There's Always Room For One More

So its official.  My mental decline is soon to be closer to its goal of completion.  Yes we are going to welcome another Jones baby into our lives this summer. 

We are just over half way through the process of growing this new little blessing (or should I say I am just over half way through the ordeal) and have finally come to terms with her presence in our lives.  Oh by the way, did you get that?  Yes it is going to be another girl!!  Of course we should have known given the sneaky way she managed to get herself into my uterus that it would be a girl.  After all girls are way more sneaky than boys.

Now I have had three prior pregnancies all of which have been filled with much sickness and trauma.  I was not really ready to put my hand up for another at this particular time but I was unhappy with our birth control.  I was ready to try a completely non hormonal method in an effort to get my body away from the craziness that comes from all the extra hormones racing through it.

Now some of you may be slapping your foreheads or nodding knowingly at the sheer stupidity of this but believe me I was ready for a more calm and even keeled me and I had a plan.  Oh yes, I had a glorious plan.  I even downloaded an iPhone app to help me.

You see I know all about how babies are made.  I attended the sex education classes in high school.  I remember sitting through one of these classes when I was 16 or so (remember this was a very very long time ago).

As we all sat there being lectured on the various pros and cons of a seemingly endless array of contraceptive methods the teacher briefly mentioned natural family planning.  One of my classmates excitedly exclaimed that this was the preferred method of her parents (I’m quite sure her parents would have been mortified had they realized that the entire 6^th form was now privy to this fact).  We all collapsed in peals of laughter since she was the oldest of quite a number of children (I forget how many but it was at least five and maybe more).

Now I admit I momentarily forgot to factor into my glorious plan that my past experiences with ovulation have been less than regular.  But even so I thought I had all bases covered.

Enter on the scene one husband, who quite alarmingly one day announced that it wouldn’t be so bad to have another child right now.  I just about fell over at that.  This is the guy who, after every child was born, swore many oaths to never let this happen again.  Actually I don’t think he ever waited for the child to be born to exclaim those oaths.  You see he lives on the other side of my morning sickness and other pregnancy related maladies.  He had declared his happiness with what we already had after every birth and although he was happy to participate in the production of his children he was more than apprehensive each time we were actually pregnant.

I was astounded that he could be thinking this way not even two and half years after what goes down in history as the worst pregnancy of them all.  I tried to talk him out of this silliness and redoubled my natural birth control measures.

Now before any of you say those words which have echoed in my head since people started finding out that I had failed in my efforts, hear me out.  It may usually ‘take two to tango’ but I’m afraid at the moment of conception only one of us was doing ‘the tango’, I on the other hand was doing more of a line dance.  Little did I know but one member of the duo had come to the party severely underdressed and despite efforts to communicate this lack we were at that moment struck by a serious case of marital miscommunication which of course resulted in my current uterine occupant.

James was excited from the moment we found out about the newest inmate but it did take me more than a few weeks to get over the initial shock.  I am now just as excited as he is.

It hasn’t been completely plain sailing but I have to say this has been the pregnancy with the least amount of morning sickness.  I did have a severe bout of some kind of tummy bug along with the morning sickness at the beginning of December.  I was instructed by my obgyn to go straight to the emergency room to be rehydrated and have them stop the vomiting. 

I went there and was immediately put into a room with two beds.  At the time the other bed was empty and all was quiet.  James was not allowed to stay due to having Abigail with him and so he was forced to go back home.  I ended up staying there for much of the day and shortly after arriving was joined by a very loud and slightly senile 93 year old woman.  Unfortunately her problem for the day was that she could not poop and had passed out while trying.  She was accompanied by her two daughters who relayed her entire medical history to the many doctors who came to examine her. 

When I say examine her, I mean REALLY examine her.  Each time they did this (and it was many times) they would have to come over to my side of the room to don their gloves and then after said examination, during which they would commentate exactly what they were feeling, they would come back to dispose of the now soiled gloves.  This really did nothing for the nausea that was ravaging my body.

What was worse was when the elderly patient decided that she did indeed feel the urge to purge.  I figured they would wheel her to the nearest bathroom (which was very close) but no, apparently when you are that old and frail you go where you lay so to speak.  She was helped in many ways I have tried to forget and many positions were discussed rather loudly.  Eventually something worked and from then on there seemed to be a steady stream of you know what.  Now I have spent the last almost eight years dealing with the production of that particular by product and I have never smelled anything like what came out of that old woman.  What was worse was that I couldn’t get away from it at all and it didn’t seem to dissipate over time.

I had been pumped full of anti nausea medication and fluids and finally felt the need to use the bathroom myself.  I was walked over to the room but as soon as I got back I started throwing up again.  Unfortunately for me my nurse was at that time helping the doctor examine my neighbor again and I was left to my own devices.

As I lay there for what seemed like endless hours I resorted to putting my head under the blankets to at least deaden the smell a little bit.  I was in this position when one of the doctors came in to check on me.  He probably thought I had passed away.

I was finally allowed to go home late in the afternoon and I have to say even though I still felt terrible and hadn’t stopped throwing up I was happy to wave goodbye.

I did get to see my baby that day which was a bonus.  I hadn’t expected an ultrasound and wouldn’t have got one at all except that on that day the er doctors were training for recertification in ultrasounds for trauma patients.  They decided that I was the perfect candidate since I wasn't actually suffering from a trauma.  The doctor was talked through the whole procedure and I got to see my heart, liver, kidneys, spleen, diaphragm and one rib that kept getting in the way which was annoying to the doctor to no end. 

The doctor seemed rather intrigued to find Morison’s pouch in there (I was wondering who Morison was and why he had left his pouch in my chest).  Later on he was just as excited to find the pouch of Douglas although that one was harder to see since the baby was squashing it somewhat.  I was happy to see the baby doing somersaults and this also delighted the doctor.  I managed the whole examination without throwing up on the doctor and was pleased to see that I had not been charged for the examination when the bill came.

Apart from that little drama the pregnancy has been fairly uneventful.  Besides feeling achy and slow (somewhat remedied by regular visits with my chiropractor) the only really annoying side effect to being pregnant is that I tend to sneeze all the time.  Add this to the fact that my bladder control is less than robust and you will understand why I have advanced from regular panty liners to something a little more absorbent.  Lets just say the tv ads showing women happily doing star jumps and laughing up a storm due to their renewed confidence are particularly relevant to me right now.

Of course Abigail has her own take on these products and since she is my regular morning helper when I’m getting dressed she happily hands me my ‘diaper’ as she puts it and no amount of telling her it is not a diaper will satisfy her.  I am just waiting for the day she tells someone in public that mummy wears diapers.

Today while helping me she wanted to throw away the wrapper and she saw that the bin was overflowing with them so she puts her little hands up to her chin and says with her adorable toddler voice “aww, it witt its famiwy now”.