Saturday 29 June 2013

Nappy Days

One of my first duties as a new father, as I understand it, will not be an altogether pleasant experience.  Of course, I'm not talking about any of those things I can't wait for, like holding and cuddling my daughter for the first time or seeing her in her mother's arms.  No, I'm referring to changing the first dirty nappy.  I'm led to believe that it is a scenario which strips both parties of their dignity.

For those of you who have already experienced these meconium nappies, I take my hat off to you.  (Well I would if I was wearing one.  I'm not.  I don't like them messing up my hair!)  You survived to tell the tale, which gives me inspiration.  I am, however, still fairly worried about what lies ahead.  Everyone I have talked to about these first nappies describes them as disgusting and impossible to clean up.  Now, I would love to believe that my daughter will be like the Queen and not do anything in her nappy other than the occasional wee.  But, the reality is that she will be like all other babies and I will be called upon to do the honours whilst my wife recovers after the birth.

During our final NCT class this week, we were given the opportunity to change a nappy.  We were allowed to select our own 'baby' from a basket full of them.  Don't panic.  They weren't real babies.  They were dolls.  We'll skip over the fact that my wife chose the weirdest looking one in the basket for us and move straight on to the nappy changing.  Assuming that the nappy I was changing was just a clean nappy (because after all, dolls don't poo or wee), I happily started to undress the doll and take off the nappy.  It was at this point that I realised everything was not quite right.  The reaction of those around me tipped me off to the fact that there was something unexpected to be found in our dolls' nappies.

Our NCT course leader hadn't been sourcing actual baby poo to put in these nappies, but she had done the next best thing.  She had used various condiments to simulate baby poo.  My nappy contained a runny yellow substance which turned out to be Dijon mustard.  The couple next to me had one with treacle in it to simulate meconium.  We were given just water and cotton wool to get our dolls clean.  Why no baby wipes?  Good question.  It is frowned upon to use baby wipes on newborns.  So, when we got home, we removed our pack of wipes from our hospital bag as neither of us wants to be tutted at by a disappointed midwife.  Cleaning my doll was easy enough.  Yes, I did get some on my hands.  But, I managed to clean it up and put on a new nappy quite successfully.  Those with treacle in the nappy struggled.  Warm water and cotton wool aren't enough to get treacle, or meconium, off of a baby's bum.  You need a chisel, blow torch and some sand paper.  Although, I think that you might get more than a disapproving look or a less than subtle tut if you unloaded any or all of these from your bag at the hospital.

I'm hoping that I will be so euphoric after the birth of our baby that changing even the most disgusting of nappies will not affect my mood.  If not, I guess that's what therapists are for!

Friday 21 June 2013

Our 'Naughty' Daughter

Already I feel like one of those parents whose child can do no wrong!  My unborn daughter was called naughty by two different healthcare professionals on Monday.  I didn't like it.  The reason was that, during our scan to check on her size, it was discovered that she is still breech.  She has been breech for at least 4 weeks now.  The chances of her turning before we need to have an induction are getting smaller. 
Some of our rapidly expanding reading materials 

We had been so busy worrying that she would get too big because of my wife's gestational diabetes, that we had just assumed her position would take care of itself.  We had got used to the idea of an early induction and now we have some other possibilities to get our heads around.

The good news is that her size is perfect.  This means that, with everything else being normal, my wife would be induced at about 38 weeks.  However, the sonographer, of course, found that our baby is the wrong way up.  She was the first to comment on our little one's behaviour.  I know she was only joking, but I felt very defensive of my daughter.  It doesn't bode well for the future.  How am I going to react when my daughter's teachers say she has done something wrong?  Will I believe them?  I am delusional enough at this point in the pregnancy to believe that my daughter will be perfectly behaved all of the time once she is born.

One bit of other news from the scan is that we are definitely having a daughter.  This will stop me worrying about what happens if, when our baby arrives, we hear the words 'It's a boy!' when we have spent the last 6 months getting prepared for welcoming a daughter to our family.  She also has hair on the back of her head.  We don't know about the top!

We then had an appointment with the obstetrician.  During these appointments we are seen by a midwife first.  She was the second person to admonish our baby bump.  Silently irritated, I listened as we were told everything else was going well by the registrar.  Then we were told what would happen next.  This is the moment where things get a little complicated.  Bear with me.

At 37 weeks, a little over a week from now, we go to the hospital for a presentation scan.  This will tell use which way up our 'naughty' little girl is.  If she has turned, then we will be on for an induction during the following week.  We have been told that the induction process can take a few days for some people, which we are obviously very excited about!  This is the ideal scenario.  But, if she is still breech then we will be given the option of having an ECV.  This is an External Cephalic Version.  It is a process where the obstetrician externally attempts to turn your baby.  I've seen this done on TV and it looks pretty brutal.  If we choose this option, then we will need to take our hospital bag, as there is a very small risk that baby won't like it and become distressed, which may need an emergency cesarean section.

If the ECV is successful, and our little one doesn't decide to immediately turn herself around on the way home (she is naughty after all), then we'll be back on for an induction at 38 weeks.  If it isn't (and there is close to a 50% chance) then we will be booked in for a cesarean section a couple of weeks later.  We were helpfully informed that people do come in for their cesareans only to discover that their child has turned!  We are not sure what would happen to us at this stage.  We were feeling a little overwhelmed and didn't think to ask this question.  My guess is we'll be induced that day.

So we're a little confused and quite uncertain about what will happen and when it will happen, but we'd be even less certain if everything was going normally!  We'd have no idea when our little lady would be making an appearance.  The important thing is my wife and baby are well and are being very well looked after.  Aside from the behaviour issues we clearly have to address with our daughter the moment she is born (maybe some time of the naughty step will do it!), that is all that matters to me.

Sunday 16 June 2013

Too Busy to Worry?

It's been a busy week.  Things always get busy in any school towards the end of the school year, with reports to write and end of year productions and displays to prepare for.  This year is different though.  To add to the heavy workload, we are of course preparing, or 'nesting', for the birth of our daughter.  The benefit of all of this is the fact that I haven't had too much time to worry about my impending fatherhood.

Our little lady's wardrobe
Bags packed already!
My wife has been busy too.  She has washed all of our little lady's clothes and bedding.  She has also packed the bags for the hospital.  Even though we are 35 weeks through the pregnancy, with 5 weeks left to our due date, we know, because of the diabetes, that we will be having the baby before then.  So, whilst it might seem we have plenty of time to finish these things off, we are of the opinion that you can't be too prepared.  In fact, on Monday, I sent my wife a text checking she had plans to pack the bags, because I'd been told that morning that a friend of a colleague had given birth 5 weeks early.  Hearing things like this, as an expectant parent, only serves to make you more nervous and panic even more.  What if that happens to us?  Are we ready yet?

We started our NCT classes this week as well.  I had no idea what to expect from these classes.  After two sessions, I can honestly say that I have learned a huge amount.  Whilst much of what has been discussed has scared me, all of it has been informative.  There's been a lot talk, as you might expect, about labour.  The signs.  The stages.  The pain.  The drugs.  I've winced on several occasions and none of it will be happening to me physically. 
  

As part of the discussion on pain and pain relief, our class leader brought a TENS machine with her.  This part of the day definitely caused the most hilarity.  We were all given a chance to see how it works (at our own risk, of course) by attaching the pads to our lower arm.  There was an unofficial 'competition' among the expectant dads to see who could make their hand spasm the most by putting the machine on its highest setting and then pressing the 'Boost' button.  The guys found this funny, but there was more than one woman rolling  their eyes or tutting at their partner's juvenile behaviour.

Then there was the balls!  Great big, bouncy balls littering the room.  If you giggled at the last two sentences, then shame on you.  I'm talking about those gym balls that you see pregnant women rigorously bouncing up and down on in 'One Born Every Minute'.  One of the other fathers-to-be commented that getting across the room was like competing in a round of 'It's a Knockout'.  There are over half a dozen of them and every time I walk past them I have to resist the urge to start a game of football.  If we end up getting one at home I am worried that I will break things with my inability to treat it as anything but a really big basketball or football.

The now ready to use utility roorm
As well as this, I've finally cleared the utility room of all the decorating paraphernalia.  Let's ignore the fact it has been there since we moved in 3 months ago and celebrate the fact that it has been done before our daughter arrives.  Now the room can be used for sterilising bottles without the fear that half opened tins of paint and dirty paintbrushes will make any strelising we do completely pointless! It seems like there is nothing like the realisation that your child could arrive any day to make sure you get all of those last minute DIY jobs completed.

Sunday 9 June 2013

Living With Gestational Diabetes

My wife has taken to regularly injecting drugs.  Don't panic, she isn't mainlining heroin.  She is injecting insulin.  Unfortunately, she has been diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  As I have confessed previously, I am not any kind of medical authority.  I don't know how well I am able to explain this condition.  But I will give it a go.

Several weeks ago, because of a family history of later onset diabetes, my wife undertook a glucose tolerance test during a visit to the midwife.  I received a text later that morning from my wife saying that I should phone her when I had a minute.  Everything was fine with our baby, but the results of the test showed that my wife had gestational diabetes.  We were prepared for this because of her family history.  However, it still worried me enormously.  I was worried for my wife and for our unborn baby.  I didn't know much about it, so I promptly Googled it.  This is a dangerous thing to do.  It often leads you to finding the most severe facts about the condition which only served to worry me further.

I know the NHS is often criticised, but we have received some incredible support, care and attention from everyone we have met during the pregnancy.  We found out about the diabetes on the Wednesday before the May Day bank holiday.  The diabetic nurse insisted upon seeing us before the weekend and opened her clinic half an hour earlier on the Friday morning in order to see us and get my wife started on testing her blood sugars.  This is indicative of lengths people in the NHS have been prepared to go to help us during the pregnancy.

We were initially told that my wife's blood sugars might be controlled with diet alone.  However, they weren't.  So within a few days she started tablets which help to lower blood sugar levels.  This had a positive effect for a few more days before it became obvious that even this wasn't helping.  This was an incredibly frustrating and upsetting time for her.  She was doing everything she could do in order to control her sugar levels for the sake of our daughter.  It was yet another point during the pregnancy where I have felt utterly useless.  I was worried and I couldn't do anything to help because she was doing everything possible and it still wasn't helping.  As it turned out, the insulin, which was a last resort at the beginning of the process, was quite a relief to my wife.  Through injecting insulin, she has seen her blood sugars reduce and feels happier that our daughter isn't getting too much sugar.  She feels happier, which means that I feel happier too.

As part of the extra care you receive when you have gestational diabetes, you attend an antenatal clinic where you meet with the diabetic team, including a dietitian, a diabetic nurse and a diabetic consultant who check how well you are getting on with the drug regime and diet restrictions.  You also see an obstetric consultant (or a 'baby doctor' as the diabetic consultant referred to him as).  They check on the baby and how well mother is doing. You also have a scan to check that baby isn't getting too big.  This is the one of the real concerns with gestational diabetes.  Because my wife's body isn't able to control her blood sugars properly, there can be too much sugar in her blood.  This could lead to our baby taking on too much sugar and becoming too big.


We have been to two clinics now.  Our first visit was arranged last minute so we didn't have a scan.  Everything seemed well and my wife's bump was described as 'perfect' in size by the consultant.  In case you are wondering he didn't just have a look, he actually measured it!  The scan at our second visit showed that our baby is progressing well.  She isn't too big.  This is a relief.  In fact she sits very nicely in the middle of the upper and lower percentiles on her growth charts.  We need to return to this clinic a week on Monday where we will have another scan and meet with all of the wonderful healthcare professionals once again to check how both my wife and daughter are keeping and progressing.

Our baby is actually due on 21st July but because of the diabetes and complications which can occur if the pregnancy is allowed to go on past the due date we will be offered an induction at 38 or 39 weeks even if our daughter isn't too big.  On finding out about the induction, largely due to my medical ignorance, it wasn't actually me who was fretting this time, it was my wife.  I don't know much about the process.  I have read about it since finding out and it seems like it could be quite difficult for my my wife.  I now understand (in a very simplified way) what it entails and, therefore, why my wife was panicked.  But what I also know is that she will be given the very best care by the 'baby doctors' and the midwives at Gloucester Royal Hospital.  And I will be there every single step of the way to act as her personal punchbag!  So she needn't fret either!

Saturday 8 June 2013

Dad Dancing

I already feel sorry for my daughter.  And she hasn't been born yet.  I am not at all 'cool'.  I am worried for my daughter, as I will undoubtedly embarrass her.  There will be any number of reasons for this embarrassment.  Top of the list has to be my dancing!

Recently, I attended a friend's wedding and a school disco.  I didn't go to the disco to dance.  I was there in a professional capacity.  But at times I couldn't help myself and I started to dance before quickly realising where I was.  I immediately stopped, but it wasn't always quickly enough and I looked around to see more that one child sniggering at me or rolling their eyes.  At the wedding I did dance.  I didn't dance well, but it's the thought that counts!

I don't think my daughter is going to be impressed that I know all of the moves to 5ive's 'Everybody Get Up'!  There is nothing impressive about it.  Unless you've had far too much to drink.  And at that stage it isn't so much impressive as hilarious.  I can guarantee that she will be embarrassed by it.

As I said, the dancing is just the top of what is quite a long list.  At school we are currently rehearsing a performance to share with the rest of the school and parents at the end of the year.  The children will be performing various routines to a range of modern music.  My problem is that I have not heard most of the songs that they are asking for.  When I ask, "Who sings that?" they look at me with pity in their eyes.  How could this out of touch, old man not know that Jessie J, Ollie Murs or One Direction sings that song?  And, who on Earth is this band called Counting Crows he keeps suggesting?

I don't listen to the radio any more.  Radio One, as far as I can tell, seldom plays music.  When they do, it isn't, in my opinion, any good.  Instead I listen to my iPod.  I do love music.  I am always downloading  it.  None of it, however, is what my daughter will want to listen to.  There isn't any Justin Bieber, The Wanted, Rhianna or Bruno Mars.

So, there's dancing and music for me to embarrass my daughter with.  There's also my choice of car.  I have a Kia C'eed.  It is great to drive and a good size to accommodate our expanding family.  But, it isn't the coolest of cars.  Whilst I might not have the same car when my daughter is old enough to attend school, I don't have a good record when it comes to selecting my motors.  My previous car was an even more embarrassing Rover 45!  I imagine that, once she is old enough to attend school and have conversations with her friends about what car their dads drive, my daughter will probably say something like, "Oh, we don't have a car.  We use the bus."

And of course there's the buggy!  We, it seems, are already prepared to embarrass our child before she is even born.  Pushing her around in that very bright and vivid colour will do nothing for her street-cred.



Wednesday 5 June 2013

The Perfect Package

My wife is a beautiful woman.  She is a beautiful pregnant woman.  My mum told me a few weeks ago that she "...suits pregnancy".  It is true.  She looks fantastic.  I am, of course, biased.  But I know I am not the only person who thinks this.

The problem is that people often make comments about the size of her bump.  I wish they wouldn't!  It really bothers her.  I'm not talking about friends, family or colleagues.  I'm referring to strangers.  Strangers who are more than just a little bit rude (although I'm not sure how many of them are deliberately being rude).

My wife is a very positive person.  It takes a lot to annoy her.  Maybe not as much as it did before she was pregnant, but she is still very placid.  Yet, on more than a few occasions recently, people have said things to make her annoyed and self conscious.  My wife isn't very tall.  In fact she is just under 5 feet 2 inches tall.  (I know this should be written in meters and centimeters and the teacher in me is annoyed that it isn't, but not enough people work in metric, especially when measuring height.)  This mean that our daughter doesn't have anywhere to grow other than out!  However, the obstetrician we saw recently described the size of our bump as perfect.  It was exactly the size it should be.  But people still seem keen to comment on the size.

That's the funny thing about pregnancy.  People feel they can make personal comments to someone they have never met before.  Would these same people comment on a complete stranger's hairline, their weight, their height or their fashion sense?  Almost certainly not.  So why do they think it is okay when speaking to a pregnant woman?

After some people have asked my wife how long she has left, the common response has been, "Oh, are you having twins then?"  A close second is, "Oh, it looks like you're ready to drop now."  She isn't.  Baby isn't due until next month.  But, I'm now worried about going anywhere with my wife for the next few weeks in case someone says something they shouldn't and the fiery red-headed Welsh temperament she must have buried deep down somewhere finally takes over and she assaults someone.  I'm not saying they wouldn't deserve it but I'm not sure you are able to take babies on community service!

It might interest you though that,  when looking at a photo of herself at a recent wedding, my wife gasped, "Oh my god, I'm massive."  So maybe it isn't only strangers who make rude comments about the size of her bump!

Monday 3 June 2013

What's in a Name?

I have been led to believe that we need to name our child once she is born.  This is quite a responsibility.  As you can imagine, it is something that I have spent time worrying about.  If we get it wrong, then it will be our daughter, not us, who has to live with the consequences of having a bizarre, wacky, unusual or inappropriate name.

A few years ago, my wife and I lived and worked in New Zealand for a year and I met some very 'interestingly' named children.  It surprised me then, to find out, that New Zealand actually has a banned baby name list.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/jan/06/new-zealand-justice-baby-names

In fact, I worked with a child with one of these 'banned' names.  And with many more children with even more unusual names.  The idea, however, of such a list, surely makes sense.  But it would not stop the problems when you put a poorly selected Christian name with certain surnames.  For example, Emma is a perfectly pleasant name.  It obviously wouldn't make it on to a banned names list, but if it was teamed with the surname Roids, then someone would be in for a lifetime of name-related trauma.  There's nothing wrong with the name Annette, unless your surname is Curtain.  If your surname is Time or Case, then you'd be wise to avoid the name Justin for you son.  You can do a search of silly names on the internet and keep yourself amused for hours.  Many of them are undoubtedly made up.  But some must be true.

Then there is the celebrity trend (which in my experience, extends beyond just the rich and famous) of giving your children a 'unique' name.  If you knew your child was going to have to live their life in the media spotlight, wouldn't you want to avoid a name which was open to ridicule?  Apparently not!

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2013/05/21/klay-rooney-funny-celebrity-baby-names_n_3312603.html

I'm confident that when William and Kate name their child later this summer it won't be bizarre or unusual.  I'm glad about this.  I don't think a future king or queen should be named after an American city, a fruit or even a colour.

I've clearly become distracted.  I wanted to write about our difficulties with names and I haven't so far!  We have a list of names for our daughter.  It is a heavily guarded secret.  We don't want to be put off of the names we like by people's reactions.

When we didn't know whether we were having a boy or a girl, we had a firm favourite if it was a boy.  Now, I will admit, it did fall in the unusual bracket.  There is a reason for this.  My wife is Welsh.  It seemed to us that if we gave our child a Welsh name it would be a great way for them to be reminded of their heritage.  This, we felt, was especially important as we will be bringing them up in England.  So we discussed many Welsh names.  Some we loved, others we didn't.  Much like any other list of names.  Then we found one we really liked.

The name we liked was Idris.  Actually, we still like this name.  It is a traditional Welsh name.  But we won't be using it for our daughter!  The problem was that, when we shared this name with a certain close relative, who shall remain nameless, they reacted rather poorly.  You would have thought we were suggesting that our child might be named Lucifer or Adolf.  We instantly knew that we could not name our child this.

By the time we found out we were having a girl, the nameless relative had changed their mind.  They now claim that they think it is a lovely name.  I think that may just be a little too convenient.  It doesn't matter now.  It is no longer relevant.  But the experience has made us wary.

It is difficult enough to find names you like when you are a teacher and are from a huge family.  My mum has five siblings and my dad has four.  I have over 20 cousins and many of them have their own children.  That's a lot of names.  A lot of names we cannot choose for our own child.  I have been teaching for 10 years.  During that time I have met many, many wonderful children.  I have also met some who have displayed challenging behaviour in class or around school.  I would find it difficult to name my child after particular children.  I can't imagine I would name my child after the pupil who whacked me with some branches he'd ripped off a tree.  Or the one who'd graffitied rather unpleasantly about me in the toilets (at least he'd spelled the key swear words correctly!)  Or the child who hit me in the face with a very well hit tennis ball during a game of cricket!

Now we have chosen the names on our shortlist, we know that we have to keep them quiet so that people don't have chance to criticise them or react poorly to them.  We figure that it will be more difficult for them to do this when they are told our daughter's name after she is born, rather than just some ideas we have for her name.  Let's hope that is the case!

Sunday 2 June 2013

One Petrified Every Minute

Over the past few months, I have, more than once, woken to the sounds of a pregnant woman screaming.  And it wasn't my wife.  I should probably clarify that first sentence.  It has actually been several different pregnant women.   The screaming doesn't stop when I wake up.  I haven't been dreaming.  It is in the room and it terrifies me each and every time.

I have always had a habit of falling asleep on the sofa with the TV on.  This has been happening a lot recently.  Maybe I'm tired from the busy nature of my work or getting the new house decorated.  Maybe it is because I've not been sleeping too well at night because of my high levels of excitement about the pregnancy, as well as my many worries and concerns about it.  Whatever the reason, it means that I often wake up disorientated and confused for a couple of seconds long after I should have taken myself off to bed.

It is during these moments on a Wednesday night that the screaming happens.  The TV is showing One Born Every Minute, the documentary set in a maternity ward.  The screaming pregnant women are in the process of giving birth.  It is graphic and very real.  This is what will happen to my wife next month and it is this situation that causes my greatest worry.  Childbirth.

I have never felt comfortable watching this programme.  I take myself from the room if my wife watches it.  In fact, she is feeling more and more uncomfortable watching it now that the big event is drawing nearer.  When I awake to the screaming, my wife isn't in the room any more.  She has gone to bed and I'm left wondering (once the panic has subsided) if she has deliberately left the TV on that channel in an attempt to remind me of what she will have to go through soon and how lucky I am not to have to go through it myself.  My wife isn't that type of person, so I am sure it is just a coincidence.

http://lifebegins.channel4.com/ 

I have felt pretty useless throughout the pregnancy and I'm sure that I will continue to feel this way for the next 5 or 6 weeks.  But, that is nothing to how useless I am sure I will feel in the delivery suite.  I have no medical experience or training at all.  If my wife needed help with her multiplication tables or spellings then I'd be pretty useful.  She, of course, doesn't require this kind of help.  She needs trained midwives and doctors.  Thanks to the wonderful NHS she will get this.  She will also get me, whether she wants me or not!

I'm prepared for the inevitable abuse I will get during labour.  I will deserve it.  I will have had a significant role to play in my wife being there after all.  I'm not sure I'm prepared for much else. 

I do know that I will have it easy compared to my wife.  I also know that she will be in excellent and incredibly capable hands.  Everyone in the health care profession that we have met over the course of the pregnancy has been caring, knowledgeable and professional.  I have the utmost confidence that they will look after my wife and child.

I have heard many positive stories from male friends about how amazing it was being in the room when their child was born.  So maybe I should stop worrying and look forward to it!