I have written and deleted different approaches to this post a few times now. It seems so special to be writing about my baby boy's birthday, I don't want to stuff it up ;) I want everyone to know how loved this little boy is, and how unique he is and always has been.
From the very beginning, #4 was going to be different. Peter and I were finally married, and thanks to the hospital policy of giving a baby the same surname as the mother, this would be my first 'A*****' baby. I realise that this will probably sound stupid to most people, considering so many children are born out of wedlock, but it was something I regretted for each of my other births (Luella's blue book has a big 'H******' written in permanent marker on the front). Even though we'd been together for what felt like 50 years, finally it seemed okay (once married) to admit that this baby was planned. #4 would also have the biggest age gap, 23 months, stretching into the socially acceptable range ;)
Then at my 12 week tests, we were given some odd PAPP-A results that nobody ever went to any trouble to explain, and led me on the dangerous path of Dr Google-ing. I had to have another lot of bloods taken, but there wasn't much difference in the two lots of strange results. Just one of those things I guess, but I spent the next 8 weeks wondering if the half-way scan would reveal a non-functioning placenta or disability.
So the 20 week scan came, and while nothing unusual was found, for the first time I had a low lieing placenta, and it was posterior! All 3 other pregnancies had had anterior placentas (again, I realise this must be riveting information for anyone reading this, but it's all part of our journey to Curtis). I remember lieing there, repeating to myself 'please be a boy, please be a boy, please be a boy' (logistic reasons mainly) but seeing nothing that would indicate boy (and I had seen a lot of ultrasound pics since my first pregnancy!). I thought I even saw a telling hamburger, and when the technician spoke and said 'I can't be sure, but I think it's a...' I was almost certain she would say 'girl'. When she said BOY, then I wanted to know for certain and asked if it would help if I went to the toilet or changed position or anything! I needed to know! I went to the toilet, and when I came back, so did Curtis ;) and we were pretty satisfied with his boyness then.
Fast forward until today, 1 year ago. I was booked in for induction, following an appt on Peter's birthday (the 9th). I was told to call in the morning, just to make sure there was a labour room available, but I just assumed this was a formality. I never imagined I would be told not to come in that day! I couldn't help myself, I cried. I cried to the lady on the phone. I was so upset to have this huge anti-climax, not to mention ready to meet my baby boy.
I'm going to have to continue this later, I have cakes to make and presents to wrap.
From the very beginning, #4 was going to be different. Peter and I were finally married, and thanks to the hospital policy of giving a baby the same surname as the mother, this would be my first 'A*****' baby. I realise that this will probably sound stupid to most people, considering so many children are born out of wedlock, but it was something I regretted for each of my other births (Luella's blue book has a big 'H******' written in permanent marker on the front). Even though we'd been together for what felt like 50 years, finally it seemed okay (once married) to admit that this baby was planned. #4 would also have the biggest age gap, 23 months, stretching into the socially acceptable range ;)
Then at my 12 week tests, we were given some odd PAPP-A results that nobody ever went to any trouble to explain, and led me on the dangerous path of Dr Google-ing. I had to have another lot of bloods taken, but there wasn't much difference in the two lots of strange results. Just one of those things I guess, but I spent the next 8 weeks wondering if the half-way scan would reveal a non-functioning placenta or disability.
So the 20 week scan came, and while nothing unusual was found, for the first time I had a low lieing placenta, and it was posterior! All 3 other pregnancies had had anterior placentas (again, I realise this must be riveting information for anyone reading this, but it's all part of our journey to Curtis). I remember lieing there, repeating to myself 'please be a boy, please be a boy, please be a boy' (logistic reasons mainly) but seeing nothing that would indicate boy (and I had seen a lot of ultrasound pics since my first pregnancy!). I thought I even saw a telling hamburger, and when the technician spoke and said 'I can't be sure, but I think it's a...' I was almost certain she would say 'girl'. When she said BOY, then I wanted to know for certain and asked if it would help if I went to the toilet or changed position or anything! I needed to know! I went to the toilet, and when I came back, so did Curtis ;) and we were pretty satisfied with his boyness then.
Fast forward until today, 1 year ago. I was booked in for induction, following an appt on Peter's birthday (the 9th). I was told to call in the morning, just to make sure there was a labour room available, but I just assumed this was a formality. I never imagined I would be told not to come in that day! I couldn't help myself, I cried. I cried to the lady on the phone. I was so upset to have this huge anti-climax, not to mention ready to meet my baby boy.
I'm going to have to continue this later, I have cakes to make and presents to wrap.
No comments:
Post a Comment