St Thomas' Hospital - Antenatal Unit

Sorry for not posting the last couple of days...things have been rather...interesting, shall we say...

Looking back, everything actually sort of started on Monday (which seems an awfully long way away now), Flyingpops was complaining that she was in quite a bit of pain, which she was putting down to indigestion, so we self-medicated her with a glug or two of Gaviscon, some deflatine tablets and a warm bath, still managing to get to work on Tuesday (thinking all was well)...the next thing I know, having got almost to home time, I have Flyingpops on the 'phone clearly very upset telling me the pain has got a lot worse and that she had just seen a little blood - she had already rung East Surrey and they had told her not to muck about trying to get home, just get to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible...minutes later (after Flyingpops has managed to get to Guy's hospital and been told that they don't have an antenatal unit (Grrr!), she is referred to St Thomas') we have managed to find each another at a buzzing London Bridge station (just starting to get into rush-hour mode) and score a taxi (which then proceeds to get caught at every single traffic light on the route) and shortly after that we are hurrying towards the Antenatal Triage department on the 7th floor of the North building of St Thomas' hospital (with all sorts of dreadful thoughts running through our heads)...

When we *finally* get past the Midwives confusion over the fact that the pregnancy notes are totally different for this health authority (even down to different coloured paper), we have to fill out a bunch more forms (something about blood tests not being possible at this hospital otherwise) and they start running (what will turn out to be) the first of a *lot* of tests...urine comes back normal (that one takes seconds), and then the baby monitor is on, after an agonising few seconds a familiar "whoosh, woosh, woosh" noise emerges from the speaker, Flyingpops looks up at the midwife and says "Is that the baby?", and putting her hand on Flyingpops shoulder, the midwife smiles and nods...

Thank *God* for that...

But the fun isn't over yet, next stop is the antenatal day unit to get the pain/bleeding checked out...again the monitor goes on, and this time some extra blood gets taken (three vials) from Flyingpops left arm at the elbow joint -

- during which I point out interesting things happening on the Thames out the window while Flyingpops tries to smile and ignore the needle...a doctor comes and pokes and prods the bump, and pronounces that this pain is extremely unusual...examining the output from the machine, he starts to point out spikes clearly (to him) showing the start of (fairly irregular) contractions...things got a little bit gynaecological at this point, but the net result is that the baby appeared to be trying to be born and was in completely the wrong position to do so (not to mention extremely early)...a hurried conversation overheard between two doctors through the flimsy curtain informs us that a delivery suite was being prepared for us, and that an urgent c-section was definitely on the cards...

Flyingpops is told not to eat or drink anything (part of being prepped for surgery), and before too long we are whipped along to the delivery room, where we meet our midwife for the night shift (and her boss), who between them manage to make a bit of a mess of poor Flyingpops hands -

- and then put her on a drip to keep her hydrated, and then we are left to our own devices, knowing that at any minute we could be parents of a very tiny baby, in an incubator...later on that evening Flyingpops is given a steroid injection to super-charge the little one's lung development (that it may very soon be relying on for oxygen)...and then, despite the promise of a mattress which never materialised, I snatch a tiny amount of disturbed sleep curled up on the delivery room floor, a tiny baby towel folded up under my ear to keep my head off the cold ground, and a single sheet which all night long I change my mind about whether draping it over my body or trying to bunch it onto lumps under my body in an attempt to protect my joints is the better approach...neither were much good, and the next day I'm aching all over, feeling very much like I've just taken a red eye flight from the US...bleugh...and Flyingpops hasn't slept a wink...

Anyway, finally we then get a bit of good news, brought to us in the hand of an elderly orderly - a breakfast menu - the doctor has announced that the fast is over, Flyingpops can eat(!) - and with it is removed any risk of being suddenly rushed into theatre...*phew*...from here on in, we crept slowly back down the risk scale, moving later that day to one of the regular antenatal wards where Flyingpops was observed regularly, but not quite as often, and there are also a few people to talk to (as a bonus), one lady who was 2 days from delivering twins, and one poor girl who had been stuck in the hospital for 4 *weeks* with high blood pressure...and these are our (sometimes noisy) companions until the last test results come back (yesterday) and Flyingpops is finally allowed to come home...

So we very, very nearly had a picture of a premature baby to show to you this week...and now, if you will excuse me (to quote John Travolta) I'm going to go and have a heart attack... ;)

First NCT Class, Redhill

Last week (on Wednesday) we went along to our first NCT Antenatal class...I really wasn't sure quite what to expect, all I knew was that every single person I had ever spoken to about pregnancy who has had any sort of contact with the NCT recommended it wholeheartedly...so when we found out that Flyingpops was "with issue", it was a bit of a no-brainer but to apply to attend...it costs quite a bit to go along (I think we paid just shy of £200 for the pleasure) so I will admit to having had a certain amount of curiosity as to what we were going to get for our money...as it turns out I was actually extremely impressed...

Our classes were to take place in our tutor's house in Grovehill road in Redhill, starting at the commuter friendly time of 8pm, finishing (just as the yawns start to kick in) at 10pm, every Wednesday (until we know everything there is to know about child birth and aftercare, of course)...when we arrived a number of couples were already there, sitting slightly self-conciously on one of the many sofas, filling out one of the numerous forms attached to clipboards making their way around the room (accompanied by a plastic box containing an assortment of pens) collecting contact details or choice of the (many) drinks on offer one might like at half-time...when everyone had managed to find the place, apart from the elusive "Jenny and Mark" (who were unavoidably on holiday in the West Country, from the sounds of things), the group was split up, each person selecting a different partner than the one they arrived with (not in that sort of way) and this set the scene for the rest of the evening, being mostly small group activities...the first being to introduce your new partner to the group (after talking with them for a few minutes to find out a little about them), it turned out that most people simply signed up in order to meet other people in the same boat (Urm, we're pregnant, what the hell do we do now? Sort of thing), followed by finding out if we had any idea what the NCT does (other than these classes and the aforementioned sales)...it turns out that they are actually extremely active not only in forming little groups of parents (and giving them cups of tea), but also at the highest level at the hospital, working hard to promote parents interests and watchdogging (if that is a word) to make sure that those initiatives that they suggest are followed through with...we then ran through a selection of cutaway anatomical diagrams showing just how small an amount of room for digesting food and breathing there will eventually be inside the mums to be (to a few nervous glances) and handed around actual-size-and weight models (drawing gasps of surprise from the gentlemen in the room) demonstrating exactly how much the females in the room have to moan (and hold their tummies) about...

The final section of the session was a brain storm, boys in the kitchen, girls in the living room, where we all wrote down everything we were worried about (which was an extremely useful and theraputic process), these lists are to form the basis of all our classes to come (which makes me think that these sessions are going to be a largely unique experience depending entirely on the people who come along and precisely what they are concerned about)...the most impressive thing of the whole evening (for me) though was the tutors clear, expert summary of all the different options for the actual birth (which the midwife should have taken Flyingpops through and didn't), and I think it's actually made us change our mind...rather than normal East Surrey Hospital delivery suite, Flyingpops is now quite fancying the birthing centre just across the hall (full of soft objects to lean on, pilates balls and paddling pools)...so it's already been very useful...roll on next Wednesday!

Antenatal Day Unit, East Surrey Hospital

We had a hell of a day yesterday...got up as normal, I got washed/shaved/dressed and bumbled downstairs, put on BBC Breakfast (to blip in the headlines and absorb weather and travel reports in the background), wandered into the kitchen to put some milk into the microwave ready for Flyingpops breakfast, ran the tap for some cold water for me to pop my effervescent vitamin tablet into - and then heard a pitiful cry from the stairs, I called from where I was standing asking if everything was okay and got only a pained "Fink!" in response, by the time I had reached the living room door she was in the hall, bent double and holding her bump with an expression of pain wracking her face...

We had a quick discussion about how she felt, which concluded with her deciding to try eating her breakfast and see if the pain subsided, and actually, as soon as she sat down, the pain in her middle lessened considerably, the only problem was, as soon as she finished eating and stood up to go and brush her teeth, it came right back again...

I told her we should go straight over to the hospital to get it checked out, but she wanted to call and speak to her mum (some misguided idea that the hospital staff would tell her off for being silly), but Nanjan confirmed my decision, so we picked up all our commuting stuff and headed over to the Antenatal day unit at East Surrey Hospital (which is only minutes away, thankfully)...as soon as we walked in she was popped up onto a hospital bed and surrounded by Midwives who didn't hesitate but to run a series of tests, starting with urine (normal - no infections) and measurements (using an Ikea tape measure - the Midwife actually confessed "I was in the store and spotted them and thought, those would be good for work"!) which were all okay, and then they plugged in their expensive foetal doppler and found the heartbeat right away (phew!), they asked a battery of questions which culminated in a doctor being paged...

When the doctor appeared (about half an hour later - during which time I tried in vain to stop Flyingpops reading her work emails on her blackberry and worrying about her meeting in the afternoon she didn't want to miss), she poked and prodded, asked some more questions, then ordered a range of blood tests to be carried out, telling us that everything seemed normal with the baby, but just because Flyingpops was pregnant, didn't mean that other things couldn't go wrong, more specifically the place and nature of the pain did kind of match the symptoms of appendicitis...

I took this opportunity to run outside (while the nurses tried to find a vein) and rang Flyingpops mum, so she wouldn't worry and called both of our bosses to update them as to the situation...waiting for the result of the blood tests took just over an hour, the midwives told us to go for a walk (so we went and bought some snacks from the counter by the east entrance) and by the time we got back (Flyingpops being unable to manage anything other than a slow stagger) we only had to wait about ten minutes and the doctor reappeared, said all the blood tests were clear and the pain was likely to be just temporary, she told Flyingpops to take some weak pain killers, get some rest and come back if it persisted, or in fact for anything else (they were wonderfully kind and attentive, nothing was too much trouble)...

As we went to leave (I fully intended to get into work as soon as I could) we were only a few steps out of the front door when the heavens opened - and of course there was no chance of Flyingpops speeding up...we got absolutely *soaked*...Anyway, she rested up at home for the rest of the day, I made it into work for lunchtime and this morning she's feeling absolutely fine...so totally the right thing to do - go and get it checked out - and now we know exactly where to go for this sort of help and advice...thank you East Surrey Hospital...!