Time for Another

the diary of our quest for baby number 2

Bump size Thursday 31 January 2008

Filed under: bump,doppler,heartbeat — timeforanother @ 8:45 pm

Ok, so I found a tape measure today whilst rummaging around looking for a 9v battery. My bump measures an impressive 94cm around – I’ll aim to do this once a week or fortnight and see just how enormous I become in the coming months.

Going back to the 9v battery – I never did find it – it was for our baby heartbeat monitor thingy which my sister bought us last time around. It’s not really for use before 21 wks and to be honest it wasn’t all that clear even then. So the call of Ebay came upon me like a flash and before I knew it, I’d found myself a doppler monitor (more like the ones used by midwives). Not content to wait and bid for a high tech 2nd hand one, I felt the need to get one asap. And with that, I ordered us an Angelsounds doppler for a bargain £19.99 +p&p. Hopefully should be with us in a day or two. The reviews look great and I shouldn’t have too much trouble picking up wrigglers hb at this stage. I’m hoping it will give us some reassurance in between scans, although I’m aware that they shouldn’t be used too often as there are concerns with overheating the baby. Still exciting though 🙂

 

How many days, weeks, months pregnant am I? Wednesday 30 January 2008

Filed under: calculator,facts,pregnant,size,things to do — timeforanother @ 6:36 pm

Dates and numbers:
There are 173 days until your due date on July 22, 2008.
You are 107 days pregnant.
You are 15 weeks pregnant.
You are 3.5 months pregnant.
You are in your 4th month of pregnancy.
Your 1st trimester: October 16, 2007 to January 14, 2008. (0 – 12 weeks)
Your 2nd trimester: January 15, 2008 to April 28, 2008. (13 – 27 weeks)
Your 3rd trimester: April 29, 2008 to July 22, 2008. (28 – 40 weeks)
Your baby’s crown-to-rump length is approximately 4 inches and s/he now weighs approximately 1.75 ounces. Your baby is close to the size of a softball and you can easily tell that you are pregnant now! If you wear maternity clothes or a swimming suit, other people will be able to tell that you are pregnant also. You can probably feel your uterus about three to four inches below your bellybutton.

With thanks to I-am-pregnant.com

Although my uterus is definitely higher up than that – I’d say it was just under my bellybutton right now! Probably still measuring larger because of the triplets. If I had a tape measure to hand, I’d measure around the bump – that would be fun to chart… 🙂

 

Ups and downs Tuesday 29 January 2008

Filed under: EDD,gender prediction,movements,reduction — timeforanother @ 6:00 pm

Nearly 3wks have passed since the reduction and it feels like months. Not that we’re used to it or have forgotten, but time is behaving very strangely to us. I’m 15wks pregnant today (although I look about 25wks!) and so much has happened that it feels like I should be further on. I have good days and bad days, good minutes and bad minutes. I still feel incredibly sad and guilty about our twins. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I can’t seem to reconcile my rational ‘head’ thoughts with my emotional ‘heart’ thoughts and I think it comes down to this:

Trying to imagine our 3 tiny babies, alive, dead, ill, in incubators with tubes, and/or disabled is beyond my comprehension; it isn’t where we were, and although they were real enough places to end up, it still felt ‘out there’ and not solid. Where we were, the more real place, was very much pregnant, hormonal (x3) and with 3 healthy 12wk old babies who could wave their arms and legs, and had definite profiles. They weren’t just a bunch of cells; we couldn’t ‘un-know’ them once we we’d had that first scan. Noone plans to have a twin or triplet birth, it’s just one of those things and despite only plannng for one more child, the fact that we had 3 more in one go was a reality to deal with. I loved them straightaway – how can a mother not? And I still love them. I know our decision was made with as much information as was available and all the reasons why it was the least worse ‘choice’ but I still find it hard to accept that we had to make the choice at all. It doesn’t get any easier and I really can’t imagine myself ever really resolving the two conflicting feelings.

I have felt a tiny flutter or two in the last few days but nothing much, and nowhere near as much as I was feeling with all 3 there. It’s been such a slap in the face – a really obvious sign of the twins not being there anymore. I really can’t wait until our wriggler can be felt moving often, it’ll make it feel more real, and hopefully reassure me that all is going well.

I’ve missed not being scanned this week, but there haven’t been any good reasons to go in early (next one is on Monday morning) and I know that I have to get used to having a ‘normal’ pregnancy sooner or later. I’m still getting the odd bit of brown gunk but nothing too much and I still get mild cramps and pulls particularly if I’ve been walking or doing the housework. Sounds like a good excuse to take it easy, but it’s driving me spare not getting to clean the floors and walking really slowly. Today I did the floors anyway so I guess I’ll pay tomorrow. I can’t keep living in a bubble of being scared of hurting this baby, as long as I don’t start swinging from chandeliers and attending hardcore aerobics classes I should be ok!

Our friends continue to amaze me with their support. As usual we thought we’d only tell a select few close friends, but it’s been easier to tell the full story to our friends. There is only one person who I’m loathe to hear the full version – she’s Catholic and I’m sure would have strong views on the reduction. Whilst I understand everyone is perfectly allowed to have their opinion, I’m not in a place yet where I can deal with feeling judged. I’m doing plenty of that myself thank you. So they will get the ‘lost the twins’ version which isn’t so far from reality. If they pry further, I shall simply say I’m not up for discussing it thanks. That’s the plan anyway.

My bump is really showing – mostly to do with having lax muscles I’m sure, but it does make me feel a bit more pregnant and we got some new tops for me over the weekend which emphasise it nicely. Funnily enough I’m still under my pre-preg weight, although it’s gradually creeping up again. Damn those double choc cookies.

On a lighter note, the Bounty girls had a fun thread the other day about gender prediction. There is a lady on Ebay who was ‘selling’ a prediction for £1.10, which went to charity. Well, it seemed like a good idea, and for charity, so why not?! You needed to email her your EDD and your own date of birth. Within minutes my reply came through – she says it’s a GIRL!! Well, obviously we have no idea just yet although my instincts tell me we’re bound to have another daughter (I come from a family with lots of females). Maybe I’ll be able to find out at the scan on Monday, otherwise we’ll hopefully find out at the 21wk scan (a very long way off at 14th March). We really don’t mind either way, it’s been such a bumpy journey so far, we’ll just be thrilled that we got to the end and have another baby to love.

 

Good day Wednesday 23 January 2008

Filed under: 21wks,bleeding,blood pressure,consultant,maternity clothes,midwife,scan — timeforanother @ 12:50 pm

I’m feeling optimistic today and have a secret smile when I think about our little wriggler growing so well inside me. Yesterday I posted our scan pics from last week on to Facebook which feels like a big step forward. I’ve been so scared and nervous to get too excited about this baby, fearing the worst at every turn, but it felt like the right time to start being upbeat.

We saw the consultant on Monday afternoon and it was quick but good. Another scan (no. 5, we have the most photographed baby ever!!) and all is well. He didn’t tell me the CTR (crown to rump) measurement but he said he thought wriggler was looking big for the dates – last week it measured a few mm’s off the dates so who knows, I’m absolutely sure of my dates – I could refer them here couldn’t I? 🙂 The twins are now squashed together and look teeny tiny, with little or no fluid around them – weirdly it wasn’t upsetting or gross to see them, although it made me feel sad. But I’m glad they’re together.

He doesn’t seem bothered by the brown bleeding I’m still getting on and off and there doesn’t seem to be any obvious reason for it. I wonder if it’s old blood from having 3 implantations… The best news is that he asked when I wanted to see him again – I had thought they might decide to send me back to regular routine local midwifery care (which would mean no more scans until 21wks which is 14th March) but I said when did he suggest would be good, and we came up with a fortnights time. When we spoke with the mw there, she seemed to indicate that they were going to look after me until we get to 21wks, so fingers crossed I’ll be getting at least 2 more scans in between. It’s so strange – I know how lucky we are to get to see wriggler so regularly but even going a few days seems like weeks for us as it’s been such a stressful & eventful few weeks. I’m on a high having seen the wriggler waving it’s arms and legs but a couple of days later when the bleeding starts again and the cramps start, I’m back to being a mess again and worrying myself silly that it’s all ending. So knowing they are there to keep me sane is amazing. Hurray for the Royal Sussex, if I had the money, I’d be buying a new wing there!!

So after our appt I went to Mothercare to buy a pair of maternity jeans. I’d bought some Seraphine ones from ebay, but overestimated the size I needed and they are hanging off of me. I tried on a size 12 and they were a bit roomy, so I thought, well why not try a 10, thinking I’d never get them past my knees!! But to my absolute delight, they fit like a dream, making my bum look a normal size instead of a great saggy lumpy thing 😀 Amazing – fall pregnant with triplets and end up losing weight and going down 2 dress sizes (not something I’d recommend mind you). All in all a lovely positive day. Our daughter came with us to the scan and was saying ‘baby kicking!’ which amused the consultant so much he gave her a scan pic of her very own which she clutched all the way home. Now she keeps saying ‘hello baby’ to my tummy and saying ‘mama not sad, mama happy!’ – and that makes me happier than ever.

I’ve also contacted my local mw to resurrect my regular appts with her as I realised I haven’t had my blood pressure or urine tested since 8wks (I’m 14wks now). I’m now booked to see her in Feb when I’ll be 17wks and need to see my GP to do a quick blood pressure and urine test for me in the meantime as she’s completely booked up.

For now, everything is looking and feeling ok. Fingers tightly crossed.

 

One week on Thursday 17 January 2008

Filed under: morning sickness,movements,nausea,pregnant,scan,SPD,symptoms,thank you,tired — timeforanother @ 8:19 pm

And I’m still very up and down. I’m relieved our remaining baby seems to be doing fine but still incredibly sad that the twins are gone. It still feels like we’re missing something, but I guess this is all natural and we are still grieving for our loss. We bought a set of little white clothes in newborn size to try and mark the start of looking forward and they are so cute, but whilst nice enough, it didn’t quite make me smile the way it did when we first bought things for our daughter. Still, tiny steps and all that.

I’ve printed off the latest scan pics and bought some lovely thank you cards which will go to our mum’s, my sister and my best friend all of whom have been amazing the last few weeks.

On a physical level, the fluid loss has (fingers crossed) finally stopped, although I’m still waking several times in the night thinking it’s about to happen again. The aching and sharp pains have all but subsided now and turning over at night is much easier. Wriggler is not really being felt yet, although I’m certain I’ve felt a wriggle of sorts on occasion – maybe wishful thinking, but nice nonetheless. The nausea has disappeared completely and it’s only now that it’s gone I realise how bad it had been! That’s not something I’m missing 🙂 I’m still getting quite tired but not that awful ‘must close my eyes right now’ feeling. Pushing the pushchair around yesterday has left me with strange aches deep down in my groin and I’m struggling to stand straight quickly. I’m hoping it’s not the start of SPD – I swear it looks like this pregnancy is going to give me a run for my money. Serves me right for having such a wonderful first one 😉

 

Thanks for the comments Tuesday 15 January 2008

Filed under: comments — timeforanother @ 5:46 pm

I’ve been a bit remiss about comments – I completely forgot to check my email associated with the blog and didn’t think to check within wordpress. D’oh! I guess I’m surprised to find real people are reading this (and just how many bots & spammers??!!). Many thanks for reading, taking time to comment and for the kind words over recent days.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief

Filed under: 2nd child,bleeding,hospital,midwife,scan — timeforanother @ 12:57 pm

After a fretful weekend where the fluid loss continued with the browny coloured blood, we tried calling our local hospital and King’s to no avail. Our local hospital were very sweet but explained that because they don’t do the procedure or see the after results very often, they couldn’t advise if the fluid loss was normal. The number we had for King’s rang out – presumably it’s an office hours number.

I called King’s yesterday afternoon – I’d been putting it off in case I heard the worst, but a nice midwife told me it was hard to say what was normal, the best thing to do was to arrange a scan at our local hospital to check the fluid wasn’t coming from our remaining baby’s sac. K the amazing midwife arranged an appt for me for 10am today so it was just one night to get through. I’ve started to not want to go to bed and sleep as it’s usually in the middle of the night that the fluid loss happens.

So a tiny loss in the middle of the night, followed by hours of inability to sleep again. Shaking like a leaf and feeling sick, we get to the hospital and wait for 5 minutes. The sonographers are so lovely as we explain what we can. Almost immediately they find our baby and its heart is beating, arms and legs waving, bouncing around just like our dd did. Plenty of fluid around it and it’s grown another cm since Thurs. It looks like the fluid loss is from the other two – there is minimal liquid surrounding them now, and their placenta is quite close to my cervix which may explain the brown bleeding. It may also cause problems with delivery if it remains there, but it’s early days and may move or disappear in the coming months. At this point that’s the least of our worries. We hope to have a homebirth, but honestly if they have to cut my legs off to get this baby out, I wouldn’t care.

We are still seeing the consultant on Monday where he’ll scan again to make sure he’s happy with how things are progressing, and then we’ll discuss how to proceed with antenatal care. I still can’t quite get over how amazingly supportive they have been to us. We also have our 21wk scan booked for 14th March. So strange to think that will be our 6th scan when usually it would be our 2nd.

We have 4 beautiful pictures of our bouncing bean – the profile is so like our daughter – the exact same nose. I had been thinking it’s a girl but today I’m not so sure. Again, I don’t give a monkeys – funny how when I started writing this blog, it was partially to document whether we could actively try for a boy. How things change.

 

Thursday 10th January Monday 14 January 2008

I have to get this down, and as I’m as honest here as I am for real, it will not make the most pleasant reading. However it is what happened.

My MIL looked after our dd whilst I faffed around most of the morning before deciding to go for a swim. I managed about 3 lengths before becoming breathless – that’ll be the triplets then, sapping my energy and oxygen!! I took time to float in the blue and talk inwardly to my three babies. Nothing really specific but as much love as any mother feels for her children and sincere apologies about what was to happen. As I was swimming, the blue of the pool became out of focus so I couldn’t distinguish the bottom and it’s something which remained with me all day – ‘into the blue’ – that’s where my babies were going, into the blue, swimming and floating endlessly, happy and safe.

After a tearful phone conversation with my mum I got home to wash the chlorine out of my hair and put on some smarter clothes. Why the need to look smart I don’t know but it felt right. I realised when I got home that I had subconciously dressed all in black. I packed my bag with some fruit, my notes and a book then ordered a cab to get to the station. On the train, I wrote up our list of questions – one page for decision making, lots of ‘if this, then ???’ and a page for afterwards.

My husband met me at Victoria and we travelled the final stretch to Denmark Hill together. A grim, grey windy day – I couldn’t decide if it was apt or if I’d have felt more miserable if the sun had been shining.

We arrive at King’s College Hospital and find our way to Suite 9 of the Jubilee Wing. We wait. It’s hot and busy – lots of excited looking mums – some probably at the same stage as me, here for their nuchal scans, others much further down the line. We get called through for them to take my bloods, although because I’m expecting triplets, blood results are no use for diagnostic testing for Down’s etc. I told the guy this but he insisted that he had to take it. I’m phobic about needles and blood so blood taking is like pure torture for me and already stressed by the day ahead of me, I didn’t cope very well. It hurt like hell and I could feel him prodding the needle around – probably not helped by me wailing like a baby. He managed to get a tiny amount of blood but the lab needed more. So he began butchering my other arm instead. Thankfully not quite so painful but unpleasant nonetheless.

We then were called straight over to have the scan done. Before I even got to lie down on the couch, it became apparent that they thought I was having twins and when we explained, no it’s triplets (we’ve had 2 scans already) they told us that we’d have to go to another waiting area to wait for the better scanning equipment. He also said (as I thought) they needn’t have taken bloods. I burst into tears again- already the day was filled with small mistakes, how could it get any worse?

We headed down to the other waiting area where there were 2 other couples. They were called and seen and we were joined by others. They were called and seen. We waited. We were near the offices of the consultants and midwives so there was much to-ing and fro-ing from them. At one point a woman (doctor?) came out of one room and spoke to a man in scrubs “do you want to watch a baby being killed later?” she said to him. There was much joshing around about this, but we were appalled. How insensitive can you get? Not least for us who were considering the reduction but for any pregnant woman. I was furious and resolved to complain later.

After 2hrs waiting, we finally got called in. The sonographer was pleasant enough but kept asking “what do you want to do?” all we could say was we can’t keep three. The scan took time as they had to measure each one and use all the diagnostic tests available because they couldn’t combine with blood tests. Each of my babies was perfect. Everything in order, low nuchal fold measurements, heart beats, all limbs, stomach, brain, spine etc etc. Perfect. How can such good news be so crucifying? We were sort of hoping that the results would show a problem which might make deciding easier. But no.

We then wait for the Professor to come in. He arrives with an entourage of about 7-8 doctors (who we presume are research fellows). He puts things bluntly and tells us to put our questions away. Why can’t we keep 3? I feel like I’m being questioned for a crime, my mind goes blank and yet I know we’ve been over and over the how’s and how nots in the last week and a half. I feel scrutinised. He writes on a bit of paper the chances of miscarriage for keeping one, two or 3 of the babies – 15% for all between now and 23wks. Then a second set of percentages for risk of premature birth/disability/death for each ‘option’. 20-30% for 3, 10% for 2, 5% for 1. That’s it he says, that’s all you need to know.

We go and sit in a quiet room for 10 mins (we could leave our decision until next Tues but I don’t think you’d have got me back there – it’s now or never). I desperately want to keep the twins – it seems natural to want to keep as many as possible, but my husband ever the practical minded says the best outcome is to keep one and isn’t that what we decided? I guess it is but I’m blinded by my heart again. Despite this, we have to decide now. Against my every fibre we tell the doctor we ‘want’ (never has a word been so inadequate) to keep the singleton. I swear I get given a look that says ‘what? you’re getting rid of 2 out of 3 babies? do you know how rare it is for you to have even conceived them naturally?!’ My husband tells me that isn’t how it is, but already I’m judging myself and assume everyone else is too.

We go to another room and are told, the Professor is finishing another procedure so we’ll have to wait for him. They scan me again, give us the calculated risks of Down’s etc for each ‘fetus’. Typically, the twins have the lowest risk scores but the singleton is not anywhere near high risk. We try to ask about what is to be expected afterwards but keep getting dismissed with “if you get lots of heavy bleeding and pain, you are miscarrying, go to your local hospital” no mention of any ‘normal’ symptoms in the coming days. We wait some more. I ask about antibiotics to minimise the risk of infection. And yes, they will be doing that shortly. It takes me a moment to realise these aren’t goint to be oral, oh no, they want to stick it in my arm. Once again they attempt to use my left arm as it’s the one which at the time hurts the least, however there is pain and immense discomfort (more wailing and crying from me) – they decide that the veins in that arm are no use for injecting and so go for the right arm again. It hurts less but I am in a panic now and can’t stop sobbing. It takes an age for the stuff to be pushed in but finally it’s over. We continue to wait for the Prof.

He arrives and after a terse question about if we are certain, I’m told to lie down and stop crying, grip his arm and look away from the monitor. I’m vaguely aware that the entourage are surrounding the couch, silently filing in. My darling husband grips my other hand tightly and wipes tears from his eyes. It’s 7.45pm The needle? is pushed into my abdomen and through my uterus. It’s an unusual sensation, not painful but strange. My only analogy is threading raw chicken onto skewers. There is one moment where the feeling is really unpleasant and a moan out loud a little. I hear the Prof asking his assistant to put 2ml into the end – I guess this is the potassium chloride. Another couple of jabs and that’s it. About 10 mins in all. The Prof tells us, you have one baby. The entourage have silently filed out again, leaving me and my husband with one or two others. I sob uncontrollably and feel like the worst mother in the world and immediately filled with regret and remorse, that we have made the wrong decision. The doctor assisting gives me a big hug and tells me “you have made the best decision for you and your family”. By the time we come to a little (3mins?) the room is almost empty, the Prof has long gone. Again, we try to ask about the coming days and what to expect – any bleeding or fluid loss etc? but are again told about the miscarriage scenario. We go and sit in the quiet room again. The sofa in there is so old and saggy that to sit in it is really uncomfortable so I sit in the hard chair instead. There is an empty box of tissues on the side which just about sums up the place. We cry some more then try and get a grip, it’s done after all and there’s no going back.

After 30mins or so, we go back into the scan room where the check that our remaining baby is doing ok. We see it briefly and it is moving and it’s heart is beating. Already I miss seeing all three of them and I become aware that I can’t feel them move any more. They’d been going like crazy up until the reduction, and quite obviously they weren’t now. 12 wks is ususally far to early to feel movements so it’s going to be a few weeks yet before I can feel our little bean moving on it’s own. I’m overwhelmed with sadness once again. Once the 2 min scan has confirmed all is ok, we’re off. That’s it. Over.

It’s 8.30pm – we have been there 6hrs, mostly waiting. Physically it’s my arms which are hurting the most (not something I expected from the day!), mentally we are both drained. We get home at 10.30pm exhausted, all cried out. My tummy aches but I can’t bear to touch it. I just want to get through the coming days.

Now, nearly 4 days on, I’ve had 5 fluid leaks and continue to feel achey. Some days are ok, some I want to curl up and stay there. MIL took our daughter back with her for the weekend to give us some time together alone which was good, we missed her like crazy but we needed to take time for both of us. I’m desperately hoping that the remaining bean is a sticky one. We have been unable to find about what is normal after a reduction – the fluid loss bothers me although I know I’m not miscarrying. I’m surprised and disgusted that King’s didn’t give us any information about what to expect – my local hospital were lovely but didn’t have any ideas about what is normal as they don’t see reductions. Even if you have a tooth extracted at the dentist you usually come out with a checklist of what to expect and when to be concerned. But no, we’re left to our own devices, feeling as if what we’ve done is a dirty little secret.

Thank god for our fantastically supportive families and friends, and also the Yahoo support group Selective Reduction Loss Support group (invitation only). The staff at the Royal Sussex hospital have been amazing too, unlike their counterparts at King’s college hospital, who were at best capable of performing the reduction quickly, at worst, ineffecient, uncaring, crass.

To my darling twins, I hope you are safe in the blue. I love you so much and will never forget you. To my little bean, stay with us little one, you are very much loved. At least you’ll have a little more space to stretch your legs now.

 

Today triplets, tomorrow… who knows. Wednesday 9 January 2008

The last evening with 3 inside me probably. Tomorrow at 3pm we have the nuchal fold scan at King’s College Hospital, London, x 3. Then an appt with Professor Kypros Nicolaides who will discuss reduction. Then we if we think we have enough, and the right information he’ll do the reduction. It will be based on the results of the nuchal scan as well as statistical evidence on the best outcome. A hard day. I know I shouldn’t beat myself up about it, but it’s so hard not to. How can any mother ‘choose’ to ‘lose’ one or more of her babies, that are growing and wriggling inside her? I just hope that we are able to hold on to at least one and it will make the decision more bearable – that we did it to give that one the best possible chance of a healthy life.

 

Stop the world, I want to get off Sunday 6 January 2008

If only. This has got to be the longest 7 days in the history of man and each day has brought more extreme emotions than the last. I found a great resource in the shape of an online forum called mumsnet – their ‘multiples’ area has brought a wealth of support from twin and triplet mums, and not all doing the ‘congratulations, it’ll be hard but you can do it’ type of support. One pointed me at a blog by a French lady living in America who after IVF was expecting quads, who went on to have a ‘reduction’ (another word for fetocide, or basically eliminating one or more of a multiple pg by means of a potassium chloride injection into the fetus’ heart via your abdomen). This is something which we want to discuss with the consultant – I have no idea if it’s something that will be offered in the UK, or if it only gets offered if there are abnormalities with any of the three.

I can’t tell you how much I hate having to read about this stuff, let alone think about it happening to me, them and us. Many women get through such things by not allowing themselves to think of the babies inside them as babies but I’ve found that impossible. I was so happy to be pregnant and I can’t switch that off now that I know I’m pregnant with three. They are all my babies and I love them all unconditionally already, yet I know we can’t have three – maybe in a perfect world we could, but right now it’s doesn’t seem like an option. And it’s not just down to me, dh really doesn’t think we can do it and is worried (rightly) about the strain it would put on us as a couple, let alone the finances, having to move out of our local area and be miles away from friends and family. So all I can do right now is love them knowing they will only be with me for a short time. I’m determined to ask for a scan picture of them all in one shot – it may be morbid to some, but I don’t want any one of them to be forgotten. And anyway, reduction comes with it’s own risks – it may cause the remaining ones to miscarry so we could end up with no babies at all.

As if these things weren’t enough to overwhelm us, I also started losing ‘old blood’ (it’s brown) which is probably nothing to worry about, but this morning there was quite a lot and accompanied by strong aches/pains in my abdomen. There’s no point in calling anyone, we’re seeing the consultant tomorrow and anyway, I suspect it’s just one of those things. Still, I could really do without it. It’s just another worry on top of the mountain we already have.

Sorry this is a depressing post, but I need to get things down, and whilst my mum and husband are listening, I don’t think they can truly understand how it is for me – the one who is carrying them, who will be the one to have needles poked into her tummy, to feel the effects of hormones racing around her, to deal with the joy of being pregnant to the hell of having to decide how to proceed with the pregnancy. I keep hoping that someone will just tell me what to do, or that the scan will show abnormalities which will make decisions slightly more justified but it’s not going to happen is it? It’s really down to us and that kills me.