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!

Be a dear, and pass the morphine, please.

This weekend there was little change in my routine.
Normally it has been a sponge bath as I am not keen on leaping into the shower over the bath at the moment, and then a lot of giggling as my mother has put on my teds. (the stockings to fight blood clots.)
This Saturday, there was a lie in and my mother was down stairs watching the Women’s single finals for the Australian Open.  So, Mr Gin and I decided to wash my hair, something that I have not done since I left hospital. I have a buzz cut, so this is not as bad as it seems and I thankful for the failure of hair dye that resulted in the extreme, easy care haircut.
So, there was leaning over the bath and Mr Gin rinsed out my hair and halted any head long efforts into the bath. Although during this time, he did utter the words, “That is a huge bruise behind your knee.”  He showered whilst I sponged down with my squeaky clean hair.  Then after I dried most of myself, Mr Gin did my lower legs.

Then we got dressed but not before Mr Gin, put my TED stockings on, using the plastic bag method and his strength to make is a very quick effort.  Of course, the mystery bruise was photographed. The final bit was putting on my slippers.

So, why am I telling you this? Because, although, this is all very cute, it is not that sexy. Mr Gin, is being amazing but he is being a carer. He has been my picker upper, carter, bender and occasional clothes putter onner. As a partner, you are used to doing the odd tie, cuff button, dress zip or corset lacing for your love. In our case there was added shoe trying until I got slip on shoes because, I wanted to put on my own clothes.  In hospital, I was focused on being able to dress myself, at least put my own undies on.  But sometime trousers defeat me and Mr Gin helps. It feels odd and although appreciate it wish it wasn't so.

I am feeling pretty helpless at the moment, not being able to carry a glass of water or my own plate of food is demoralising and difficult. I know it is early days but still. Mr Gin is happy to help out but it is difficult for him too, he is tired, as he is doing a lot of the things I would do, my share of the cooking and cleaning.

Having said all that, he has been amazing, especially in the wee small hours when I'm struggling either with pain or just sheer frustration. On a number of nights he has got up, found painkillers, normally morphine and then held me till I slept. He took half days last week and came home, organised lunch and helped around the house.

There is a shift in our relationship and I'm looking forward to it changing back. For now I am beyond grateful for my big, hairy, bald, funny and silly partner, who four years ago did  not realise nurse was in the relationship agreement and has stuck through one of the most stressful points of my life.

Oh, and that bruise? We think that is from having to use my knee and the lever point to get my hip in and out of joint. It is amazing.

Knee bruise