Friday 28 November 2008
One toy box to rule them all
Suffice it to say, uncle Alex has redeemed himself after buying, in cahoots with Pop, a metal hammer amongst other destructive buildery type things for the Cuinn-kid.
Thursday 27 November 2008
Wednesday 26 November 2008
In the immortal words of Charlie Brown
Good grief.
That seems a slightly more acceptable alternative to what I came out with at the obstetrician's office this afternoon.
The Cuinn-kid is going great guns - growing like ... heaven knows what ... healthy as a little horse (and same blardy size as one near enough too), sporting a chubby little puku, still covering his face with his hands if we try and get a look at it, and head down. Apparently trying not to face-plant off my swiss ball on a nightly basis has been a bit useful in turning the little demon. Plus, I feel quite good that what I thought was his butt this time actually was, although what I thought was his head is apparently feet, and what I thought was feet is apparently hands ... but you know, one step at a time.
As for size ...what did I say last time? That the kid was expected to triple in size between then (28 weeks) and full term? Yes. Well. Try almost doubling in 4 weeks, leaving us with 8 weeks to get who knows how much bigger. Apparently he's picked up on the fact that daddy is a gargantuan, but has overlooked entirely that mummy most definitely is not. Well, I am heading that way a bit at the moment, but usually I'm not (much) and the important consideration is bone structure, not ass expansion.
At 28 weeks he was 1200 grams thereabouts (2lbs 11 oz), and today he's 2100 grams (4lbs 9oz). Holy crap. No wonder I'm growing out of clothes faster than you can say 'next size up! Quick!'. Best we all pray that he doesn't go overdue ... can you imagine it?
OK. I'm too horrified to type anything else. I'm going to go and pack my hospital bag and hope he arrives about a month early.
Here's the pic I promised .
And one of Jack having a beer, just because.
Tuesday 25 November 2008
There are advantages to being pregnant, oh yes
The guilt-free (well, not entirely guilt-free but close enough to it) inability to assist the husband as he retrieves in several trailer-loads, loads and unloads, stacks, splits, and then loads into the wood shed approximately 8 cubic metres of firewood for next winter, while the temperature outside seems to have gone through the vile muggy sticky roof.
I haven't even got the heart to whinge that I'd just broomed up the backyard over the weekend so it was all lovely looking (I am going to whinge though that after a day of heavy lifting and hard labour, he reeks something chronic).
Poor husband.
Friday 21 November 2008
Thursday 20 November 2008
Cos he is
Uber perfect kiddly threads from Pal Katherine
The problem is going to be keeping up the coolness if we eventually incubate another embryo. WAY down the track.
Anywho. Yes, I continue to be useless, and I do feel bad about it, but to give you an idea of how onto it I am with life in general these days, nevermind bloggy-life, a few days ago the husband left me to dish up dinner and then left the room for some unremembered reason while I accomplished the set task. He came back to find half our dinner on our plates ... and me cleaning the pantry. I still can't decide if it was a step up from me standing outside the loo at Birthcare when I did a tour last weekend, and then stopping a nurse to ask where the loo was. I think perhaps they just go in the basket together.
On an update front - I'm still growing, kiddly is still growing, and both are happening at an alarming rate. By the feel of it, and the fact that feet tend to stick out of my side with alarming regularity exactly where feet are not supposed to be, his Lordship is still embracing the breech way of life, but getting a bit peed off with his cramped confines. Not much I can do about it though other than attempt to balance on my swiss ball on a nightly basis, and continue with nesting, where possible (and where there's someone to crane me off the floor) at ground level on hands and knees. The cat was a bit shocked the other day to find her cat door scrubbed to sparkling ... I'm pretty sure she hasn't been able to see through that thing ever.
Our next obstetrician visit is next week, the last of the four weekers, the one where we meet the other obstetrician who, all being well, won't be delivering our baby, but just in case, will be our back up in case our own obstetrician hasn't realised that if he fails to appear on the big day for any reason short of death and even then I'll be expecting a very good explanation, I will hunt him down and do him harm. Two weeks after that we discuss my birthing plan. I was going really well with planning it until I learned at antenatal classes last weekend that you're not allowed naked flames in the birthing suites ... there goes my plan to float fifty five white candles in individual mineral water pools while listening to the sounds of the forest on DVD ... so back to square one.
I'm going to make you wait till next week for a photo though - it'll accompany the OB update. I promise! As long as my broadband doesn't do to me what it's been doing to me for weeks and have a mental breakdown for several hours around the only part of the day when I manage to sit and think coherently enough to upload photos.
And now, I am about to undertake the increasingly dangerous task of ironing. I have post-its reminding me to turn it off afterwards now though...
Wednesday 12 November 2008
Tuesday 11 November 2008
When idiots attack (in which I have a wee angry moment)
I was riveted by this article in this article in The Herald today - IVF Without Hormones.
Until I got to paragraph 3.
Then, I'd quite happily have smacked Steve Conner upside the head.
Actually, to be honest, I was riveted by the heading, and then I started reading. It was about paragraph 3 that I uttered something unrepeatable and started having to re-read and re-read and re-read to see if I was missing something, but no. I wasn't missing it. It wasn't there to begin with.
The whole article is a gross over-simplification bordering on ... what? I can't think of a suitable word that quite captures the complete lack of ... what?
Suffice it to say that the writer spits in my face to simplify IVF like that.
Actually, that's just it. I think. It's too simplified. It's offensive.
Yes, ok, fine, it's accurate insofar as it does state some facts - one does take stimulating hormones for 2 or 3 weeks for example. But seriously?? One does a shite load more than that, I can blardy well assure you.
It's an article which does nothing to inform or educate, to address prejudice, and it most certainly does not show respect for the topic it approaches. It's ... ack. It's filler. I spit on you Steve Connor for spitting on me. IVF and variations of IVF are not a subject for filling.
The article tells me nothing other than IVM is being explored.
I mean, how exactly, or if that's too hard, don't even be that exact about it, does the process of IVM work in the context of the body's natural function? As in, how do they get around the natural ovulation process bearing in mind that before one is "given hormones for about 2 or 3 weeks" (Steve Connor is an arse) to stimulate the ovaries, one takes drugs to effectively shut one's natural function down for any number of weeks depending on how cocked up one is (we were for example 4 weeks worth of cocked up) and then continues to keep one's natural function shut down with drugs while artificially stimulating it with more drugs to make sure that nature did not interfere with science.
Quoting Sven Lindenberg as the final paragraph that it is "best suited to women who have regular periods" is not enough, for me or the next person. Why? Why is it best suited for women who have regular periods you fool? I know, but do you? And, if you know, the word 'because' is an excellent way to lead into explaining it to the lay person who has just read the article and learned nothing. And, again, it's over-simplified. My guess is that IVM is best suited to women who have regular ovulatory periods. Big ass difference, and the problem with quoting out of context.
Don't even get me started on the rest of its basic flaws. Why may younger women stand a better chance of getting pregnant with IVM? Why is the under 35/over 35 marker significant in the context of IVM? Is the significance any different than with conventional IVF? At what point are the immature eggs harvested? How much shorter is the process? Is paragraph 6 just smoke and mirrors? It looks to me, and I read it about 10 times, that paragraph 7 has the actual initial clinical pregnancy statistics (and incidentally, how many cycles were involved on average?) Then again, we've well established in the last few weeks (Hrrp hmmm ... months ...years) that my brain don't go so good, so maybe I'm just being vile. I get the impression (and that impression comes from my own knowledge, so it possibly wouldn't even occur to the lay person) that the selection criteria for IVM is significantly refined from the selection criteria for conventional IVF - how is it refined?
No wonder people don't get the whole IVF process. No wonder people don't understand the hell and the significance and the sacrifice and the ... ug! when what they are fed through mainstream sources is lacking in what I believe to be basic information. If you're going to dare write on a topic like IVF, educate yourself or stay the hell away.
I'd be staggered if the man had any background at all in this field. And yes, I know there is only so much you can say, and perhaps he had a word limit and included what he thought were the important bits, but this new IVF thing he writes about is huge and the article completely fails to project the significance of it.
If nothing else, imagine the accessibility aspect which is absolutely huge. The price tag for a straight forward ICSI cycle is in the vicinity of $12,000.00. In the course of the cycle you take follicle stimulating hormones for 14 days. The cost of each dose of that hormone is $500.00. Obviously there would be a set off between egg maturation and presumably increased monitoring (due to natural cycle variations) costs, against the eliminated drug costs, but you with me? $7,000.00 of that $12,000.00 is one drug.
Anywho. I go on. Just a little. The stupid article annoyed me a tad.
It's the most crappily handled article since, well, the one about the Huge Decline in Kiwi Sperm Count, which I meant to shred at the time, but forgot. Again, it lacks educative content. It doesn't provide the full picture.
Heh. Pregnancy hormones. 69 days till due date (AAARRGGHHHH!!!).
Imagine what I'll be like in a few more weeks ... not even pictures of John Key holding cute fluffy ginger kittens will be safe.
Until I got to paragraph 3.
Then, I'd quite happily have smacked Steve Conner upside the head.
Actually, to be honest, I was riveted by the heading, and then I started reading. It was about paragraph 3 that I uttered something unrepeatable and started having to re-read and re-read and re-read to see if I was missing something, but no. I wasn't missing it. It wasn't there to begin with.
The whole article is a gross over-simplification bordering on ... what? I can't think of a suitable word that quite captures the complete lack of ... what?
Suffice it to say that the writer spits in my face to simplify IVF like that.
Actually, that's just it. I think. It's too simplified. It's offensive.
Yes, ok, fine, it's accurate insofar as it does state some facts - one does take stimulating hormones for 2 or 3 weeks for example. But seriously?? One does a shite load more than that, I can blardy well assure you.
It's an article which does nothing to inform or educate, to address prejudice, and it most certainly does not show respect for the topic it approaches. It's ... ack. It's filler. I spit on you Steve Connor for spitting on me. IVF and variations of IVF are not a subject for filling.
The article tells me nothing other than IVM is being explored.
I mean, how exactly, or if that's too hard, don't even be that exact about it, does the process of IVM work in the context of the body's natural function? As in, how do they get around the natural ovulation process bearing in mind that before one is "given hormones for about 2 or 3 weeks" (Steve Connor is an arse) to stimulate the ovaries, one takes drugs to effectively shut one's natural function down for any number of weeks depending on how cocked up one is (we were for example 4 weeks worth of cocked up) and then continues to keep one's natural function shut down with drugs while artificially stimulating it with more drugs to make sure that nature did not interfere with science.
Quoting Sven Lindenberg as the final paragraph that it is "best suited to women who have regular periods" is not enough, for me or the next person. Why? Why is it best suited for women who have regular periods you fool? I know, but do you? And, if you know, the word 'because' is an excellent way to lead into explaining it to the lay person who has just read the article and learned nothing. And, again, it's over-simplified. My guess is that IVM is best suited to women who have regular ovulatory periods. Big ass difference, and the problem with quoting out of context.
Don't even get me started on the rest of its basic flaws. Why may younger women stand a better chance of getting pregnant with IVM? Why is the under 35/over 35 marker significant in the context of IVM? Is the significance any different than with conventional IVF? At what point are the immature eggs harvested? How much shorter is the process? Is paragraph 6 just smoke and mirrors? It looks to me, and I read it about 10 times, that paragraph 7 has the actual initial clinical pregnancy statistics (and incidentally, how many cycles were involved on average?) Then again, we've well established in the last few weeks (Hrrp hmmm ... months ...years) that my brain don't go so good, so maybe I'm just being vile. I get the impression (and that impression comes from my own knowledge, so it possibly wouldn't even occur to the lay person) that the selection criteria for IVM is significantly refined from the selection criteria for conventional IVF - how is it refined?
No wonder people don't get the whole IVF process. No wonder people don't understand the hell and the significance and the sacrifice and the ... ug! when what they are fed through mainstream sources is lacking in what I believe to be basic information. If you're going to dare write on a topic like IVF, educate yourself or stay the hell away.
I'd be staggered if the man had any background at all in this field. And yes, I know there is only so much you can say, and perhaps he had a word limit and included what he thought were the important bits, but this new IVF thing he writes about is huge and the article completely fails to project the significance of it.
If nothing else, imagine the accessibility aspect which is absolutely huge. The price tag for a straight forward ICSI cycle is in the vicinity of $12,000.00. In the course of the cycle you take follicle stimulating hormones for 14 days. The cost of each dose of that hormone is $500.00. Obviously there would be a set off between egg maturation and presumably increased monitoring (due to natural cycle variations) costs, against the eliminated drug costs, but you with me? $7,000.00 of that $12,000.00 is one drug.
Anywho. I go on. Just a little. The stupid article annoyed me a tad.
It's the most crappily handled article since, well, the one about the Huge Decline in Kiwi Sperm Count, which I meant to shred at the time, but forgot. Again, it lacks educative content. It doesn't provide the full picture.
Heh. Pregnancy hormones. 69 days till due date (AAARRGGHHHH!!!).
Imagine what I'll be like in a few more weeks ... not even pictures of John Key holding cute fluffy ginger kittens will be safe.
How the mind of a genius works
My first thought was "woops!", followed in quick succession by "uh oh", then "I wonder why the video clip just stopped?" and finally "oooooohhhh ...".
I really hope Cuinn has his father's brains.
I really hope Cuinn has his father's brains.
Things that make you go hmmmm
We had to draw the pregnant female anatomy last night at antenatal classes. We were separated into boys and girls, and both groups had to draw a picture.
I don't think we, the girls, were supposed to find it so funny that we had no idea where anything was, and I really don't know how we expected the baby to come out successfully when we placed our bladder between our uterus and our cervix, but there you go.
The boys even drew a proper baby. We drew a breech stick figure.
Heh. We didn't even do it on purpose.
I don't think we, the girls, were supposed to find it so funny that we had no idea where anything was, and I really don't know how we expected the baby to come out successfully when we placed our bladder between our uterus and our cervix, but there you go.
The boys even drew a proper baby. We drew a breech stick figure.
Heh. We didn't even do it on purpose.
Monday 10 November 2008
I have been a very bad blogger (a disorganised little update)
A very, very bad blogger indeed, but I'm more tired than a tired thing and I feel like I'm going to fall over backwards any moment and sleep for the next ten weeks. Actually, that sounds kind of wonderful. Maybe I should do that...
Anyway, that's about as clever as I can get in the excuse department.
We have been doing stuff - we started antenatal classes last week (although the sitting and concentrating (ish) for 2 hours is a bit rough. I couldn't sit for 2 hours before I was pregnant, let alone now, and hello? concentrate? Yeah. Right. Nevermind that they finish at the unholy hour of 9pm, waaay past bed time AND I miss out on my evening hot chocolate. Still, I suppose I can chalk it up to sacrifices for kiddly and just make sure I remember to remind him about it for forever), we've been making a vege garden (or rather Al has, and by 'making a vege garden' I mean that there's dirt and compost and a frame and the weeds have been sprayed, and there will be seeds shoved in there soon - there are also photos which I'll post eventually) and I've single-handedly saved Nature Baby from feeling the effects of the economic crisis (well, maybe not because it turns out that budgety seriousness has kicked in already, but I can't be having you all thinking I've changed toooo much, and I do adore their kiddly things) so kiddly is all set to arrive whenever he feels so inclined, so long as it's not for another ... say 8 weeks.
Ooooooohhh and there has been nesting. That instinct is a powerful wee beastie, isn't it? For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I turfed the entire contents of our linen closet into the hallway about a week ago, much to the delight of the cat, and reorganised it making sure everything was folded and easily found, and the crap was allocated to become someone elses problem. The wardrobe in the spare room will suffer similar abuse this weekend probably. Maybe. At least I have boxes ready and waiting. I was part way through the linen closet organising when I stopped to wonder if the instinct to nest and organise comes from the number of women who used to die in childbirth ... thereby ensuring that her household could be run by either a husband or whoever. Very morbid, but kind of interesting. I mean, instincts come from somewhere/something surely?
I bought a swiss ball too which came out for the first time last night (I wish my blimmin danger instinct had stopped me from that one). I'm sure to those of you who know me, the idea is a bit amusing, and believe me, in practice, it's equally if not more so. I didn't do too badly though - just one little woopsie where I rolled on jack's tail, he took exception, I over-corrected and then face-planted off the front landing ever so delicately I'm sure with my butt in the air, much to the husband's amusement. He did ask if I was alright though. Or, at least, he sort of choked it out. Cuinn thought it was a marvellous joke and continued with what he interpreted as bouncing for about 10 minutes - either that, or he landed on his head too and was trying to get back up the other way.
The swiss ball came about (in case you're wondering) because we learned at antenatal classes that it can be helpful for a) pelvic something or other and b) getting baby facing the right way because of the way you have to sit on it. What got my attention was the 'if baby is facing the wrong way 11.5cm of pressure will bear down on your 10cm dilated cervix' and 'if baby is facing the right way, 9.5cm of pressure will bear down on your 10cm dilated cervix', and shite at maths though I may be even I can manage those wee calculations and I owned a swiss ball within the day. There was also a visual demonstration with a squeezy pelvis model thing showing what crossing your legs does to decrease the amount of room in your pelvis severely, and then after reducing the amount of space on the model by about half the childbirth educator tried to jam a doll-baby's head through. That maths wasn't lost on me either. Obviously, I uncrossed my legs that instant and haven't done it again since.
Tonight we're watching a birthing video so I have ear plugs and a blind fold at the ready, and we're having dinner nice and early so that it's all well and truly digested beforehand.
TTFN xo
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ....
Anyway, that's about as clever as I can get in the excuse department.
We have been doing stuff - we started antenatal classes last week (although the sitting and concentrating (ish) for 2 hours is a bit rough. I couldn't sit for 2 hours before I was pregnant, let alone now, and hello? concentrate? Yeah. Right. Nevermind that they finish at the unholy hour of 9pm, waaay past bed time AND I miss out on my evening hot chocolate. Still, I suppose I can chalk it up to sacrifices for kiddly and just make sure I remember to remind him about it for forever), we've been making a vege garden (or rather Al has, and by 'making a vege garden' I mean that there's dirt and compost and a frame and the weeds have been sprayed, and there will be seeds shoved in there soon - there are also photos which I'll post eventually) and I've single-handedly saved Nature Baby from feeling the effects of the economic crisis (well, maybe not because it turns out that budgety seriousness has kicked in already, but I can't be having you all thinking I've changed toooo much, and I do adore their kiddly things) so kiddly is all set to arrive whenever he feels so inclined, so long as it's not for another ... say 8 weeks.
Ooooooohhh and there has been nesting. That instinct is a powerful wee beastie, isn't it? For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I turfed the entire contents of our linen closet into the hallway about a week ago, much to the delight of the cat, and reorganised it making sure everything was folded and easily found, and the crap was allocated to become someone elses problem. The wardrobe in the spare room will suffer similar abuse this weekend probably. Maybe. At least I have boxes ready and waiting. I was part way through the linen closet organising when I stopped to wonder if the instinct to nest and organise comes from the number of women who used to die in childbirth ... thereby ensuring that her household could be run by either a husband or whoever. Very morbid, but kind of interesting. I mean, instincts come from somewhere/something surely?
I bought a swiss ball too which came out for the first time last night (I wish my blimmin danger instinct had stopped me from that one). I'm sure to those of you who know me, the idea is a bit amusing, and believe me, in practice, it's equally if not more so. I didn't do too badly though - just one little woopsie where I rolled on jack's tail, he took exception, I over-corrected and then face-planted off the front landing ever so delicately I'm sure with my butt in the air, much to the husband's amusement. He did ask if I was alright though. Or, at least, he sort of choked it out. Cuinn thought it was a marvellous joke and continued with what he interpreted as bouncing for about 10 minutes - either that, or he landed on his head too and was trying to get back up the other way.
The swiss ball came about (in case you're wondering) because we learned at antenatal classes that it can be helpful for a) pelvic something or other and b) getting baby facing the right way because of the way you have to sit on it. What got my attention was the 'if baby is facing the wrong way 11.5cm of pressure will bear down on your 10cm dilated cervix' and 'if baby is facing the right way, 9.5cm of pressure will bear down on your 10cm dilated cervix', and shite at maths though I may be even I can manage those wee calculations and I owned a swiss ball within the day. There was also a visual demonstration with a squeezy pelvis model thing showing what crossing your legs does to decrease the amount of room in your pelvis severely, and then after reducing the amount of space on the model by about half the childbirth educator tried to jam a doll-baby's head through. That maths wasn't lost on me either. Obviously, I uncrossed my legs that instant and haven't done it again since.
Tonight we're watching a birthing video so I have ear plugs and a blind fold at the ready, and we're having dinner nice and early so that it's all well and truly digested beforehand.
TTFN xo
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ....
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