t-20: napping

The best part of pre-natal maternity leave is the naps.

20 days til baby Cletus

UPDATE: you can have too many naps, turns out, didn’t sleep well last night – a bit grumpy today!

I saw a dogwood

I saw a dogwood in bloom today.

I haven’t seen a dogwood in bloom for 11 years. Really.

They’re pretty rare in England. In fact, I don’t think this is a Cornus florida (the common dogwood we know in the South East USA) – but probably something a little different. Still, I was pretty excited. It was at the RHS Wisley botannical gardens.

t-21: ante-natal class, 2nd time

Last week we were late to our ante-natal (pre-natal) classes. These are free and offered by the NHS at the hospital where I’m registered to give birth. (Yes, I’m scheduled for a home birth, but attended by employees of this hospital trust). We only live across the street from this place, but the Vol-in-Law was very grumpy, didn’t really want to go and dragged his ass and so we were late.

I was FURIOUS. And I mean, spittin’ mad. I was so mad that I might have felt sorry for him for having to put up with me, if he hadn’t been the cause of me being so mad.

And things didn’t get any better once we got to the class. They were doing group activities where we flip charted our expectations for the class. And because we were late, somebody else had the flip chart pen. Because of the ViL and his arse dragging, that meant I didn’t have the flip chart pen or at least the opportunity to magnanimously decline the flip chart pen, despite my superior facilitiation skills or the fact that my usual day rate for facilitation is probably around half the other woman’s monthly take home (not that I actually get that money, but still). And then she committed the flip charting faux pas of actually altering someone’s point as she charted it (it’s ok to abbreviate although you should ask, it’s never OK to change).

A woman said that one of her expectations for the class was to learn about breastfeeding. Well Miss Flip Chart Pen said “Yes, they’re a bit heavy handed on the breast feeding. Not everyone can do that. I’ll just put down feeding.” And then she proceeded to put down “Feeding. Different methods.” (BTW, it would have been OK, if she’d said – yes, breastfeeding – but I’ll put down formula feeding, too – as she was a participant-facilitator.)

I thought I kept schtum about it, but apparently I harrumphed. I didn’t really want to become a breastfeeding Nazi. But heck, there are fewer and fewer privileges to being well-educated and middle class and if I can’t look down on people for their inferior feeding choices then that list just got unacceptably short.

I did start to feel a little bit better when another woman arrived even later than we did. And she was alone. She said “My husband doesn’t like hospitals,” and she sat down – all our eyes upon her.

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We talked about this later in the week and the importance of the ViL attending and why we needed to be on time. We talked about how important it was for me not to be the woman who showed up alone, how I didn’t want people to think that I was a single mom.

Like that other woman, the ViL said. Who couldn’t even manage to get her husband to show up for birth class.
Yes, I said.
And everyone else was thinking. Oh dear, she can’t manage to even get her husband to show up for birth class.
Yes, I said.
And that she knew that’s what everyone else was thinking.
Yes, I said. I mean how does she expect to be a decent parent if she can’t even control her husband?

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We weren’t late this week. But there were some other disappointing things about the class. This week was about pain relief and the 2nd stage of labor (the pushing bit). The midwife teaching the class seemed terribly pro-epidural. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad epidurals exist. But there are trade-offs with every medical choice you make.

In her talk, there was very little about the possible side-effects of epidurals and it was only when pressed that the reality of being paralysed from the waist down emerged.

If you have an epidural:

1. you will be put on a fetal monitor
2. you will be put on an iv
3. you will be catheterised

The fetal monitor thing doesn’t sound so bad, but many people complain that medical staff focus on the numbers and not them. Also, if baby’s numbers jump (as I suspect they might in the drama of birth) you’ll be whisked off for an emergency c-section.

Not only that, but epidurals, the midwife granted usually slow down labor – simply because you can’t get up and about and let gravity be your friend. (Even with a “mobile epidural” that only means that you can move your legs, they won’t actually support you.) In a hospital birth, she said, you have to be on a pathway of progression. And once the second stage kicks in (post 10 cm dilation) – if you have an epidural you have ONE HOUR only to get the baby out, otherwise – it’s c-section city. Without an epidural, they give you more time. Plus you’re more likely to have other interventions (ventouse or forceps assisted delivery and episiotomies) if you’ve had an epi.

I’ll grant the midwife some credit, she did admit that sometimes epis fail to work at all – or in my imaginings – even worse – they only numb half your body.

Oh, yeah. Plus they put a big old needle in your back. I’ve had a needle in my back before and I can’t say I enjoyed it. I was sick with high fever for days around the time I turned 18, in hospital, on demerrol, the whole thing was really a blur – but I do remember that spinal tap. Quite clearly recall it and the fear I felt.

Apparently, at my hospital there’s an 80% epidural rate for first time mothers. I’m not saying that some people don’t progress a lot better with an epi than without, but somehow that epi rate seems really high. (It’s true that our hospital does deal with a LOT more high risk deliveries than most – it’s a centre of excellence for such things – but still…)

Anyway, I’ve decided that an epidural is not for me. And while things can change – what won’t change is that I’ve definitely decided I’m not going for an epidural as a first option. Of course, with a home birth – it’s not actually an option at all.

21 days til baby Cletus

Why I love the internet

Ahh, the internet. Bless.

Let’s take that word apart. Inter I think that means something about connections between or across and net meaning tied strands in many different directions. These multi-faceted connections means that we can all put our heads together to come up with some solutions.

Here’s a recent example. I was confused about something. I posted on it. Commenters commented. And then one reader provided a tutorial on her site.

All my questions answered. I now have a vaguely unpleasant taste in my mouth, but all my questions have been answered.

how to hack off two major interest groups

If there’s one thing that the Brits like, it’s animals. Especially cute fluffy animals, but all animals really. They take animal cruelty seriously. In fact, only recently, tough new laws on animal care have come into force. And since the rather heavy handed Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA) will be the ones knocking down my door if its revealed that I don’t take good enough care of my cats, this actually strikes a little fear in my heart. It’s not enough just not to beat the critters, you’ve got to provide a good standard of care now if you take on animal ownership.

There’s another charity, too. Not nearly as popular, but still well known – the NSPCC – the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. They can’t take your kids away, fine you or put you in jail (like the RSPCA) but they can rat on you to social services, who can. The NSPCC is famous for adds that tug at the old heart strings – like a sad-eyed, quiet toddler and a voice-over “Mikey is quiet because he’s learned that nobody comes when he cries.” (Hmm – is there a book with tips?) Or ads that try to encourage parents to stop and think about their behaviour before it becomes abuse. Although, one of their campaigns last summer featured a 10 year old boy, repeatedly kicking a ball against a holiday caravan (vacation trailer home – yeah, I know, Brits like the strangest things) and the mum, who is washing up inside while dad reads the paper – and then finally she goes out there and yells at kid. Oh no!!! She yells at him. But she looks lower class and her voice is shrill and quite angry, so it must be verbal abuse. (If you ask me, the little blighter had it coming.)

Anyway, with this photo (an update to this post about baby sweaters) I’m courting disapproval from both lobbies.

Other Cat has learned that nobody comes when she meows.

And yes, I will put that sweater on baby Cletus.

t-22: a note to Alabamians

For my color blind Alabama friends (here and here) who say hurtful things like:

Tennessee orange = hunter orange
Tennessee orange = pickin-up-trash-by-the-side-of-the-road orange

I would just like to point out the difference.

My mom, a Tennessean by birth and alumna (a couple of times over) of the University of Tennessee made this outfit for baby Cletus:

And you gotta click thru to see the orange top-stitching

But my friend, a Brit, who doesn’t understand the ways and subtleties of orange, made Cletus this:

Now…you see that is blaze orange. See.

Scroll up and down. Spot the difference. Adjust your monitor if necessary. One is a bright golden orange (the top photo) and one is a safety beacon.

And again:

Still, this blaze orange sweater might come in quite handy – for example, if he were wearing this…

…just on its own, we might lose the baby if we accidentally set him down in a pile of leaves.

22 days til baby Cletus

t-23: homebirth bag

OK, since I’ve reset my due date for my own convenience – it’s actually officially 21 days away according to my doctor and midwives. From today, Cletus is counted as a full term baby by the National Health Service. From today, the NHS will support my home birth should I go into labor. Yesterday, I would have been pre-term and would have had to go across the street to the hospital. Today, I’m full term and they have to come across the street to me.

Today the midwifes’ assistant delivered a bag that says “Homebirth bag Vol Abroad”* printed out on a sheet of paper and fastened to said bag by copious amounts of tape.

It doesn’t say not to mess with it, so I’m presuming I could open up the bag and have a good old root around.

The bag is quite heavy. I know that the NHS supports the use of nitrous oxide for pain relief in home birth deliveries (as in hospital). What if there is a cannister of nitrous in there?

I’ve already been warned that the bottles they give for home birth are quite small, so I’ll need to hold off on the nitrous til the more painful bits (will they let me know which those are? will it be obvious?). They said they didn’t want to have to go back to the hospital for more gas.

I told them that I’d be more than happy to send the Vol-in-Law for a new tank. They did not seem to take this on board.

You see, I’ve used nitrous for pain relief and for recreation. And while it’s ok on the pain relief (it just kinda takes the edge off) – it can be really fun, too. (If you know what I mean – whomp, whomp, whomp). It seems a shame to hold off using it until I really need it.

So I should get into the bag or not?

23 days til baby Cletus

*clearly it has my real name on it.

t-24: last day

Today was my last day in the office. My due date is three weeks away and I am really feeling the effects of gravity now. Lumbering in to the office, changing trains, fighting for a seat, eyeing up young men for their potential to commit mass terror on the Underground – these are all things I’m not going to miss.

Things I will miss: my actual work. I like it. I have an interesting job. But I’m not quitting work cold turkey. I’m weaning myself off work. I’m not officially on maternity leave, but instead have started off with a week’s worth of vacation days. So – I’ve arranged to do a little bit of work next week – probably about 2 days over the 5, just to wind down.

25 24 days til baby Cletus

Popular beat combo

I keep seeing this word “emo” to describe some kind of new fangled musical stylings.

What is it? Can someone direct me to the quintessential downloadable clip?

Is it some kind of “txt” version of the power ballad? I mean are kids too lazy to type out whole words these days?

And why does it have its own overwrought I-cut-this-myself-because-I-hate-you hair style, as in:

but, all his hair combed forward, emo style, is just silly looking

I feel old.

Taller than on the internet

I’m used to the idea that celebreties are smaller than they appear on tv or the big screen (not that I ever go to the cinema).

But this well-known conservative British blogger was much taller than I expected. I saw him at an event last night where he pretty much defended the reputation of blogging single-handedly. Well, he did when he was given the opportunity for an edgewise word. I won’t go on about it, ’cause I will be blogging for work on this, too – but just a few points:

• Blogging is all noise and no voice.
• Blogging is too agressive and male-oriented to be a truly democratic movement.
• It’s too hard for the little bloggers to get heard.

Errr…blogging is about individuals. This blog is my individual point of view. This is my voice. If you think it sounds like noise, you’re more than welcome to go elsewhere. What’s that Ms. Professional Journalist – you didn’t hear what I was saying? You were too busy spouting off your opinion? For money? Still, it’s a good thing that a slip of a girl like you has made such good headway in such a male dominated profession like journalism.

I just do not get why people who are in exclusive professions like PR, mainstream journalism, or books complain about blogs (free to run, anyone with internet access can do it) for being too exclusive. And as for the little blogs not getting heard, I’ve come to the conclusion that the best bloggers – the ones who get read the most are written by the people who listen*, who are part of a community. Blowhards always reveal themselves. Just like real life.

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*my empathy-expression and listening skills have always been areas for improvement, but at least I know this.