To our unborn daughter

Dear little baby girl,

There is just over four weeks left before we finally get to meet you and I am getting very excited about it. We have been waiting for you for so long now and now the moment that we get to know you is almost there. I can't wait to see what you look like, what you sound like, feel your skin against mine, marvel at your little toes and fingers, smell your sweet baby smell and see you in your daddy's arms. The contrast is going to be sweet: his big and strong arms holding such a tiny little person: you!

At the same time I am still not completely used to having a now big pregnant belly. The belly which for a long time I thought couldn't hold a new life. Now you are in it, at this moment already completely formed, just filling out and getting rounder and ready for the world. Sometimes your daddy catches me admiring my belly and he teases me endlessly about it. Other than what he might think, I am not admiring myself, but I am still amazed and very grateful at the thought that you are growing in there.

Every morning I wake up with this excited feeling. In my sleepiness, it takes a moment to realise what the excitement is about and then I realise what it is. We're are having a baby! And most mornings I feel you kicking away and I cherish those moments together, lying next to your daddy. The way I feel comes close to what I remember from my birthday mornings when I was a kid, waking up excited, wondering about the party and the guests and looking forward to opening the presents. You'll soon get to experience that feeling too!

Before your first birthday however, there will be lots and lots of other things to discover. The world to start with! Quite a shock I imagine after being warm and protected for so long. I sometimes wonder what it is like for you to be inside my womb and whether you feel my caressing hands, hear your daddy singing silly songs, are happy when I am giggling away or notice when I am upside down during one of my yoga sessions. I think that you probably do, especially since I get furious kicks of protest from you when I am not sitting upright and there is not enough space for you in my abdomen. Loud noise also seems to startle you.

Hopefully the early contractions I had a few weeks back, didn't upset you too much. When I felt the contractions, at first I did not realise what they were. I just thought it was one of the inconveniences of pregnancy. Until I walked into the midwife's consultation room in tears and her reaction showed me this amount of pain was not normal. The pain scared me, I feared there might be something wrong with you, that you might come into this world way too early.

Before sending us off for more tests, the warm-hearted midwife hugged me and reassured me. She said you had gone through so much trouble to be with us, now was not the time for you to leave us already, so I was not to worry. Your daddy, being the rational person he is, later said that we had gone through a lot of trouble to have you. But I quite liked the idea of your soul finding us, just like we found you. Like we are meant to be together.

Your journey started now almost nine months ago, but your daddy's and my story is a bit longer than that. But in November 2007, you came into our lives. On Saturday the 10th to be precise. I remember well the morning in Barcelona when we went to the clinic to pick you up. Or rather, it wasn't you just yet, it was just a cluster of cells, two clusters of cells in fact. A fusion of egg cells from an extremely generous woman and your daddy's sperm. A woman that we don't know anything else about other than her age and her blood group, but to whom we will remain grateful forever, since she gave us the possibility to get pregnant and have you.

I was to go in for the transfer with a full bladder and instead of drinking water, I had a mega-sized cup of Starbucks camomile tea. I figured that a nice and relaxing warm drink, would make a far more welcoming environment for an embryo than a big balloon of cold water. We saw the two embryos on the screen, one of which was to grow into you. I felt so special leaving the clinic, knowing that I was carrying such a precious load inside me. That night we celebrated with a glass of the best Spanish Cava.

After that, the waiting began. Waiting to see if I would be pregnant. Technically I was, having two pre-embryos inside me, but there was no guarantee that you would actually 'stick'. I remember being very aware of everything going on inside me. Cycling in the November cold, feeling every bump in the road, wondering if that might accidentally shake you out. It was also during one of my rides to work that I realised that something was happening in my body: I could hardly catch my breath and felt like a 95-year old woman.

I now know that on the sixth day after conception the cluster of cells that were to become you, already started to release chemicals that caused uterine cells to burst. The pre-embryo nourished itself on these exploded cells. And it created a site to attach itself to the uterus. As the cells of the pre-embryo grew and multiplied, most of them became the placenta. The other became a very small version of you.

Nine days after the transfer I did a first home pregnancy test. Or rather, a work pregnancy test in my case since I tested on the toilet at work. I called your dad to tell him about the faintest of the faintest second pink line. He told me to take it easy and wait a bit longer. So I waited and tested again the next day. And the next. And the next. Every day the line became a little stronger. The blood test fourteen days after the transfer confirmed what we had hoped for so long: I was pregnant. Wow! Finally!

The first weeks, months even, we still found it hard to believe. Afraid that something might go wrong. It took a while before we could genuinely be happy, think about what the future might hold, how we would be a family. Your daddy was so proud. You will soon learn that beneath the rationality, he is very sensitive and tender. He was beaming with pride when he first talked about this pregnancy and if he could, he would have wrapped me in cotton wool for the first months.

Even after getting pregnant, I have occasionally struggled a bit with the idea of you and me not being genetically linked. Sometimes it made me feel a little detached from this pregnancy. It made me sad that you would probably not look like me, cry with laughter like I do (tears running down my sister's and my cheeks when we have a laughing fit), but most of all, that you would not be a combination of your daddy and me.

I do realise though that having a child is about so much more than about genes and DNA. After all, I gave you life, you are growing in my belly, you will feed off my breasts. Every little cell of your body has begun in me. And, thankfully, there is no evidence that being stubborn or strong willed is genetically inherited. There is more of an environmental link than a genetic link. So you might turn out to be just as stubborn, strong willed, emotional and clumsy as me. Lucky you!

At first I wanted you to be a poster child for egg cell donation, but your conception story is more yours and not so much ours to tell. When you are ready, we will tell you the story, show you the pictures and tell you about the steps in the process. We will tell you how desired you were and how much we anticipated your arrival. So when one of my friends asked me who I thought you would look like, I told him probably more like Jonny, you being the result of egg cell donation. But foremost and above all, I told him, you are going to be you.

I do hope that you will resemble your daddy. Apart from being very handsome, you will soon come to learn that he is a very generous and giving man and that he already loves you very much. You will undoubtedly love him right back. I am very very blessed to have him with me on this journey and I don't know what I would have done without him. He dried my tears when I was crying, he held my hand when I was in pain, he listened when I needed to be heard. He was there for me. Like I know that he is going to be there for you.

And now we're almost ready to meet you. Your tiny room is almost ready, the furniture put together by your daddy, your clothes ironed by me. It's amazing how many worldly possessions you already have. You have been given many clothes, toys, books, lotions and, my favourite, a pair of little red leather shoes. Gifts from all your uncles and aunts, great uncle and aunt, both sets of grandparents, many kind friends, relatives and colleagues. It is so special to see how many people are really looking forward to having you around.

There are a few things that still need to be done before your arrival though. Your grandmother is going to sow a canopy for over your cot. I still have to pick an outfit for you to come home in. We still need to decide on your middle name. But foremost, your daddy is going away for business tomorrow and I have told him we would wait for him to come back. I am sure we will be okay, just you and me for a few days. And then, we will get to meet you and be the family we so longed for. Like one of my friends said, everything happens at the right time.

Love,
your mummy

Thirty-five week belly shot

Well, thirty-four weeks and five days actually, but who's counting? This one's a bit unconventional... since as you can see Flo's standing on her head. But you at least get a good idea of the belly and ironically, this yoga pose gives the baby's head a rest, since for the past couple of weeks her head has been engaged in Flo's pelvis and she's been spending most of her life upside down.

Don't worry, it's not dangerous... Flo was under the careful supervision of her Yoga instructor and you can probably make out this picture was taken inside a Yoga studio, which happens to be two doors down the street from our house, which is very convenient!


Meanwhile, while Flo was at Yoga, Boris was at home helping me out with the laundry.

Hospital Update

We returned to the hospital this morning to meet up with the specialist gynaecologist. Before meeting him, Flo was hooked up to the CTG machine again to monitor the baby's heart rate. This time, it was in the normal, healthy range between 140 and 160 bpm for the thirty minutes or so that she was monitored.

The gynaecologist had a good scan around with the ultrasound, taking measurements of the head and limbs and having a close look at the baby's heart. His conclusion... everything looked perfectly normally and the baby was, as far as he could see, perfectly healthy. He said the elevated heart rate was likely just linked to some high activity of the baby, particularly since the heart rate was seen to reduce during the time the baby was monitored earlier in the week.

So, scare over and everyone can relax once more!

Thirty-four weeks and back in hospital

This weeks Flo's been much better. She's obviously pregnant and therefore gets tired in the afternoon and heads off to bed for a quick snooze, but other than that she's been quite perky. She managed a couple of light yoga sessions this week and we've been on some small grocery shopping outings and went to the cinema for a matinee on Monday.

Today we returned to the hospital for a routine check up with the midwife. Flo's weight and blood pressure were fine, but when it came to measuring the baby's heart rate, it was a bit on the high side at around 190 bpm (beats per minute). This concerned the midwife a little so she rang the gynaecology ward where Flo was once again hooked up to the cardiotocograph machine. One and a half hours later, a trainee gynaecologist came and interviewed Flo and after the proper one came and had a look Flo had some blood taken to test for infections (again). An appointment with one of the hospitals senior and specialist gynaecologists has also been made so that he can take a closer look at the baby's heart on the ultrasound scanner.

During the one and a half hours of monitoring, the baby's heart rate returned to a normal 150 bpm and Flo and I are both pretty confident that the elevated heart rate is simply a function of the baby being so active, since she was kicking and thumping around quite a bit all morning. However, it's better to be safe than sorry so, despite being a bit frustrated with having to spend another couple of hours in the hospital today (although we did get a free hospital lunch out of it!) I suppose it's worth it just to ensure that the baby is fit and healthy.

Flo received a phone call from the gynaecologist late this afternoon to confirm the appointment with the specialist next Friday and also informed that the results from the blood tests were negative, so nothing has been identified wrong with Flo at least. So now we sit tight 'til Friday...

Otherwise, things seemed to be going well. If you can ignore the sensors in the picture here, you can see that Flo's belly is developing nicely and is now a lovely, full bulge. It's funny watching it in the evening and seeing movement inside of it... a bit alien-esqué. Our little girl can certainly be pretty active... this morning when we were waking up, Flo pulled my hand onto her belly and within thirty seconds I felt a little limb moving around inside her... which made me smile as I still find it a bit unnerving! It's such a weird idea, the thought of a little human inside another.

It's not all been babies this week though. We've recently noticed a wet patch emerging under the paving stones in the back garden after using the bathroom and/or toilet upstairs. When I initially saw it I was feeling pretty proud of myself, since I'd done an enormous poo (I blame the healthy food that Flo's been feeding me) and thought I might have plugged up the plumbing. Anyway, Flo gave the builder a call and to his credit he was pretty efficient at getting a plumber to come 'round and have a look and give the house a colonoscopy. Turns out our one hundred year old plumbing had finally had its day and a section of it needed replacing with some modern PVC stuff. So, that's another thing sorted on the house!


Boris and Boika seem to be very happy that we've been spending so much time at home. In fact, I think they're getting a bit too used to it and starting to take a few liberties... like expecting food and water from the tap on demand and copious amounts of attention (only when they want it of course). Boika seems to be struggling to adapt to our more leisurely morning rise, not failing to wake us up at 7 a.m. every morning for her biscuit breakfast with a barrage of meowing at our bedroom door. But they still like to indulge in each others company occasionally and snuggle up together on the sofa. In fact this fleece blanket that my mum gave us has become Boris' comfort blanket... he gets upset if he can't find it to lie on since he loves to cuddle up to it! Anyway, in the picture above you can see him giving a mighty kitty raw after I woke them up returning home yesterday afternoon. Don't you just want to give them a big hug!

Thirty-two weeks

Only a week late, but here's a thirty-two week belly shot of Flo. As you can see, the little one has certainly grown a fair bit in the last couple of weeks and there's no mistaking that Flo's pregnant any more!

We were back at the hospital last week for a check-up with a new gynaecologist and to have a thirty-two week check up ultra-sound scan taken. Our little girl is normally very active, but just like her daddy, she doesn't like to perform on request and so when the lady performing the ultra-scan needed her to move so that she could image her hands and feet, our little girl remained perfectly still. I think the lady was a bit concerned as she asked several times whether this was normal and whether she normally moved around a bit. She was so adamant that she wanted to see the hands and feet that she asked us to return for another scan after seeing the gynaecologist.

Everything was fine with the gynaecologist, except that she couldn't shed any more light on the cause of Flo's symptoms. We asked her advice on whether we should travel to the UK this week (we were scheduled to go to a friends wedding and had planned to visit my parents and some friends) and she advised against it. So, unfortunately we had to cancel our travel plans, which was pretty upsetting, but we don't want to take any chances with this little one!

Back with the ultra-sound scan woman (what's her job title?), she confirmed what the midwife told us last week when she had a feel of Flo's belly. Our little girl has very long legs, a pretty average sized body and a large head. In fact, I noticed on her computer screen when she was inputting the data that her head was described as "P-95". This means that she has a 95th percentile sized head, which means that statistically only 5% of babies have a larger head than our little girl! So, I'm assuming that she needs a large head in which to fit her large brain because she's going to be so intelligent! You can see the ultra-sound image of our babies head in the picture above.

Back at home, Flo's continuing to take things easy with plenty of cat naps and sofa rest (she doesn't like to stay in bed). However, she's more active now and doesn't require me to make all the meals and serve them to her in her day bead any longer, which is good news for me since I was finding the experience very tiring! But I suppose it's good practice for when the baby is born...

On Sunday we had some friends over for lunch. We were supposed to have gone over to Amsterdam to meet and have lunch there, but given Flo's current condition they kindly offered to prepare and cook lunch at our house so that Flo could continue to take things easy but still get to see them all. Since Flo's not in any condition to help me with any manual work, I took the opportunity to ask one of our friends to help me install the shelves in the baby room. As you can see from the picture, the room is now almost complete and just needs personalising a bit before the baby comes along. We were a bit concerned that the room would be too small, but it's turned out to be perfectly adequate and actually quite a sweet little room. I'm just looking forward to the finishing touch... a little baby girl!

... a hiccupping jicama

Our little girl grew from four navel oranges to a jicama in one week. Fancy that. Without the jicama in my culinary reference, I first had to find out what a jicama was: the big Mexican brother of our humble potato (which of course was also a native from more exotic places).

The ultrasound we had last Thursday confirmed her size: a good two kilos (wow, that means you just need one jicama for a pan of stamppot?). Fast forward to today: no more contractions, so the strict bed rest seems to have worked wonders. Although I am officially not on bed rest anymore, with my energy level still below zero, I am still keeping to a kitty schedule: eat - sleep- sleep- eat- sleep. Boris and Boika are well impressed!

Meanwhile our little girl seems to be deliciously unaware of all the commotion; sleeping, kicking, growing and hiccupping away. Foetal hiccups are the strangest sensation: rhythmic, persistent, little poppings in your bump.

Apparently hiccups are a sign of a healthy baby as it helps to mature their longs, so they are not only entertaining, but reassuring as well. Or maybe there is an environmental link and she gets excited at the prospect of food already, just like me! More on genetic and environmental links later, I have been meaning to write something about that for ages now.

On Braxton-Hicks, fruit and veg and sofa duty

Since I have been home I have not experienced any Braxton Hicks' contractions anymore. Which was the reason I was admitted to hospital. Or 'hard bellies', as they are called in Dutch, since the contractions are accompanied by a hardening of the wall of the uterus.

One of my friends texted me asking whether BH contractions weren't a normal part of a healthy pregnancy. Which indeed they are. They are thought to increase the uterine blood flow and the transfer of oxygen to the foetus. In later pregnancy they play a part in moving the babies head down into the pelvis in preparation for labour. More on Braxton Hicks' contractions here.

However, they are not supposed to be painful (as in not being able to walk, like I wasn't) or frequent (every time I moved), long-lasting (as long as I moved) or severe. Especially since doctors can't tell the difference between BH contractions and 'real' contractions and you might be in pre-term labour. Which fortunately I wasn't since it is still waaaaay too early for our little girl to come and say hello.

I am so glad that she seemed to be doing all right throughout the whole ordeal. There was actually something of the 'fast and the furious' going on inside me. She managed to kick off the CTG a couple of times. As you can see on the earlier picture of the CTG (the little blocks), there was a lot of movement. Or, as Jonny suggested, she might have been trying to say something in Morse code...

A quick size update on her size and weight: over the last weeks, our girl was respectively the size of a cucumber, weighed the same as the head of a cauliflower, a Chinese cabbage, a butternut squash, a cabbage and most recently, four navel oranges. That's a lot of vitamin C!

Speaking of food, that is of course not the only reason that I am glad to be home again. However much fun it is to share details about bowel movements (or the lack thereof) with relative strangers, I much rather spend time with my husband and the cat family, sleeping in my own bed and having my computer with me as a link to the outside world.

After two days of not being allowed by Jonny to carry as much as a cup to the kitchen, I am now on 'careful mobilising'. I have not been explained the the doctors what this exactly means, but I have been taking it really easy and only making the occasional cup of tea. Unfortunately not being allowed by my body than to do anything else but.

I still feel completely shattered and nap throughout the day. So although my concept of taking it easy might slightly differ from other people's (as one of my friends carefully suggested), at the moment everybody can rest assured that I am getting a lot of rest indeed. Giving the four navel oranges all the chance to grow into...