The expert - part 3

I know some people think I'm too open in some of my blog posts.  If you're of this opinion then it's probably wise that you come back in a few days time when there'll be some fun photos posted about Uncle Seth and Aunt Alissa's visit to see Adain, London and Norway.

The rest of you carry on.

We went back to see Louise the Lactation Lady today for our 3rd session in three days. We saw progress in Aidan's finger feeding last night but as exhaustion is setting for Erin and I we decided, before we went in, if he had dropped weight from his Wednesday weigh-in we'd definitely settle for the bottle.  We're not exactly sure how much of the food he takes in, he dribbles a lot and often spits up.  I thought, and quietly hoped, he'd dropped weight so we could get on with a consistent feed.

He'd put on 80 grams.  A good amount in three days.  I looked at Erin and knew we were going for another push at this.

In the next few minutes a strategy was developed but it only led to crying and screaming from the little fella and desperation from me.  Erin looked beaten too.

Louise was persistently taking Aidan on but I decided to confront her about the issue of 'breast being best' which we always hear.  I said that we'd had enough of this, that I was really worried about the well being of both Erin and Aidan, and that surely formula would be all right? She was calm in her response and gave us her arguments.  The ones below are the ones I heard:

• Breast feeding provides nutrients and immunity which formula can't.  
• The government is investing millions in this message because those who breast feed are less of a drain to the resources of the NHS
• It stimulates intelligence.
  

She spoke for around 5 minutes with a calm passion which showed she wasn't going to give up on us.  But I had to have one more go.  I started with the intelligence issue suggesting that if he took formula he might not be getting what mother's milk provides but he would still be getting the care and attention from us two, being constantly spoken to and read to and nurtured.  I even mentioned that he'd been given a little show from his teddy bears in the morning before we left to see her. 

To me the intelligence issue is a non starter and so are the government lines, so I ignored them. I told her what really concerns me is that when I go back to work Erin will be home alone dealing with a baby that potentially won't feed or cries when doing so.  I don't want that to have a damaging impact on mother and baby's relationship, and mother's sanity. 

Louise took a moment to think about this and then asked us to see what we thought about her plan to continue finger feeding over the weekend, use a few approach techniques and for Erin to go back and see her on Monday.  She said that Aidan had made great progress, and if he hadn't, she would have given up there and then.  She also said, as he's gained weight this week, we didn't have to wake him every three hours at night.

We were given added faith when Louise called at the end of her shift to ask Erin to bring a bottle teat with her to Monday's session.  She said she'd been giving us extra thought and wants to try use the teat to trick him. (I suppose if we were in the US we would be paying a pretty penny for this type of service).

We're going to follow the plan.  But I do feel that it's a shame we're having to focus on this. Aidan is currently opening up his big blue eyes more than ever, he's enjoying meeting his new teddy bears, a monkey and rubber ducks. And he gives us the largest belches I've ever heard. When we're not worried about him he does make us giggle.

A visit to the doctor

Things are never easy when visiting our NHS clinic. Erin and I were greeted by a very friendly doctor saying: 'So what seems to be the matter today?'

When Erin told him 'nothing' and that we were booked in for our pre-natal check-up with him he looked bemused and told us that he doesn't do that. He said he did post-natal but nothing before the birth.

We haven't seen our personal midwife, only temporary ones as ours has always been off. This mix up seems to have come from the temp, who not knowing our clinic, booked us in with the doctor who Erin last saw. Unfortunatley it doesn't work like this.

Anyway, Dr Castro - no relation - said he could take Erin's blood pressure and check what needed to be checked and would tell the doctor we should have seen the results 'to make sure he got everything right'.

So he did.

Erin's blood pressure is normal, the baby seems to be growing correctly - 25.2 cm for a 25 week pregnancy is normal, and we heard the traction engine heartbeat of the little one - 145 beats per minute. I shut my eyes and could imagine him stretching and kicking and generally showing off as he knew he was in the spotlight.

Erin's had a cold recently so we asked what she could take for it. The doctor was adamant she should only take paracetemol or herbal remedies. No strepsils or Hall's I'm afraid.

As she has had a bit (well, alot) of heartburn, Erin asked if the amount of Gaviscon she's taking is healthy. It is.

And she asked if she could fly in the next few weeks as she might need to take a trip home. He said the airline might need a letter but that letter would be easy to write as she's in perfect health.

At the end I went back to the heartburn issue. We've been told that as Erin has heartburn it's an indicator of the baby having either a lot of hair or red hair. I asked if he'd heard of this. He laughed: 'No I've never heard of this.' He went on to explain what heartburn was and ended by giggling 'come back and tell me if it is true, though'.

Elevating hearts - the first scan

We set off to the hospital for the 12 week scan with around 3/4 hour to spare. We decided to go by bus rather than bike as it was threatening to rain. Two buses came which weren't ours, then the 77 arrived but looked very full. We squeezed on and then the bus squeezed it's way through the traffic to St Thomas' Hospital, very slowly.

Surprisingly we made it with a few minutes to spare. All we had to do was to get to the North Wing and to floor 8. It wasn't difficult to find, and neither were the elevators where we waited for one to come.

But this was a bit of a rigmarole.

There were 7 elevators but they were either going the wrong way, full, or had flashing signs saying Emergency Use Only, Out of Order, or - unnervingly - Crash Test to Follow. After 10 minutes, a few curses of the NHS, and a shove here and there we managed to get one. All we then had to do was manually shove the doors closed - in the 21st century? - and off we were, stopping at every floor before we got to the 8th.

I had suggested the stairs, twice, but Erin played the pregnancy card and claimed she was suddenly tired.

I guess waiting rooms are named this for a reason. We went to reception, were told to sit down and, along with a three other couples, and two women on their own, we sat down and, er, waited.

Eventually we were called and the fun began.

I was really nervous that there would be something wrong with the baby, something wrong with Erin, or all we would see on the scan would be Erin's breakfast. But apart from a constant niggle in the back of my mind about the Nuchal Fold test these worries soon went away.

The nurse put us both at ease and spoke to us as if we'd known her for a while. She covered Erin's belly in gel and told us look at the screen. At first it was a slimy blur but then something appeared which was truly amazing. The first thing that struck me was seeing the outline of a head shape. He* appeared to turn to us and look straight at us. It was unbelievable. There was also something which was bouncing in the middle of the screen. Of course it was the heart, but it didn't sink in for ages because of the speed and apparent out of body experience it seemed to, literally, be having.

The nurse showed us several different angles of him - from the top of the head, the back, the front, the spine, so the legs were the focus, and the arms - luckily two of each - but in every frame there was always this bouncing 158 beat per second ball of a heart fluttering away. Erin and I both said we could have watched it all day.

The baby was great. He performed as any parent would wish, crossing legs, stretching, turning around, turning his head towards us, touching his face, seemingly preening himself and generally having a jolly good show off. Good for him.

We have three scanned photos but they really don't do our baby justice.

The nurse told us the results of the Nuchal Fold test were very low risk and added that we currently have a very healthy baby.

I couldn't stop smiling all day.

When Erin and I left the hospital and crossed the road, she told me that I shouldn't rush her as she is now crossing for two. She then linked my arm and said that now she really feels pregnant.

Me too.

* I simply couldn't call him or her and with all the humanity s/he was showing I chose he as it was easier to write - only two letters.