Thursday 26 November 2009
Wednesday 18 November 2009
bridesmaids
I have asked two of my adorable friends to be bridesmaids, but probably not properly. I do hope they do want to do it. I will do the decent thing and ask them nicely....not angry....
I thought I had better provide some light relief in the form of loveliness after a veritable avalanche of calls from friends and family wanting to check my blood pressure....
oh, baby
I am bringing a new angle to the blog today, so apologies if I am lowering the tone somewhat but I have something I wish to say. I am currently 40 weeks and 6 days pregnant and am anxiously awaiting the arrival of my first little baby. I'm excited and dreamy. I can't wait meet this little fairy and kiss her all over. I want this time in mine and my lovely fiance's lives to be sweet and happy. But instead I really feel frustrated and let down by the level of antenatal midwifery care provided by the NHS, so much so that at times I have seriously considered paying for private care. Don't get me wrong, I know the NHS is an essential service. Thank goodness that we all have access to healthcare without the worry of massive bills and insurance premiums. The trouble is that, along with other pregnant women and new Mums I know, I feel that I have been massively let down by the NHS in terms of the care provided in the build-up to having my baby, and I dread to think what lies in store for me when I actually go into labour.
When I first discovered I was expecting a baby I coudn't even get to see a midwife at all for several weeks. An experience I have since discovered is pretty much universal amongst pregnant women in Greenwich Borough. Finally, at 16 weeks gestation, I was allocated a midwifery 'team' who I have had 10 appointments with throughout my pregnancy to date (ie. one appointment every two and a half weeks), never seeing the same midwife twice and thus rendering the idea of continuity of care a non-entity. At my first appointment I was asked if I would mind having a student midwife 'caseload' my pregnancy, attend my appointments and, supervised by a qualified midwife, deliver my baby. Thank God for Amy, my saving grace, I am so pleased that I agreed to this as it has been the only way I feel I have been able to have access to decent advice and support. Without Amy I wouldn't have even been able to phone a midwife. Instead, you have to leave a voicemail message on the team answer machine and wait for someone to respond, usually with 72 hours, although often not at all.
Last week, at what was in theory to be my last ante-natal appointment before the birth, we discussed how events would progress should the baby not arrive on her due date. I was advised to do everything possible to bring on labour: curry, pineapple, raspberry leaf tea, and lots and lots of lovin'. No problem. I would be given a cervical sweep at 41 weeks gestation, then if nothing came of it, I would be given a second sweep the following day, as research shows this increases the chances of labour starting naturally, therefore giving me more chance of having my planned water birth at home. A chemical induction at 42 weeks will be performed in hospital and means a much greater chance of medical interventions such as Pethidine, epidural, forceps, ventouse and caesarian, simply because of the unbearable ferocity with with contractions come on.
I went along yesterday to my antenatal appointment, fully expecting to be offered a cervical sweep there and then to try and get things progressing, as I had been advised last week. I was perfectly happy for this to be the case. I'm pretty keen to meet this baby afterall. I was shocked when the midwife, another midwife who I had never met before, booked me straight in for a chemical induction for next Wednesday (41 week and 6 days). So I asked when I would be given the first sweep. That afternoon? No, came the reply, they might offer me one the day of the induction. I questioned this as it contradicted what I had previously been told, and the midwide responded that someone else might be happy to offer me a sweep, but that she was personally not comfortable to perform it, as last time she had done a sweep the woman's waters had broken and she didn't really like it! I have to say that I was pretty shocked to get this kind of offhand and unprofessional treatment from a fully qualified midwife with two children of her own. I mean, what exactly is being a midwife meant to entail? Yes love, bodily fluids are part of your job. Get used to it! Other concerns I expressed to this woman were brushed aside. I was told that I didn't really know what I was talking about so I shouldn't think about it.
My grumbles are perhaps twofold: firstly, I am outraged that antenatal care is so dreadfully underfunded (I have had other issues with the care provided during my pregnancy to do with underfunding)that women are unable to see a midwife more than 10 times out of 42 weeks, and even then it is never with the same midwife, thus offering zero continuity of care, and no relationship between the pregnant woman and her midwife. However, for the mostpart, the actual midwives have been outstanding and supportive whevever they have been able, despite the obstacles. But secondly, the issues I encountered yesterday with one particular midwife left me wondering whether her appalling and uncaring attitude would be allowed to prevail if better guidelines and set procedures for the care of pregnant women were in place? Why can't every expectant mother have a midwife allocated to her who she can see every week throughout her pregnancy? How can this be too much to ask?
Luckily, immediately after my appointment yesterday, Amy was able to book me in for a sweep tomorrow at the fetal assesment unit. If Amy had not been there to support me I would either have had to accept the inevitable chemical induction next Wednesday (assuming the little blossom doesn't arrive of her own accord), or attempt to contact the midwife team via their voicemail in order to ask for a second opinion, not knowing whether I would ever hear back. Most women don't get an Amy though, and it simply isn't good enough that I should have to rely on an unpaid (make that fee-paying) student, however capable she may be, in order to provide sufficient care for my unborn child. I may require a chemical induction afterall, but I would like the opportunity to explore every avenue before that becomes an inevitability and am outraged that I should have to battle for the privilege to do so.
When I first discovered I was expecting a baby I coudn't even get to see a midwife at all for several weeks. An experience I have since discovered is pretty much universal amongst pregnant women in Greenwich Borough. Finally, at 16 weeks gestation, I was allocated a midwifery 'team' who I have had 10 appointments with throughout my pregnancy to date (ie. one appointment every two and a half weeks), never seeing the same midwife twice and thus rendering the idea of continuity of care a non-entity. At my first appointment I was asked if I would mind having a student midwife 'caseload' my pregnancy, attend my appointments and, supervised by a qualified midwife, deliver my baby. Thank God for Amy, my saving grace, I am so pleased that I agreed to this as it has been the only way I feel I have been able to have access to decent advice and support. Without Amy I wouldn't have even been able to phone a midwife. Instead, you have to leave a voicemail message on the team answer machine and wait for someone to respond, usually with 72 hours, although often not at all.
Last week, at what was in theory to be my last ante-natal appointment before the birth, we discussed how events would progress should the baby not arrive on her due date. I was advised to do everything possible to bring on labour: curry, pineapple, raspberry leaf tea, and lots and lots of lovin'. No problem. I would be given a cervical sweep at 41 weeks gestation, then if nothing came of it, I would be given a second sweep the following day, as research shows this increases the chances of labour starting naturally, therefore giving me more chance of having my planned water birth at home. A chemical induction at 42 weeks will be performed in hospital and means a much greater chance of medical interventions such as Pethidine, epidural, forceps, ventouse and caesarian, simply because of the unbearable ferocity with with contractions come on.
I went along yesterday to my antenatal appointment, fully expecting to be offered a cervical sweep there and then to try and get things progressing, as I had been advised last week. I was perfectly happy for this to be the case. I'm pretty keen to meet this baby afterall. I was shocked when the midwife, another midwife who I had never met before, booked me straight in for a chemical induction for next Wednesday (41 week and 6 days). So I asked when I would be given the first sweep. That afternoon? No, came the reply, they might offer me one the day of the induction. I questioned this as it contradicted what I had previously been told, and the midwide responded that someone else might be happy to offer me a sweep, but that she was personally not comfortable to perform it, as last time she had done a sweep the woman's waters had broken and she didn't really like it! I have to say that I was pretty shocked to get this kind of offhand and unprofessional treatment from a fully qualified midwife with two children of her own. I mean, what exactly is being a midwife meant to entail? Yes love, bodily fluids are part of your job. Get used to it! Other concerns I expressed to this woman were brushed aside. I was told that I didn't really know what I was talking about so I shouldn't think about it.
My grumbles are perhaps twofold: firstly, I am outraged that antenatal care is so dreadfully underfunded (I have had other issues with the care provided during my pregnancy to do with underfunding)that women are unable to see a midwife more than 10 times out of 42 weeks, and even then it is never with the same midwife, thus offering zero continuity of care, and no relationship between the pregnant woman and her midwife. However, for the mostpart, the actual midwives have been outstanding and supportive whevever they have been able, despite the obstacles. But secondly, the issues I encountered yesterday with one particular midwife left me wondering whether her appalling and uncaring attitude would be allowed to prevail if better guidelines and set procedures for the care of pregnant women were in place? Why can't every expectant mother have a midwife allocated to her who she can see every week throughout her pregnancy? How can this be too much to ask?
Luckily, immediately after my appointment yesterday, Amy was able to book me in for a sweep tomorrow at the fetal assesment unit. If Amy had not been there to support me I would either have had to accept the inevitable chemical induction next Wednesday (assuming the little blossom doesn't arrive of her own accord), or attempt to contact the midwife team via their voicemail in order to ask for a second opinion, not knowing whether I would ever hear back. Most women don't get an Amy though, and it simply isn't good enough that I should have to rely on an unpaid (make that fee-paying) student, however capable she may be, in order to provide sufficient care for my unborn child. I may require a chemical induction afterall, but I would like the opportunity to explore every avenue before that becomes an inevitability and am outraged that I should have to battle for the privilege to do so.
Tuesday 17 November 2009
the simple things
Inspired by my friend Anders yesterday on Facebook, and Christina at Soul Aperture, the simple things in life that warm my cockles:
waking under canvas
*
the smell of cheap shower gel
*
sashimi
*
bath time
*
floating on a calm ocean
*
*
*
my clever little nephew
*
letters from my Mum
*
Dad arriving with flowers
*
the full moon
*
driftwood
*
playing in the snow
*
a nice glass of red wine (or two)
*
sun-tanned skin (mine)
*
gingerbread
*
Anthony's lashes
*
thinking the baby is coming...any time now please
*
green grass after a storm
*
*
*
road trips
*
*
*
gin and tonic
*
the outback
*
*
*
the top of the mountain
*
fancy dress
*
*
*
*
the smell of cheap shower gel
*
sashimi
*
bath time
*
floating on a calm ocean
**
*
my clever little nephew
*
letters from my Mum
*
Dad arriving with flowers
*
the full moon
*
driftwood
*
playing in the snow
*
a nice glass of red wine (or two)
*
sun-tanned skin (mine)
*
gingerbread
*
Anthony's lashes
*
thinking the baby is coming...any time now please
*
green grass after a storm
**
*
road trips
**
*
gin and tonic
*
the outback
**
*
the top of the mountain
*
fancy dress
**
*
photos: The Pass, Byron Bay, NSW; view towards Mount Cook, New Zealand (as ever concealed by cloud); the last in the Combi Convoy, Main Beach, Byron Bay; billabong, somewhere in the Australian outback; Solid Gold, the Great Northern Hotel, Byron Bay.
Monday 16 November 2009
flower power
After the initial thrill of our engagement, the magazine bulk-buying and the daydreaming about lacy dresses, my focus shifted from all things wedding to more pressing issues, namely the (as yet still to come) arrival of our little baby. But now that the pixie is 4 days overdue and I can barely manage to waddle outside the front door I am trying to come up with new ways to distract myself from the constant wonderings about when? When? When? I've made cakes. I've knitted. I've cleaned everything in the flat several times over. I've bounced around for hours on my Swiss ball.... so now I'm going to do what I said I wouldn't do until well into 2010: wedding planning. My beautiful future sister-in-law also got engaged last weekend so everybody seems to be wedding crazy at the moment. I'm wishing for a summer wedding in the countryside, a lovely sunny contrast to these grey autumn days, and I want our day to be filled with bright sunny colour and big wide smiles.
Tuesday 10 November 2009
Friday 6 November 2009
the final fling
Two days to go, or thereabouts, I'm told it's not an exact science, and what a thrilling and unexpected place to be. As well as the requisite nesting and napping and focusing on the excitement just over the horizon, I have also been thinking loads about the journey we've been on to get here and it has probably been anything other than conventional. Life has changed somewhat for us since we found out we were going to be parents. These images were all taken last June during my time in Cambodia, a time of learning and awakenings.
Thursday 5 November 2009
whenever you look up, there I shall be.....
I recently came across this gorgeous post on the beautiful Lobster and Swan, which reminded me of the happiest weekend I ever had (coincidentally also booked through Under the Thatch), the one where my boy asked me to marry him (and I said yes), where we played Far from the Madding Crowd inside our cosy Shepherd's Hut in the Brecon Beacons, adopted a flock of ducks, roasted potatoes on the stove, waddled around the Usk Reservoir (I was 7 months pregnant at the time so didn't make it up Pen y Fan), and sat on the steps watching buzzards and red kites circle in the sky at dusk. He surprised me with a beautiful ring from my favourite jewellery designer, Alex Monroe. I was totally swept away by the romance of it all. Wales in September... you might imagine a drop or two of rain would dampen the occasion, but not a bit thankfully, as we had to trek a hundred yards or so to the outside composting toilet and wood-heated (deliciously steamy) shower, both in separate little huts. We were utterly secluded for the the entire weekend, except for one or two visits from Marcus, the farmer, on his quad to check that the wood-burner for the water was in, and we were ok. We thought that next year, when the tiddler is here, we might go back to stay in the B&B at Mandinam farmhouse.
Photos from the lovely: galvogalvo
Wednesday 4 November 2009
I have a dirty secret, well...several in fact, and I'd like to use this forum to confess my sins: one is that I love tie-dye (of which more later), the second is that I am fascinated by dreamcatchers. Cheap and nasty though they may be I love them, my poor boy has to put up with mine gracing our bedroom window along with our Tibetan prayer flags, thus destroying all his hopes for a Modernist interior. I acquired mine at the Crystal Castle in the hinterland near Mullumbimby in NSW. It's the loveliest hippy hang-out, cafe, garden and purveyor of all things off-beat. When I lived nearby I would often spend several hours meandering through the maze and drinking in the calming views across the hills, or scoffing the home-made muffins and soy chai lattes and it was on one of these visits that I found my dream-catcher and took it back to my little caravan in Ocean Shores, where I was living at the time, to put in the window. Native American mythology has it that the dream-catcher filters out the bad dreams, so that only the good ones get through. Seems to be working so far....
Tuesday 3 November 2009
the lovely joanna...
...who reminds me of yet another childhood fantasy to play the harp, and another favourite name: Harper
no signposts in the sea
We've been spending lots of time thinking about names lately, and Vita seems to be a hot favourite. I suppose meaning life, vitality, it makes me think of celebration and joy. Of course, it also brings to mind the writer Vita Sackville-West, with whom I have long been fascinated. Her transcendence of the boundaries of gender (admittedly only made possible through her status and wealth) has been celebrated by some-time lover Virginia Woolf in the novel Orlando, in which the central figure lives for hundreds of years and flicks between genders. Culturally constructed limitations present no boundaries in Orlando's quest for life. Our baby would have a lot to live up to, I suppose, with a name like Vita.
Thank goodness for the cape I bought last winter, before I even got pregnant. Admittedly not the most practical garment if you need to carry a bag over your shoulder, it's pretty much a crook-of-the-arm bag affair. Think Betty Draper meets Red Riding Hood, the cape is something of a fantasy fashion item. It's been keeping the bump lovely and snug though
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