A tale of two hips.

Hips, our lives recently have been revolving around these joints.

Squeaky had his closed reduction this week. It was long and ultimately disappointing day.
We arrived at the hospital at 7.30 after a very early start with a chilled baby, surprising considering he had missed breakfast. We got shown into the day ward and settled in with the standard visits from the anesthetist, surgeon and nurses with their repetitive but needed questions. We signed forms and Squeaky smiled at every one. We changed him into his huge hospital gown and waited to be called to theatre.

For reference, a closed reduction is when the patient is put to sleep and the hip injected with dye and x-rayed and then manually manipulated into place, and x-rayed to check the placement.  It is done under General so all the muscles are completely relaxed. Once the joint is in place the patient in put in a spica cast, a plaster cast from waist to ankle of the affected leg(s), knee on the other, for 12 weeks.  Sometimes a tendon in the groin is released (cut) to release the tension on the hip to stop it being pulled out of place.

I walked him to the theatre, no bed for him, just the comfort of mum’s arms. He was very interested in everything going on.  I sat in a chair, answered the questions as they made sure they had the correct patient. I held him as they put him to sleep, not a pleasant experience as he struggled against the mask and then went floppy. I had to hold my head back because the smell of the anaesthetic gave me some unpleasant flashes of the times I had smelt the same smell.

Mr Gin and I went and had some down time in the hospital restaurant. We went back and waited for the return of our small boy. The surgeon, Ms Bijlsma came to us in her scrubs and a serious look on her face. She was not happy with the procedure. Squeaky’s hip that felt stable was in fact very unstable and she was not convinced that the hip was in place. It looked good on the x-ray but she wasn’t that happy. She said she will order a CT scan to take slices of the hip from other angles to see if it is in place. If not then we would have to look at more invasive options. Not great news and we crossed our fingers it worked.

I went to get Squeaky from recovery; he was being nursed by a nurse whilst he screamed. I held him and tried to settle him, the poor possum was in a strange place, in a cast and hungry.  We got back to the ward, he was still screaming, I pretty much squashed the suggestion of offering him water. He was hungry and needed comfort. So juggled him around and fed him, the cast made him heavy and awkward. The feed settled him and he went to sleep on me, we changed parents as beds and then got him to sleep in the cot.

I took him to the CT scan in the stroller/buggy and he was starting to be his normal self. Mr Gin had gone to get some fresh air and lunch. Squeaky was chilled in the CT scanner and we returned to the ward to wait.

Ms Bijlsma arrived and the look on her face said it all. It had failed, the back of Squeaky’s hip socket is flatish making it difficult to stay in place. Poor Squeaky, going through all this for it not to work.

The next step is an open reduction, more invasive using surgery to ‘fiddle’ with the joint and tendons and fat to get it to stay in place.  Then into a Spica cast, again.  This cannot be done till he is one. I can remember my final open reduction, I was six. My heart breaks for Squeaky.

We took him off to have the cast removed, another situation that bought back a lot of memories. I am so glad we had not taken the Ear defenders off the buggy.

Finally, we took out little boy with his stitches from his tendon release, home. He was super cuddly and clingy the following day as we managed his pain and generally rallied together.

Before Squeaky’s operation I went and introduced Mr Hutt to Squeaky and we discussed my thigh pain which has not disappeared. I am having a CT scan this week to work out what our next step is and if I want to have surgery to fix the issue.  At this moment it is going on the back burner a bit because Squeaky is the priority.
For now, we are going to do a lot of swimming while he is cast free.

In other news, we are running a fund raiser for the hospital that treated Squeaky on the Isle of Skye, Info here: Fund raising for MacKinnon Hospitial

Slightly off topic but thank the stars for the NHS.

It is a week since I was up early after feeding Squeaky and had stopped to watch seals play in the surf that our holiday house overlooked.  It was idyllic.

My parents, over from Australia, pottered around the house as we readied ourselves to head to the coral beaches on the Isle of Skye, making the most of the glorious weather on our last full day on the island.

The road was single lane with some passing points to the beaches, a good 25 minutes from the nearest village, Dunveagan and a double lane road. The views were stunning and Squeaky was happy in his car seat with my mum on one side and me on the other.  We arrived in the carpark and parked our big hire 4x4 and unloaded ourselves. We decided the gravel was too much for the stroller, so we would pop Squeaky in the sling, same as we had the previous days before. I was wearing the sling as I was worried about Mr Gin’s back. Off we went.

The path was smooth and gravelly and smelled of sheep. Squeaky was happily watching the world from my chest and I chatted to him and my mum as we went along, the gravel changed into larger rounded stones and I slowed so my mum could keep up. I lost my footing.

I screamed and watched in slow motion as the ground came up to meet us, and my baby’s face went from smile to scared to screaming as his head hit the ground. I fell to the left trying to protect him and my hip replacement. His little head bounced on the rocks and all I could do was hold him as he screamed.  Mr Gin got me to get up as I lost the plot because all I could see was Squeaky’s head hitting the rock and all I could say was he hit his head through my tears.

As Mr Gin pulled Squeaky out of the sling I could see a huge bump along the side of Squeaky’s head. Mr Gin pulled his hood over his head and we went back to the car, Squeaky crying all the way. Between us we got him in his car seat, my dad got us out of the car park and we drove out. Squeaky was screaming and I was doing my best to get him to settle. We had no phone signal and knew Portree had a small hospital but it was almost an hour by car over the island. I called 112 and got through; I wanted to call ahead to the hospital to let them know we were coming. They couldn’t do that so they put me through the ambulance. We could tell them what road we were on but the dispatcher wanted us to pull over. We parked in Dunveagan Castle carpark and Mr Gin took over the call as I didn’t know what was better to wait for an ambulance. We waited 25 minutes for an ambulance, with Squeaky screaming and crying, the ambulance had to come from Portree.

The ambulance arrived, Squeaky had not settled, as he was so little and had a huge bump they took us to Broadford, the only hospital on the island with a Doctor on duty. It was an hour away. Mr Gin followed in the car as Graham drove the ambulance and Richard, a very kindly man, assessed the pair of us. He asked if Squeaky would be ready for a feed and suggested to do that. He stopped screaming. Graham avoided potholes as I sat on the gurney looking at the huge swelling on his head.  He stopped feeding and drifted off to sleep. I was worried but Richard said it was fine, he periodically checked that Squeaky would grip his finger and checked for signal so he could call the hospital. We were going to Dr MacKinnon Memorial Hospital as they had a rural practitioner on duty, Dr Alistair Innes, who Richard said was the best person on the island to look at Squeaky. He finally got signal to call the hospital and alerted them we were coming in.

We arrived and checked in a considerably perkier Squeaky and I was starting to feel, along with the huge guilt, that maybe we were over reacting.

We waited and a fellow in scrubs came by and told us were next, we had the stroller of Squeaky and he seemed chilled. A nurse showed Mr Gin, Squeaky and me into their one and only emergency room with a lone bed. She took lots of details and then examined Squeaky’s head. The huge swelling had gone down and Squeaky cried as she prodded the spot. She was not happy with his response and called in Dr Innes to look too. He was not overly happy and sent us off for an x-ray as there is no other scanning equipment on the island.

What followed was heart breaking as Squeaky cried as we had to hold him in position.  This was awful but needful to get the x-rays.

We were called in by Dr Innes to look at the x-rays. This showed a fractured skull. He felt that Squeaky needed a CT scan to rule out bleeding, even though Squeaky was pretty perky and smiley regardless of his ordeal. We knew Inverness was the nearest big hospital, 150 miles away. Dr Innes was not happy to send him there because if there was bleeding he wanted a specialised paediatric team to be there on site. This meant Glasgow, Edinburgh or Aberdeen.  We were scheduled to leave from Edinburgh in two days’ time.  At this moment I was very teary and he stopped the tears by saying, I will call the hospitals, find out who has space and which one the helicopter can take you to.

Helicopter? Yes. Skye only has 4 ambulances running at one time and to take one out for a 10 hour round trip is not feasible and there was no way he was going to allow us to drive him across. We were to wait in one of the 24 beds the hospital had to find out which hospital we were to be flown to.

I was to fly as I was feeding Squeaky; they needed to know how much I weighed. Mr Gin would drive to the holiday house and with my parents pack it all up, and drive to the hospital we were going to. A minimum five hour drive. Squeaky charmed the nursing staff and I waited to be told where we were going to. The isolation of our holiday location really set in.

Dr Innes came back; it was Glasgow, the Royal Children’s hospital part of the Princess Elizabeth hospital. The Helicopter would be in there in an hour. I messaged Mr Gin, ate something and tried not to cry as my little boy played with his doll oblivious to how this day was going. Dr Innes arranged that we would not have to put IV drips into Squeaky and we would not be met with a crash team as he felt that scaring the both of us more would not be needful.

The ambulance crew from Broadford, Ian and John arrived to pick us up and drove us to the airfield. There I watched the helicopter land through the window as I held a sleeping Squeaky in my arms, he sleeps in vehicles well.

The engine stopped and I was introduced to the helicopter crew, Squeaky handed over to Jack and I was buckled in. At this point Squeaky was on a pillow and buckled to me. I had a headset, Squeaky had one but I think it pressed on his head too much. We took off and Squeaky looked scared and then launched into crying. He would not settle, I cried a bit too, it was a noisy, moving environment. I did what I thought was best. I feed him.
 Breastfeeding in a medivac helicopter and four point harness. Scotland flying below me, beautiful mountains and lochs. Squeaky cried every time he came off, in the end he fed for about 40 minutes after that he was so full he fell asleep.  The views were lovely but in the end I was focused on the tiny man in my arms and struggling with feeling guilty that it was my fall that got him here.

Glasgow came into view and I was told that we were landing on the roof of the hospital. Eck!

We landed an experience that is scary and gut wrenching but smooth due to the very good pilot. We waited for the fireman to get us (an onsite guy, it was health and safety), he put us in a wheelchair and rolled us down the crazy ramps to the lifts that took us into the children’s accident and emergency department. I bid farewell to these men who bought us here, feeling a little guilty that I missed half the information due to my stress and their accents.

We were then handed over to Dr Nic, she was lovely and reassuring and checked Squeaky head to toe, getting all his history. She checked his head and said Dr Innes had been very good to pick up there was more than just a bump on the head. She noted that Squeaky was very alert and happy but they would do a CT scan. It was 8pm on a Sunday by this stage.  They were not sure if they would call in the radiographer on call in or wait till the morning. She wanted the consultant on duty to look at him to see which way to go. The consultant, Ms Cameron, felt he should be looked at this evening and called the radiographer in. She then offered to look after Squeaky while I went to the loo. He threw up on her!

The CT scan happened close to 10pm, with Laura (?) who was wonderful, poor Squeaky was not happy being strapped in and she calmed him with a dose of sugar syrup. It was funny watching his eyes light up. I wore a lead apron and held his hand as he was scanned.

Down in the E&A department we waited for the scan to be processed and the report from the radiographer.  We were going to be kept in overnight. I had no signal and only knew Mr Gin had left Skye and was driving across to us and thought he would be there at 1am.

The scan came back that he had a fracture on the right side of his head.  The 3D image showed this clearly but there was no evidence of bleeding! This was good news. We were to be taken up to a ward to spend the night. By this stage it was 11pm and Squeaky was exhausted but not wanting to sleep in the bright and noisy A&E department.


We were walked up to the ward through the staff corridors. I found out the hospital was only a couple years old. It was bright and modern but by this stage both of us were exhausted. We were handed over to the ward staff, and were shown a private room with a cot in it. Also a pull down single bed for me and an ensuite! They found me a sandwich and drink and told me it would be two hour observations as it was a head injury.  I changed Squeaky, fed him and settled him, all sleepy and full and held his hand as he slept when the painkillers took effect.

I had signal and Mr Gin was in Glasgow, in a hotel and coming to the hospital. He arrived after midnight with a bag of clothing for us and my wash bag. I had left Skye in the clothing I was standing up in and change bag for the day. The hospital had already given us some nappies.
Mr Gin left after cuddles and I settled in for the night. In the morning I was tired as Squeaky woke a lot due to wanting to feed for both food and comfort. I didn’t want to give him his normal formula and as a result was a little tired as I didn’t sleep well. I kept seeing his little face before he hit the ground.  Rachel the night nurse was lovely and managed to not wake him too much and didn’t mind when I cried.

I was up for ward rounds and found out they were fairly happy there was not brain injury but hospital protocol was that he would be kept for 48 hours and as he under one with head fracture child protection team would be involved. This made sense but did put our travel plans in jeopardy.
The paediatrician came in later to go over the incident and look at other tests. He was to have an eye test to see if there was any eye damage and possibly an MRI to rule out small bleeds and x-rays to check for any other fractures.

Mum and Dad arrived, with Mr Gin who had lunch for me as I failed at breakfast. Squeaky was very happy and chirpy but grumpy when moved the wrong way. I asked for pain killers for him.
Mr Gin and spoke with the medical team, they were happy with Squeaky’s eyes and our story. They didn’t want to do any more investigations but he had to stay in another night just to be on the safe side.

I had a walk while Mr Gin looked after the lad, then they went off to relax at the hotel. Poor Squeaky was tired and out of sorts, very clingy, very understandable. We played in his cot, on my bed, playing with his toys and some provided by the hospital.  Lots of silly songs and cuddles.

Funny pupils for the eye exam.

He wouldn’t settle for a nap and by the time Mr Gin returned with my dinner I was a little frazzled and Squeaky not wanting to be put down. A doctor arrived to tell us that things were being put in place for a quick getaway in the morning if the night went well.

Between the two of us we got him to sleep in his cot and I hugged Mr Gin a lot before trying to sleep.  Rachel was back and didn’t wake Squeaky when he slept for 6 hours straight.
In the morning I packed up, not sure if we were leaving.

Morning rounds confirmed they were happy for him to leave, child protection where happy that his injuries were accidental and the medical team felt the fracture would heal quickly with no intervention.

It was the quickest discharge I have experienced. They were wonderful. By 9.30am we were out and waiting for Mr Gin to pick us up.

Not the end of a family holiday anyone would want but I do have say this. The care we received was world class. Everyone was caring a reassuring as things escalated. The NHS is amazing, they looked after my beautiful boy so well and made sure he was not too broken. All this because we pay taxes for this service. It is astounding. Also, isolated communities need better services, a CT scanner for the population of Skye and close islands would save a lot of helicopter flights. The Glasgow Royal Children's Hospital and Dr MacKinnon Memorial Hospital, a huge hospital and small hospital are amazing.

I have a lot of guilt with the whole thing, we had agreed early on that Mr Gin would wear sling because my hips meant I fell but I had not fallen for ages and I had worn the sling around a lot, safely. Needless I will not be using the sling again and not holidaying in isolated places for quite some time.

The most important thing, besides a rapidly fading bruise, Squeaky is okay and still amazing.

Adventures in a Palvik Harness.

It has been eight weeks since Squeaky went into his Palvik Harness.
It has been a steep learning curve and also lessons in empathy with my mother.

We learnt early on that pee socks are important with little boys when trying avoid getting pee on a harness you are not meant to take off. We have got very good at wiping him down instead of bathing him. Although this comes more problematic when there is a nappy explosion. More so if you are getting ready to out to a party and you are in your favourite party clothes. Note if you pick up a baby have the legs their babygrow squish under your hand. Call in reinforcements and all wipes you can manage. That particular night was a two person job and taking velcro off and sponging off poo was not as fun as it sounds!
We found dresses work really well especially with the tricky nature of nappy changes, to be fair nappies have been the bigest challenge.
Squeaky himself is pretty happy, he kicks his legs like a footballer and is happy.  Holding him feels odd and you have to careful of where his legs are and we are no longer comfortable sitting in the rocking chair which is annoying.

Our first check up had been delayed a week and we arrived to a doubly busy clinic. Squeaky was scanned and it was felt that his right hip was improving but the subluxated left hip had not. This was gutting news. We took the harness of there and Squeaky was smelly, he had not had a bath for three weeks. We booked in the next consultation, feeling very sad and lots hugs given. Mr Gin and I headed home, with a smelly Squeaky, on a London bus in our own bubble of silence as we absorbed the news. On the way home one the surgeons we had spoken with rang, she had compared Squeaky's initial ultrasound with the one taken that day and said there was a small improvement. She asked that we come back in two days and get Squeaky fitted into a Harness again. We agreed.

We took him home and gave him a much needed bath. He was not all that happy as he stretched his legs out but the bath soothed his legs.  Out of the harness he felt tiny and delicate to hold.

We returned to the hospital, early in the morning, to be refitted. Squeaky was a delight, smiling and giggling and proving that he is resilient by not changing his behaviour over the next two weeks as we settled back into harness routine. We went back to the hospital in two weeks and had another check, again they felt there was minimal change but compared the ultrasounds there in the clinic.  They left in the harness and off we went, knowing that there was improvement but it was very slow and we were looking at  a possible three to five months in the harness.

We had got good at removing the harness by watching the professionals and marking the harness. This meant Squeaky got a bath once a week and when we had a poo explosion a quick wash. A little more civilised.

We went back for the seven week check last week. Again another ultrasound with minimal change. Two surgeons went off and compared the four ultrasounds. The right hip is looking like a normal hip but the left is showing minimal change. It is still subluxated. They recommended that Squeaky come out of the harness and he is booked in for a closed reduction.

The closed reduction will occur in July. They will inject a dye into the joint and manually manipulate the joint into the right position. They check if there is ligament pulling at the joint, if it is, they will cut it. Then they will put him in a spica plaster cast, that goes from his waist to the ankle on the affected side, knee on the other. This is done under general anaesthetic.

We are currently harness free and having to do another wardrobe exchange as a lot of the clothing that went over the harness swamps him now.  He is happy, chirpy self although the first night home in pain due to his legs stretching out.

It has taken me a week to write this because the escalation of Squeaky's treatment is upsetting. I am disappointed the harness didn't work, guilty that my genetics have bred so try and frightened about putting me precious little boy through this. He will be six moths old and having a general anaesthetic, scary. I really hope this works because I don't want him to end up like me and able to remember treatment because it went on so long.

Right now I am trying to focus on enjoying my delightful little boy and introducing him to his Australian grandparents. After they go, we focus on providing the best care and outcome for Squeaky, his hip and long term health.

A new hippy family

Late Janurary Mr Gin and I had a bright, gorgous boy. He was born via a fairly uneventful c-section besides the theatre staff stopping to check out my hip replacement tattoo. It was a spinal procedure and Mr Gin was there by my side and got to cuddle his boy pretty much straight away.
We were home within 24 hours of this process and plunged into the chaotic world of new parents with an almost helpless tiny human with an incredibly loud and wide vocal range.

We have had our highs; solving why he is crying through the process of elimination, finding he is photogenic all the time, cuddles, gurgles and smiles, watching him grow and take notice of the world. Finding all sorts of things adorable including when he has the hiccoups and then squeaks. For this reason, for the purpose of this blog, his name is Squeaky.

We have had some lows too, we have had a struggle with breast feeding which has been very much helped by the resolution of a tongue tie but it took a while to gain back the weight Squeaky lost during those first few weeks where he was not getting enough food. We found this process very tough, me because I was the food source and Mr Gin because he sat through a lot, and I mean a lot, of crying, from me and Squeaky. Mr Gin's incredible support and amazing parenting as well as the wonderful support of the infant feeding team at Homerton we are on track with Squeaky's weight and he is feeding very well. But that was tough and I suspect just a taster for the tough times ahead raising a kid.

This blog has always had a hip focus and I really though that would disappear with the birth of Squeaky when in hospital his hips were checked and declared stable.  We were booked in for a six week ultra sound scan of his hips, an additional check that is done for children with possible contributing factors such as a genetic predisposition and his late breech presentation.

So, I fronted up to the six week scan, not overly concerned and with a relaxed, well fed baby, so he could be stripped down and covered in clear gloop.  I chatted with the staff and as there was a genetic history listed, they asked about my history. Cue mildly horrified faces. They looked at Squeaky's hips and found them to be shallow, not a surprising outcome and I had done research and spoken with Mr Hutt so was prepared with names and hospitals.

Homerton were not taking any chances, they knew my history so instead of waiting till eight weeks they referred Squeaky to the One Stop Baby Hip Clinic at the Royal London Hospital. Both the radiographer and the Paediatrician agreed that this was the best course of action even though most likely over cautious.  Mr Gin and I were very happy with this and waited for the referral to come through. The Royal was a suggestion from Mr Hutt.

The referral was quick and we went to the long name clinic before Squeaky hit 8 weeks old. The paediatric imagining centre at the Royal London is new and swish, bright colours and laser cut plastic bones in geometric patterns. We arrived with a number of other parents with little babies waiting for the clinic.

Doctors began appearing, and Squeaky's name was called and off we went. Squeaky's hips were scanned by a doctor and observed by the head orthopaedic surgeon. I was fairly cool about the whole process until the doctor doing the scan said "That one is not in". I asked her to repeat the statement. His left hip was shallow and almost out to the socket, not sitting well. His right socket was shallow also but in the correct position.

We then dressed Squeaky whilst it was explained that Squeaky was going to being fitted with a Palvik Harness that day and that the harness had a 95% to 98% success rate in cases like Squeaky. We were to come back in 2 weeks to see if the the harness was working and the minimum time in the harness was 6 weeks and maximum was 3 months. The options after that point are a little more dramatic.

We waited for two hours for the fitting, when we got there Squeaky was fitted with something that looks like a costume from the Fifth Element. It holds his legs in the correct position to increase the depth of his sockets and coax the left one into the correct position. He charmed the staff who fitted his harness as he did not cry and was smiley and giggly. We took our little crunched boy home, feeling a little shell shocked.

We had wine that night. Being aware that we could have a tough night as he got used to the harness, we sat and cuddled our little lad. I spoke to my mother about the outcome and she was very supportive as she had been in the same position 43 years ago. In the end my father had the correct reaction to it all, that it was disappointing, we were all hoping that Squeaky would not have my bad hips. I was upset and Mr Gin was his standard sensible self, saying it is what it is and we will cope and it is not as bad as it could be.

The next day I went shopping for clothes to go over his harness because his current wardrobe won't fit over his harness. We felt that dresses would be an easy option and he went shopping with me in a dress I wore as a child! I bought baggy trousers, dresses and baby grows with openings at the bottom and not from the neck to ankles.

Squeaky himself has not shown any issues with the harness being very smiley and happy most of the time, no real change in behaviour including the first night when he slept really well, totally bucking the warnings the staff gave when we left the hospitial.

We are still coming to terms with this outcome and hoping that our visit next week shows that the harness is working and Squeaky only has slightly dodgy hips and not his mum's really dodgy hips.

Two years and now the waiting is coming to a close.

Well, here we are in January. The hip replacement is officially two years old. Yes, two years! Looking back it is almost like a completely different life.
The difference is day and night, almost pain free and wonderful movement. Yes, I am still having issues with the thigh pain, recently I did have two weeks of thigh pain, some of it take my breath away pain, something I have not dealt with for what seems like a long time! There was a couple of moments of having to sit down! I think a lot of that is the strange distribution of my weight with 9 months of baby growth! I have pretty much given up trying not to waddle because normal walking can cause the thigh pain kick off.
The change in the last twelve months is the most amazing, loosing weight, gaining fitness and then excitement of pregnancy. I certainly don't regret getting the replacement, I really didn't think a pound of titanium would change my life so much.
The Pregnancy is going well, I am on maternity leave and currently biding my time waiting for the baby decide to leave or be evicted.
There has been an information exchange between Mr Hutt and the consultant team at Homerton Hospital. Mr Hutt has informed them that hip replacement is fine for a natural birth, I think something that surprised the team, which is helpful because I needed them to understand it is safe but need just a touch more care.
I have decided the option of an epidural is off the table because I want to make sure that I am not put into a position that may upset the replacement. There is a no real risk of dislocation but being able to feel the replacement will give me that reassurance that it is going stay put.  Also that my uber bendy joints are behaving themselves, feeling them is important and making sure they are holding out okay and not being pushed too far.
The pregnancy its self has been fairly uneventful, it took till about 7 months before I looked pregnant which was interesting. I am not the typical basket ball shape and carrying quite wide. This is was worrying me for a bit but my mother carried the same way. Stealth bump!  There was a bleep at about 34 weeks when we realised the baby was in breech position. Breech is not good when you are aware of Congenital Hip Dislocation and that it ups the chances. I did some googling and found the most astounding array of slightly scientific and a lot of witchcraft methods . So I did handstands in the pool and walked a long way and the baby had turned around the 36 week mark. So now we only have genetic predisposition, first pregnancy and possible girl as reasons for CDH!
I have not really enjoyed the whole pregnancy process. The hormones are hard work causing tears over stupid things ie cots, cat vomit or bus not turning up. I have have had rubbish acid reflux due to hormones and my hyperactivity and the acid in my stomach has refused to stay put, mostly when lying down. I certainly am not a glowing earth mother and am a bit over the feeling of being taken over. There s a lot pressure in my body and the wiggling presses in sort places and is disconcerting when you can watch it change the shape of your belly.
The midwives have been lovely and when I burst into tears on one this week she was very supportive. As I am over forty and the there is a distinct rise in the risks of still birth, the hospital do not like you going over 40 weeks. I did research the stats and the jumps are small but they are conclusive there is a risk. So we have had to plan the birth around this, there is no known reasons why the placenta can suddenly fail for women over 40 beyond 40 weeks. So we have a finite date but really would like to the baby leave on their own, so we are back into wives tales and witchcraft.  So there is Raspberry Leaf Tea, bouncing on the gym ball (space hopper) and walking. So far it has not worked.
All though there has been a lot of change in the past two years there has been on constant, and that is the unfailing support of Mr Gin. He has been amazing and full of excitement. I foresee a crazy co-parenting experience for the next 18 or so years.
So, Hippy birthday to my replacement and incoming birthday for January!