Yesterday afternoon Paul and I went for a walk. I’ve started walking a lot more now that running is such a pelvis-punisher. Everybody keeps telling us to make sure we spend as much time together talking about non-baby things before little-Lacey changes all of that. We walked through the fields behind our wee house and talked a lot about our impending hospital visit.
I get a lot of blog posts come up on my (many) pregnancy apps about the fear of giving birth, and our NCT classes to date have been very labour-focussed, with a big emphasis on battling labour anxiety. In this department I think my transplant has given me a whopping advantage. To me, hospitals are the most magical places, full of caring and kind people who won’t let me die, however hard my body is trying to. I don’t want to write a birth plan or bring electric candles for the window sills, I don’t want my own music. I want the amazing people who have seen this a hundred times to tell me what to do, I want bright lights so nothing gets missed and I want to hear machines with their reassuring beeps.
If something is going to go wrong, it’s going to happen whether I worry about it or not, so I’m not worrying about having this baby one bit. I completely trust my wonderful consultant (who even said ‘shit’ in my last appointment and there’s nothing to warm me to a doctor like a bit of swearing). I trust Cardiff Hospital, it was them that realised I needed specialist help for my liver and got me a bed in the Royal Free Hospital, London, and an ambulance to take me to it. And my good Lord I trust my husband (or ‘birth partner’ as he shall now be known!!) to keep en eye on everything and make sure me and the baby sail through it.
I appreciate I might sound a little naive, and about that I have absolutely no argument - I am! I’ve really no idea what’s in store for me when it comes to the big push, I think I’m good with pain but I have no basis for that other than thinking I’m well-hard! Haha. But I hope I’m fairly sensible, if something doesn’t seem right I would question it. But going into this with a positive attitude and a good dose of excitement rather than apprehension, will, I hope anyway, get me off to a good start - fingers crossed.
So far my pregnancy has been just perfect. I honestly can’t believe how my precious liver has taken on this challenge with such ease. I technically have less than six weeks to go but in about two weeks time, when I’ll be 37 weeks and therefore full term, my lovely docs will have a good look at how my liver’s really holding up and if there’s even a whiff of it getting a strop on they’ll look to induce and get things moving. How can I be worried when I’ve got a team looking after me, my baby, and my liver with such cleverness and care!
I wrote this post after watching a video on how Brexit will destroy the NHS and that did worry me. Writing this has helped my blood pressure drop back down - thank you so much for reading it :)