Merry Christmas, Interwebs!

I just wanted to quickly post to wish you all a merry christmas 2009, may it be full of fun, frivolity and fat stuffed turkey. Unless you’re a vegetarian of course. I hope Santa brings you all what you asked for. On that note, I’ll end with…

Twas the blog post before christmas,
And throughout the blogosphere.
Traffic was down on websites,
As Christmas time was near.

Read the full christmas poem, by Rhys

Recycling Geek T-Shirts

Some of my geek t-shirt collection are in the region of 4 years old now, and as nature (and pregnancy) blessed me with an ever increasing chest size, they’re now fairly tight (bordering on obscene). I’d like to find some way to recycle them so I continue to get use and don’t have to worry about having wasted money (and I don’t mean by making dusters out of them).

Short of cutting off the sleeves and making a patchwork blanket, I’m at a loss as to what I could do with them. And, if I did decide to make a blanket, what’s the best way to do it? Any blanket crafters out there got suggestions?

Suggestions for tutorialtastic

Assuming Isabel continues to take several long — albeit fart-filled — naps during the day, I want to try and get the next incarnation of tutorialtastic ready to go for some time early new year. With that in mind, please please please leave me a comment with feedback on what you’d like to see… either generic suggestions or specific tutorial ideas. I’ve lost my original list so need ideas from those who use the site the most.

(If people could pass this message on to others who use the site, via message boards/twitter/whatever, would be eternally grateful :))

Isabel’s Birth Story, Part Two

In my new room on the MLU (see part one) I was hooked up to a cylinder of gas and air (and, incidentally, went through 3 of these before I was finished) because they had no wall supply and ditched the TENS… the batteries had died anyway. I was given another internal — 7cm dilated, dilating at 1cm an hour give or take — and offered more pain relief.

I was hoping to finish the labour on the gas and air alone, because up until everything had actually started I’d had visions of having a laid back labour with as much walking and squatting as possible to promote a faster and easier birth. Unfortunately, this was a tad naive and greatly underestimated the pain I’d be in. On reflection I am glad I felt so confident (for lack of a better word) because I think it helped relax me, and ultimately got me to 7cm dilated on just the gas and air. That said, I was under no illusions of being some kind of hippy Earth mother and gladly accepted a shot of pethidine at this point.

I’m not sure if it was the pethidine or having spent about 4 hours inhaling nitrous oxide, but I remember shortly after the shot I was kneeling on the bed with the head raised for me to lean on, and with each contraction I was having what can only be described as a “detached” experience… I was being talked through my breathing by the midwife who had a very odd accent, and I felt like I was no longer in my own head. Not an out of body experience because physically I felt “there”, it was just the weirdest mental trip ever.

I don’t recall much between that point, and a few hours later when the midwife finished her shift and a new midwife started, must have been approx. 6am by then and I’d been up since just after 7am the day before. I didn’t feel overly tired at the time, and 9(?) hours of labour had gone by in what felt more like 3-4 hours. Karl probably disagrees as I’d had him standing up giving me back rubs, as well as holding my hand, poor bugger.

It was another couple of hours before the midwife asked me if I’d had any urges to push (er, no). I had to change positions on the bed so that she could break my waters (didn’t hurt, didn’t feel anything, I was just suddenly lying in a big wet patch), and I had another shot of pethidine because the other had worn off. Breaking my waters did the trick because shortly afterwards I knew I needed to push.

It took half an hour of pushing to deliver Isabel, although the majority of that didn’t seem to be achieving anything. At one stage the midwife made me put down the gas and air because she thought I was concentrating more on that than pushing. I was actually just suffering from excruciating back pain — because I was lying down.. worst decision ever — made worse each time I tried to push. It felt like my spine was being torn out, and I screamed more swear words than I realised I knew. It got to the point where I was in so much agony I just lay there crying at the midwife that I couldn’t do it (not really sure what I expected her to do, it’s not like I could change my mind at that point!)

I made my biggest “mistake” right at the end, as Isabel was born. Because I was tired, and in pain, I gave one last huge push to finish off, which didn’t give the midwife time to “help” her out… Isabel turned too quickly and I ended up tearing. I had at least 6 labial stitches (TMI, yay) — I’d not even realised prior that you can tear that way — and lost 400ml of blood. I remember seeing some on the wall at the end of the bed! It sounds scarier than it was, though; and well worth it for such a lovely ‘prize’.

Isabel’s Birth Story, Part One

If someone had said to me on Friday 13th November that I’d be going in to labour that evening, I would’ve probably scoffed at them. I’d crossed fingers for a Friday 13th birth because it’s a cool date, but with not even so much as a twinge by tea time I thought it unlikely, and went about ‘business as usual’.

Around 8pm my lower back felt a little uncomfortable, which I put down to sitting on my lazy arse too long. I ate, and popped on to the computer to chat with my bees. By 10pm the backache hadn’t subsided, so I decided to go to bed to get some rest. I was tempted to ‘tweet’ about it, but after having seen the reaction to my twinges on the 12th — which resulted in me feeling like I’d let the world down — I thought better of it. However, within seconds of lying down, I was getting waves of period-like pain and decided pacing the front room was a more pleasant option.

Out of curiosity I timed a few of the contractions using the stopwatch on my phone. I didn’t expect to get much out of it… I mean, you read stories about women who start off labour days before they actually give birth, and have wildly far apart contractions followed by blocks of no pain. Seemed a bit odd then that mine felt quite close together, and no wonder: they were 4.5 mins apart almost to the second.

I rang the hospital to ask for advice on when would be a good time to come in (given that it was a 40 minute trip) and she advised I head straight over. Cue a mad dash to get the bags and a few remaining bits and pieces together, and then we started off on the journey. Not 5 minutes down the road I realised I’d left my maternity notes at home, so I had to get Karl to turn around and go back — contractions and speed bumps, fun fun! — so that I could pick the bloody things up.

Anyway… shortly after arriving at the hospital, I did a pee sample, I was hooked up to a monitor for half an hour, and given an internal only to be told I was 3cm dilated. Because my birth was still relatively low risk (despite the low iron) I was assigned a midwife and we went into a labour room to continue with a “normal” labour. I was hooked up to a TENS machine for pain relief, although I don’t really think it did a fat lot, and was given gas and air (Entonox) which started Karl off making Darth Vadar jokes. I had blood drawn, and was hooked up to a drip because they detected ketones in my urine (although this didn’t surprise me, I knew I was at least slightly dehydrated and had been for weeks because my pee was far too dark.)

I had every intention of doing hourly updates via text message to twitter at this point, but the contractions were just under 4 minutes apart and were getting more uncomfortable with each one. I was squeezing Karl’s hand and had already dictated one message to him so that I could concentrate on breathing.

A couple of hours in I was told that the results of the blood test were back and that my iron was absolutely fine. Talk about annoying. I stand by my original theory that someone had mixed up my blood test with that of the other woman who was pregnant at the same time as me and with the exact same name (I don’t see any other reason why my iron level would drop so suddenly and then go back up in a week, despite having stopped taking the Spatone!) My labour was downgraded to lowest risk, and I was moved from the room I was in — with Entonox through a valve in the wall — to a smaller but more “cosy” room in their midwife-led unit with a new midwife. Not quite the MLU I wanted to birth in but a better option than being stared at by consultants for no real reason.

(To be continued…)