Meije

Meije was born on March 24, just over two weeks early. We're back home since yesterday, and it is just magic to be this new family of four!

More when I have regained some kind of control over my life (so probably in about 20 years), but to keep you waiting til then, some first photos...

Is That It (hopefully not)?

Unlike the previous post, I am now talking about delivering.

And unlike the previous post (and how I would have felt last time round at the same stage of pregnancy, or even 3 days ago, or probably two days from now), I am in no rush of getting this baby out.

I have been "single" since Friday night. March has always meant, since Martin and I met, a week of skiing at my parents' in the French Southern Alps. This year, with only a couple of weeks before my due date, call me chicken, but I did not feel like potentially finding myself giving birth on the roadside driving up The Lautaret Pass, no matter how stunning the view. Yes, I know, you expected better from a mountain lover and Tour de France fan, but here you go. On the other hand, I did not feel either like depriving Martin and Malo from some spring skiing and time with the family, so it was decided some time ago they would go there for three days while I would stay home.

Pregnant with Malo, when absolutely no signs were given until the day my water broke that I was close to D Day (OK, the size of my belly might have given a clue), I would not have thought twice about Martin going away and my carrying on with my life, ie walking, hiking, running and swimming everyday.

This time round though, things are a bit different. I have plenty of signs - which I won't list since this could become a bit too graphic and personal for my taste - that this baby could now come anytime... as was confirmed by an unexpected visit to the midwife last Friday! With Martin there, that would be very good news indeed, but with him away, I'd rather the baby does not show up too early!

We discussed whether we should cancel the trip, but in the end decided not to, since he would be "only" three hours away. The midwife advised me against doing too much if I wanted to limit the risk of getting into labour earlier (although to be fair she also said that resting and relaxing could help start labour , too!) and for the first time since pregnant, I felt I may listen and do just what I was told. So, instead of using my "single" status to do fill those three days with walks, swims, maybe even an attempt at running again, I have been doing pretty much nothing counting as physical activity, bar a short swim yesterday (on second attempt... just walked back home at the first one, having been on my way for minutes only, as I suddenly freaked out my water was about to break). I am definitely catching up on my reading and sleeping, though!

It is funny that, whereas I have always been confident I knew what amount of exercise was OK for me and it always seemed obvious I just knew what my pregnant body could do, this time, I just feel like I don't know what can happen. But then again, it is not about doing something hurtful for the baby, it is about not being too keen on potentially having to wake up our neighbour in the middle of the night (no matter what she said about being perfectly fine with it), have my water break in her brand new car, and have to worry about Martin not driving back too fast in between suffering hell from the contractions.

I am not sure what's going to happen after Martin is back. Last time round, I would have been pretty happy to list all these signs indicating that, maybe, the baby would turn up a bit earlier than expected. But this time, well, I am not sure. Unlike last time when all I wanted was an all-natural birth, this time I actually feel quite comfortable with the idea of a planned C-section, as it feels I am not in unknown territory and have some kind of control on the situation :  know the doctor - check -, know what to expect post birth - check -, feel that although it is a surgical procedure, and I am definitely less fit and rested than for Malo, I can handle the post-surgery reasonably well... On the other hand, this baby coming early may mean having a go at a VBAC, but may also mean not having the kind of "natural" birth I would chose to call "natural" (I mean, is a peridural and not being able to move during labor that natural and conductive of a successful birth? I am really not sure), and one which may in any case end up with a C-section performed by an ob-gyn I have not chosen. And Big Bear may not have been be the most diplomatic and warmest person on the planet on our first encounter, I came to trust him and I'd rather he delivers my baby rather than an unknown guy, again.

With all this in mind, I am trying to do things which are quite unlike me : 

- try not to stress about this weekend and the baby arriving in a rather untimely manner... not easy when waken up by contractions in the middle of the night, like last night.

- try to convince myself that now is the time to forget about being in control, and that, should the baby arrive earlier than the day planned for the c-section, it was because it was meant to be. 

- try not to stress out about not exercising and the no-doubt huge detrimental effect it will have on my post-partum recovery pace.

Looking on the positive side of life tough, one thing I am definitely not even contemplating this weekend, despite having lots of free time on my hands, is nesting... Looks like this is something which will stay forever foreign to me... pregnancy will have not managed to take control over all my life and self, in the end...  

Is That It?

And no, I am not talking about being about to give birth (or at least, I don't think so at this very minute).

What I am talking about is the question whether my going "running" (I am using the term loosely, "jogging" or "plodding" may be more appropriate) has come to an end for this pregnancy. Running, and, who knows, maybe any kind of sport, bar, maybe, swimming?

For the last 9 days, I have had really sharp pain in the pelvic area whenever I am standing, walking, or lying. And if you read and think "well, that's pretty much always, then", you'll be right. That pain feels like a powerful electrical shock is going through my pelvis, and it last for hours whenever it starts. My "sport" of last weekend consisted of a (fast) out- (and excruciatingly slow) back 1h45 walk towards the lake, most of which spent crying because it was so painful. I knew it was not the kind of pain to nothing to worry about,so I kept on walking until we got back

Malo having a snack by the lake before heading back, his mum looking a bit like she is faking her smile.

To make up for the lack of running and walking, I have been  doing a bit of cross training (at last), limited to swimming, since I don't have a gym membership any longer (I am not yet over the fact that is more expensive to get one here than in London, a super expensive city, of all places) but the limited ridiculous opening times of the pool means I have not been able to get anything done anything since my great Saturday walk. 

A visit to the OB on Monday confirmed what I thought : the baby has come down, and is pressing against probably a nerve, or ligaments, or both (just to make sure it does hurt). This would be good news, except that, as a C-section has also eventually been scheduled on that same appointment, the coming-down and the associated pain seem a bit on the useless side.

When pregnant with Malo, I experienced back pain, but that was it. And this time round, apart from very slight nausea which never came back after a visit to the magician my acupuncture therapist, I had no pain whatsoever, and not even a slight discomfort when running. Now, I can hear those of you who suffered from morning sickness, swollen ankles, back pain, contractions since the 5th month, or worse, threats of premature labor or those condemned to bed rest : what am I complaining about, when everything has been so easy until I am into my 8th month? Yes, I can see you read this and laugh your head off. Or sneer. , Well, you may. It does not entirely take the frustration away though. Call me self-centered too.

No need to say I am starting to feel a bit restless. I try to deal with my impatience by resting ahead of the C-section, and reading. Not 100% sure though that my choice of book, Chrissie Wellington's autobiography, following Angela's review, may not be - oh ever so slightly - in my "condition", on the masochist side.