Hello hello dear friends. Well, we are back from another tootle to the JR and everything seems surprisingly positive. I wondered whether to give you another exciting blow-by-blow account of our trip to the hospital, or to provide a shorter, blander medical summary. In the end I have opted for neither and hearby present the most recent adventures of Baby A in the form of a humorous song to the tune of the hymn 'He Who Would Valiant Be / To Be a Pilgrim.'
Baby A would valiant be, 'gainst all disaster
Kicking me is something he has duly mastered
There's no discouragement, for his spinal indent
Is quite a low segment, which is a good thing
Baby A, he will not hear more dismal stories
Still some fluid in his head; not enough to worry
Feet and kidneys look alright, Walking will be a fight
With braces he just might, which is a good thing
Oh dear I have to go, for an MRI scan
Lots of time in a small space; this much I can't stand
Still boldly I will obey! If it will help Baby A
He is a boy by the way, which is a good thing
I think that sums up our experience in the hospital. Essentially, everything looks good, surprisingly good - if the spinal defect really is that low (very low lumbar-sacral or sacral-only region) which the MRI should be able to tell, there's a chance he might be able to learn to walk unassisted. Very exciting!
The boy thing is great news as it has meant I am able to buy romper suits featuring dinosaurs and fire engines, which I reeeeeally love but would not be appropriate for a female Baby A.
Anyway, what's going on in the non-Baby A part of my life? Well I am on placement which is turning out to be really good fun. I am at St Michael and All Angels, New Marston. The placement has variously involved - praying (lots), drinking coffee (lots), talking to loads of lovely people, going to school assemblies and helping a group of children rehearse Shakespeare's Macbeth (in which I read the lines of Malcolm and ended up being hailed King of Scotland, to my surprise.) I think I could get used to this vicaring thing.
Well, it's 12.40 already and I'm going to Phillipa's for 1.30 and I need to eat my lunch first, so I will leave it at that for today. Next time, perhaps some more theological reflections on Holy Week. Or perhaps some more humorous hymns. Or perhaps a textual party for my Blog's first birthday. We shall see.
Friday 30 March 2012
Monday 19 March 2012
A New Challenge
If you've come here from my Facebook page you'll know that Mr A and myself have been recently rather flipped upside down by the news that Baby A (being quite literally 1 in 1,000) has developed some rather tricky disabilities while he's been cooking away in there.
Sitting outside the John Radcliffe in the sun prior to our 20-week scan on Thursday we were anticipating that the hardest bit of the appointment would be saying "we don't want to know the gender." Fortunately, we managed to achieve that little sentence just fine and the scan proceeded just as expected. Nice little outline of Baby A to which we went "aww..." Some considerable time examining each physical feature (this didn't worry us, we'd been led to expect it would take a while.)
And then the moment when our 'perfect' sick-free pregnancy veered off one way, and reality the next, with the words; "there's something I'm meant to measure, but I can't see it."
Hmm... Anyway, the sonographer said that the failure to see whatever it is was associated with spina bifida, then rushed off to see if a consultant was available to give a second opinion, leaving Mr A and myself looking at each other saying "well, we've heard of spina bifida, but what is it?"
Anyway, after about 10 minutes the sonographer returned and took us up to floor 6 of the JR and sat us in what might be rightly termed a 'bad news room' because it was small with sofas and nice pictures on the wall. Presently we were whisked to another scan room where a very pleasant consultant gave Baby A another once-over and agreed with the sonographer's opinion. She took some pics and showed them to another consultant, who concurred.
So they'd observed a lemon-shaped head, banana-shaped cerebellum and a gap at the bottom of the spine which may or may not be covered with a membrane. These things point to spina bifida. Also a little fluid on the brain which is borderline but may mean hydrocephalus which is commonly associated with SB. For now, they just wanted us to confirm that we'd understood the headlines - severe physical disabilities, probable incontinence, probable learning difficulties of an unquantifiable severity, the option of continuation or termination. Not quite what we had been expecting a couple of hours before.
Well we were obviously shaken. But it was amazing how little time it took us to cheer up. I'm sure most couples have had that chat about 'in what circumstance would we choose to abort?' and we'd always agreed that any chance of the baby living a reasonably happy life is worth a shot. So our only option is to continue with the pregnancy and just pray for the best. We've done a heck of a lot of research in the last few days and have found that outcomes for people with these disabilities vary greatly - there certainly seem to be a lot who manage to live a very fulfilled life. Dame Tannie Grey-Thompson and many other elite paralympic athletes have these conditions.
Our whole outlook on pregnancy has changed in the last few days. Whereas before we were keen not to know the gender, we now hope to find out at the next scan, if only to be able to refer to Baby A as a 'little boy' or a 'little girl' and not 'a poor sick child.' Although we're yet to talk to the hospital about practicalities, a planned cesarean-section before the due date seems pretty likely. Certainly there will need to be a lot of forward-planning as Baby A will need surgery on his/her spinal cord soon after the birth as well as, most probably, a shunt fitted in his/her head to drain the fluid.
You'd have thought we'd be wallowing in sadness, but strangely we're not. The kind words of others have helped cheer us up no end, and now we're ready to look to a future which is just as exciting as before.
Sitting outside the John Radcliffe in the sun prior to our 20-week scan on Thursday we were anticipating that the hardest bit of the appointment would be saying "we don't want to know the gender." Fortunately, we managed to achieve that little sentence just fine and the scan proceeded just as expected. Nice little outline of Baby A to which we went "aww..." Some considerable time examining each physical feature (this didn't worry us, we'd been led to expect it would take a while.)And then the moment when our 'perfect' sick-free pregnancy veered off one way, and reality the next, with the words; "there's something I'm meant to measure, but I can't see it."
Hmm... Anyway, the sonographer said that the failure to see whatever it is was associated with spina bifida, then rushed off to see if a consultant was available to give a second opinion, leaving Mr A and myself looking at each other saying "well, we've heard of spina bifida, but what is it?"
Anyway, after about 10 minutes the sonographer returned and took us up to floor 6 of the JR and sat us in what might be rightly termed a 'bad news room' because it was small with sofas and nice pictures on the wall. Presently we were whisked to another scan room where a very pleasant consultant gave Baby A another once-over and agreed with the sonographer's opinion. She took some pics and showed them to another consultant, who concurred.
So they'd observed a lemon-shaped head, banana-shaped cerebellum and a gap at the bottom of the spine which may or may not be covered with a membrane. These things point to spina bifida. Also a little fluid on the brain which is borderline but may mean hydrocephalus which is commonly associated with SB. For now, they just wanted us to confirm that we'd understood the headlines - severe physical disabilities, probable incontinence, probable learning difficulties of an unquantifiable severity, the option of continuation or termination. Not quite what we had been expecting a couple of hours before.
Well we were obviously shaken. But it was amazing how little time it took us to cheer up. I'm sure most couples have had that chat about 'in what circumstance would we choose to abort?' and we'd always agreed that any chance of the baby living a reasonably happy life is worth a shot. So our only option is to continue with the pregnancy and just pray for the best. We've done a heck of a lot of research in the last few days and have found that outcomes for people with these disabilities vary greatly - there certainly seem to be a lot who manage to live a very fulfilled life. Dame Tannie Grey-Thompson and many other elite paralympic athletes have these conditions.
Our whole outlook on pregnancy has changed in the last few days. Whereas before we were keen not to know the gender, we now hope to find out at the next scan, if only to be able to refer to Baby A as a 'little boy' or a 'little girl' and not 'a poor sick child.' Although we're yet to talk to the hospital about practicalities, a planned cesarean-section before the due date seems pretty likely. Certainly there will need to be a lot of forward-planning as Baby A will need surgery on his/her spinal cord soon after the birth as well as, most probably, a shunt fitted in his/her head to drain the fluid.
You'd have thought we'd be wallowing in sadness, but strangely we're not. The kind words of others have helped cheer us up no end, and now we're ready to look to a future which is just as exciting as before.
Tuesday 6 March 2012
Being Up Front
This week at my placement church I led the 8am and it was... OK. I did not fall over or drop anything. I did not pronounce any words wrong. I did not break down in tears. Essentially, I did not embarrass myself and this is a good thing!
My colleague on placement described it as a "Fresh Expression of the 8am Eucharist" on account that I did everything except the consecration prayer and the blessing. This, to me and to him, felt a little bit odd as normally the Priest would take over at "the Lord is here..." rather than at the consecration prayer, but that's what they asked of me so that's what I did. Feedback-wise, I was told to speak up and 'lead' more - "God has called you to lead, so don't be afraid to lead" said my placement supervisor and I think this is sound advice - confidence will always be my biggest challenge.
One of the things I found most difficult was having to wear a cassock and surplice during the 'chat and eat a croissant' section of the morning. And not just because of the obvious practical difficulties of eating a croissant while wearing those big flappy sleeves. Up-front I find liturgical garb essentially helpful - it aids me to put on my 'I'm leading this service' hat. But after the service I just want to be 'me' and would much rather be wearing my normal clothes. The only trouble is, as clergy, you can't nip into the vestry for 5 minutes to defrock at the end of a service. Do this and you've missed the opportunity to say a few words to the couple who have come for the first time, sat on the back pew, and will inevitably make a dash for the door before the last note of the final hymn has died away. So there's no question; I have to get more comfortable with the wearing of liturgical clothes. I expect I'll have the same quandary with the clerical collar, but fortunately I've still got 18 months or so before I cross that sticky bridge.
This experience will, I hope, prepare me for my 'Easter' placement which is now less than two weeks away. Having never preached before, it appears from the timetable I am to be preaching/offering some words of meditation, four times during my placement, including three times in Holy Week. I'm ever so excited about this, and grateful they've given me the opportunity. It's going to be a huge learning experience.
My skills in being 'up front' haven't just been tested in the last couple of weeks by the 8am. I've done a presentation to the MTh. It was about my 'resurrection body' question. I compiled a snazzy PowerPoint with images of St Paul flying in with a speech bubble. The feedback was generally good, and I've got quite a few things to think on. Despite what I inferred in the last post, I think this essay is far from finished. Fortunately, the confusing situation surrounding the approval of my second essay on baptism (can't remember whether I mentioned this before but it's far too boring and complicated to explain) has now been resolved, and I'm going to have to submit it in September, not April as I had planned. This is probably a blessing in disguise and I now feel a lot more calm about the amount of work I've got to do over the next few months.
The final, happy news of the week is that my good chum Kate has finally 'gone public' about being pregnant. She's almost exactly 5 weeks behind me. I've known about this since the day she found out (as she had me) and she's been a brilliant support to me. Nice to know I'm not the only pregnant ordinand at RCC!
My colleague on placement described it as a "Fresh Expression of the 8am Eucharist" on account that I did everything except the consecration prayer and the blessing. This, to me and to him, felt a little bit odd as normally the Priest would take over at "the Lord is here..." rather than at the consecration prayer, but that's what they asked of me so that's what I did. Feedback-wise, I was told to speak up and 'lead' more - "God has called you to lead, so don't be afraid to lead" said my placement supervisor and I think this is sound advice - confidence will always be my biggest challenge.
One of the things I found most difficult was having to wear a cassock and surplice during the 'chat and eat a croissant' section of the morning. And not just because of the obvious practical difficulties of eating a croissant while wearing those big flappy sleeves. Up-front I find liturgical garb essentially helpful - it aids me to put on my 'I'm leading this service' hat. But after the service I just want to be 'me' and would much rather be wearing my normal clothes. The only trouble is, as clergy, you can't nip into the vestry for 5 minutes to defrock at the end of a service. Do this and you've missed the opportunity to say a few words to the couple who have come for the first time, sat on the back pew, and will inevitably make a dash for the door before the last note of the final hymn has died away. So there's no question; I have to get more comfortable with the wearing of liturgical clothes. I expect I'll have the same quandary with the clerical collar, but fortunately I've still got 18 months or so before I cross that sticky bridge.
This experience will, I hope, prepare me for my 'Easter' placement which is now less than two weeks away. Having never preached before, it appears from the timetable I am to be preaching/offering some words of meditation, four times during my placement, including three times in Holy Week. I'm ever so excited about this, and grateful they've given me the opportunity. It's going to be a huge learning experience.
My skills in being 'up front' haven't just been tested in the last couple of weeks by the 8am. I've done a presentation to the MTh. It was about my 'resurrection body' question. I compiled a snazzy PowerPoint with images of St Paul flying in with a speech bubble. The feedback was generally good, and I've got quite a few things to think on. Despite what I inferred in the last post, I think this essay is far from finished. Fortunately, the confusing situation surrounding the approval of my second essay on baptism (can't remember whether I mentioned this before but it's far too boring and complicated to explain) has now been resolved, and I'm going to have to submit it in September, not April as I had planned. This is probably a blessing in disguise and I now feel a lot more calm about the amount of work I've got to do over the next few months.
The final, happy news of the week is that my good chum Kate has finally 'gone public' about being pregnant. She's almost exactly 5 weeks behind me. I've known about this since the day she found out (as she had me) and she's been a brilliant support to me. Nice to know I'm not the only pregnant ordinand at RCC!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)