Category Archives: health
A happy coincidence for the midwife and me!
The New Victoria hospital - but an old connection
Of the five community midwives in the Pink Team, I’ve seen Lesley most frequently. She exudes authority but she’s also friendly and I’ve always felt like she really listens. When I told her on Monday that I’d had an off week she agreed it was unlike me and asked me to come back today. After my examination she said I was close but she’d like to see me again on Monday. I was disappointed, but as I dressed behind the curtain I told her my Dad was working in Sicily until Sunday and didn’t want to become a grandfather in the land of the godfather. She laughed and we chatted about the work he was doing out there.
“Wait, what’s his name?”
I zipped up my boots and told her. There was a beat and then the curtain was ripped back.
“You’re not going to believe this!” she cried.
“You didn’t deliver me!” I teased her, knowing full well she was too young.
“No, I delivered your sister!”
I gaped.
“I remember it so clearly – your dad was sitting there in his leather jacket, reading the Herald. And your mum gave me a present afterwards. Clarins. We never get presents! How old is your sister now?”
“19!” I told her. “I can’t believe that coincidence!”
“Wait, do you have another sister?”
“Yes, Laura’s 25…”
“My best friend Noreen delivered her! Do you mind if l I tell her? This is amazing, you know, I’ve not had a good morning – there are things I have to do as a manager that I don’t like doing, and there’s more happening this afternoon, but this has made my day! Please tell your mum I was asking for her!”
We chatted away as we walked back to the reception – my sisters and I were all born at Rutherglen Maternity hospital which has since been knocked down. It seemed amazing to me that of all the midwives in all the city, she should be the one looking after me the most.
I see coincidences like this as sign posts that I’m on the right path – I’m more convinced than ever that I’ll have a good labour!
‘Mum-to-be’ massage bliss
The amazing rounded hotel *not real shape!*
There’s a secret, subterranean oasis in Glasgow that is a complete contrast to the bustling, traffic-choked city – and my sister and I spent a blissful afternoon there yesterday.
From the moment I climbed the stairs to The Blythswood, passed through the opulent lobby and descended in the lift to the fragrant, dimly-lit hallway to the spa, I relaxed.
LJ joked that we should whisper and tiptoe as we made our way to the reception… We tried not to laugh as a whispering, tiptoeing receptionist led us down to the wood-panelled changing room and passed us our gowns and bottles of Strathmore.
The jets - and Paolo - were waiting
We crept out into the hydrospa, peering through frosted glass doors at the variations on ‘steam room’ and ‘sauna’ (at least I think that’s what a tepidarium is) and bypassing the bath full of seaweed in favour of the lovely hot pool.
The jets worked wonders on my shoulders (and soaked my sister who was trying to keep her hair dry) and when we swam through into the funny wee cave we found we were joined by a familiar face.
“That was Paolo Nutini!” LJ hissed and our giggles echoed round the chamber. She swears he winked at her as we climbed out and headed for the enormous jacuzzi.
Only a quick dip in this gorgeous jacuzzi
I could have sat there all day as the LED lights played a rainbow around us, but I know it’s not good for the baby. Besides, it was time for our treatments.
We were collected from the relaxation room by two floating therapists and led along the candlelit corridor to our treatment rooms.
Candlelit and inviting
As she massaged my feet with a fragrant black herb, my therapist explained she would lie me on one side for the first part and turn me onto my back afterwards. If I was ever uncomfortable I was to let her know and was I happy for her to work a little on my belly? Normally I wouldn’t have liked that, but she exuded such serenity that I trusted her and nodded.
There followed the most blissfully relaxing 90 minutes that I actually slipped into sleep! She worked on my back, legs, arms and the top of my belly, leaving a warm poltice in each area and covering me with warm towels. I had added a 30minute facial to the treatment, and the cool potions felt wonderful. When she eventually whispered that she had finished and would fetch me some water, it took me a few seconds to come to. I gratefully sipped the ice cold water (my mouth was very dry) and savoured the moment – until the baby shifted painfully and I had to stand up!
Where I lay and drifted away...
Luckily there was the halfway house of the relaxation room, where I could drink peppermint tea, lie back on an electrically-reclining bed and flick through magazines waiting for LJ.
She emerged looking as dazed as I probably did, breathing “That was amazing” and describing her body scrub and full body massage.
As we regretfully ascended to reality and walked down Bath St towards the carpark we decided to go without something at £40 each month so that we could visit every eight weeks. It’s a small price to pay for feeding your soul for an afternoon.
All pics from http://www.townhousecompany.com/blythswoodsquare/
*not a sponsored post*
First antenatal class
Both Rod and I had been working late, so when we raced into the hospital just in time for the 7.30 start of our first antenatal class we weren’t exactly “in the zone”. Plus I’d cooked sausages while sending my last emails and was suddenly aware that I smelled like a burger van.
We had no idea what to expect. We sat meekly alongside 12 or so other couples and stared at the diagram of a non-pregnant human body – so that’s what I used to look like.
The midwife grinned at us, introduced herself and suggested we all do the same. Everyone was married, everyone was having their first baby and everyone was due within a month of each other… I instantly felt like we belonged. Two husbands were missing due to car trouble (a loose handbrake and a flat tire) so when it came to us I joked that Rod was in the car game if anyone needed a hand. One of the women was having twins (so that’s why my belly seemed so small!) and the lady on my right shared my due date, so all in all I’d say the ice was broken pretty quickly.
The first class focused on our bodies and our pain relief options. The diagram we’d been staring at was flipped to show a pregnant body… Jeez, where did my intestines go? “This is why you’re all probably guzzling Gaviscon” the midwife joked and there were several nods and smiles round the room. And that wee black blob right under the baby’s head is my bladder? “Yup, that’s why you’re in the loo constantly!” It’s always nice to be reassured that your symptoms are totally normal.
When it came to birth plans I was the only one who raised my hand when she asked about water births. She was really supportive and explained exactly how it would work, including the fact I could effectively deliver my own baby by grasping him/her under the arms and pulling him/her to the surface. I loved this idea! She said that Rod could even be in there with me – “Great! I’ll bring my mask and snorkel!” he piped up. Everyone laughed but then there were a few murmurs and I wondered if some other mums were beginning to consider the idea.
At the end of the class we were offered additional breast-feeding and physio classes so I signed up for both. A few others did too, so I’m looking forward to getting to know them. Isn’t the NHS a wonderful thing?
In praise of the bathtub
I hope this is what's waiting when I die
When it comes to life’s little disappointments, a tepid bath is up there with soggy chips and films whose trailers steal the best scenes.
A roasting hot, bubbly, candlelit bath, with chilled out tunes playing in the background – now that is my idea of heaven. That moment of leaning back in the only-just-bearable heat, resting my head on the rim and closing my eyes as I exhale every last bubble of air in my lungs – it’s magical! There is no other way to relax as instantly and completely.
Now that I’m 31 weeks pregnant, I’m appreciating this zen-like experience on a whole new level. I felt actual joy the first time I realised that the upside of having the heating on almost constantly was instant baths. Usually I’d have to decide an hour in advance when I wanted to soak so that there’d be enough hot water in the tank. One of my friends bought me The Sanctuary’s Mum-To-Be range for Christmas, which includes bath salts, so I have been generously sprinkling them and indulging in a bath nearly every night. It’s actually getting to the stage where I look forward to seeing my tub more than my husband at the end of a day’s work!
The funny thing is, now that I’ve fully appreciated how much this small experience enhances my life, I’m completely reconsidering my view of a water birth. My sister-in-law has done it twice and swears by it, while I’ve always shied away from the mere thought. All that gunk floating in there with you? But if the key to a good labour is remaining calm and breathing deeply – well, I’ve just argued that very point.
I’d be very interested to know if anyone’s had a water birth and if it is, in fact, just as soothing as a bubblebath?
Sick
Swimming in the reefs made me feel much better!
I’ve been told that the main reason you’re advised to avoid shellfish/blue cheese/paté when you’re pregnant is to reduce the risk of food poisoning.
If this is true, I’m wondering why my husband and I thought a holiday in Egypt was a good idea. I’ve yet to meet someone who’s visited this fascinating country without the post script that they spent half the time in the toilet.
We went to Sharm El Sheikh, to a five star hotel and believed the travel agent when she said I’d be absolutely fine. I was not.
We arrived in the early evening and enjoyed a fabulous meal. We got up early and lay for a blissful day on the beach, returning for lunch and carefully washing our hands, avoiding the peeled fruit and insisting on no ice in our drinks. After dinner I felt like I had indigestion (nothing unusual) but we went to bed relaxed and happy.
At 1am I had to bolt to the bathroom. I think I was a child the last time I was that violently ill.
All day I lay in bed feeling enormous sympathy for the Haitians affected by the cholera epidemic. I drank dioralyte and as much water as I could, worried all the time that I was dehydrated and making my poor wee baby suffer. After 24 hours of crippling cramps, I was absolutely delighted to feel the familiar nudge of the wee one – as if it was saying, “It’s OK mummy, I’m fine and you will be too!”
I called my GP friend, who reassured me junior was cosy in his/her amniotic sac and probably completely unaware. She did remind me to drink lots of water and canned fizzy drinks (to replace sugars) and to stick to rice, pasta, chicken and other easily digestible foods.
Unfortunately Rod got the bug too, so we decided to play it safe and call the doctor. He checked our blood pressure and temperatures, which were fine, and prescribed three sets of pills for Rod and just the one set for me, as my pregnancy meant I couldn’t have the antibiotics. They seemed to do the trick.
We didn’t let it ruin our holiday. In fact, it was maybe nature’s (admittedly extreme) way of telling us to slow down, sleep lots, drink tonnes of water and, in Rod’s case, lay off the booze. It’s the only holiday we’ve ever had where we’ve come back lighter!
It’s also made me realise how important my personal health is during this pregancy. I’ve started taking multivitamins, I’m swimming regularly and I’m trying to remind myself that it’s OK to just sit. I have to say I’m feeling great now – long may it continue!
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