By way of an explanation...

I'm lying writing this back in my bed on Ward 16, Bay 7 at Queens Hospital. And I cannot explain to you the relief I feel being back here. 

Because today was a shocking day that could have had such a different outcome. 

It was a tough week last week. The bump and I were admitted on Wednesday with further reduced movements and showing signs of exhaustion. The plan for Brussel's arrival had yet again been changed. After extensive talks with the Midwives, they got me a second opinion from another doctor. We had yet another new plan. A Doppler on Friday morning and induction on Tuesday 24th June pending all was ok on Friday. 

So off I toddled down the corridor on Friday. You hear stories of people having scans where the sonographer says nothing at all and you think "I'm sure they must have said something". I can safely say they don't say a word. Nothing. And it is the most scariest silence you will ever hear. 

The sonographer thought that she had seen an abnormality with Brussell's heart and wanted a second opinion from the consultant. 3 long hours followed where we waited (thankfully with Chris who had rushed over from work) for the consultant to arrive. She scanned us, she struggled to see, and then she referred us to Birmingham Women's Hospital for a third, and more specialised, opinion. 

The appointment was Monday. There were 3 possible options. Each of them just as frightening as the other. The words Coarctation of the Aorta where muttered.  A condition that would mean a lack of oxygenated blood to the lower half of the baby's body. A condition that would require almost immediate surgery. 

Monday arrived following the shocking nights sleep on Sunday. Chris and I set off for Birmingham not able to find the words but still speaking them in our heads. Both unsure of what the next few hours would hold or where we would spend the night. 

We were met by a Consultant in Fetal Medicine and a Consultant Cardiologist from Birmingham Children's Hospital. My own heart fell through the floor when I saw that lady. What did they know or suspect that I didn't. 

We got scanned and then we got the magic words "All Clear", "There is nothing wrong that we can see". Although some of the views were obscured due to the position of bubs, they have nothing to feel concerned about. 

They have requested that a paediatrician check Brussel straight away and that oxygen saturation is monitored closely for the first few hours but that is it. 

Our baby is healthy. The small, and I think they will be, perfect little bubba that I've been cooking for the last 9 months is going to be ok. 

Relief is not the word. Infact, I don't think there are any words that can describe the feeling to be honest. 

So, in the next couple of days, the final piece of our jigsaw will arrive. Our little family will be complete. 

I cannot thank a few people enough for the last few days. Lots of people have been supportive but some have done more than I could ever have expected. I don't need to name them, they know who they are but it honestly means the world to us all. 

Billy - a little bit of faith

Before you all read this and think I am in need of a psych referral, I can assure you that I am of sound mind and very much "with it". 

I've believed for a long time that there are people who have left this earth (or your life) who look after you and send you signs that they are doing so. I think it's called faith. It doesn't have to be in God, Allah or any other specific thing, it can be an old welly boot if you like, but it's about having the faith that someone or something is looking out for you. 

During this pregnancy, I've had a lot of sleepless nights for a variety of reasons. Partly worry with Chris, partly worry with Brussel, partly Ellie still only being 18 months old with the odd unsettled night and during these periods of insomnia, I made a friend. 

To say I made a friend sounds ridiculous, even as I write it. But I named this new acquaintance Billy. And Billy is a spider. He's not a big spider, just a small one and he lived on the ceiling of our bedroom. Whilst I was awake, with things racing around my mind, I used to watch Billy track around the ceiling and often talk to him, in my head, about the things I needed to get off my chest. He was non but at the same time, something to listen. 

When we moved our bedroom at home a couple of weeks ago, Billy took a couple of days to arrive, but he did. And he was there. He treked around the ceiling, sleeping in the same corner. 

As you all probably know by now, I'm stuck in hospital for the rest of my pregnancy. Until Brussel arrives, I am confined by a B-Number and being attached to a monitor 4 times a day. With this final hospital stay, has come yet more, and quite substantial amount of worry, which I won't go into now. And do you know what....

....Billy is here. Above my bed on Ward 16 at Queens Hospital Burton. And it looks exactly the same as the Billy who treks round at home. 

I know it probably sounds odd to a lot of you, and you are probably sat there laughing out loud at me. But do you know what, I find that little spider exceptionally comforting. Because for me, he isn't just a spider. He's someone or something that is just letting me know that someone in that great somewhere out there gives a shit and is supporting us with what we are going through. So thanks whoever or wherever you are - it really does mean quite a lot! 

Counting the kicks..

It's been a trying couple of weeks in the world of growing Russel the Brussel. Trying in many ways not least of all because of the new found worry and exhaustion that seems to have not so crept up, but arrived with the force of a small army! 

It was all going ok until last Thursday when a routine growth scan showed that our little Brussel (happily growing just underneath the 10th centile) had decided to have a rest and was now below. We saw the consultant who prescribed steroid injections and a couple of extra dopplers just in case. The steroids were administered (erm, bloody hell they sting) and we were sent home following a clear CTG (baby's heart trace).  

At Midnight on Thursday night, I felt my last, what I would describe as normal movements. I woke up in the morning having slept all night. Brussel had not woken me with her normal 3am disco routines. There was a small flicker of a movement, nothing like normal around 6am, and that was it. I was due to go to the hospital anyway so rang ahead and said I would be early. I was taken to a private room (panic button screaming loudly in my head) and was fully checked over by both a midwife and a lovely doctor who I've seen before. They decided that they wanted to keep me in for monitoring to make sure that the baby was ok. And me to a certain extent I think. So we spent the next 2 days hooked up to a monitor every 4 hours. 

What happened over the course of the next few days, still shocks me even now. The monitoring was fine. The Heartrate was good. But I still couldn't (and can't) feel baby move). Instead of being sympathetic, the midwives seemed to be getting annoyed and finding, what I consider, excuses as to why I couldn't feel the movements. (When I say can't feel - I've gone from having a good 30+ movements an hour to around about 15 a day at this point). 

"It's cos your placenta is in the way" one said. Well, it's moved a long way since yesterday when I could feel them fine. 

"It's cos your baby is small and hasn't got much energy" again, they were fine yesterday. 

"You're a bigger lady, you can't expect to feel them the same as someone smaller" again, it was all fine until yesterday. I've not suddenly put 10st on overnight. (Infact, at 35 weeks pregnant I have only put on .2kg in my whole pregnancy - that's a weight loss you fool!!!)

And so the excuses kept on coming. 

I came home and accepted that this was the new pattern. And so began the daily trips to Burton for monitoring. And then Thursday, they stopped again. I felt no movement at all, nothing, zilch, for 6 hours. We went over and again got admitted. And again got excuses. Your baby is just tired. Your baby has no energy. Movements change at this stage anyway. 

That day, I recorded 9 movements all day. Just 9. And then got shouted at for doing a crossword and not concentrating on them properly!!! 

Again, I came home and continued to go back daily with these new reduced reduced movements. 

The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG) currently advise that:

 "...if you are unsure about your baby's movements, you should lie down on your left side and concentrate on these movements for 2 hours…you should experience 10 individual sets of movements within this time" 

I put this to a midwife the other day who advised me that 10 a day was acceptable. 

I also advised I had not felt a movement for 6 hours. Her response "well, it's early yet, baby probably hasn't woken up". 

From the same RCOG guidance:

"...during both day and night, your baby had sleep periods that mostly last between 20 and 40 minutes, and are rarely longer than 90 minutes. Your baby will not move during this time..."

Not 6 hours at a time then?!!! 

Our latest growth scan has shown that Brussel has had a spurt (probably thanks to the steroids they injected me with) and lives to cook a little longer. Although the plan is still to induce me at 37 weeks due to growth and movements. However, our movements average between 6-10 a day. When I tell them this, I again get fobbed off, told some ridiculous crap about why may baby isn't moving or the latest is just speaking to me exceptionally slowly like I am deaf or stupid!! 

We have a consultant appointment on Wednesday to finalise the details of Brussel's arrival but until then, it's more worry and stress. 

As for me, I am simply exhausted. I don't mean pregnancy tired, I mean exhausted. Literally eating a bowl of cereals wipes my energy. I feel constantly dizzy and sick and the itching is horrendous (my skin is stretching don't you know)! However, there isn't long to go and our Brussel is worth it. Just don't be expecting any more baby Flash's………ever!!! 

My point of writing this, apart from the vent, was to draw attention to a charity called Count the Kicks and to highlight to anybody pregnant how important it is to know your baby's own pattern of movements. Not 10 a day, not 10 an hour. Your baby's pattern. 

Count the Kicks can be found on the web and all good social media sites. There aim is simple - to raise awareness of the importance of a babies movements in the womb to help try and prevent the hideousness that is stillbirth. They have a recycling programme to raise funds to get this information out. Check them out and please help if you can. You don't even need to send money. They will be happy with stamps, wipe packets and even milk bottle tops!!