Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it

Whilst mulling over the general breakdown of my body at about 4am while I struggled to get comfy, I was reminded of something a friend told me in my pre-pregnancy days during an oddly philosophical debate about why society seems to think all women want to have children. We were in a boat at the time, and her comment was "what is so special about getting pregnant? Any dumb animal can do it".

She was, of course, entirely correct. In fact, most dumb animals are an awfully lot better designed to do this that we are. Our very design, as bipeds, means that rather than sensibly distributing the extra weight across four legs and the whole length of the spine, we end up with about 30 kgs of additional weight bearing down on our lower back, pelvis and leg joints.

Our labour also takes ages, is painful, and you end up with an entirely dependent blob at the end of it. I have often thought that marsupials have the edge in this respect. How lovely it would have been for Bump to have quietly and discretely crawled out a few months ago and set up residence in my Prada handbag for the remainder of the gestation while I went about my normal business.

If we are looking at convenience then anything that lays eggs really takes the prize. The production of a nice spherical object (none of those bumps and lumps making it difficult to get out) and then sitting on your bottom waiting for it to grow while your husband brings you food.

Of course if we are really looking for the ultimate in parenting ease then fish have it sorted out perfectly. Lay thousands of eggs thereby maximising the likelihood of some being healthy and making it to adulthood (none of this investing 9 months in one offspring), find a helpful male to spray over them before bidding him goodbye (no embarrassing morning after the night before moments), and then swim off into the sunset to enjoy a nice reef somewhere.

While the human approach has its merits, although I can't think of any right now, I can’t help but feel that evolution did well for almost everything else in the animal kingdom while dealing the human race a very unfair hand.

C-ing is believing

Another post on the c-section debate I'm afraid. Having made the choice, a number of times, and now had it largely taken out of my hands, I find myself taking on the role of interested observer in the whole issue. On Thursday and Friday this week I did a lot of observing.

On Thursday night I found myself sitting in a pub with T, a lovely British guy I work with, drinking hot chocolate (me) and lager (him). He has an older daughter and, in amongst other topics of conversation such as the dire state of the England football team, we got chatting about the obvious Bump with us at the table. He was telling me about a girl he works with who, in month 7, was given all sorts of reasons by her obs about why she couldn't have a natural birth (baby is too big, hips too small blah blah). Being a savvy lass, she questioned all of them, and in the end her obs simply said that unless she was willing to have a c-section he would no longer treat her and she should find another doctor! A similar thing happened to another friend, P. She ended up with my obs and having a natural, and pretty trouble free, birth.

It seems that in HK almost every obs will ask you to have a c-section. I can't help feeling this is largely driven by money (they make more money on a c-section) and convenience for the doctor. Whatever happened to the right to choose?

What is annoying me even more is that women do seem to be listening to their doctors and most of the people I know who are pregnant are opting for a c-section without necessarily doing anything more than listening to a few friends and their doctor - who seems to be biased. For various reasons I ended up on Friday talking to 4 other pregnant women at different points about this, and all were going to opt for a c-section. I have no problem with their decision, but when I asked them why only one was doing it for medical reasons (the birth of her first child had been so traumatic that she wanted more control this time), the others variously said it would be more convenient, their doctor had recommended it (although for no medical reason), or because they thought natural childbirth would be harder. One even said she hated the idea of being cut or stitched "down below", whereas major abdominal surgery seemed perfectly acceptable to her.

Not one seemed to have actually looked into what is physically involved in the surgery and was taking the advice of their doctor. The fact that it is really rather tough and for every one woman who "heals" quickly and is running marathons within a week, there are many more who have problems with bleeding, infections and pain seemed not to be known to them. It makes it a lot harder to feed the baby too (baby + scar = pain).

As mentioned before, there is no pleasant way of getting Bump out, but I can't help feeling that the medical profession are doing us women all a disservice by not giving us the information and advice to make our own choices and respecting the choices we make - whatever they may be.

Rant over.

Picture perfect

The Boy decided to buy a video camera last weekend. After winding me up about buying a bed-level tripod for the birth, I feel it only appropriate to lay down some ground rules regarding video and photo evidence of the new Mum:

1. No pictures during the birth, I will look awful and feel compelled to break the camera, or the husband, or both should any attempt be made to photograph me

2. After the birth photos of me will only be taken once I am wearing make up, have washed my hair and preferably after a facial. You can take as many of the wrinkly, cone headed new baby as you like, but none involving me

3. I will only have my photo taken once wearing the very comfy, and indulgent Elle Macpherson PJs I bought myself at the weekend. They are stylish and expensive

4. Photos of me and baby will involve gentle cradling and adoring looks. Not any where she is screaming and bright red and I look ready to kill someone as a result.

5. There will be no, I repeat, no photos of baby at the breast feeding. It is bad enough that I will feel like a cow, without me having a photographic reminder

And, finally, in the spirit of all top celebs, I will have final approval on any photos taken and have the right to delete any I am in that I don't like.

Decisions, decisions

I've never been very good at actually making decisions. I am one of those people who potter through life seeming to be in the right place at the right time and things generally work out fine. I've only ever had one proper job interview (for my current job), and even then the job spec could have been written to be my ideal client-side job so there wasn't much of a decision to be made.

However, I have found that during my pregnancy not only does one have to make decisions but that, just when you think you have finally made one, you talk to someone or read something or circumstances change such that the decision you had been so certain of yesterday does a 180 degree turn and you now, quite passionately, believe in the opposite.

I found I have made two complete changes in the last couple of days, and am rather surprised at myself for it.

The first is on the birth itself. Having swung from wanting a c-section to finding the whole idea horrible, I am now back to the idea of a c-section again. This has mostly to do with the fact that I am a bit of a control freak, and as my blood pressure creeps ever higher, the chance I will have one increases as well and so I would rather decide to have one now than have uncertainty for the next few weeks. However, it also has to do with dogged pragmatism. Even if I end up in natural labour, the pesky blood pressure means that at the first sign of stress on my system I will have a c-section anyway. Now, I am fundamentally a lazy creature and the idea of spending a few hours panting, pushing and generally putting in a lot of effort only to have to be cut open anyway rather seems to me like a wasted effort. A bit like spending 40 minutes on the rowing machine when you aren't training for a race. It's just a bit pointless. So, I am back to thinking that if the balance is that I will end up having a c-section anyway, I'd rather just make the decision and get on with it.

The other is on breast feeding, where I have been resolute the whole way through that there is no way that I will breast feed. This is a hugely emotional topic, on which everyone has an opinion. My opinion has nothing to do with any feminist desire to reclaim my own body but rather that it seems, well, all a bit icky and ever since my sister told me about bleeding nipples I have decided that there are some things that one just shouldn't bother with. However, in the past couple of days I've found myself thinking that it might not be too hideous. I think as the Bump gets bigger and becomes more of a person, the idea of her and what she needs (rather than her being a mild inconvenience who kicks me a lot) is becoming more and more important to me, perhaps even (shock horror) surpassing my own dislike of personal discomfort. I'm still not entirely sure whether I want to become a dairy cow - and the pics in a book the Boy bought of a woman pumping her own breasts were so disturbing as to make me need a little lie down - but I can at least now see that it might be worth a try.

It also rather suits me that, often, women can't breast feed for a whole host of reasons so it would actually fit in quite nicely with my overall ethos not to make decisions. Give it a go and if it is fine then do it and if it isn't then don't. Ah, I seem to have managed to turn this into another decision I don't actually need to make. Phew.

A night at the theatre

Now that I know there is a high likelihood that I will end up having a c-section I have started to do a bit more about finding out about what is involved other than just saying "ouch" a lot. It is not a pleasant experience, but neither would a normal birth be so it really is a case of it being pretty miserable either way. I am also so worried about my health now (Bump will be fine, the doc gets her out at the first sign of trouble, it is her large incubator who is the one at risk now) that the option of just getting her out as soon as she would be able to survive safely seems rather appealing.

So I found myself this lunchtime on a very good, British, baby website that has been very helpful throughout when I have had a quick question or worry at work and need some perspective. However, when looking at its description of a c-section I did start to wonder who wrote it.

"A screen will be put up while the procedure is taking place. Some partners like to peek over the screen but others prefer not to see what is happening. You may like your doctor to tell you what he is doing, so that you know the minute your baby is born. Many parents like to have music playing in the theatre as well."

This makes it sound like we are going for a night at the opera rather than major surgery. Although I do remember once seeing a dreadful rendition of Wagner and it was a very painful and traumatic experience.

To C or not to C, that is the question

One of the biggest questions a soon-to-be Mum has to face are those surrounding the birth. There are a million ways in which you can choose to have your child, especially in HK where you get what you pay for, and a similar number of books, articles and people happy to offer advice about what to do. The options start with where to give birth (although in HK it is pretty much illegal anywhere but a hospital so this choice is removed anyway), and then move through drugs, intervention, water (drinking and sitting in), to whale music and hypo-birthing.

Yesterday the Boy and I went to see Dr D to discuss what would happen at mine. This is something I have been thinking about a lot because the options are so numerous. The biggest one is whether to go for an elective C-section or the natural birth. There are pros and cons of both, so the choice has been especially hard for me to make and I have spent pretty much equal amounts of time subscribing to both viewpoints.

On the pro side is the ease and timing argument. When the Boy only gets 2 days paternity leave and we don’t have the support of family nearby, the whole idea of being able to plan for things appeals to the professional career girl in me. It also means that all the stuff "below" doesn't get too icky afterwards, and it is arguably safer and less stressful for the baby. However the cons involve six weeks of recovery after major abdominal surgery (although Posh Spice et al have pretended otherwise, it is pretty major surgery), and in a town where I only get 15 weeks of maternity leave taking six weeks to be in pain and not be able to lift my baby, nor be able to start rowing and jogging again to get back in shape, doesn't appeal.

I don’t really care about the whole "participating in the experience" side of things. I am much of the view that we have modern medicine so we don't have to go through the unpleasantness of the Dark Ages anymore. However, although the natural birth thing will be exhausting, painful, very icky, and more risky, on balance I think probably better suited to me and so, after much discussion with friends who have been through it and some reading, I decided that a natural birth with as many drugs as humanly possible would be my preferred option.

This is not a decision I have made lightly or easily. However, yesterday I got a bit of a shock that threw this all out of the window.

My blood pressure is rising again. All women's blood pressure rises near the end of pregnancy, I am after all putting a huge strain on my system at the moment. However, mine is rising more than Doc D would like and as both my Mum and I have a history of high blood pressure, it is something he wants to watch carefully from now on.

With modern science and close monitoring it is nothing to be worried about, but it does put me at a greater likelihood of having to have a c-section - either to get Bump out early or during the natural labour because high blood pressure does rather complicate things.

So, I find myself today feeling a bit miffed. Having spent all that time and effort planning for the type of birth I wanted, convincing myself it wouldn't be so bad to dilate to 10cms (ouch) and have all manner of nasty things "down below", I am now back where I was about 5 months ago with not really having any decision made and no way of making it.

As Dr D told me pretty much in my first ante-natal appointment, there is not much point having a birthing plan because everything always changes anyway.

Aunty again

My sister had her second child yesterday, so I am now an Aunty again. I sat in bed last night feeling fat, tired and miserable (bad day at work and the Boy is away) and gave her a call.

She sounded sickeningly calm and happy. She had a c-section (for medical reasons rather than because she is too posh to push - although she is of course!), and seemed to be perky, rested, and generally quite pragmatic about the whole thing.

I, on the other hand, will be a blithering mess crying in pain and demanding champagne.

We're not very alike me and my sis.