I did say I wasn't going to write unless I had something interesting to say but believe it or not, I think I do!!! So, although I'm not going to post as regularly as I once did I have decided that I'll offer my musings now and again.
Recently, 2 scientific stories have caught my eye;
Firstly, it is almost a year since the "Well your cervix is shortening rapidly, if we do nothing you'll probably have them before 26 weeks" discussion with Dr Smith. At the time the official guidance was that, in a twin pregnancy, stitches and progesterone shouldn't be used as there was no evidence that they worked. I was lucky that I had a consultant who was willing to take a punt and throw every possible treatment at me. I am pretty sure that, had she not, then our girls would not be the kicky, giggly, strawberry loving babies that they are today. Well, recently a new piece of research has proven that stitches do work in twin pregnancies, not as well as in single pregnancies but still pretty effectively. I am hoping that this paves the way for a change of guidlines and means that more twin mummys get the chance to take home healthy, thriving, nearly term babies.
Secondly, this article about blood tests for premature labour was published on the BBC website today.
I had 5 hospital stays in my last pregnancy where I could have been in premature labour but wasn't. That was 5 times I had to be admitted to hospital with all the paper work, swabs and general hassle and resources that go with it not to mention the worry. Perhaps this research means that in the future people won't have that extra layer of worry and that they will know if their random pains are actual labour or just Braxton Hics.
Life with my little ladies is wonderful, hectic, but wonderful but I do still miss my boys. I often wonder what they would be like as 8 month olds. Would they devour a strawberry with gusto? Would they love the ducks in the park and laugh hysterically in the Jumperoo? I feel so sad they never got the chance to experience any of these things.
Grief is a hard thing to describe. I'm pretty sure to most people I meet I look like a happy, if knackered, first time mum out with her babies. I don't think I radiate bereaved mother vibes. Someone posted this brilliant analogy on another website and I thought it hit the nail on the head.
Grief is like a ball in a bucket. To begin with it fills every space, and there is no room for anything else. But over time the bucket grows. It becomes a room, than a floor, then a whole house. The ball never gets any smaller, but your life grows and you have more space to move around your ball. With time there are days when you may not see the ball at all. Other days you open a door in your life and it trips you up. Some days it corners you. But with time you have more space to move the ball out of the way. Other people believe that the ball grows smaller and smaller and eventually vanishes. That is not the case. It will always be the same size.
Well, I'm pleased to report that, thanks to my brilliant family and friends, my bucket is growing and I'm pretty sure that it will continue to!
To finish. I really love this song. It isn't my usual type of music at all but I think the lyrics are fab... just a sweet little song that reminds me of my 4 lovely children!
