The wait goes on

After last weeks fiasco of an appointment and five days of waiting and worrying we had hoped that our appointment on Wednesday would give us some explanation and reassurance.

Not at all.

Firstly, I had a chat with my midwife the day before about my previous appointment shambles. Apparently she had gone into work that morning to five complaints, all, she thinks, referring to the same sonographer.

"You could write a letter but you haven't got time." she said to me. I told her it was nothing to do with time and I could write a letter in minutes if I thought it would do anything but I didn't think it would. I was just unhappy, I told her, at the continuously poor treatment and attitide I was receiving from the hospital and it sadly seemed to be purely because of the number of children I have.

Their attitudes and opinions, I continued to tell her, had nothing to do with the care I was supposed to be getting from them, from the gynaecologist who refused to investigate the reasons for our recurrent miscarriages, to the registrar who was more concerned with convincing me to agree to be sterilised, to the sonographer last week. Their opinions are their own. They should keep them to themselves.

She said that she agreed and would telephone the managers so that someone would come and find me when I went for my appointment on Wednesday so that I could tell them about it.

On the day of the appointment we sat in the waiting room for ages. First, half an hour passed from the original appointment time. Every time someone's name was called you'd think "We must be next!". We were finally called in over an hour and a half after our appointment time. We were then left to wait while the sonographer and his colleague looked over my notes and tried working out how many weeks I now was given that at my last appointment five days ago I was 22+2. The sonographer stated I was now 28 weeks.

Wow, if only pregnancies went that fast!

I interrupted them to say that I was actually 23 weeks that day. They continued looking at my notes and I asked when they would be doing my blood tests as we had already been there almost two hours and we desperately needed to collect one of our children (Ben) who had to stay behind after school until we could pick him up.

"You've already had your blood tests" they stated.

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have. They wrote they did the tests already."

"No, they didn't. They told me to come back on Monday. But the person I spoke to on Monday said they'd do the blood tests today."

"Oh."

"So when will you be doing them?"

"We don't know how busy the nurses are. You'll have to wait."

Obviously waiting for almost two hours isn't enough for them.

The sonographer then told me to lie down so that he could have a look at the baby. He took some more of the baby's measurements, and finally checked the bowel. Yes, the previous sonographer was right.

Then he said he'd go and get the consultant.

We waited another fifteen minutes.

By the time the consultant finally came in it was over 2 hours since my original appointment time. He quickly scanned me, then had a conversation with the other two members of staff before telling me that, yes, the baby does have a hyperechogenic bowel. He asked me what had been explained to me and I told him that nothing had. "Nothing?!" he smiled as if I may be wrong and had a temporary loss of hearing while a great explanation was being made on Friday.

"Nothing except that it could be where it swallowed blood or it could be serious."

"Oh, well..." and then he continued to say how yes, it could be swallowed blood, or infection, or something chromosomal, or Cystic Fibrosis or Downs... and that he confirms that the baby does indeed have it.

He confirms it? Is that it?

We've waited over two hours thinking we'd get answers or something more solid from him for him to say that he's done his job and confirms it. We now have to wait to have our blood taken. I told him that we really, really couldn't wait any longer. It was now about 5pm and Ben had finished school at 3.20pm!

I was then told by the consultant at how he had squeezed me into todays and how he had come from Blah Blah hospital in London (I think I was supposed to be impressed by that) and that I was lucky because they could make me travel to London to the wonderful Blah Blah hospital for these blood tests but because they were helping me they agreed to see me today.

So why didn't they give me an appointment at the end instead of forty minutes from the start of the afternoon session?

But no, I ought to be grateful to him because he's from Blah Blah hospital.

Anyway, he carried on. We needed to get these tests done so we'd know more about what was going on. We can't rule out any chromosomal of life threatening issues to the baby without them so of course, we have to have them so that we can decide what to do. What to do if...

After another twenty odd minutes we are finally ready to leave. The sonographers colleague brought us the report of today's findings with the consultant's confirmation, and she informed us that I will have to return for growth scans every four weeks in case the placenta fails. She added that they hope to have the blood test results back by then.

Erm, hope to?!

Yes, they take about a month, maybe longer. Another month of not knowing. By the time we know anything, good or bad I'll be almost three quarters of the way through my pregnancy. And they want a decision?

Mike and I left the hospital frustrated. Angry at the attitude again, at the wait which was far beyond reasonable, frustrated and disappointment that we were no closer to knowing whether anything was wrong with our little baby or not and well, just upset really.

We were hoping we'd know, one way or the other but the one thing that we are certain of is that this decision is neither here nor there.

Of course we hope for the best outcome and are trying to focus on the positives - baby is growing well to date, there are no other markers and everything else looks good, so while there is a chance that it may be bad news, there's a higher chance that it isn't.

And if it isn't perfectly healthy, we'll deal with it.

And if it's the absolute worst, we'll deal with it. We'll have to. Grieving will be hard no matter what stage you're at. But to end the pregnancy ourselves is not something we feel we have the right to do.

So although we have no more answers, we're hopeful and praying that everything will be alright. And I have an amazing peace that as a family we will cope, no matter what.



This post can also be found at Lots of Kids and Pregnant Again.

Swimming through treacle

That's how I'd describe the last couple of days. I'm still reeling from the treatment at Friday's appointment. I'm still upset that I was told that there may be something quite serious wrong with my baby, and then ushered out of the door with no further explanation or reassurance.

We've now spent the weekend in limbo. All we know is that we're supposed to be going back to the hospital on Wednesday for another scan as well as a blood test. We don't know anything about anything. We don't have an appointment time as the one person who books the appointments was not there on Friday. I don't know what blood tests they are meant to be carrying out, as no forms were given. And as well as the main worry of whether my baby is ok or not, is the overall treatment I was given at Friday's appointment.

Oh, I forgot to tell you about the moment man sonographer asked me if I was coping ok with my children. Yes, he did. And I don't know where that came from or why I was asked that. It wasn't done in the way of "Oh! Seven children! How do you cope?!" kind of way that we're used to from parents of fewer who couldn't possibly imagine how you do the every day stuff with more kids, but in the way that surely it must be affecting my mental state and I must find it horrible. I told him that it was fine. My children are good children and I have a good husband too, so no problem. But it's bugging me. Why did he ask that? What place is it of his?

Early on in the pregnancy, I was bleeding and had been told by the sonographer that she couldn't see anything on the screen and it was likely I was going to have my ninth miscarriage within days. She still arranged a second scan for the following week and I was so scared.

The morning of the scan before I went to hospital prayed to St Gerard Majella, the Patron Saint of Motherhood. A couple of hours later I heard the news that a perfect little baby with strong heartbeat was growing. A couple of weeks later I found St Gerard Majella's prayer card when we were on a family visit somewhere. I'd never found it before. It is now sitting above my desk, and I've said the prayer many times in the last couple of days.

Today I am sitting by the phone waiting for the call to let me know what time to go in on Wednesday. The blanket I've been knitting for the new baby is now left to one side. I'm scared to look forward. I'm scared to make plans. I'm trying to reassure myself with the positives; that Mike and I have no family history of problems, that no other soft markers have been found which may indicate an increased risk of a problem and that everything else seems to be fine according to the previous scans and blood tests. But there's still the worry, and the stress of "What if..."

And of course, I still have to get on with life despite thinking that the phone won't ring unless I'm holding it, or staring at it intensely. I still have meals to cook, laundry to do, floors to clean and dishes to wash. Time is going slowly, and I'm moving like I'm swimming through treacle.

And all the while I do it while thinking "What if..."

Worrying times

Today I had my mid pregnancy scan. I haven't had a good couple of days, with one thing and another, so I'm not surprised that today was a shambles from the moment we walked in.

For once I managed to find a parking space quite easily in the hospital car park. We arrived ten minutes before my appointment time, because as the sign tells you "If you are more than twenty minutes late for your appointment you will have to reschedule a new one." Half an hour after my appointment time I was finally called into the sonographer's room.

There were two sonographers in there, a lady and a man. The man would begin and asked me to lay down on the table. "No, up a bit, over a bit, down, you're too far down, move yourself up....". After a while of this he told me that I was stressed. Quote "because you have so many children". I only had the three youngest with me, two of which were in a buggy and the third sitting perfectly well on the chair beside me. All three children were quiet. "I am stressed but it's not because I have so many children." I told him.

Man sonographer asked if I'd had any bleeding. I told him I had early on in the pregnancy for a couple of weeks.

The lady then asked me twice whether I wanted to know the sex. No I do not. I don't want to know. Twice, while the man sat beside me did I state this.

Man Sonographer began the scan. All was looking good. My wonderful neighbour and friend who accompanied me marvelled at how the picture was so clear and how much you could see. Oh everything was going well. Nothing to worry about at all!

Then, he began to tell me the sex!! "I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!" I said... again.

And then he told me.

"I said that I didn't want to know." I said quietly.

"Oh I'm so sorry". Thanks.

"There's a bleed in the baby's bowel," he said. Then he continued "It could just be where it's swallowed some of your bleed earlier on in the pregnancy, or it could be more serious. But it's likely to be because of the bleeding."

He then continued the scan. A while during which nothing was explained to me, indeed I was completely ignored while the two of them spoke quietly between themselves. Then he began saying how everything is fine. All measurements are good, and nothing to show any concern. Sid had managed to dislodge a part of the buggy - not a big deal, just the drinks tray in front of him. According to man sonographer he was being a bad boy. I told him that actually, he was a very good boy and was not being bad at all.

While my friend took Eddie to the toilet man sonographer apologised again for telling me the sex. Apparently, this is only the second time he did this in all the time he's been doing the job. I told him it didn't matter.

"Never mind" I told him.

Inside I thought "Perhaps try listening to people next time."

Around forty five minutes later I was still lying there, only now they had swapped over. Lady sonographer had now taken over and was getting the final measurements.

Almost an hour after I first went in we were finally ready to leave and about to walk out of the door. One moment they were saying how everything was ok with the baby and there was nothing to worry about. Just... hold on... actually...

... baby has a hyperechogenic bowel. They went over how they'd said that it may be where it had swallowed some of the bleeding from earlier in the pregnancy. Only now they are more concerned that it may be an indicator of fetal infection, cystic fibrosis, bowel obstruction or chromosomal abnormalities. Could I have a blood test and go back for another growth scan? Yes, of course I can.

So I was asked to wait in the waiting room for the paperwork. The lady sonographer came out after another ten minutes and told me that I'd have to go back on Monday for a blood test, then back again next Wednesday for another scan. She handed me the paperwork to give to the receptionist, and then she walked off. The receptionist had no idea what to do. "Leave it with me and we'll get in touch" she said handing me some papers.

I got home and looked at the papers, expecting them to have some information regarding my blood test, perhaps, or my scan appointment.

Nothing.

I was upset, tired, fed up and didn't have a clue what was going on. I rang the hospital back and explained the situation. Now I have to wait until someone calls me on Monday as the lady who makes the appointments isn't in today (!). Obviously, nobody else is qualified to make appointments in this hospital.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. I'm extremely worried, have no idea if my baby is ok or what is going to happen as nothing has been explained to me in even the slightest detail. Google certainly isn't your friend when you're worried about something so I'm torn between doing my own research and not, because the answers are far too upsetting.

I feel useless and sad and don't know what to do.

Please God, please let our baby be ok.




I have also posted this at Lots of Kids and Pregnant Again

Storytime with big brother

It could be the funny voices he animates the stories with, or it could be the stories he reads by turning them into songs. Either way, the younger boys love their older brother reading to them.

Painting by numbers

I can see plenty of paint. I don't see much taking notice of the numbers though!

Bagging a bargain

Mike and I are always so happy to find things we need (or want!) at a bargain price. While we're not extravagant in the slightest, there is still plenty of room for improvement in our spending habits and so, given that we made the pledge a couple of years ago to become debt free, we can finally see the end in sight.

Having said that, given the state of the economy, and the uncertainty of not knowing what lies around the corner, needs state that becoming even more frugal is somewhat of a necessity in order to make our lives better sooner rather than later.

Clothes are normally bought in the sales, or at discount centres. Food is bought according to budget. If we don't have enough for something we don't buy it. If we want or need something we save for it first. We know that things like the car tax and MOT will be due, and that Christmas will come around every December 25th and we save for it rather than do what we once did and go into debt for it and spend the next x months paying it off.

We're having to constantly re-educate ourselves about money, and all the while we kick ourselves for ever having taken on the debt monster in the first place. And for what? We don't even remember!

We try to pass on what we've learnt and are still learning onto the children. We would like them to avoid falling into the traps of poor money management and spending like there's no tomorrow. We'd like them to think of the future and the "what ifs" of the spend or save scenario before them and how their lives would be affected. But it's pointless wanting all this for them if we don't lead by example and actually show them.

One thing though, is that we've never gone without. By God's grace I'm sure, we've always managed to make ends meet no matter what, even when some unexpected bill has come up or the washing machine has broken down and needed replacing urgently.

When Stephanie came home from school one day a few months ago and said that her piano teacher recommended she had a proper piano in order to practice on rather than the full size keyboard we already had, we scoffed. No way was that on the list at any point in the future. Completely unaffordable, unnecessary and unthinkable so you can get that idea out of your head.

A few months later look what we found quite unexpectedly...



... for the bargain price of £2.99!

Yes, a full size piano for under three pounds! I was thrilled to say the least and although it took some furniture rearranging we just managed to squeeze it in. In all honesty, I still had to pay another £70 odd to have it brought over but still, in my eyes, a wonderful, fantastic and unexpected bargain that will benefit the whole family.

Does anyone else have any good bargain finds?

Bookworm

This is how Harry can often be found:



Sometimes in his clothes...



Sometimes in his pyjamas:



And sometimes he'll be here...

... which is where he sat for almost two hours until he'd read one book from start to finish.

A visit to the library results in bringing home a shopping bag full of books which are read within a matter of days. One visit a week is seemingly not enough.

Harry doesn't mind what he reads. He'll read anything. And then he'll go back and read it again. Which is lucky as I've lost count of the number of books he's read this week alone and all I know is that we're rapidly running out of unread books in the house. And that's saying something as we have a lot of books.

It's catching too. The younger ones see him settling down with a book and then join him. In fact, only one child so far hasn't got addicted to books.

I couldn't think of a better habit for them to get into.

A decision on our decision

Last week I posted about our decision to homeschool the children from Harry down. Having discussed the matter further, done more research and talked to the children we have also decided that Caitlin too will be homeschooled.

We've also brought forward the time from September, as it seemed pointless to wait so long when we were certain of our decision. Caitlin and Harry will now not be returning to school after the next half term, meaning they have just five weeks left.

We're all looking forward to the next phase and also a little apprehensive. On the one hand the enormity of the responsibility of taking on their whole education ourselves is quite overwhelming, whilst other hand, we've been teaching our children something or other since the moment they were born.

Despite that, one thing that we're certain of is that we're doing the right thing. There hasn't been a single reason behind our decision to be the main educators of our children, but several of them including (*shock*)... spending more time with them!

So here's to our new journey... together.

The things they say: Part 2

Eddie and I were talking phonetics.

Me: "And what starts with the letter D?"

Eddie, after a short while: "Umma, I give up"

Me, trying to help him along and sounding out the letters phonetically: "Ah, Beh, Ceh..."

Eddie, triumphantly: "DABRA!!!"

One small step along the world he goes

Finally, at the age of 18 months, Paddy has decided that bum shuffling is old news and that this walking thing everyone else keeps doing might be worth a try.

Not wanting to let go at first...




... and this balancing stuff is much harder than it looks...



... until a few more goes later when...



... he did it!!!

Well done Paddy!

Perfect Parenting: Tip Number Four - Raising Teenage Daughters

Cowl neck jumpers are good for them.

When you're the youngest...

... you may want to make sure your jacket is zipped up all the way before your older brothers and sisters get to you.

New year, new decisions

This morning Mike returned to work after a break over Christmas and the New Year. It's 6.30am right now and it's been 45 minutes since he left and I'm missing him already.

I like having him around. I enjoyed his company and having the whole family together. I especially enjoyed the chance to have time to talk.

We've had time to discuss plans to help life run smoother and become more organised and manage time better. We've discussed the laundry, plans for creating storage space and restructuring the children's chores, becoming more frugal both because we need to and because we want to try to shift our outstanding debt this year. Twice, I think, we may have talked about potential baby names but hey, there's plenty of time for that!

But one thing we've talked about for a while now is the children's education.

For some time we've felt disillusioned with several aspects of mainstream schooling. There are some fantastic teachers who do a great job and this isn't at all what we're unhappy with. In a nutshell, we're not happy with the whole system.

So after the best part of the last couple of months of umming and ahhing we've made the final decision that we will be homeschooling our children from Harry (number four) down.

Ben only has a few more months to go to complete his GCSE's and then go onto college. Stephanie, who was homeschooled for over two years but has been back in the school system for just over the last year, has one more year to go.

Harry will be finishing up this school year, but we've decided that he won't return in September. Eddie, who was due to begin in September, now won't be. The rest of the younger children will also be educated at home.

The only one we had a little difficulty deciding on was Caitlin. She is currently a year away from her 11+ exams, which she'll either pass or fail. If she passes she can get a place in a grammar school (unless she wishes to be homeschooled, which is fine), and if she fails she won't and in this case we've decided that she too will be taught at home.

Between now and September we'll be getting the curriculum together. Having already done homeschooling both autonomously and following a curriculum I find that more structure works for me. We have also decided to go with a ready made one, so that I don't have too much preparation to make and do myself, knowing how much I did with Stephanie, especially with several differing ages of child. I feel more comfortable with this although may HS'ing parents prefer to go with the flow.

The next few months will also enable us to get the practical side of things sorted. Equipment, stationary, extra craft stuff (which we do have a supply of already thanks to my "Learning Box" - I'll have to elaborate on that another day!) and of course, storage. Oh yes, it'll also give me a chance to resettle with a new baby added to the family and then allow me to restructure some kind of routine and timetable to work with. Knowing what I have to do and the time I have to do it in will ease the pressure and allow me to organise myself and everything else. It's easier that way!

The good thing is that we have been down this road before with Stephanie and don't have the initial doubts and wariness that we had back then. We're more comfortable with knowing our abilities and acknowledging our limits. On the whole we're more confident about the decision and our ability to carry it out.

Oh we know that every day isn't going to be a walk in the park. Some days are better than others no matter what you do. But making the decision to continue the role of teaching our children is one that we are completely at ease with. After all, we've been teaching them since the day they were born and done a pretty good job of it.

For us, it's not about a school's ranking, it's not about money, it's not about political correctness or whether contact sports should be allowed. It's not about fitting square pegs into round holes. It's about giving our children the best education we can, in an environment we agree with with the two people who know them best.

We all need something we can depend on

You are always there for me.

Always.

No matter what else life throws at me I know that I can depend on you being there.

There isn't anything else you'd rather do. There isn't anywhere else you'd rather be.

You are always there for me.

No matter what.

Your presence is constant. You commit to never let me forget that you'll always be around. We've shared many moments, you and I.

I'm sorry to have to tell you that things are going to be changing. Perhaps not very soon, or even in the next couple of months, but hopefully, at some point this year.

The truth is that as much as you may your consistency and presence reassures me and makes me feel wanted, needed, even loved, I have to tell you that actually... it doesn't.

You are always there.

You greet me first thing in the morning.

You are there, several times every single day.

And you are the last thing to bid me a goodnight before I climb the steps to my bed.

And I have had enough!

I have to be blunt here. I cannot soften the blow you are about to receive.

I have had enough of my life revolving around you. Over the years you have bound yourself to me more and more. It has now reached the point where I can't spend a few hours out without you beckoning me. I have to make sure that you are all sorted, all ready and, all dealt with and much as it pains me to tell you this, my world does not revolve around you.

Sometimes, absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?

I think we need a break.

So we have made a decision.

We're planning on getting a second washing machine.

Don't mock, you clingy, committed laundry pile, just because you know that finances aren't readily available, for believe me, somehow we will get there. And get this... we are even hoping to be able to get a cheap but reliable washer dryer so that we can dry any extra there isn't the room to hang any more.

But no more will we be spending every minute of every day together. No more will you be there for me after lunch time. No more will I listen to your humming and whirring bidding me goodnight before bedtime. I'll give you my mornings, but then, that's it!

It's for your own good.

Actually, no.

It's for mine.

Happy New Year!

Hoping 2009 is a good one for you all!