Tuesday, 25 February 2014

Neglect

I've been neglecting the blog. Much like I've been neglecting the housework and neglecting to put vegetables into my body. What a failure.

On the upside, I've passed the 10 week mark and from now on (according to my most loved source, Dr. Google) the nausea should decrease and the ability to eat more than Marmite and cheese on toast should increase. Also according to the real life doctor who I saw yesterday. Today I'm going for the blood test part of the first trimester screen to see whether the risk of Down Syndrome or other trisomies is going to go up or down. The second part of the test is another ultrasound at 12 weeks to measure the fluid at the back of the Passenger's neck. The two results will be combined and out will pop a risk factor- ta da! At the moment based on age alone it's about 1:1000, and this will increase or decrease in the next two weeks. If the risk increases to more than 1:300 then I'll have further tests (well, I wouldn't be forced to but they would be offered). I'm not really worried about these tests - is that naive? Perhaps I will be that 1 in that 1000, but I doubt it.

I've been feeling seriously down. I wish I could write that in downhill script, which is how it feels. Like I'm sloping off to the right, not able to keep to a straight line. I spent the other night in bed crying (which I haven't done for a while) and trying to explain to husband number 1 and only what was wrong. Well, nothing was right so that could have been a loooooooooong conversation, but it wasn't. Mainly because I find it hard to explain myself when I feel dark, but at the same time I feel like I should be able to articulate something - anything in fact - and then I feel worse when I can't. I managed to tell him I needed some support (go me) and he asked HOW he was supposed to support me. I told HN1 (new shorthand for husband number 1?) that he needs to do some research about depression and anxiety and that it's frankly ridiculous that he hasn't read a single thing or looked anything up even though he's been living with me for almost 6 years and at times I've been fairy heavily medicated. If I had heart disease you can bet he would know everything there is to know about it, so why know precisely nothing about depression and anxiety? Something I live with and at times really struggle with.

I wrote to him, it's easier for me to write than talk, and sent him some reading material. No idea if he's read any of it, or if he's taken in what I wrote. It's easier to write that you feel stupid and worthless and ugly than it is to say it out loud. Saying it out loud even makes it sound stupid. If it feels stupid and sounds stupid... It must be.... Yep! Stupid. Ditto with worthless and ugly and a whole heap more. And maybe a lot of the time he doesn't notice when I'm sloping off to the right, and I understand that. I think I can be quite the master of deception (mwahaha), but I'd like my husband to know me deeper. There are little-ish signs (me saying in passing "what if I'm a terrible mother", and big signs (me crying for hours on end and sleeping for days and not doing anything), and signs I don't know about (grinding my teeth all night) and signs that follow on from this (dislocating my jaw on a sandwich). Maybe he'll pick up on these signs and ask me if I'm OK, or reassure me that I won't be a terrible mother rather than responding "I'll take the child and run". Sometimes it's fine to make light of things, sometimes you need to recognise a source of anxiety and address it.

I'm sure he'll try. We both will.

Anyway, back to The Passenger who I'm sure is at least in part responsible for my swinging emotions. It's going to be such a cool kid. Hopefully it will also be a kid born at home - I think HN1 is coming round to the idea, particularly after I discussed it with the human doctor yesterday. He said that of all his pregnant patients I was absolutely the best case for a homebirth - fit, healthy, athletic (his word, not mine), no major illnesses... Plus I want to do it at home. He said that the midwives would have the same monitoring equipment available in a hospital, and at the first sign of trouble they would call an ambulance. This is what I've said all along, but apparently my lack of medical degree and the fact that I have no experience makes me less credible. Pfft. 

So the application  for the Community Midwifery Program is next on the to-do-list! Just as soon as I've made sure HN1 is 100% on board and comfortable with the decision. If all else fails we'll go to the public midwife run maternity hospital (sadly my ludicrously expensive health insurance will only cover me under the care of an obstetrician and there is no way one of those is getting their scalpel wielding mitts on me), where I'll be forced to be in a room with a hospital bed and lino floors and hospital machines. This thought made me cry the other day, so I'm fairly sure it's something I don't want.

Ah, decisions and blood tests and scans and things.


PS that BLOODY bird is still screeching from 4am. I think this isn't helping.

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