There’s so much more to it than I ever thought possible.
I’ve just spoken with work. They are finalising my holiday pay, and I’ll be technically unemployed from today.
Why am I so happy? They have asked me to come back when I am ready, on a casual basis, for as many days as I can handle, when I can handle it.
It’s nice to feel loved 🙂
More privilege for the privileged – SMH.
Private schools cater to 30% of the population, and get 70% of federal funding. How can you possibly justify that Mr Sheen?
PS. Ampersand will be going to public school. Unless I completely lose my mind and decide to homeschool.
Thanks everyone for your lovely comments and support. The last week has been pretty challenging, but at least I have learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. The pills that the Dr at the hospital prescribed were $91.35 for ten tablets, and I was to take 2-4 per day. I took the last pill on monday night, and spent most of yesterday in bed. Today I dragged myself off to Cherryhills for the knitting group, and managed to put on a brave face after 10 minutes of deep breathing in the car after the drive. I had a lovely time, and I do hope that my colourful language wasn’t upsetting the regulars.
Candy invited me over for lunch, but I as ready to get back to bed after all that excitement. Was home in time for Oprah, but fell asleep during the first segment, and woke up to Judge Judy – the horror!
Got up to do some useful stuff, felt vile, went back to bed. At 4.30pm, I put the dishwasher on, and cut up some veggies to bake for dinner. This furious burst of activity was enough to have me racing for the toilet again, and after that I slunk back to bed with my tail between my legs.
Tomorrow, I was planning on spending most of the day working on my secret project, but since I’ve discovered that activity sets off my nausea, I think I’ll be doing more knitting, and less getting out of bed. Or maybe I’ll visit the GP and try to get a referral to an obstetrician – though I don’t think I’ll need one long term, it might be good to talk to an expert about what is happening to me right now, and maybe get some answers. And I’ve decided it wouldn’t kill me to see what sort of early intervention programs for pre natal depression are available. I may not need it, but if anyone has a red flag over their head for PND, it would be me – and my experience of pregnancy has been pretty awful so far.
In case you’re interested, I am now into my 15th week, well into the second trimester. 182 days to go.
There is something in the air at Club Denistone, and I haven’t wanted to blog about it in fear of jinxing it. Suffice it to say that if you’re in the mood for crossing your fingers and sending some luck our way, it would be greatly appreciated.
Something I can tell you about, is our adventures last night. Sensitive readers may want to look away, because there is yucky stuff involved.
I have reached the second trimester, and am (apparently) supposed to start to feel better.Until last night, I was waiting in naive hope that my energy levels would increase, and my all day constant companion of nausea would fly away. Yesterday I spent a lovely day with Mandy, pottering about the house, having tea and cake, shopping, and cooking. We even dyed some yarn. After she left, I was pretty tired, and aware that I had probably pushed myself a bit too much. Until about 11pm, I barely left the couch, and was feeling worse and worse. Just after 11, I dragged myself into bed, and then had to race to the bathroom to throw up. Usually, after I throw up, I start to feel better immediately, so I washed my face and crawled back to bed.
Within 10 minutes, I was hurling again, and every 10 minutes after that for the next two and a half hours. At 1.30pm, I had had enough, and was ready to kill myself to stop the vomiting. Mark drove me to hospital.
I was so dehydrated that they had trouble finding a vein, David the 12 year old doctor had to dig about in the back of my hand for a few minutes before giving up and trying my right hand. Eventually he found a vein and took some blood (I am so very brave – I didn’t pass out), and then a nurse cam in with a miracle cure that had me feeling better within seconds of the shot.
An hour or so on a drip, and they offered me a choice of admission, or going back home. I chose home, and we were tucked up in bed just after 3am.
Apparently what I have is called hyperemesis. And it might go away today, or last for several months. The horror…
I haven’t read Freakonomics, but I have heard quite a bit about it, and am intrigued by the book. So I was interested to see Kris link to the Frekonomics blog today. One post struck me as interesting, but missing something.
This post talks about the rapid decline in Down’s Syndrome births since routine testing became available, but questions the almost universal decision to abort when faced with a positive test result. Many sides of the issue are discussed, but what is not mentioned is the long term care that many such infants will need. For me, the overwhelming deciding factor is not wanting to die and leave a dependant child who has never known a life away from home. I’m not going to live forever, so having a dependant at age 37 that will still need care in their 50’s is not rational.
Luckily, my test results have been analysed in conjunction with my blood test, and the adjusted result is a 1:934 chance of Down’s, and greater than 1:5000 chance of the other syndromes tested for.
And in unrelated news, mum bought me a maternity bra today. An E cup. E for FREAKING ENORMOUS!
Thanks everyone! I think my mind is made up, I just need to decide when. I’ll take another week off and discuss things with the parents (who get back on Monday, yay!), and maybe go back for a few weeks to work out my notice. I’ve had an offer of part time work, which would be a great, low stress way to earn a few extra dollars.
You are right – quality of life HAS to be central to the decision. I am feeling wobbly enough without adding work stress into the mix.
Off to the GP now (for another certificate), then I’m going out to lunch by myself. I think the spewing is over for today. Touch wood.
I’ve been overwhelmed by how much support I’ve had from people when they hear the news. It’s almost like the tribe is welcoming a new member.
The lovely Bex made the most gorgeous bootees I have ever seen. Unfortunately I couldn’t get a better picture than this – but I promise that when I get my lightbox set up, these will be the first things that I photograph properly. You really need to see the disco glitter buttons. Perfect!
And thanks to Twinkie, Donna and Em, my favourite bunnyhuggers (and bunny). The first book of the knitting murder mystery series (I had already read book two). I am so touched by this gift – Donna, you are an absolute jewel, I am loving reading something that isn’t about pregnancy! And this came as a birthday gift – perfect timing to make me think about my needs instead of the baby.
And this is from the ever gorgeous Kate. A bath melt from Lush called Ceridwen’s Cauldron, and three balls of gorgeous fuzzy orange yarn. I don’t know why she thought I would like it 😉 As well as the orangeness and the fuzziness, it also has a core of soft alpaca. My favourite! Now I just need to work out what to knit with it. Maybe a teddy?Â
So it’s been a great week for feeling loved. And the love didn’t stop. I got my Bendigo order earlier in the week, and today I came home to both the new interweave Knits (well before I expected it).
And a postcard from the sorely missed parents.
Who’s a lucky girl?
So. Nuchal Translucency Scan day today. Appointment was at 9.30am, got the results at 3pm. 1:908 chance of Trisomy 21 (Down’s Syndrome), and 1:2795 chance of Trisomy 13 and 18 (someone else’s syndromes). I also had another blood test (only 2 litres this time), and the results of that test may or may not change those numbers. If the numbers don’t indicate an increased risk, then I don’t think we’ll have any further tests.
Got some more pictures of &, but won’t scan them for the blog because ultrasound pictures are boring.
Instead, I bring you my St Vinnies purchases for today.
First, a hand knit and handspun child’s jumper with koalas. $3. I hope the talented knitter who made this knows that the jumper is loved again.
Secondly, since I decided that now would be an appropriate time to start bonding with the invader (because, after all, mothers day is coming up), so I bought Volume 1 and 2 of “Mother Love” – stories about births, babies, and beyond. A welcome change to the pregnancy books. $1 each.
I also bought a 1970’s book of animals with loads of colour pictures. Because if this kid has any future mapped out already, it’s a future as an animal lover. $3. $8 all up.
And speaking of animals, her is a picture of our newest family member, in her new house.
I also popped in to Cherryhills today for the S’nB, and met Grandma Flea. She is even lovelier than I expected (and I had pretty high expectations), and she makes a fabulous lemon cake. Yum! Purchases were made (no yarn, baby pattern books), pictures to come later.
(notice how the pregnant goes before the woman? A little sinister if you ask me)
5am Awake. AWAKE!!!!! Pee. Grab laptop and obsessively read all new items in my news aggregator. Can you bloggers post a little more? Or recommend some really prolific and entertaining blogs? I am reduced to reading the new mac software announcements. It’s a little sad. Drink a large amount of juice mixed with soda water.
7am Mark gets up and makes me coffee just as I crash.
8am Wake to cold coffee and a cold baked potato. Kind husband takes pity and microwaves coffee while I pee again. I should note that coffee now consists of a bucket of calcium enriched vanilla soy milk with a healthy dose of Nestle Chocolate Quik Plus (fortified with iron and calcium & stuff). No actual coffee to speak of – aren’t I good?
8.30am Call Pennant Hills Diagnostic Centre to schedule my 12 week scan. Am booked in for 9.30am tomorrow.
10am Still in bed, perking up, contemplating the mountain of work that needs to be done before our rental inspection this afternoon. Receive phone call from dear friend with 1 year old child who volunteers to come over for moral support.
10.40am In a burst of enthusiasm, leap out of bed, start tidying and cleaning, put dishwasher on, put out recycling.
10.45am Back in bed. Feeling vile again.
And so on….
Until 8.30 tonight, when I put “The Joy Luck Club” in the DVD player, and wept uncontrollably for 2 hours.
This post is about birth defects, and abortion. Strong opinions and upsetting subjects are aired within. Please don’t read on if you are easily upset.
Sally told me about this the other day, but I couldn’t find any info on the intertron about it.
A minor in Ireland has been prevented from leaving the country in order to obtain an abortion. That’s a pretty awful story, but that sort of thing is probably quite common in countries that do not allow elective terminations. The complicating factor in this case is that the foetus has a condition that means it cannot live for more than a few days after birth.
Sheer bastardry.
Nobody wants to have an abortion. Nobody seeks out the experience. Nobody has the procedure and then gets on with their life without consequences, depression, insomnia, feelings of worthlessness, fear for future fertility – there are many and varied repercussions, most of them long term, and very unpleasant. It is a painful, and impossibly difficult choice for most women, and none of us has the right to judge from outside.
But surely, even the most rabid right to lifer has to admit that giving birth to a child without a brain, that cannot survive a week after birth, is far worse?
As I prepare for my 12 week scan, the scan that will give me a probability that Ampersand has a serious genetic problem, these sorts of issues have been in my mind a lot. Even though I have a very fixed idea of what I will do if the baby has a serious problem, it is not a decision I could take lightly, and I could never tell another woman how she should react in similar circumstances.
A decision like this is for each of us to make on our own, with our own individual circumstances. None of us could say how we would feel, or what we would do in these devastating circumstances, but my heart goes out to this young girl who has had this difficult choice taken away from her.
Disco Knitter 