care.
My general condition was pretty bad, but there was good news. My OHSS was previously in remission, but it had now spiked to severe. The fertility team told me that this generally only happens when the pregnancy hormone hCG comes into contact with the OHSS. It was early days bit they were confident I was pregnant.
Two weeks and a stomach drain later, my pregnancy was confirmed! A stone and a half of fluid had either been peed out or drained from my rather gross stomach tap. I was ready for home! We were elated but also facing the reality that another course of IVF was out of the question for us. I would almost certainly contract the most severe case of OHSS again, but this time there was a chance I wouldn't pull through.
I was wildly optimistic about this pregnancy though. I'd known from the beginning of the second one that we wouldn't make it, but this one felt different. To me it felt like the brush with death and agony of the OHSS was payment in advance for our baby.
When we had our scan at almost 8 weeks I was moved to tears at the heartbeat on the screen. Both of our previous pregnancies had been lost at the same time, 6+2 weeks. To have made it to almost 8 and to finally see a heartbeat cemented in my mind that this one was for keeps.
Our next drama came at the 12 weeks combined scan where tests revealed the baby was at a high risk for Edward's and Patau's Syndrome (T18 and T13). The news was delivered over the telephone by a somewhat cold midwife who was telling us this was a death sentence for our baby and pushing us towards an amniocentesis. When I'd made it quite clear an amnio was out of the question she finally gave us advice on a new private test called Harmony where a sample of my blood was taken and the baby's DNA removed and tested. It was none invasive to the baby and could be the answer to our prayers.
So off we went to Harley Street in London (yes it cost a pretty penny) and I had my blood test and a 45 minute ultrasound. The ultrasound was carried out by a user that was experienced in fetal abnormalities and we came away feeling reassured but anxious for the results. We were told 5 days later that the test had failed and we had to travel back to London for another sample. We had spoken to our midwife who dismissed the ultrasound findings and again mentioned the dreaded amniocentesis. During our second visit we saw a different ultrasound technician who was surprised we had come back as the first ultrasound results were so good. We explained that our midwife had disregarded the scan and that we were understandably worried. He took pity on us and re-confirmed all the measurements from the first scan and then told us the blessed news that in his experience there was always a physical marker that was picked up at the scan and our baby was perfect. When the second test came back as failed again (less than 3% of the population cannot have their DNA separated and I was one of the lucky ones!) we decided to draw a line under it and focus on the second ultrasound technicians words.
At the 20 week scan the baby was measuring small and they confirmed there was weakness in the placenta. From that point on we had to have regular growth scans and answer to the fact we had declined an amniocentesis at every appointment. At 32 weeks I was put on early maternity leave as the baby was hovering over the threshold for intervention. Throughout it all our little fighter was kicking and elbowing me so much and so frequently we knew she'd be fine.
Baby Ellie was born naturally on Saturday 23rd January 2016, she came out screaming and has continued in that fashion ever since. She is perfect (but very angry) and we count our lucky stars almost hourly, but my goodness she is hard work.
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