2nd scan - a guided tour

On Friday Erin and I went for our second scan. We set off early to avoid any elevator worries and got to the 8th floor with plenty to time to wait around and watch the room's tiny television in the corner which contained laser-focussed baby adverts, baby advice and one random fact.

Among the ads for Bjorn Baby carriers, Tomy Toys and Bugaboo prams we were told by some government-parental-advice-giving-body about breast feeding and diaper changing.  And the advice to dads? Not to worry too much, help around the house and give the mum-to-be as many massages as she requires.  I Will do - but I do think that was written by a woman who had just been pregnant whose husband had worried too much, hadn't helped out enough and needed a nudge in the direction to give massages.

After a while, as there was a nurse off sick, we were taken into our scan-room by our nurse, Helen.  She sat us down, chatted nicely to us, then squirted gooey stuff all over Erin’s belly.

Once the scanner got through the gooey stuff the little life inside Erin started performing on screen for us. Second scans are quite different to the first as the baby is now too big to be on screen all at once.  So, we were given a guided tour around the baby's body. We were first shown the spine where we could see each individual vertebrae, then onto the kidneys, the heart, and the head. The head had two little bumps on it. This would have been worrying if the nurse hadn't said, ‘Oh look it’s got its hands over its eyes.’

Must be shy.

Not too shy however, as it showed us everything we needed to see, which was unlike the other babies who the nurse had seen that day. But shy enough to have its legs crossed so even if we did want to know if it was a boy or girl - which we didn’t and don't - it would have been a struggle to find out.

After we’d looked at the arms then came the legs and feet.  The legs were measured then the nurse manoeuvred the scan so two little feet were revealed. It was as if they were poking out of a blanket.

At the last scan the heartbeat was the highlight for me, this time it was the feet. That and the fact that we learned that polar bears are left handed - and you thought I'd forgotten the random fact.

2nd midwife visit - a spectator sport

Today we went to see the midwife for the second time.   

We were brought in by lets-call-her Nicola who's the second substitute midwife we've seen out of two substitute midwives.  She was very nice and asked Erin how she was and caught up with the pregnancy with a few questions as well as studying Erin's records book.  She then took Erin through her blood test results which all look normal, negative or healthy - this is normal, positive and healthy.

I just smiled and nodded. It really did feel like a spectator sport.  I felt a little out of sorts in the midwife's room as, even though I'm quite an active researcher on pregnancy, try to be a hands on dad-to-be, and the midwife was professional and friendly,  it all seemed nothing to do with me.  I was a spare part.  A simple smiler and nodder.  I'm not complaining.  Erin is the one doing all the hard work.  But have any other dads-to-be reading this felt this way?

Erin's record book was filled in with the blood test results and then it was time for her to hop on the bed and get measured.  A lot of people have commented how Erin is hardly showing and that was a bit of a concern of ours before we went into the clinic.  However, when Erin was measured, she was 21 cms from the top of her bump to her pelvic bone which is a perfect measurement - it's 1 cm for every week.  

We also heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time.  The choo-choo audio from my grandad's collection of British Rail Sounds Of Train Stations vinyls were brought back to me as the baby's 158 heart-rate boomed around the room.  It was emotionally staggering. (Don't ask about the British Rail Sound Of Train Stations vinyls. They entertained a 4 year Jay but luckily didn't leave any lasting trainspotter scares.)

Erin's 21 weeks and a day now and we booked ourselves in 10 weeks ago.  Last time we took a bunch of questions which were answered easily with astounding reassurance and we left proudly bouncing all the way to the coffee shop where we reflected on what had happened. However, the 10 weeks since seeing the midwife has been a long time to dwell on other worries and another list of question were drawn up on Tuesday night.

They were nothing that hadn't been asked before so we asked them and they were answered:

The right side of Erin's bump seems to be bigger, is this normal?

Babies often start lying on the right but will move over as it gets bigger as more organs are on that side. It'll get more central.

How do you stop heartburn?

There's a natural acid build up during pregnancy.  Eat little but often and also milk before bedtime could work to reduce the acid build up.

Can we call an ambulance if we think things are going too fast on the day, especially as the waters could break in the Christmas period? 

Yes, but they prefer you not to.  If it's an emergency it's all right. Call around for taxis before the big day as some taxis don't take you when the waters have broken.

There were more but I'll save you those.

At the end, again, we walked out with an excited jump in our step.  Tomorrow's the scan.

Kick off

It's been a big weekend of sport.  The Olympics continued with Britain doing better than expected and the English Football Premier League started. Erin went up to Scotland to visit our friends Sarah and Robin and my mate JB came to London. 

John and I did the ridiculously boyish thing of setting the alarm clock for Rebecca Addlington's second gold medal chance, aimed to stay up and watch Paula Radcliffe in the marathon which started just after midnight on Saturday, and set the alarm again in the middle of the night to watch Michael Phelps' 8th gold medal race.  We let Paula down by giving up and falling asleep in the marathon but saw the live swimming.

Erin, up in Scotland, seemed to have a great time and kept texting me as such throughout.  On the way back one took me by surprise: 'I wish you could feel what I'm feeling and when I come home, maybe you will.'

When she did get home we caught up and chatted and laughed about what we'd got up to and then when it was time to relax a little she told me to do what I'd got excited but forgotten about doing earlier.

'Did you feel it?'

'No.'

'Move your hand down a little?.'

'There? And again.'

'Yes, and yes.'

I closed my eyes to imagine what was going.  A kick? Or punch? Or a stretch? Who knows? It was just incredible to think what is going on in there.  A growth of life.  Is this where the verb to describe feelings, moving, comes from? 

It was even better than the strike scored against Sunderland for Liverpool to secure their first win of the season.

The difference between boys and girls

Last weekend we spent time with our friends James and Claire.  They have a new niece called Maia. James and Claire each have the below pictures as their screensavers.

Guess who has which.

Did you aah then smile?

A rockin' and a rollin'

'Jay, Jay, come here and calm the baby down.' This was Erin's call to me from the bedroom as she wasn't feeling too good yesterday morning and went for a little extra sleep in the morning. 

'It's a rockin' and a rollin' in there,' she said looking at me mischievously. 

She told me to talk to it so I started by saying that it shouldn't try to be Michael Phelps or Rebecca Adlington just yet and rubbed Erin's belly with soothing cream. She said that the fluttery feelings have now turned into waves of movement. We are sure we could see where her head was. I gave an extra gentle rub.

I think she's about to pop and show a lot more soon.

The little one in there just wants more space.

A wobble

If Erin hadn't gone into her chosen profession I think she could have been in the FBI - remember she is American - or just been a plain and simple spy.  She's ridiculously intelligent, calm under pressure, good at learning languages and is very discrete. For me on the other hand it's a different story.  Being a bit thick and freaking out at tiny things are just two reasons why not. So it came as a surprise to me when Erin had a slight wobble on Sunday night, which caused more than a tremor of a wobble in our place.  

I could see something happening when she was on the phone with her dad.  Erin's mum wasn't in when she made the weekly phone call home but her dad was.  They talked together about a few things then she asked how quickly it took for the kids to appear after the waters broke - conversations like these are popping up all over the place at the moment. 

She wanted to hear about the first born but he told a story about the third instead. He said: 'Originally when we got to the hospital with Robyn, we were told we would be waiting a while, adding it could even be up to 2 days when she would enter the world.  You're mum was told that she wasn't ready yet.'  

That information wasn't quite correct, however.  10 minutes later the third of the De Vos clan was all cuddled up and making her presence know.

(We haven't got her mum's account to verify this yet but as soon as we do I'll let you know.)

We don't have a car and our baby could be born on Christmas Day, Boxing Day or New Year's Eve or Day. And we've been told by a paediatrician friend that you should listen to your parents' stories as they are the closest you are going to get to retrospective advice.  Erin put these two thoughts together and quietly started the panic machine ticking.  Later, after obviously mulling it over while we were watching The Tudors, we started talking.

The following questions and statements were then asked by the both of us, not sure by who though for most of them:

What if the baby's born on Christmas day? 

What will we do?

What if there are no taxis?  

Could we take an ambulance? 

It could be born in the ambulance! 

Or worse, taxi! 

'I may have to deliver it!', I definitely said this, not Erin.

I continued, 'I'll have to take a class on how to deliver babies!'

We don't have any friends with cars here to help us! 

What are we going to do? 

We're not ready! 

We haven't planned enough!  

We haven't done anything! 

There was more and it took a lot shorter for us to say it all than you took reading it.

We eventually calmed down and Erin said: 'Up until now it's been easy, now it's just going to get more difficult. I'm about to get a lot bigger and this fluttery feeling I keep having is going to start kicking and moving.  (It really is.) But we'll be all right.'

We breathed and hugged.

It was a major reality check for us.  We are planning and will be ready. But sometimes doubts rise to the surface.   

I now have a list of taxi firms at hand and a list of questions - including can we call an ambulance if we think the arrival is imminent? - for the midwife when we see her next week.

Should I stop?

I went for a run this afternoon. On the north bank of the Thames near Embankment I saw a couple pushing a Bugaboo Bee pram. We're interested in getting one of these and there are a few on ebay at the moment so I stopped and asked them what they thought of it. Half way through my question I lost my breath and had to repeat the question. I must have come across as a stalker. They were very nice though, saying it's the best investment they had made and that the pram is very light and great for the city. They added that they are much lighter than Cameleons. Great, it's always good to get real life opinions, not just on-line reviews. But should I stop people like that or stop stopping people like that?