Week 16: Operation Tiny

This is Tiny. She's a small soi dog living on the polluted mayhem of Rama IV road, near our old serviced apartment. When we first met her, we had a load of barbecued chicken we wanted to get rid of. She was so skinny - most definitely the best soi dog candidate. She ate the lot very daintily. Then Fatt started feeding her almost every evening. Sometimes she would eat ravenously, other times she wouldn't have the appetite but would look in our eyes and lick our hands in sweet affection.

Fatt took her to the vet because we thought she might have worms. While pretty active, she wasn't putting on weight. The vet said it may be worms, but more likely a very bad kidney with readings way off the chart. The vet wondered how Tiny could still be alive.

It's been about 3 weeks since we moved away. Fatt still went to see her about once a week and then he asked me to let her move in. She had no energy, could barely wag her tail and was now super-skinny. He thought she might die very soon.

While not over-keen to have a sick/dying dog on the premises, I agreed. So Fatt put her in a cardboard box, grabbed a taxi and made it over to our flat. She emerged, shaky and holocaust-thin, wary of her surroundings. Fatt gave her a good scrub.

As he had to work during the day, I was left to 'look after' Tiny. She wouldn't eat and hardly drank any water. She is still the sweetest dog, but very stubborn - won't be led by a lead. While still able to wag her tail, in general she's lacklustre, completely without energy.

I feel sorry for her, but have to balance that with needing to make sure I'm notgoing to catch anything which could harm the baby. I'm not a natural with dogs. I began to read experiences of tick infestations of the home and got very paranoid about her. At the same time, I'm sure she's not happy to be cooped up indoors.

But I still have to remember her lovely nature and the hard life she must have had so far.

On the weekend, Fatt took her to the vets. They're keeping her overnight on a drip. Hopefully she'll be OK...

Week 15: Fatt's fads

The weather has cooled a bit - it's bliss.

Fatt is currently going through a fad: home improvements. He's determined to stay at our new apartment for a good while and make it our own. Hence off to every home improvement store he can think of, plus, he's discovered Chatachuk Market has some great deals on beautiful furniture.

Some would call this the provider or nesting instinct. But I'm pretty sure it's one of his fads and it will pass very soon - certainly sooner than thinking about the baby room.

I can't fit into one of my favourite pair of trousers. And I definitely don't need a belt anymore.

At the Bambi meet today, a lady was demonstrating baby massage. So there were all these babies sprawled on the floor being gently pummelled by their mums. Very cute......

Weeks 13 & 14: Lows & Highs

I'm sure I've got the beginnings of a bump, but my brother says he'd need a microscope to see it.

A mixed week.

The lows:
- headaches
- massive gagging fit in McDonalds - to the extent where I was swallowing down my own vom cos I didn't want to spew everywhere
- strange sewer-like smell in the main bathroom
- ants in the kitchen. (They creep into the fridge and then promptly die of hypothermia)

The highs:
- all-day nausea has abated - which means I can get out and about.
- cooking my own comfort food
- getting my first bit of exercise in 3 months: pre-natal yoga. I got dizzy at the breathing opener and was absolutely knackered after. I'm in parlous physical condition. But it's a first step.

Week 12: Give us a wave!

The little legs wiggled away, the cheeky arms waved and the body flipped around. Here is our little one at 12 weeks and 7cm long! For those unfamiliar with scans, the baby's head is the ginormous blob on the right. It has a tubby little body with one arm raised, and one leg raised. White parts are the bony areas e.g. spine.

I had been feeling so miserable over the past few weeks and my feelings towards being pregnant were, frankly, ambiguous. But seeing the ultrasound and this little being jostling and twisting - well, as cliched as it is - the reality struck home and all the misery disappeared (at least for a couple of hours).

We actually wanted to check the risk of Downs Syndrome. So the terrific lady who did the scan was carefully taking minute measurements at the back of the baby's head (nuchal fold). It took a wonderful hour as we lapped up the footage. Fatt was quite moved by the experience.

According to the measurements, the estimated risk of Downs has been reduced from 1 in 200 (given my age of 35), to 1 in 600 (but with a 10-20% probability of these estimates being absolute poppycock). I'm not sure how I would feel if the stats had been different. Suffice to say, I'm pleased that I don't have to think about it.

The scan was fantastic, but a dampener on things was the ob-gyn experience once more. I'd made the appointment 2 weeks previously with a recommended doc who had already confirmed my age. We had to wait an hour to see him. One of the frustrating things you can hear from a nurse in a Thai hospital is something that sounds like 'sakoornikha' meaning 'please wait a moment' (I think). That really means please wait anything from5 minutes to an hour. You have to be very pushy to find out EXACTLY when will the doc be free? I wouldn't mind waiting if this was the NHS, but this is supposed to be one of the best private hospitals in Thailand.

At last we got to see the doc who immediately said, "Oh, you're 35. You shouldn't have the nuchal scan. You should have an amniocentesis." This is where they stick a big fat needle into your uterus and take out some of the amnio fluid to see for definite if there is anything wrong. Usually around 16 weeks. But isn't there a risk, I ventured? "Well, the risk of miscarriage is the same as the risk of having a Downs," he answered. And the risk is? 1 in 200. But I don't want to have a 1 in 200 risk of miscarriage just to find out if there is something wrong with my child.

"You don't need to decide now," he said. "Go do some research on the internet and then decide." Frigging hell. I felt like screaming at him: Aren't you the doctor? I have to do the research?

"So why did we come today?" Fatt asked rather pointedly. The doctor almost shrugged. "You can still have an ultrascan to see the baby."

This is how these hospitals like to leech money from you - have yet another ultrascan!!

I decided to follow the UK way: I wanted a Nuchal scan plus a blood test for further accuracy. Fudge the amniocentesis.

After the scan, further unimpressiveness abounded when we asked about other blood tests e.g. for blood count. The doc had gone home, a sour-faced nurse told us. No, she didn't know about these other blood tests. So we told her which ones we wanted. Ten minutes later she said, "But you're also supposed have X, Y and Z tested for too." All of a sudden she knew.

OK, one more bout of unimpresiveness and I promise I won't grumble anymore (at least not in this week). The doc had recommended some tablets for my bad wind. When I checked with a pharmacist, he said that they shouldn't be given to pregnant women....

The important thing is the baby is doing just fine and dandy so far. Cheeky little monkey.

We've moved into our new apartment. Let's hope this all marks a turn for the better in the second trimester.

Week 11: BAMBI

There's a pregnant women's / mothers group for foreigners here called BAMBI. It's an acronym to do with breastfeeding and mothers in Bangkok or something.

Anyhow, they hold a 'bumps and babies' meeting every fortnight, usually with a guest speaker. I'm a bit wary of these kinds of groups... I'm not sure if I want to hang around horsey expat women who complain about their maids all the time.

But thankfully, it wasn't like that at all. On stumbling into the meeting room, a speaker was valiantly trying to get the audience's attention while babies wailed, kids screamed, toys played their ditties and mothers breast-fed. It was refreshingly chaotic, and people were very friendly and ready to recount their experiences and give advice. The support network's been a bit lacking without my friends & family around me here, so it was great to meet other women in the same situation.

The guest speaker was cack though. Talked for ages about how to identify stress but didn't tell you how to deal with it. Instead he left his business cards in case people would like to pay for one-to-one sessions.

Besides BAMBI, the other highlight of the week was re-visiting our old condo. They have a vacant apartment and we think we're going to take it. I felt better immediately breathing in the fresher (relatively speaking) air. Otherwise, the morning sickness has been just about the same.

Week 10: Irregular

If poo makes you spew, then don't read!

Additional morning sickness symptom:

- constipation

I hate not being regular - something ingrained into me since childhood. Pregnancy can mean your bowel muscles don't work as strongly, leading to some, er, blockage.

So when I missed a day, I took some Senna which certainly did the trick. And then some. I was sat on the bog, completely drained as my bowels got to work. Almost semi-fainting and extremely uncomfortable, the whole Senna experience totally knackered me for the rest of the day.

I shall just have to accept the irregularities now. And drink more water.

I also went to see a few flats with an agent. We really need to get out of this shithole (continuing the poo theme) asap. I don't know how long I can stand it. Unfortunately, none of the flats I saw were a patch on the condo we used to live in a year ago, plus, they were decidedly more expensive.

Towards the end of the visits I was feeling decidedly ropey, and it was with much relief on the agent's part that he dropped me off without me vomiting in his nice car.

Week 9: funny turns

The morning sickness symptoms continue and are now accompanied by:

- fainting & dizzy spells
- piles (I think)

Not pleasant.

Fatt restarted work at his old company after almost a year away. We're hoping his bad neck holds out, or we may have to reconsider staying in Bangkok.

The day he started work, I went to lunch at Au Bon Pain at a nearby building. As I bit into my tuna sandwich, I suddenly felt very hot, very sweaty, then all of a sudden very cold and dizzy and faint - just like when you know you have impending diarrhoea and need the toilet now.

Except it wasn't that, but almost a panic attack with my heart racing and trying to keep calm and hoping that I wasn't making a fool of myself, but please, could somebody help me?

One of the waitresses asked if I was OK. No! I told her I was pregnant and not feeling good. She provided me with some kind of menthol inhaler, and this amazingly helped to calm me down.

I still had to stay there about one and a half hours before I felt ready to leave. Immediately bought one of those inhaler things to sniff as I walked the densely polluted road back to the service apartment.

I'm not sure what brought on the panic attack. If it's the baby saying, "You're bloody well not eating this!", or just a psychological trigger of being by myself, with husband nowhere nearby. I don't know, but it was scary and makes me quite hesitant about going out alone.