Early in my pregnancy, I had a battery of tests to investigate my rash (remember that?). It was all a bit worrying. My GP called me in to discuss the results but they found nothing other than a mild infection which they insisted on treating with antibiotics to my intense chagrin. My chagrin became even more intense when my gynaecologist subsequently said that it probably wasn’t necessary to take the antibiotics and my friend the heart surgeon said likewise (I had elevated protein in my urine for my whole pregnancy and it was fine she said, mind you, this is the woman who had to take STEROIDS while pregnant so really I don’t know why she was worried about a few old antibiotics). As one of these odd people who won’t take a paracetemol when pregnant, it really went against the grain to take a course of antibiotics. It was also quite difficult because I was throwing up every five minutes and I had to try very hard not to throw up after taking my pills. However, the antibiotics didn’t do any harm, though I’m not sure they did any good either. In any event the rash cleared up by itself eventually.So that was that.
I was surprised to get a slightly panicked message from my GP a couple of weeks later. When I called her back, she said that she needed to see me immediately. I zoomed off to her surgery. Most of the tests they had done were rash tests but they had also done standard pregnancy blood tests for the hell of it. In the excitement over the rash tests and the antibiotics, everyone had forgotten to look at the pregnancy blood tests. My GP had just noticed that I had tested positive for CMV.
Cytomegalovirus is commonly contracted from the urine of small children. It is therefore unusual to catch it before a first pregnancy. Women who have not been exposed in infancy, usually get it after their first baby and before becoming pregnant with their second. If you’re not pregnant, the worst it will do to you is give you flu like symptoms and you may have no symptoms at all. If you are pregnant, the effects on the foetus or foetuses can be very serious and there is no recommended treatment. I suppose because there is no treatment, CMV is not routinely tested for in Ireland, the UK, the US or France. I’m not sure what the situation is in other jurisdictions. In Belgium, they do test for it and as my GP explained to me, the standard practice, if you test positive, is to terminate the pregnancy and try again.
I remember sitting there and feeling as though someone had pinned me to the chair with a heavy weight. My GP was saying that though her last patient who had contracted the virus had terminated her pregnancy, she had had other patients who had gone on to have healthy babies. But it’s twins I thought – how could we cope with two handicapped children? How would it affect our little girl? And continued the GP the patient who had the termination was very unstable. I recommend that you continue the pregnancy. I sat up straight and tried to look stable and not burst into tears. She sent me running round the city for further blood tests, all of which confirmed the initial results.
As you will be aware, a little google is a dangerous thing. That night we combed the internet for information. We found a chat room for parents of infected children. My God those poor kids were so sick. I remember thinking that now before they are born may be the only time these children will feel well. Our internet researches also indicated that in the case of twin pregnancies, if one twin got it, the other was likely to get infected also. I felt very guilty. I swear I am a thorough hand washer but if the Princess had not been in the creche, it’s likely I’d never have caught it.
We went to see my gynaecologist together. She is not a panicker and she was as upbeat as she could be. She confirmed the odds in our favour (60% chance that the babies would not be infected) as found by us in our internet researches. She confirmed that catching CMV in the first trimester was the worst time but she also said that this was when the placenta was strongest so this was when there was the best chance of the infection not passing at all. She said that it had been standard practice in the past to terminate pregnancies where the mother was infected with CMV. However, practice had changed and doctors now believed that it was wrong and unethical to terminate all pregnancies on the basis that the infection might be passed on in some cases. She spoke about some of her other patients who had been infected. One woman had a child who was mentally handicapped “she was fantastic with Gaultier, but, yes, it has been hard for her”. I didn’t feel I could be fantastic. She spoke about patients who had had deaf children following an infection and how well those children spoke and used sign language. She said that the previous week she had carried out a termination at 20 weeks on a patient whose infected baby had microcephalus. We discussed having an amniocentisis. This could show that the infection had not passed, however, even if it indicated that the infection had been transmitted to the foetuses, this would not necessarily indicate that they had been harmed by it. One of the particularly unpleasant things about CMV is that, if a foetus is infected, adverse effects may not become apparent until up to 3 years after birth. So the amnio could show that we were in the clear, or not. Either way, we were going to continue the pregnancy and since, apparently, the risk of spontaneous abortion following amnio for twins is 5% (as opposed to 0.5% for a single foetus), it just didn’t seem worth it to us.
We talked a lot about what we would do, if a scan showed serious handicaps. We decided that we would probably proceed with the pregnancy. I had lots and lots of scans and every one of them was an agony of suspense until the doctor uttered the magic words “I don’t see any trace of CMV on this scan”. The scan can’t show everything of course (for example, deafness wouldn’t show) but it was ruling out a really serious and horrific handicap.
I thought about CMV constantly. It lent a certain perspective to my life. The week before I heard the news, the Princess had broken her tooth and I was most put out. I subsequently realised that perhaps a broken baby tooth wasn’t quite the catastrophe I had thought. I went out for lunch one day with a colleague and a very unpleasant consultant he had working for him. The consultant told a series of unsavoury and unfunny jokes about mental handicap. Normally I would have found this
unpleasant, but in the circumstances, it almost reduced me to tears. We reconsidered our plans. We had intended to move home to Ireland in the next couple of years, but, if the babies had a handicap, we would have to seriously consider staying in Belgium for the long haul because education facilities and supports here are so much better than at home. I found myself looking at mentally handicapped children and their parents. How did they cope? How did these children interact with others and, in particular, with their siblings? Things like this made me cry. And people kept asking me “How are the babies?” What could I say only fine but every query depressed me. We decided that we wouldn’t tell anyone except our parents. There was enough misery about and, I suppose, we didn’t want people constantly asking whether there was news or not knowing what to say.
As the pregnancy progressed, I found myself trying to believe my husband’s reassurance that the numbers were on our side and also that he had always lived a charmed life and it wasn’t about to change now. In the back of my mind, however, I kept thinking, superstitiously, that I’ve always been very fortunate and maybe I was due some monumental misfortune.
When the babies were born, the preliminary tests were negative for infection but positive for antibodies, so inconclusive. The boys had hearing tests and brain scans. Everything was fine but that didn’t mean everything would stay fine. The urine tests would be conclusive and they took weeks. I was too scared to ring the paediatrician to find out the results. My husband called,
he frowned, I was terrified. He hung up. “Only Michael’s results are in”. “And?” “And he’s fine”.? Apparently, he does live a charmed life. Our internet research made us feel that if Michael was clear, Daniel was likely to be clear also and last week, Daniel was confirmed as CMV free. I know it’s a cliche but it really was like waking up from a bad dream and realising that it was only a dream. Euphoria is very good for overcoming exhaustion. I recommend it.
I can’t help wishing that I’d never known in the first place which would have been the case had I been pregnant in Ireland, but I suppose it has opened my eyes to an extent to the rights and needs of handicapped children and their parents. I feel so, so lucky. My gynaecologist, who at each appointment regularly chanted her mantra “mieux avoir la merde avant”, had dutifully delivered on her promise of a perfect birth and perfect babies (NOT a promise she would have made in litigious Ireland); we’ve decided to reward her by putting her on our Christmas card list.
on 15 November 2005 at 10:45
on 15 November 2005 at 10:49
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 10:54
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 10:57
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 12:59
Sweetie(s) given
Glad your story has a happy ending but it sure makes you wonder what if…
on 15 November 2005 at 15:04
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 15:08
Luck and happiness xxx
Sweetie(s) given
Mark Schenk
on 15 November 2005 at 15:56
on 15 November 2005 at 16:48
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 17:03
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 20:51
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 21:29
(And this post made me well up)
Sweetie(s) given
on 15 November 2005 at 23:49
Sweetie(s) given
on 16 November 2005 at 08:48
Sweetie(s) given
Early Days
Since the arrival of the boys, the Princess likes to hear stories about when she was small(er) and while her grandparents were over, I told her the story of grandad’s lost underpants which I have previously blogged about but which I repeat below for your delectation:
My father-in-law, the captain of industry, resorted to handwashing. However, my mother-in-law determined that the capt’s clothes would never dry in the shower and put them on the balcony, from whence “a garment†drifted down into the private area of the guesthouse. A couple of days later I was witness to the exquisitely embarrassing moment when the lady of the house asked my poor mortified father-in-law whether the garment she was holding between outstretched finger and thumb belonged to him.
The Princess liked the story and now, regularly, when I put her to bed she says, “Tell me the story of grandad’s underpants again.”
By the by, I have found a pair of black men’s underpants nestling under the heater in the spare room. I wonder whose they are?
In other news, the boys are six weeks old today. The books tell us that we may confidently expect smiles from now on. I suspect that Faith and G are much more likely to get first smiles as they tend to gaze at the boys lovingly while feeding them while their nearest and dearest tend to read the papers. Oh have a heart, we’re still knee deep in newsprint from the parent-in-law visit and somebody has to read all those Guardians.
Example of dialogue with husband:
Me: Whenever I see you with one of the babies, I’m reminded of that bit from Hilary Clinton’s autobiography (which we listened to on tape while on holiday one Summer, NOT recommended, hugely tedious).
Him: The bit where she talks about the cold meat selection at Nelson Mandela’s inauguration?
Me: No.
Him: The bit where they fill the swimming pool in India with mineral water for her?
Me: NO.
Him:Oh alright the bit where Chelsea bites Bill on the nose to try to get his attention.
Comments
giftofthegab
on 07 November 2005 at 17:23
how do you know the pants belong to a black man? oh wait, i see. i’m also agog. happy 6 weeks!
jackdalton
on 07 November 2005 at 21:06
Probably Locote’s…
belgianwaffle
on 08 November 2005 at 08:10
Minks, er, it’s not 6 weeks, clearly my focus isn’t all it might be.
GoG, very funny, maybe my syntax does need some work though…
JD, I beg your pardon??
A Visit
The in-laws are coming on Thursday. Great excitement. I received an email from my father-in-law as follows, comments are in italics:
Hello there
Reading between the pixels, things may be more than a little hectic, even with help. It may be a Freudian slip, but the lack of a mention of Princess might mean that she is becoming more attuned to the new arrivals (or just spending time at the crèche). Au contraire, madam continues to regard the new arrivals with
disdain. Yesterday I spoke to my brother and he asked after her and her views on the new arrivals. I said that she liked them. Later when I reported this conversation to herself she said in tones of great disgust “But Mummy, I DON’T like the babies.
Anyway, for what it is worth, grandma and I are getting measured for our cavalry uniforms, practicing the bugle, buying prezzies and the like. We will be ready for our gallop to the relief of the Fort, way out in the Belgian desert. Really looking forward to the visit, to do good works and drink a few beers. Beer, beer?
He thinks there will be beer? I doubt it, it will be constant baby and toddler minding duty for the royal
grandparents here at baby bootcamp.
Locotes
on 24 October 2005 at 12:58
Surely even a little beer during babysitting duty can be allowed? Have a heart…
Minkleberry
on 24 October 2005 at 20:48
make sure you sit down a lot!
belgianwaffle
on 25 October 2005 at 11:52
HJB, their sufferings are about to begin. Loc, under no circumstances, they are here to work. No beer on the chain gang. Minks, most certainly.
poggle
on 25 October 2005 at 13:20
Go girl – head for tham thar hills!
Two stars are born
A number of people asked me whether I had a “natural birth” with the boys. Did I have a caesarian section? No. On the other hand, does the picture below look natural to you?
My epidural arrived before my first contraction – the doctor was summoned from his bed at 6 in the morning, and proper order too. Labour was painless and took place between 9.00 and 3.00. It made me vomit though and vomitting as you lie on your back being wheeled along hospital corridors towards the delivery room is suboptimal. Daniel was born at 3.15 a strapping 3.03 kilos and, in what I fear may well be a pattern for life, nobody worried about him. Michael was delighted with the extra space available and turned sideways. Two burly midwives grabbed his little person and from the outside manoeuvered him into head down position while I looked on in horror and my doctor grabbed for his head (she had a lovely time in Croatia, thanks for asking).
She told me later that she thought that she’d have to an emergency caesarian and she had asked the nurses to call the anaesthetist without mentioning his name – in case I gathered that that was why he was being called. I am touched by her faith in my intelligence and powers of concentration. Anyhow, Michael was born at 15.39 and though on the light side at 2.2 kilos, he was absolutely fine. The potential caesarian, also explains why the anaesthetist turned up immediately after Michael was born and chatted away to myself and Mr. Waffle for no reason we could understand at the time. As I threw up into my little kidney bowl, I did wonder vaguely whether it was some kind of revenge for getting him up at 6 in the morning. He’s Lebanese and we were talking about the situation in the Middle East between vomits, and it was a little challenging. “Syria is not good” was about all I could summon to mind at that precise moment and even I knew that to be inadequate. I wouldn’t mind but I’d struggled through a long article in the LRB only recently not to mention having read “Pity the Nation” by Robert Fisk when I was in college.
To summarise, the stay in hospital was for a full week and despite constant interruptions (meals, nurses, obstetrician, paediatrician, physio, woman to throw out dead flowers, cleaner, tea lady morning and afternoon, water delivering lady, the odd visitor etc.), I felt pretty well. I think this was partly because, as a bad mother, I roomed out and mixed breast and bottle. Doubtless I will be chucked out of the Brussels Childbirth Trust.
It is very nice to be home though. Delighted with kind bloggers’ reactions, also flowers, cards, presents, emails and a beautiful new watch from my loving husband. Also lovely to see a bit more of my little girl (not too much more, mind, she’s still going to the creche every day). My mother has, alas, decamped to Cork where she deemed that my father’s need was greater than ours. I suppose she knows – she’s been married to him a while; in fact the boys were born on my parents’ 38th wedding anniversary.
on 06 October 2005 at 15:33
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 06 October 2005 at 16:42
Glad all is well – good to see you’re back blogging a week later – jolly good show.
Am I reading the clocks right in that the 2nd wee lad decided to join us a full 12 hours later? Poor you. All’s well…etc, though.
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 06 October 2005 at 22:48
Sweetie(s) given ���
I’m glad you’re back! I can’t believe you have twins now!
on 07 October 2005 at 07:15
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 07 October 2005 at 13:38
Well done Mrs Waffle ….
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 07 October 2005 at 16:24
Your new boys are so handsome, congratulations to all the Waffles.
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 07 October 2005 at 16:36
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 07 October 2005 at 23:38
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 10 October 2005 at 08:56
Star, indeed you should not! Thanks for congrats.
Loc, no, no, second joined about half an hour after the first – clearly my mastery of the 24 hour clock isn’t all it could be.
SJ, that would make two of us.
Well, Minks, somewhat guiltily, I am mixing breast and bottle, cos I just can’t manage to breastfeed them both at the same time and doing them sequentially would mean that I would have to spend all my time under a baby…
Pog, I know, but great stuff the old epidural all the same.
Beso, many thanks, and thanks for the sweeties also.
Roach, thank you.
Beth, thank you – am impressed that you are taking time out to check on other blogs!
Negrito – for good or for the weekend?
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 10 October 2005 at 21:45
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 11 October 2005 at 16:46
Sweetie(s) given ���
on 12 October 2005 at 09:48
Sweetie(s) given ���
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Caption Competition
The Princess went to see her subjects (or co-princes) in the hospital again. The visit passed off without incident (only because we hid the thermometer).
Caption competition: what is Princess doing to baby Michael ? And what is he saying? A sweetie for the best caption…
formerfilmexpert
on 30 September 2005 at 22:14
Does this make his hands move?
Kathy
(Homepage)
on 30 September 2005 at 23:03
I thought it was baby Michael talking:
“Oh, great. Here comes that kid who sticks his finger in my ear. Yeah, come on, buddy. Keep it up. One day I’ll have motor control, you know.”
Kathy
(Homepage)
on 30 September 2005 at 23:04
Waahhh!!! I wasn’t paying attention. Of course it’s more like:
“Oh, great. here comes that kid who sitcks HER finger in my ear. Yeah, come on Princess, keep it up. One day I’ll have motor control, you know. And don’t you try to kiss me, either. Blech.”
kristin
on 02 October 2005 at 21:54
Princess: [in american gangster voice] “This is my sceptre, see? And if you and your little double don’t do what i tell you to, i’ll put it in your ear like this, see? So youse better do what i tell you to.”
Prince: ‘Oy! Oy!’
Sarcastic Journalist
(Homepage)
on 03 October 2005 at 05:17
Princess: “And this, Michael, is how babies are made.”
Michael: “That’s not quite how I remember it.”
geepeemum
on 03 October 2005 at 10:21
“But daddy I need to get my sweet back out.” (if only I could type that in French…)
kristin
on 03 October 2005 at 17:28
does this help?
Mais, Papa! J’ai besoin de ma doucette!
(i’m sure that’s wrong. how do you say candy in french?)
Peggy
(Homepage)
on 04 October 2005 at 09:44
Sweet in French would be “mon bonbon” never heard of “doucette” before (is that Canadian French?).
Caption competition “ET phone home”.
belgianwaffle
on 06 October 2005 at 14:21
Gosh you’re all very clever…after much deliberation here in Waffle towers we have decided to award the sweetie to geepeemum. Congratulations on your extraordinary good fortune.
Locotes
on 06 October 2005 at 15:00
I know the competition is over – but I’ve put a LOT of thought into this – and I believe the exact utterances were…
Princess: “Tee hee”
Michael: “Feck off”
a href=”http://www.20six.co.uk/belgianwaffle”>belgianwaffle Waffle Palace tonight announced that the Princess had paid a courtesy call on her new subjects. She prononced herself pleased, and deigned to kiss them on leaving. Although only 36 hours old, the Mrs W was pleased with the way it went, and also very grateful for all the kind comments and sweeties. Bobble Jordana Locotes Looking forward to weary posts about sleepless nights…
Lilo Bobble gracehart belgianwaffle
on 10 October 2005 at 08:56
Oh Loc, a winner if only submitted on time.
First Contact
new princes have caught on to court etiquette quickly: they have given her a number of presents every day, which may have helped them gain acceptance. A diplomatic incident theatened when the Princess attempted to retake possession of her turtle-shaped bath thermometer, but courtiers were able to smooth
things over…
on 28 September 2005 at 22:10
Ooh I have just received some sweetie largess to give to our 20Six new Mums! But it won’t let me give it to you. Be back later *shakes fist at system*
Minkleberry
on 29 September 2005 at 07:55
what a gracious princess
poggle
on 29 September 2005 at 11:05 Just make sure you hide the dolls’ pram – we used to steal my baby sister when Mum wasn’t looking ….. mind you, we always brought her back eventually.
(Homepage)
on 29 September 2005 at 13:26
Congratulations!!! My Internet goes down for a day, and look what I miss. 🙂 I have no sweeties to give, but if I did, I would give them all to you for judicious dispersal among the Princess and her subjects.
May you have joyful days and restful nights.
on 29 September 2005 at 14:50
Serves me right for not spending every waking hour on 20six waiting for updates – I go and miss the main event. Well many many congratulations, you seem to have done a fine job there.
(and congrats to Mr. W as well – ignore whatever herself might say, your role in this was just as important!)
😉
on 29 September 2005 at 21:52
Congratulations to the Waffle family. I hope you’re getting enough sleep.
on 29 September 2005 at 23:16
At last I can give a sweetie x
on 30 September 2005 at 02:32
Lots of blessings to the royal family!! ^^
on 06 October 2005 at 14:18
Thank you kindly for sweeties and good wishes. I feel exceptionally popular!