My sister-in-law is due to have a baby any minute now (well, middle of next month, but still!) and it's veeeeeeeeeery exciting! It's crazy to think back to those last few weeks of anticipation - not knowing what was going to happen, and when and how.
At the same time, an online friend of mine who had a baby the same month that we did is pregnant again. Already. The idea is just crazy to me (I could not imagine going through all that again so soon!), but these two things combined have got me thinking about what I would tell myself the second time around - what do I wish I knew then that I do now?
- rest while you're pregnant. You won't be resting anywhere near as much (even though those first few weeks where the baby sleeps like 20 hours a day might make you think otherwise) so take whatever rest you can get.
- I don't know if reading until 2am in the morning contributed to the baby sleeping all day and being awake all night, but just in case - put that book down and get some shut eye.
- don't freak out about your belly. Two months is too early to be trying to kick back in to crazy exercise (particularly after two years without it!). The weight will come off - a bunch of it in the first week or two, and there will be growth spurts where your body will just let bits of weight fall off. The most important thing you can do is eat well and when you're hungry.
- you'll probably get more stretchmarks, but there's nothing you can really do about it. Try to believe that quote about them actually being kick-ass tiger stripes that you've earned.
- breastfeeding only hurt a bit for the first few weeks. Now, it doesn't hurt at all. The milk will settle, you'll stop feeling like you're always sopping wet, and you don't even really notice the letdown anymore.
- speaking of breastfeeing - while you may be spending 45 minutes each side, many many times a day, it's going to ease up. Around the 3-4 month mark, baby will drop it back to like five minutes, and not always both sides. Enjoy the time you have together, because in a few months it will be a much smaller part of what you do.
- the vomits will also stop after a few months - just get some big, adorable bibs and be careful which way you face the baby. Once solids kick in, it's pretty amazing how quickly the random spewing will just stop. Buy plenty of maternity singlets and try not to freak out if you can.
- don't bother saving special outfits for special occasions (unless you know what the specific occasion is). Babies grow, and it's sad to go through the drawers and find an outfit you forgot you had, that your baby will never get to wear. Besides, they vomit on everything, so you'll be powering through those tiny little suits and shirts.
- your baby will smile and interact. Those first few months are rough, but just consider it to be learning time. Your baby is not dissapointed in you, they just haven't learnt how to express their love for you.
- take photos with the proper camera. They do grow and change so much you won't always see it.
- try and relax. As long as your baby is making lots of wet nappies and is relatively happy, you'll be fine. Call the nurse line if you're worry, and don't be reckless, but worrying is just praying for things you don't want to happen.
Edited to add:- don't worry about the housework! It took you 4-5 months (at the very least!) to be able to get in to a routine and keep the house at a reasonable standard. The mess won't be there forever, and you will only have a few 'free' parts of the day, that you don't have to spend doing housework - have a nap, sort through your clothes, read a magazine, get out in the sun. You will fall in to a pattern and your baby will eventually become more portable and patient.
Tuesday 31 January 2012
Monday 30 January 2012
To market, to market
There's a farmers market that is run here each Sunday morning - you have to be there pretty early to get the good stuff, but you can still rock up at 9 or so and buy plenty of stuff.
We went a few times before the baby arrived, and always commented that we'd be able to go more once the baby arrived, as we'd magically become 'morning people'.
Of course, this didn't happen. And the first six or so months of her life were spent sleeping as late as we could, until lunch time or later (in shifts, obviously).
Now that she's awake and ready to party between 7-9am each day, it's becoming more of a reality. We made it out for two of the last three weekends (the husband kindly let me sleep in last weekend) and it's a really lovely way to start the day.
It's nice to get out, and it's great to pick up stuff that is harder to get at the normal shops - olive oil and sea salt loaves, mock meats, thai basil, giant fresh fruit, A-grade strawberries...
It makes me want to eat more fruit and it makes me want to give the baby more fruit. I can't wait for afternoon tea today so we can cut up that watermelon in the fridge.
Plus, the husband and the baby make an adorable pair as he walks her around in the baby bjorn, soaking up all the complements.
We went a few times before the baby arrived, and always commented that we'd be able to go more once the baby arrived, as we'd magically become 'morning people'.
Of course, this didn't happen. And the first six or so months of her life were spent sleeping as late as we could, until lunch time or later (in shifts, obviously).
Now that she's awake and ready to party between 7-9am each day, it's becoming more of a reality. We made it out for two of the last three weekends (the husband kindly let me sleep in last weekend) and it's a really lovely way to start the day.
It's nice to get out, and it's great to pick up stuff that is harder to get at the normal shops - olive oil and sea salt loaves, mock meats, thai basil, giant fresh fruit, A-grade strawberries...
It makes me want to eat more fruit and it makes me want to give the baby more fruit. I can't wait for afternoon tea today so we can cut up that watermelon in the fridge.
Plus, the husband and the baby make an adorable pair as he walks her around in the baby bjorn, soaking up all the complements.
Sunday 29 January 2012
Pikelets
I remember my dad making pikelets for us when I was younger (I don't remember my mum making pikelets, but I think she made just about everything else!). I can only seem to remember having them when it was rainy, and I remember eating them COVERED in sugar.
I had a recipe for baby pikelets that I thought would make a nice change from the usual breakfasts she's been having, and something special for a weekend. The recipe came from one of the mothers in my mothers group who stayed in QEII for a few nights before her baby was 6 months old, and was a bit taken aback to have the nurses offer her baby cakes and muffins and other grown up things (the nurses said that the second most common reason they have babies come in with them was because of eating issues, when they babies haven't been introduced to solids early enough).
Pikelets/pancakes and I have a checkered past - I have ruined more of them than I have successfully made. A lot of my problems might have come from the fact that my 'easy' six ingredient recipe made way too many, so I would halve the recipe as I went and always get something wrong. Or I would have the pan too hot to start with. Or too cold and it would take forever and then I'd turn it up and it would burn. Or it would stick to the pan. Or it would stick to itself when I tried to flip it.
These pikelets were doomed from the start.
The recipe had like 8 ingredients, and I had no baking powder, so I used bicarb (are they the same?!) and our flour container isn't marked, so I'm not sure if I used plain flour or self raising.
The batter was too thin for the first four, so I added more flour.
Then the husband came out to see why I'd taken half an hour to get her breakfast and indcated I needed to put the pan on the hotter hotplate (counter intuitive to me - see my point about burning everything all the time). The next four were great. The next four burnt. The four after that burnt. Then two of the four after that burnt. Then I was out of batter.
So I sad down with the baby and gave her one to chew on - she thought it was okay, but dropped half of it on the floor. And did the same with the second. And did the same with the third. Then wouldn't touch them anymore.
The husband came back out after his shower to check them out, as I'd told him he'd be eating them for breakfast too (the baby didn't need 20 pikelets for breakfast). But then he saw the plate of burnt pancakes. And he saw how rubbery they looked. And he saw me offering one to the baby and she would turn her head every which way to avoid having it in her mouth.
So I gave her some cottage cheese on toast - little soldiers scattered on her highchair. And in the middle of it, of all of the little pieces of it scattered across her highchair, she picked up a random scrap of pikelet, screwed up her face and spat it out.
Harsh critic.
I had a recipe for baby pikelets that I thought would make a nice change from the usual breakfasts she's been having, and something special for a weekend. The recipe came from one of the mothers in my mothers group who stayed in QEII for a few nights before her baby was 6 months old, and was a bit taken aback to have the nurses offer her baby cakes and muffins and other grown up things (the nurses said that the second most common reason they have babies come in with them was because of eating issues, when they babies haven't been introduced to solids early enough).
Pikelets/pancakes and I have a checkered past - I have ruined more of them than I have successfully made. A lot of my problems might have come from the fact that my 'easy' six ingredient recipe made way too many, so I would halve the recipe as I went and always get something wrong. Or I would have the pan too hot to start with. Or too cold and it would take forever and then I'd turn it up and it would burn. Or it would stick to the pan. Or it would stick to itself when I tried to flip it.
These pikelets were doomed from the start.
The recipe had like 8 ingredients, and I had no baking powder, so I used bicarb (are they the same?!) and our flour container isn't marked, so I'm not sure if I used plain flour or self raising.
The batter was too thin for the first four, so I added more flour.
Then the husband came out to see why I'd taken half an hour to get her breakfast and indcated I needed to put the pan on the hotter hotplate (counter intuitive to me - see my point about burning everything all the time). The next four were great. The next four burnt. The four after that burnt. Then two of the four after that burnt. Then I was out of batter.
So I sad down with the baby and gave her one to chew on - she thought it was okay, but dropped half of it on the floor. And did the same with the second. And did the same with the third. Then wouldn't touch them anymore.
The husband came back out after his shower to check them out, as I'd told him he'd be eating them for breakfast too (the baby didn't need 20 pikelets for breakfast). But then he saw the plate of burnt pancakes. And he saw how rubbery they looked. And he saw me offering one to the baby and she would turn her head every which way to avoid having it in her mouth.
So I gave her some cottage cheese on toast - little soldiers scattered on her highchair. And in the middle of it, of all of the little pieces of it scattered across her highchair, she picked up a random scrap of pikelet, screwed up her face and spat it out.
Harsh critic.
Saturday 28 January 2012
Stay-At-Home Realities
In a similar vein to this post, I also read this last week and I wanted to share (it's part of a question and answer series that is run as part of the blog) - I've bolded the parts that stuck out for me:
Dear Amalah,
I’ve gotten so much guidance from you over the years that I probably owe you my first born. But… I really like him, so maybe we can make a substitution. What’s the current baby to wine exchange rate?
Six months ago I gave birth to a brilliant, adorable, happy baby boy. Being a mom is amazing and exhausting and I absolutely love it. However, I’m a little worried about what this new life phase means for my marriage.
On some level I always knew that becoming parents would change our relationship, but I don’t think I was prepared for exactly how much. There have been positives – I love watching my husband be a father to our son, and he is even more patient and kind, if that’s possible – but on the other hand, I feel like we’re missing that spark. No flirting. No witty banter. No long, engaging philosophical discussions.
I know some of it is hormones, lack of alone time, and sleep deprivation, but after a lot of thought (over-analyzing), I’ve identified two other major contributing factors:
1) SAHMing – I wanted more than anything to be home with this kid, but I didn’t realize how much confidence work gave me. Despite the inevitable frustrations, my job made me feel smart, productive, and valued. In this new role I feel frumpy, overwhelmed, and incompetent. Just keeping my little one fed, changed, and mostly happy takes all my time and energy. All the bonuses to staying home that I pictured – healthy gourmet dinners every night, organized house, clean bathrooms – are just not happening. I’m not interested in spending all day at a desk any time soon, but I want to find something that makes me feel like an accomplished, equal partner to my husband again.
Side note: Did I mention we’re “sharing” one car? Stay-at-home-mom is a literal term for me.
2) Baby word vomit – I cannot stop talking about all things baby. Breastfeeding. Cloth diapering. Sleep plans. Teething. Flame-retardant chemicals in polyurethane foam changing pads. That sleeping baby is quiet… Too quiet… Lemme just go check real quick, then I really want your opinion on the whole polyurethane foam thing.
I can see the desperation in my husband’s eyes to talk about something, ANYTHING else, but I can’t help myself. It’s like I have a compulsive need for discussion and validation of every minutiae of parenting. God, I sound crazy.
So bottom line… Is this a normal phase or can I “fix” it?
Sincerely,
The Not-So-Good Wife
Oh my God, SO NORMAL. And so something I wish every person who thinks the SAHM gig is “easy” or “perfect” or “the right choice for everybody” would read. I mentioned recently that I found a large swath of pros and cons to EVERY arrangement I’ve tried, and your list seriously mirrors mine. A lot.
(Once upon a time, my husband suggested trading in one of our cars and sharing for awhile. Just temporarily, so we could go without a car payment for a few months or so. After thinking it over, I lovingly yet bluntly told him that if I were to spend my days literally trapped in the house without a car — and had to weigh/schedule/screen any potential outings, errands, playdates, etc. against his need to get to work — I would likely make it one week before I stabbed him in the neck with a fork while he slept. Thus, we have remained a two-car family.)
Let me point out one little detail here: Your baby is six months old. I know it FEELS like half a year should be enough time to adjust to such a profoundly huge life and schedule change, but…no. Six month olds are demanding, unpredictable and absolutely a full-time job in and of themselves. Yet the myth that SAHMomming will equal a spotless house and home-cooked meals, PLUS ample opportunities for Mom to write a novel in her “spare” time, or turn some other hobby into a successful business venture, remains pervasive and out there. And it’s driving us all crazy when we realize that most days, staying home with small babies and children actually means overflowing laundry hampers and trying to get out of our pajamas before our significant other gets home.
Also normal: The unsettling feeling that you aren’t an “equal” partner because you aren’t earning money. This is also exacerbated by the do-it-all SAHM myth, since I’m SURE you believed that you’d be adding all this value by being a full-time housekeeper and gourmet chef who ran all the errands and balanced the checkbook WHILE ALSO being a full-time daycare provider who could provide non-stop one-on-one interaction and enrichment and daily outings to the playground for your child. I’m not mocking you for that belief, of course, because no matter how silly and unrealistic it is once you write it all down and re-read it through the lens of what modern parenthood is actually like…I believed it too. (I mean, I was going to do all that PLUS complete a dozen freelance/blogging writing deadlines every week! All by myself! During naptime! HAHAHAHAHA.)
And then the reality is that even if you WERE accomplishing all that, there’s the uncomfy truth that our culture still seriously undervalues “women’s work” like childcare and housework. We can all talk big talk about how important motherhood is and modern feminism is about choices, but then there’s still that tiny nagging voice that still judges our “value” by the number on a paycheck. That we no longer get. Huh.
Point is, I think some of the problems can only be “solved” by letting go of your pre-baby expectations of what staying home would be like and what you are realistically capable of. FOR NOW. Because again: six months old! You will find a rhythm, I promise. It might not be quite the symphony of accomplishment you once imagined, but it will get better.
As for the rest of it — the uneasy feelings re: loss of identity and equal partnership in marriage — well, I can’t offer you some one-size-fits-all magic solution. Just the reassurance that it’s a very common, normal struggle that a LOT of us have muddled through. And that muddling process has taken longer than six months, so cut yourself a break for still feeling a bit off-kilter about it all.
My parents never had more than one car, even though they lived in suburbia, far from buses and public transportation and the only thing within walking distance was a 7-Eleven and a dry cleaners. My mom did it; I have long since come to peace with the fact that I CANNOT. Date nights are also a must for us. We don’t have any rule during them about “no kid talk” or anything on them, but it’s still critical for us to get out of the house together. We eat someplace we wouldn’t take the kids (even if it’s just a super-cheap bowl of ramen or plate of sushi, or anyplace without a grilled cheese on the menu). We see a movie or what the hell, let’s stick around at the bar and have a cocktail until we know for sure the kids will be asleep when we get home.
My blog and social media outlets are a BIG help for curbing that “all baby talk all the time” thing you mentioned — they let me converse with people who DO want to hear about cloth diapers and flame-retardant chemicals, while also usually providing me with a funny link or news story to tell Jason about when he gets home. (Jason, for the record, struggles with not letting HIS job dominate our evening conversations. You talk about what you do all day, be it diapers or software engineering. So I’m usually the one who’s like, what do you MEAN you haven’t seen the Sh*t Girls Say videos yet? Holy crap, open your laptop RIGHT THIS INSTANT IT’S HILARIOUS.)
And I’ll be honest, I eventually figured out that staying home in the traditional sense just wasn’t for me, and focused on ramping up my working-from-home efforts.
Yet, for the record, still and to this day: My house is a damn mess. I am always behind on laundry and am known to move some of the same piles of clutter from surface to surface for months at a time. I have a part-time babysitter who takes over while I write because I am not capable of prolonged multitasking, and would rely on TV too much without her. We used to have a housecleaning service twice a month but stopped that when the babysitter asked for a raise and I knew the kids love and need her more than they care about spotless bathrooms. I have not showered yet and am wearing Old Navy yoga pants and there is a suitcase on the floor over there that I have been meaning to unpack since we spent a night away for my birthday a few weeks ago.
But I got two children up and dressed and fed and off to school this morning, cuddled and nursed my baby and fed him homemade zucchini and brown rice, and got felt up by my husband while we waited for the coffee to brew. Then I got on the computer and fielded emails and sponsored post opportunities and read a wonderful thank-you note from a previous advice-question-asker. Then I wrote this column. The baby and I are planning to meet Jason somewhere for lunch and then hopefully I’ll be able to get some more work done during naptime, before it’s time to meet Noah at the bus.
All told, today is going pretty well, so far. And that’s enough, for now.Repeat after me... "...this too shall pass, this too shall pass..."...
Friday 27 January 2012
Food times five
The baby is on five meals of solids a day.
Breakfast is usually a weetbix with milk (microwaved for 15 seconds) - only enough milk to make the weetbix mushy, as we've received conflicting advice as to whether it is okay for a baby to have cows milk before they're one year old (I believe that as it is not being drunk, nor is it her main 'milk' then it's not a problem). We were giving her either the Rafferty's or Farex mixed with cooled boiled water, but she eats at least 1/4 cup dry, so she was powering through the bags. I also try to give her fruit with her breakfast.
She has morning tea now too - either a Baby Mum-Mum rusk, an arrowroot biscuit, or a homemade apple muffin.
She has lunch, which is either a serve of bought jar food or a serve of homemade food. She will also usually have a baby yoghurt with lunch,
She has afternoon tea - again, one of the three morning tea options.
Dinner is either bought food or home made food (depending on what is in the freezer - this weekend I had made three recipes but two were fish and I didn't want her eating tonnes of fish all day) and usually a piece of toast, maybe some custard or some cheese.
I try to make sure she has grains, fruit, veg, dairy and meat each day.
She has started to demand this food now too. Our day is starting between 7-8:30am as even after a milk feed she is grumbly and ready to eat. And the same happens at dinner time.
I have been still demand feeding her, but had been trying to breastfeed her before I head out places, to avoid having to do it while we were out or her getting grumpt. But the other day she went from 7:30 - 12:30 before she even started to grumble for a milk feed, so I need to let her demand it rather than force it on her (if only she'd stop demanding it overnight!).
Breakfast is usually a weetbix with milk (microwaved for 15 seconds) - only enough milk to make the weetbix mushy, as we've received conflicting advice as to whether it is okay for a baby to have cows milk before they're one year old (I believe that as it is not being drunk, nor is it her main 'milk' then it's not a problem). We were giving her either the Rafferty's or Farex mixed with cooled boiled water, but she eats at least 1/4 cup dry, so she was powering through the bags. I also try to give her fruit with her breakfast.
She has morning tea now too - either a Baby Mum-Mum rusk, an arrowroot biscuit, or a homemade apple muffin.
She has lunch, which is either a serve of bought jar food or a serve of homemade food. She will also usually have a baby yoghurt with lunch,
She has afternoon tea - again, one of the three morning tea options.
Dinner is either bought food or home made food (depending on what is in the freezer - this weekend I had made three recipes but two were fish and I didn't want her eating tonnes of fish all day) and usually a piece of toast, maybe some custard or some cheese.
I try to make sure she has grains, fruit, veg, dairy and meat each day.
She has started to demand this food now too. Our day is starting between 7-8:30am as even after a milk feed she is grumbly and ready to eat. And the same happens at dinner time.
I have been still demand feeding her, but had been trying to breastfeed her before I head out places, to avoid having to do it while we were out or her getting grumpt. But the other day she went from 7:30 - 12:30 before she even started to grumble for a milk feed, so I need to let her demand it rather than force it on her (if only she'd stop demanding it overnight!).
Thursday 26 January 2012
Quirks
She likes to hit things, repeatedly. I've started to make it in to a game, where I yell "BING!" when she does it, and I swear she hits harder (and she smiles more!).
She has ticklish thighs, and is ticklish under the chest strap of her harness. Sometimes, she'll laugh when you take her clothes off, or when you change her nappy. She also laughs when you run soft toys across her face, like her head is a supermarket scanner.
She will almost always rub her face while she is eating, so she gets crumbs on her face, which makes her face itcsy so she rubs her face...
She has started turning her head side to side, in bed or when she's laying on my lap or the couch. I think she likes the rubbing feeling on her head (she'll closer her eyes sometimes when you pat her head, the husband used to do it to settle her back to sleep when she was very new). Googling seems to indicate this is a normal/'grow out of it' thing, so we're trying not to read in to it.
When she's put in to her cot, she'll whinge if you don't pop the dummy in her mouth straight away. If it's just after her last feed of the 'night' (7pmish), her eyes roll back in her head pretty much as soon as it goes in. It's magic.
When she's going down for a nap, she likes to grab the edges of the blanket and pull them up and down over her face. Sometimes she sleeps hanging on to the sheet.
When you're feeding her (particularly yoghurt) she will open her mouth for the next spoonful before she has even swalled the one she is on.
She likes to make a fake cough noise. And when you ask her if she is okay, she gives you a massive smile.
When she sits on your lap and holds your hand, she rocks back and forth like she's trying to move. Except she doesn't get anywhere. And when you put her on her belly to see if she wants to move, she lifts her head up and groans at you.
When she's getting tired in the afternoon, she likes to lay on my chest and sing-sigh. It's an adorable little musical sigh, while she lays there (every so often lifting her giant head to look at me before letting it fall back down) with her eyes open, just spacing out.
Edited to add the main quirk that made me think to write this post: She circles her feet. Rolling her feet from her ankles, she makes little circles. A lot.
She has ticklish thighs, and is ticklish under the chest strap of her harness. Sometimes, she'll laugh when you take her clothes off, or when you change her nappy. She also laughs when you run soft toys across her face, like her head is a supermarket scanner.
She will almost always rub her face while she is eating, so she gets crumbs on her face, which makes her face itcsy so she rubs her face...
She has started turning her head side to side, in bed or when she's laying on my lap or the couch. I think she likes the rubbing feeling on her head (she'll closer her eyes sometimes when you pat her head, the husband used to do it to settle her back to sleep when she was very new). Googling seems to indicate this is a normal/'grow out of it' thing, so we're trying not to read in to it.
When she's put in to her cot, she'll whinge if you don't pop the dummy in her mouth straight away. If it's just after her last feed of the 'night' (7pmish), her eyes roll back in her head pretty much as soon as it goes in. It's magic.
When she's going down for a nap, she likes to grab the edges of the blanket and pull them up and down over her face. Sometimes she sleeps hanging on to the sheet.
When you're feeding her (particularly yoghurt) she will open her mouth for the next spoonful before she has even swalled the one she is on.
She likes to make a fake cough noise. And when you ask her if she is okay, she gives you a massive smile.
When she sits on your lap and holds your hand, she rocks back and forth like she's trying to move. Except she doesn't get anywhere. And when you put her on her belly to see if she wants to move, she lifts her head up and groans at you.
When she's getting tired in the afternoon, she likes to lay on my chest and sing-sigh. It's an adorable little musical sigh, while she lays there (every so often lifting her giant head to look at me before letting it fall back down) with her eyes open, just spacing out.
Edited to add the main quirk that made me think to write this post: She circles her feet. Rolling her feet from her ankles, she makes little circles. A lot.
Wednesday 25 January 2012
Words?
Yesterday, I thought the baby was saying her first words.
She has started getting whingey in the mornings if I'm not out of bed and feeding her her solids breakfast when she wants it. So I had her in her highchair, playing with her highchair toy, while I got her weetbix ready. Whenever I was near her, she was fine, but as soon as I was in the kitchen (you know, actually getting the thing she was crying at me for not getting) she would cry. And then it sounded like she was calling out "Ma! Mmmmmaaa! MA!".
So I did what any sensitive mother would do, and rushed down the hallway to grab the husbands iPad so I could record her first words.
(I was also actually telling her that I was going as quick as I could and that I knew what it was like to be hungry and it was terrible but if she could please just relax he would be fine. To no avail).
So I set it up and started filming her, and carried on getting her breakfast.
But of course she was no longer calling out, and I just had two minutes of footage of my poor baby crying at me.
(I deleted it after that!).
She has started getting whingey in the mornings if I'm not out of bed and feeding her her solids breakfast when she wants it. So I had her in her highchair, playing with her highchair toy, while I got her weetbix ready. Whenever I was near her, she was fine, but as soon as I was in the kitchen (you know, actually getting the thing she was crying at me for not getting) she would cry. And then it sounded like she was calling out "Ma! Mmmmmaaa! MA!".
So I did what any sensitive mother would do, and rushed down the hallway to grab the husbands iPad so I could record her first words.
(I was also actually telling her that I was going as quick as I could and that I knew what it was like to be hungry and it was terrible but if she could please just relax he would be fine. To no avail).
So I set it up and started filming her, and carried on getting her breakfast.
But of course she was no longer calling out, and I just had two minutes of footage of my poor baby crying at me.
(I deleted it after that!).
Tuesday 24 January 2012
Hullo ladies
Yesterday I got the chance to head up to Sydney to meet some of the lovely ladies in my online mothers group. They were organising to catch up, and when I was asked if I wanted to make the drive, I figured it was a great way to spend a day, and would be nice to meet the ladies that I've talked to and relied on so much over the last 14 months or so (and their adorable babies!).
It took a little while to get started as our stupid GPS was borked - so the day nearly ended up just being me sitting in the car on the highway, eating a dozen cupcakes and listening to the Hokey Pokey. But, it didn't.
The baby was well behaved on the drive up - we stopped at McDonalds for a toilet break, and she coped quite well with being put in the bassinet attachment from our pram, on the floor of the cubicle as I did what I needed to do (and again on the way back!). I was hoping that as it is such a popular rest stop, they would have a better equipped mothers room (now I sound like a snob).
On the drive back, we stopped at McDonalds again and I sat her in a highchair and gave her a rusk (and avoided the looks of people who might have thought I was feeding her McDonalds!), and we stopped again at a truckstop as she was crying again and I thought she wanted a feed - she just wanted a cuddle.
It was a good drive, and besides being pooped at the end of the day, I'd totally do it again. It was so nice to meet everyone (no weirdo's!! Hooray!!!) and it was also nice to spend the time one-on-one with baby.
(She got to sleep at 10pm, then woke up at 5am! Unfortunately, I woke up at 4am and couldn't get back to sleep... I hope this is a new thing! Although, she probably slept for two hours each way on the drive, and had a nap at the house, so perhaps it came from having so much sleep? If only I could get her to sleep that much without having to spend so much on petrol!).
It took a little while to get started as our stupid GPS was borked - so the day nearly ended up just being me sitting in the car on the highway, eating a dozen cupcakes and listening to the Hokey Pokey. But, it didn't.
The baby was well behaved on the drive up - we stopped at McDonalds for a toilet break, and she coped quite well with being put in the bassinet attachment from our pram, on the floor of the cubicle as I did what I needed to do (and again on the way back!). I was hoping that as it is such a popular rest stop, they would have a better equipped mothers room (now I sound like a snob).
On the drive back, we stopped at McDonalds again and I sat her in a highchair and gave her a rusk (and avoided the looks of people who might have thought I was feeding her McDonalds!), and we stopped again at a truckstop as she was crying again and I thought she wanted a feed - she just wanted a cuddle.
It was a good drive, and besides being pooped at the end of the day, I'd totally do it again. It was so nice to meet everyone (no weirdo's!! Hooray!!!) and it was also nice to spend the time one-on-one with baby.
(She got to sleep at 10pm, then woke up at 5am! Unfortunately, I woke up at 4am and couldn't get back to sleep... I hope this is a new thing! Although, she probably slept for two hours each way on the drive, and had a nap at the house, so perhaps it came from having so much sleep? If only I could get her to sleep that much without having to spend so much on petrol!).
Monday 23 January 2012
Bang Bang Baby
The baby has a habit of banging her arms/hands on pretty much everything that she can.
We noticed this before Christmas, so we got her a little flowerpot toy where each flower makes a sound as she hits it - I do think it is getting more controlled, and perhaps this toy might have helped.
It's always funniest when she does it sitting in her highchair - like "bring me more!" or "that tasted great!" or "Woman! Another whiskey!".
We noticed this before Christmas, so we got her a little flowerpot toy where each flower makes a sound as she hits it - I do think it is getting more controlled, and perhaps this toy might have helped.
It's always funniest when she does it sitting in her highchair - like "bring me more!" or "that tasted great!" or "Woman! Another whiskey!".
Sunday 22 January 2012
Shade cover
We were trying to get some gardening done today - the husband started outside while I fed the baby and put her to sleep, then I had 45 minutes to get as much done as I could.
When the husband ducked inside to put on some sunscreen, he came back out with the baby, a little earlier than I expected. I set her out in her rocker chair and a bunch of toys and a hat, in the hopes we could continue to garden while she would keep herself entertained. But, of course, there were tonnes of flies and mosquitos hanging around, so we couldn't really just leave her out there to fend for herself.
I remembered I'd bought a shade/bug cover for the stroller, so I sat it over the chair. She was happy for a minute or two, then she was not. impressed. at. all.
So I brought her inside and we played on the bed. And I fed her. And we played some more. And she continued to mope - she would be happy when you leant in to kiss her, but cranky when you weren't. I tried some Bonjella on her top gum and it seemed to calm her a bit, then I tried to put her back down to sleep. It took three tries to get her down for good - she just wanted to lay on my chest while I sat in the rocking chair, and she would hum to herself. Then as soon as she's stop and start to get sleepy, I would put her down and she would wake up cranky. The only way I managed to get her down was to put her in her cot and then keep my head on her belly for a minute, so she would think she was still on me.
Last night I slept 1am-230; 240-330; 355-545; 600-730; 740-900. Then the husband got out of bed and took the baby so I got two hours of unbroken sleep.
I hope this is her top teeth coming in.
I hope they come soon.
When the husband ducked inside to put on some sunscreen, he came back out with the baby, a little earlier than I expected. I set her out in her rocker chair and a bunch of toys and a hat, in the hopes we could continue to garden while she would keep herself entertained. But, of course, there were tonnes of flies and mosquitos hanging around, so we couldn't really just leave her out there to fend for herself.
I remembered I'd bought a shade/bug cover for the stroller, so I sat it over the chair. She was happy for a minute or two, then she was not. impressed. at. all.
So I brought her inside and we played on the bed. And I fed her. And we played some more. And she continued to mope - she would be happy when you leant in to kiss her, but cranky when you weren't. I tried some Bonjella on her top gum and it seemed to calm her a bit, then I tried to put her back down to sleep. It took three tries to get her down for good - she just wanted to lay on my chest while I sat in the rocking chair, and she would hum to herself. Then as soon as she's stop and start to get sleepy, I would put her down and she would wake up cranky. The only way I managed to get her down was to put her in her cot and then keep my head on her belly for a minute, so she would think she was still on me.
Last night I slept 1am-230; 240-330; 355-545; 600-730; 740-900. Then the husband got out of bed and took the baby so I got two hours of unbroken sleep.
I hope this is her top teeth coming in.
I hope they come soon.
Saturday 21 January 2012
Suffering for turning into a new woman
A friend linked to this article on facebook, and I wanted to capture it here - it's titled 'To the mother with only one child' by Simcha Fisher.
Dear Mother of Only One Child,
Don’t say it. Before the words can even pass your lips, let me beg you: don’t say, “Wow, you have nine kids? I thought it was hard with just my one!”
My dear, it is hard. You’re not being a wuss or a whiner when you feel like your life is hard. I know, because I remember having “only one child.” You may not even believe how many times I stop and reflect on how much easier my life is, now that I have nine children.
All right, so there is a lot more laundry. Keeping up with each child’s needs, and making sure they all get enough attention, is a constant worry. And a stomach bug is pretty much the end of the world, when nine digestive tracts are afflicted.
But I remember having only one child, and it was hard—so very hard. Some of the difficulties were just practical: I didn’t know what I was doing, had to learn everything. People pushed me around because I was young and inexperienced. But even worse were the emotional struggles of learning to be a mother.
When I had only one child, I truly suffered during those long, long, long days in our little apartment, no one but the two of us, baby and me, dealing with each other all day long. I invented errands and dawdled and took the long way home, but still had hours and hours to fill before I would hear my husband’s key in the door.
I cared so much what other people thought about her—they had to notice how beautiful she was, they had to be impressed at my natural mothering skills. I obsessed over childhood development charts, tense with fear that my mothering was lacking—that I hadn’t stimulated her enough, or maybe had just passed on the wrong kind of genes. I cringe when I remember how I pushed her—a little baby!—to achieve milestones she wasn’t ready for.
I lived in terror for her physical safety (I once brought her to Urgent Care, where the doctor somewhat irritably diagnosed a case of moderate sniffles) fearing every imaginable disease and injury. In my sleep-deprived state, I would have sudden insane hallucinations that her head had fallen off, her knees had suddenly broken themselves in the night, and so on.
My husband didn’t know how to help me. I didn’t know how to ask for help. My husband had become a father, and I adored him for it. My husband got to leave the house every day, and sleep every night. He got to go to the bathroom alone. I hated him for it.
When I had only one child, I told myself over and over that motherhood was fulfilling and sanctifying and was filling my heart to the brim with peace and satisfaction. And so I felt horribly guilty for being so bored, so resentful, so exhausted. This is a joyful time, dammit! I should enjoy being suddenly transformed into the Doyenne of Anything that Smells Bad
.
I loved my baby, I loved pushing her on the swing, watching squirrels at the park together, introducing her to apple sauce, and watching her lips move in joyful dreams of milk. But it was hard, hard, hard. All this work: is this who I am now? I remember!
So now? Yes, the practical parts are a thousand times easier: I’m a virtuoso. I worry, but then I move along. Nobody pushes me around, and I have helpers galore. Someone fetches clean diapers and gets rid of the dirty ones. When the baby wakes up in the middle of the night for the ten thousandth time, I sigh and roll my eyes, maybe even cry a little bit for sheer tiredness—but I know it will pass, it will pass.
It’s becoming easier, and it will be easier still. They are passing me by.
I’m broken in. There’s no collision of worlds. We’re so darn busy that it’s a sheer delight to take some time to wash some small child’s small limbs in a quiet bath, or to read The Story of Ferdinand one more time. Taking care of them is easy. It’s tiring, it’s frustrating, but when I stop and take a breath, I see that it’s almost like a charade of work. All these things, the dishes, the diapers, the spills—they must be taken care of, but they don’t matter. They aren’t who I am.
To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible. But who I am now is something more terrible: the protector who can’t always protect; the one with arms that are designed to hold, always having to let go.
Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard. You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone. For what? Only so that you can become strong enough to be a woman who will be left.
When I had only one child, she was so heavy. Now I can see that children are as light as air. They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend.
Dear mother, don’t worry about enjoying your life. Your life is hard; your life will be hard. That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong—it means you’re doing it right.
A lot of it rings true. I've said it here before, it is hard. And so much and so many around you will only talk about how glamorous it is, how their life was nothing before, how each day is a dream and precious memory made.
While it might not seem hard to 'not be working', the emotional change is the hardest. To look at me 12-18 months ago, compared to now - so much has changed. Physically, yes. That's a given. But emotionally - so much more. And it's not all bad, obviously. It is true, I 'feel' things so much more and so much deeper than I did. But it also brings reason to examine all my other relationships closely. And the quick flip between happy and hilarious, and sulky and sullen.
I know that all this 'hard' work doesn't define me now. But there are days and there are times when I feel just like a function - a collective of tasks and calculations. I have the richness of the beauty and the joy my daughter brings to my life, I need to find that all around me.
It almost seems the happier she makes me (and the older she gets, the more I love and enjoy her - it's amazing), the more I notice when I'm feeling down.
(Please excuse the sullenness, I don't yet know if I actually feed sad or if my hormones are making me feel sad.)
Dear Mother of Only One Child,
Don’t say it. Before the words can even pass your lips, let me beg you: don’t say, “Wow, you have nine kids? I thought it was hard with just my one!”
My dear, it is hard. You’re not being a wuss or a whiner when you feel like your life is hard. I know, because I remember having “only one child.” You may not even believe how many times I stop and reflect on how much easier my life is, now that I have nine children.
All right, so there is a lot more laundry. Keeping up with each child’s needs, and making sure they all get enough attention, is a constant worry. And a stomach bug is pretty much the end of the world, when nine digestive tracts are afflicted.
But I remember having only one child, and it was hard—so very hard. Some of the difficulties were just practical: I didn’t know what I was doing, had to learn everything. People pushed me around because I was young and inexperienced. But even worse were the emotional struggles of learning to be a mother.
When I had only one child, I truly suffered during those long, long, long days in our little apartment, no one but the two of us, baby and me, dealing with each other all day long. I invented errands and dawdled and took the long way home, but still had hours and hours to fill before I would hear my husband’s key in the door.
I cared so much what other people thought about her—they had to notice how beautiful she was, they had to be impressed at my natural mothering skills. I obsessed over childhood development charts, tense with fear that my mothering was lacking—that I hadn’t stimulated her enough, or maybe had just passed on the wrong kind of genes. I cringe when I remember how I pushed her—a little baby!—to achieve milestones she wasn’t ready for.
I lived in terror for her physical safety (I once brought her to Urgent Care, where the doctor somewhat irritably diagnosed a case of moderate sniffles) fearing every imaginable disease and injury. In my sleep-deprived state, I would have sudden insane hallucinations that her head had fallen off, her knees had suddenly broken themselves in the night, and so on.
My husband didn’t know how to help me. I didn’t know how to ask for help. My husband had become a father, and I adored him for it. My husband got to leave the house every day, and sleep every night. He got to go to the bathroom alone. I hated him for it.
When I had only one child, I told myself over and over that motherhood was fulfilling and sanctifying and was filling my heart to the brim with peace and satisfaction. And so I felt horribly guilty for being so bored, so resentful, so exhausted. This is a joyful time, dammit! I should enjoy being suddenly transformed into the Doyenne of Anything that Smells Bad
.
I loved my baby, I loved pushing her on the swing, watching squirrels at the park together, introducing her to apple sauce, and watching her lips move in joyful dreams of milk. But it was hard, hard, hard. All this work: is this who I am now? I remember!
So now? Yes, the practical parts are a thousand times easier: I’m a virtuoso. I worry, but then I move along. Nobody pushes me around, and I have helpers galore. Someone fetches clean diapers and gets rid of the dirty ones. When the baby wakes up in the middle of the night for the ten thousandth time, I sigh and roll my eyes, maybe even cry a little bit for sheer tiredness—but I know it will pass, it will pass.
It’s becoming easier, and it will be easier still. They are passing me by.
I’m broken in. There’s no collision of worlds. We’re so darn busy that it’s a sheer delight to take some time to wash some small child’s small limbs in a quiet bath, or to read The Story of Ferdinand one more time. Taking care of them is easy. It’s tiring, it’s frustrating, but when I stop and take a breath, I see that it’s almost like a charade of work. All these things, the dishes, the diapers, the spills—they must be taken care of, but they don’t matter. They aren’t who I am.
To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible. But who I am now is something more terrible: the protector who can’t always protect; the one with arms that are designed to hold, always having to let go.
Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard. You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone. For what? Only so that you can become strong enough to be a woman who will be left.
When I had only one child, she was so heavy. Now I can see that children are as light as air. They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend.
Dear mother, don’t worry about enjoying your life. Your life is hard; your life will be hard. That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong—it means you’re doing it right.
A lot of it rings true. I've said it here before, it is hard. And so much and so many around you will only talk about how glamorous it is, how their life was nothing before, how each day is a dream and precious memory made.
While it might not seem hard to 'not be working', the emotional change is the hardest. To look at me 12-18 months ago, compared to now - so much has changed. Physically, yes. That's a given. But emotionally - so much more. And it's not all bad, obviously. It is true, I 'feel' things so much more and so much deeper than I did. But it also brings reason to examine all my other relationships closely. And the quick flip between happy and hilarious, and sulky and sullen.
I know that all this 'hard' work doesn't define me now. But there are days and there are times when I feel just like a function - a collective of tasks and calculations. I have the richness of the beauty and the joy my daughter brings to my life, I need to find that all around me.
It almost seems the happier she makes me (and the older she gets, the more I love and enjoy her - it's amazing), the more I notice when I'm feeling down.
(Please excuse the sullenness, I don't yet know if I actually feed sad or if my hormones are making me feel sad.)
Friday 20 January 2012
Countdown
I got a call from the pediatrician's office today to confirm an appointment for the baby for Monday.
The next appointment I had written down was for 24 February, no 24 January.
Cue the exciting moment where I thought the baby might come out of her brace next week.
Cue reality and a bit of calendar counting where I realise that's way to soon.
So we changed the appointment to the 21st of Feb, following the xray booked on 20th Feb.
That's just over one month to go and the anniversary of the husband and I first dating - here's hoping that's a good omen.
The next appointment I had written down was for 24 February, no 24 January.
Cue the exciting moment where I thought the baby might come out of her brace next week.
Cue reality and a bit of calendar counting where I realise that's way to soon.
So we changed the appointment to the 21st of Feb, following the xray booked on 20th Feb.
That's just over one month to go and the anniversary of the husband and I first dating - here's hoping that's a good omen.
Thursday 19 January 2012
All the love
Yesterday we had one of the few hot days we've had in this poor excuse of a summer.
It was my turn to host mother's group, so the baby and I spent the morning (and the first part of the afternoon) sitting on the floor of the family room with a bunch of lovely ladies and their babies.
After everyone left and we tidied up, I managed to get a fifteen minute afternoon nap out of her. But she was sleeping on me and it was too hot and I needed to pee, and she woke up when I tried to shift her to the cot.
And when I tried to get her to take a second nap in the early evening, she knew what I was up to. After laying on my bed with her for an hour, I got her up on belly and patted her butt for ten minutes, only to get a twenty minute nap for both of us.
She woke up, she lifted her big head up from my chest and she stared at me with her giant smile.
And in that moment I knew - all of her love was for me.
She's only been here for six months. Who knows how long she's had conscious thought for. Who knows what she actually thinks.
But she knows who I am. She knows that I lover her. She knows that when she's hungry, or thirsty, or tired, or windy, or just needs a hug - I'll be there.
She was sitting on my belly, holding on to my thumbs, rocking herself back and forward to her hearts content. She was smiling and she was happy. She was safe and secure. She was healthy and full and loved.
And all of her love was for me.
It was my turn to host mother's group, so the baby and I spent the morning (and the first part of the afternoon) sitting on the floor of the family room with a bunch of lovely ladies and their babies.
After everyone left and we tidied up, I managed to get a fifteen minute afternoon nap out of her. But she was sleeping on me and it was too hot and I needed to pee, and she woke up when I tried to shift her to the cot.
And when I tried to get her to take a second nap in the early evening, she knew what I was up to. After laying on my bed with her for an hour, I got her up on belly and patted her butt for ten minutes, only to get a twenty minute nap for both of us.
She woke up, she lifted her big head up from my chest and she stared at me with her giant smile.
And in that moment I knew - all of her love was for me.
She's only been here for six months. Who knows how long she's had conscious thought for. Who knows what she actually thinks.
But she knows who I am. She knows that I lover her. She knows that when she's hungry, or thirsty, or tired, or windy, or just needs a hug - I'll be there.
She was sitting on my belly, holding on to my thumbs, rocking herself back and forward to her hearts content. She was smiling and she was happy. She was safe and secure. She was healthy and full and loved.
And all of her love was for me.
Wednesday 18 January 2012
Small changes
I was thinking about all the little changes that we've made since the baby arrived.
We have more of a variety of fruit - peaches, plums, watermelon, strawberries, nectarines, green apples.
No wonder mums put on weight! There's so much more food around, there's so many opportunities to just hoover up the leftover food (ours goes to the dogs), the food we have is not the 'lite' version. Plus, as she feeds less and less from, I'm not burning as many calories as I have been, but I am still eating like I was before.
I lost 9kg on the food plan, but it's starting to creep back (stomped, rather than crept!).
She's going to be in our house and eating our food for many years to come - I best get on top of this sooner rather than later!
We've switched our butter and milk to full fat, as she needs all the calories she can so shouldn't be eating lite/diet food.
Our bread is white (although I bought wholemeal the other day) as she can't have grains/seeds.
We're buying a but more meat as we now start introducing it to her (mainly chicken).
Our bread is white (although I bought wholemeal the other day) as she can't have grains/seeds.
We're buying a but more meat as we now start introducing it to her (mainly chicken).
We have baby cheese rounds, cheese sticks, baby yoghurt, cottage cheese, arrowroot biscuits, rusks, giant rice crackers - all for her to snack on.
We have more of a variety of fruit - peaches, plums, watermelon, strawberries, nectarines, green apples.
No wonder mums put on weight! There's so much more food around, there's so many opportunities to just hoover up the leftover food (ours goes to the dogs), the food we have is not the 'lite' version. Plus, as she feeds less and less from, I'm not burning as many calories as I have been, but I am still eating like I was before.
I lost 9kg on the food plan, but it's starting to creep back (stomped, rather than crept!).
She's going to be in our house and eating our food for many years to come - I best get on top of this sooner rather than later!
Tuesday 17 January 2012
6 month needles
Baby had her 6 month needles today.
I was reminiscing before we went in there about her 6 week needles - I remember answering a call from work and the girl on the other end heard the baby crying. I explained that we were on our way to get her needles and that it was good it was that day because she had been crying all day, so maybe the needles would teach her not to cry so much. I must say, I have definitely become more 'in tune' with my daughter since then!
We ran through the general info with the nurse at the front desk - luckily, we didn't need to get the rotavirus vaccine again this time (that's the one that makes her poo's extra germy for a week). She took a needle in each thigh and definitely cried more on the second one, but stopped as soon as the nurse jingled a wind chime - I then went to try to buy her one for her room, but the cheapo shop only had a few and they were out of my reach.
Before the needles, the nurse commented on what a happy baby she was. She asked if the baby was breast or bottle fed, and I replied that she was breastfed. She asked again, and I confirmed again, adding that she is on solids though, and she's on three meals again. The nurse said "oh, so she doesn't have any formula bottles?" and I confirmed that no, she doesn't. "Well," she said, "isn't that just a great testament to breast fed babies - she's absolutely thriving!".
I.e., my baby be fat.
(I know she's not actually fat, she's healthy plump)
Yay my baby!
I was reminiscing before we went in there about her 6 week needles - I remember answering a call from work and the girl on the other end heard the baby crying. I explained that we were on our way to get her needles and that it was good it was that day because she had been crying all day, so maybe the needles would teach her not to cry so much. I must say, I have definitely become more 'in tune' with my daughter since then!
We ran through the general info with the nurse at the front desk - luckily, we didn't need to get the rotavirus vaccine again this time (that's the one that makes her poo's extra germy for a week). She took a needle in each thigh and definitely cried more on the second one, but stopped as soon as the nurse jingled a wind chime - I then went to try to buy her one for her room, but the cheapo shop only had a few and they were out of my reach.
Before the needles, the nurse commented on what a happy baby she was. She asked if the baby was breast or bottle fed, and I replied that she was breastfed. She asked again, and I confirmed again, adding that she is on solids though, and she's on three meals again. The nurse said "oh, so she doesn't have any formula bottles?" and I confirmed that no, she doesn't. "Well," she said, "isn't that just a great testament to breast fed babies - she's absolutely thriving!".
I.e., my baby be fat.
(I know she's not actually fat, she's healthy plump)
Yay my baby!
Monday 16 January 2012
Party not so hearty
Saturday night, I was invited out to a surprise dinner for a friends birthday.
We got back from the coast, I fed the baby, picked up the dogs from my parents, got dressed and headed out to pick up my friend so we could get there before the guest of honour arrived.
Dinner was great - good food (I ate way too much) and good company - and at about 9pm it started to wrap up and move on to a nightclub for drinks. I said that I had to head off, that I couldn't stay for 'just one drink', that I had to go.
I called the husband on the way home to see whether I should drop in to see him (his cousin was visiting from interstate so he was at his parents house) or just go home.
And he sounded surprised to hear from me 'so early'.
And when I was thinking about it the next day, I realised there was no real reason for me to not go out. The baby was fine and sleeping soundly, and she had expressed milk if she needed it. The husband was more than prepared to look after her and seemingly expected me to be out for the long haul. But I was driving myself home early.
I guess my main reservation was being out in a nightclub surrounded by people 12 years younger than me, in their tiny little outfits without their paunchy stretchmarked tummies hanging over their pants. I guess that's to be expected. I'm also the first in that group to have a child, so I was the only 'mummy' there... and I guess I don't think they really belong out in a nightclub. I guess my idea of a good night is one where I can cram in as much sleep as I can, rather than yelling over music I don't know to people who can't hear me, drinking overpriced alcohol and feeling overly self conscious.
I guess I can spend as much time as I like thinking about all of the extra-curricular stuff that the husband gets up to, without him feeling like he needs to rush home to the baby.
I guess I need to find out what it is I like to do with free time...!
We got back from the coast, I fed the baby, picked up the dogs from my parents, got dressed and headed out to pick up my friend so we could get there before the guest of honour arrived.
Dinner was great - good food (I ate way too much) and good company - and at about 9pm it started to wrap up and move on to a nightclub for drinks. I said that I had to head off, that I couldn't stay for 'just one drink', that I had to go.
I called the husband on the way home to see whether I should drop in to see him (his cousin was visiting from interstate so he was at his parents house) or just go home.
And he sounded surprised to hear from me 'so early'.
And when I was thinking about it the next day, I realised there was no real reason for me to not go out. The baby was fine and sleeping soundly, and she had expressed milk if she needed it. The husband was more than prepared to look after her and seemingly expected me to be out for the long haul. But I was driving myself home early.
I guess my main reservation was being out in a nightclub surrounded by people 12 years younger than me, in their tiny little outfits without their paunchy stretchmarked tummies hanging over their pants. I guess that's to be expected. I'm also the first in that group to have a child, so I was the only 'mummy' there... and I guess I don't think they really belong out in a nightclub. I guess my idea of a good night is one where I can cram in as much sleep as I can, rather than yelling over music I don't know to people who can't hear me, drinking overpriced alcohol and feeling overly self conscious.
I guess I can spend as much time as I like thinking about all of the extra-curricular stuff that the husband gets up to, without him feeling like he needs to rush home to the baby.
I guess I need to find out what it is I like to do with free time...!
Sunday 15 January 2012
Meet the new baby
Good friends of ours gave birth to their second son last weekend, and we got to go visit them all today.
I knew that we would be all 'wow! how tiny!', particularly as we experienced a similar thing when friends visited us in hospital with their three week old(er than the baby), all that time ago.
But man, so tiny!!
The little wrists and legs. The dry skin on the hands and feet. The grunts and hiccups, the complete and absolute utter helplessness.
And the stare.
I think that was what stuck with me most - the blank, assessing, humourless stare of the newborn.
He was totally adorable, but it reminded me of how hard those few months were for me before the baby smiled and interacted.
She looked like a great old gonky giant next to him, and I wouldn't change it for the world!
I knew that we would be all 'wow! how tiny!', particularly as we experienced a similar thing when friends visited us in hospital with their three week old(er than the baby), all that time ago.
But man, so tiny!!
The little wrists and legs. The dry skin on the hands and feet. The grunts and hiccups, the complete and absolute utter helplessness.
And the stare.
I think that was what stuck with me most - the blank, assessing, humourless stare of the newborn.
He was totally adorable, but it reminded me of how hard those few months were for me before the baby smiled and interacted.
She looked like a great old gonky giant next to him, and I wouldn't change it for the world!
Saturday 14 January 2012
Great grandparents
We took a trip down the coast to visit the baby's Great Grandparents (the husband's father's parents).
I will admit I was less than enthusiastic (as I am not very in to staying at people's houses), but the husband pointed out that we should be thankful to be going, as they're the only grandparents we have left.
Of course, it went fine. Probably the hardest part was having her in the same room as us (I wasn't so keen on leaving her unsupervised, but I think that's to be expected), and the beds were reaaaaaaally hot, so I wasn't sleeping deeply anyway, and waking at every noise she made. When she woke at 1am I fed her, rather than subject the whole house to half an hour of screaming baby, and because she didn't properly wake again until 7am, I could have had 6 hours of sleep, but would have got four hours of broken sleep, maximum.
I wish that we had more grandparents around.
My dad's father would be 102 this year, so I don't know how keen he would have been with the baby, but in the same way I had always hoped I could dance with him at my wedding, I do wish he got the chance to meet the baby. She was named after his wife, and if she were still alive I would love to have gotten to know her better, and to see them.
My mother's father passed away while she was quite young, and I do wonder what he was like. Her mother passed away in her 60s, and while she wasn't your typical 'nanny' Grandmother, I wonder how she would have reacted with the baby.
I only got to meet the husband's mother's father once - we went down the coast to visit him, in his big house all alone. The husband tells me a lot of his bad grandfather jokes - when you yawn he would say "what a mouth, what a mouth, from the north to the south". What would he have been like? And what would his wife, who I never got to meet, have been like?
Watching the husband's grandparents with the baby was quite nice. It was particularly lovely to see his grandfather blow her kisses and comment on how much she seemed to like his beard.
I will admit I was less than enthusiastic (as I am not very in to staying at people's houses), but the husband pointed out that we should be thankful to be going, as they're the only grandparents we have left.
Of course, it went fine. Probably the hardest part was having her in the same room as us (I wasn't so keen on leaving her unsupervised, but I think that's to be expected), and the beds were reaaaaaaally hot, so I wasn't sleeping deeply anyway, and waking at every noise she made. When she woke at 1am I fed her, rather than subject the whole house to half an hour of screaming baby, and because she didn't properly wake again until 7am, I could have had 6 hours of sleep, but would have got four hours of broken sleep, maximum.
I wish that we had more grandparents around.
My dad's father would be 102 this year, so I don't know how keen he would have been with the baby, but in the same way I had always hoped I could dance with him at my wedding, I do wish he got the chance to meet the baby. She was named after his wife, and if she were still alive I would love to have gotten to know her better, and to see them.
My mother's father passed away while she was quite young, and I do wonder what he was like. Her mother passed away in her 60s, and while she wasn't your typical 'nanny' Grandmother, I wonder how she would have reacted with the baby.
I only got to meet the husband's mother's father once - we went down the coast to visit him, in his big house all alone. The husband tells me a lot of his bad grandfather jokes - when you yawn he would say "what a mouth, what a mouth, from the north to the south". What would he have been like? And what would his wife, who I never got to meet, have been like?
Watching the husband's grandparents with the baby was quite nice. It was particularly lovely to see his grandfather blow her kisses and comment on how much she seemed to like his beard.
Friday 13 January 2012
Rock out!
Baby has a new hobby - rocking on the spot.
I'm not sure where it come from, but we've been spending time with her, getting her to sit up. A lot of the time I was doing this, I would lay on my back, put her on my belly, and hold her hands while she sat. When she got a bit mumbly, I would bounce my belly up and down - this would make her bounce and giggle.
She's gotten quite good at sitting, but she doesn't get there herself - we sit her up, and she can sit for quite a bit, sliding forward as she got tired.
Now when she's sitting up, particularly when she's sitting on our laps and facing us, she'll rock back and forth like she's riding a pony.
Of course, googling is not so good, as it points a lot of mother worrying that their children are autistic, but there's also posts indicating that it means she's getting ready to move.
I believe its just part of her getting ready to start shuffling on her butt - the harness limits her leg movement so she's not really able to follow the natural progression (that was pointed out in one of my mothers groups) from laying on their back, to rolling to their belly, to getting on to all fours, to getting in to a sit, to moving.
Its pretty cute though, and she smiles the whole time she does it (although she was just doing this on the husband's lap as I typed this and she threw herself forward on to the toy that she was playing with - a bit of an OH&S hazard, it seems!).
I'm not sure where it come from, but we've been spending time with her, getting her to sit up. A lot of the time I was doing this, I would lay on my back, put her on my belly, and hold her hands while she sat. When she got a bit mumbly, I would bounce my belly up and down - this would make her bounce and giggle.
She's gotten quite good at sitting, but she doesn't get there herself - we sit her up, and she can sit for quite a bit, sliding forward as she got tired.
Now when she's sitting up, particularly when she's sitting on our laps and facing us, she'll rock back and forth like she's riding a pony.
Of course, googling is not so good, as it points a lot of mother worrying that their children are autistic, but there's also posts indicating that it means she's getting ready to move.
I believe its just part of her getting ready to start shuffling on her butt - the harness limits her leg movement so she's not really able to follow the natural progression (that was pointed out in one of my mothers groups) from laying on their back, to rolling to their belly, to getting on to all fours, to getting in to a sit, to moving.
Its pretty cute though, and she smiles the whole time she does it (although she was just doing this on the husband's lap as I typed this and she threw herself forward on to the toy that she was playing with - a bit of an OH&S hazard, it seems!).
Thursday 12 January 2012
How much sleep does your child need
According to one of the newsletters I received from BabyCentre, 11 hours at night and then two naps totalling more than 3 hours:
Age - Nighttime Sleep - Daytime Sleep - Total Sleep
1 month - 8 - 8 (inconsistent) - 16
3 months - 10 - 5 (3) - 15
6 months - 11 - 3 1/4 (2) - 14 1/4
9 months - 11 - 3 (2) - 14
12 months - 11 1/4 - 2 1/2 (2) - 13 3/4
18 months - 11 1/4 - 2 1/4 (1) - 13 1/2
2 years - 11 - 2 (1) - 13
3 years - 10 1/2 - 1 1/2 - (1)12
*Note: number of naps in parentheses
I would say she sleeps 1.5 - 2.5 hours in a day, and probably 13-14 over night. So we're not doing too badly, I guess!
Age - Nighttime Sleep - Daytime Sleep - Total Sleep
1 month - 8 - 8 (inconsistent) - 16
3 months - 10 - 5 (3) - 15
6 months - 11 - 3 1/4 (2) - 14 1/4
9 months - 11 - 3 (2) - 14
12 months - 11 1/4 - 2 1/2 (2) - 13 3/4
18 months - 11 1/4 - 2 1/4 (1) - 13 1/2
2 years - 11 - 2 (1) - 13
3 years - 10 1/2 - 1 1/2 - (1)12
*Note: number of naps in parentheses
I would say she sleeps 1.5 - 2.5 hours in a day, and probably 13-14 over night. So we're not doing too badly, I guess!
Wednesday 11 January 2012
Don't sleep through!
Heh heh - she didn't sleep through.
After she cried on and off for about 4 hours, we managed to get her down. And then she was awake at 3am, 6am, 7.30am and 8am.
I went to mothers group and then sat at home - I lay on the couch with the baby to try and convince her to sleep, and she had a 30 minute nap on me. But then, the headspins I'd been feeling for the last day and a half really amped up, so my dad answered the call and took me to the medical centre.
I gotta tell you, vertigo + sleep deprivation + vertigo medication that makes you drowsy, makes for a bit of a spaced-out, fed-up, tired mummy!
After she cried on and off for about 4 hours, we managed to get her down. And then she was awake at 3am, 6am, 7.30am and 8am.
I went to mothers group and then sat at home - I lay on the couch with the baby to try and convince her to sleep, and she had a 30 minute nap on me. But then, the headspins I'd been feeling for the last day and a half really amped up, so my dad answered the call and took me to the medical centre.
I gotta tell you, vertigo + sleep deprivation + vertigo medication that makes you drowsy, makes for a bit of a spaced-out, fed-up, tired mummy!
Tuesday 10 January 2012
Sleep through
Last week at the checkup, the nurse asked if the baby was sleeping through.
After I finished my snort and eyeroll, I explained that as an example, she had been putting herself to sleep between 6pm and 8pm, then waking at 1am, 4am, 7am.... she told us that the baby didn't need that 1am feed. And if we give it to her, her stomach will expand and she will come to expect it.
She told us to try settling her instead. And that the husband should do it, as she'll smell me and it will be game over (I'm guessing she'd hook on to my milk smell and not let up until I fed her). And that if didn't work, then at least we'd tried and could just try again later.
We put together a routine (well, I've been putting her to bed and this is what I did the first time, so I copied it) as follows:
- change her nappy
- feed her in the chair in her room
- sit her on my lap facing outwards and read a book
- put her in to bed
- kiss on her head and 'nigh nigh' baby,
- turn the lamp off and leave.
Thursday night she went down at 9:30, the husband settled her at 2.30am and 3am (although she cried for 45 minutes so it doesn't really count), I fed her at 4:30am and then she slept through until 9:30am for a feed.
Friday night she went down at 7pm, he settled her at 8.30pm and 915pm, I fed her at 12.30am, I fed her at 5am, I fed her at 7.30am, I fed her at 10am (then the husband took her and I slept until 1pm).
Saturday night she fed at 7pm, 12.30am, 4.30am, 9.00am and was begging to start the day at 10.30am. Again, the husband took her and I slept for a few hours.
Sunday night, I refocused and remembered that we were trying to get her to skip a feed. She went to bed at 8pm, woke up at 11pm in a FURIOUS mood, we gave her some panadol and she slept until 4am for a feed, then was up to start the day at 8.45am.
Last night she didn't get to sleep until 10pm (we were at family tea until 9pm), then woke at 1am (I had to get her out of bed to settle her before putting her back in to bed sleepier), then woke at 4am for a feed. Then it took me two hours to get back to sleep, and she woke up an hour later. And then again 45 minutes later.
So she is getting the hang of not having the feed, but has just entered a clinger phase.
Tonight, I fed her at 6.30pm and again at 7.30pm after she slept for 30 minutes and then freaked out. Then we spent the next 90 minutes settling her - she started to cry as soon as we put her down, or as soon as we left the room.
Tonight I might sleep in the chair in her room....
After I finished my snort and eyeroll, I explained that as an example, she had been putting herself to sleep between 6pm and 8pm, then waking at 1am, 4am, 7am.... she told us that the baby didn't need that 1am feed. And if we give it to her, her stomach will expand and she will come to expect it.
She told us to try settling her instead. And that the husband should do it, as she'll smell me and it will be game over (I'm guessing she'd hook on to my milk smell and not let up until I fed her). And that if didn't work, then at least we'd tried and could just try again later.
We put together a routine (well, I've been putting her to bed and this is what I did the first time, so I copied it) as follows:
- change her nappy
- feed her in the chair in her room
- sit her on my lap facing outwards and read a book
- put her in to bed
- kiss on her head and 'nigh nigh' baby,
- turn the lamp off and leave.
Thursday night she went down at 9:30, the husband settled her at 2.30am and 3am (although she cried for 45 minutes so it doesn't really count), I fed her at 4:30am and then she slept through until 9:30am for a feed.
Friday night she went down at 7pm, he settled her at 8.30pm and 915pm, I fed her at 12.30am, I fed her at 5am, I fed her at 7.30am, I fed her at 10am (then the husband took her and I slept until 1pm).
Saturday night she fed at 7pm, 12.30am, 4.30am, 9.00am and was begging to start the day at 10.30am. Again, the husband took her and I slept for a few hours.
Sunday night, I refocused and remembered that we were trying to get her to skip a feed. She went to bed at 8pm, woke up at 11pm in a FURIOUS mood, we gave her some panadol and she slept until 4am for a feed, then was up to start the day at 8.45am.
Last night she didn't get to sleep until 10pm (we were at family tea until 9pm), then woke at 1am (I had to get her out of bed to settle her before putting her back in to bed sleepier), then woke at 4am for a feed. Then it took me two hours to get back to sleep, and she woke up an hour later. And then again 45 minutes later.
So she is getting the hang of not having the feed, but has just entered a clinger phase.
Tonight, I fed her at 6.30pm and again at 7.30pm after she slept for 30 minutes and then freaked out. Then we spent the next 90 minutes settling her - she started to cry as soon as we put her down, or as soon as we left the room.
Tonight I might sleep in the chair in her room....
Monday 9 January 2012
Just these ones
I have a friend with two children and a douchey ex husband.
And no matter what jerky rubbish he tries to pull over her, she always maintains she has no regrets, as he 'gave' her the children she has.
And whenever people say it would be best if she'd never met him, she reaffirms that if that were the case, she never would have got those exact boys, so she wouldn't take it back.
And I was always like 'yeah, I know, but I wish he never existed'. But now I know what she means.
And no matter what jerky rubbish he tries to pull over her, she always maintains she has no regrets, as he 'gave' her the children she has.
And whenever people say it would be best if she'd never met him, she reaffirms that if that were the case, she never would have got those exact boys, so she wouldn't take it back.
And I was always like 'yeah, I know, but I wish he never existed'. But now I know what she means.
Sunday 8 January 2012
Twitch twitch
Some friends came past one evening last week to visit the baby (and me).
One of them pointed out that it looked like the babies nose was a little orange. So of course I could think of not much else!
We asked the nurse when we got her weighed on Thursday, and the answer was interesting - did you know that when babies eat a lot of sweet potato/pumpkin then it can come through their skin?
One of them pointed out that it looked like the babies nose was a little orange. So of course I could think of not much else!
We asked the nurse when we got her weighed on Thursday, and the answer was interesting - did you know that when babies eat a lot of sweet potato/pumpkin then it can come through their skin?
Saturday 7 January 2012
Dear Baby - Month #6
Dear Baby,
Happy half a year birthday! After today, you'll be closer to 1 than to 0 - yahoo!
We had our first Christmas as a family, and you got spooooooooooooilt. I just rearranged your room to move your change table back in there, and it is crammed full of stuff. The wardrobe is exploding with toys and clothes, all the space is filling up, and you've not even been alive for a year!
Your hip seems to be getting a bit better - just before Christmas we had a checkup and I'm hoping that your xray in February will be the last we have of all this. We were also allowed to give you a bath on Christmas Eve, and another one last week - then the physio told us we can bath you once a week now. How exciting! I've already ducked out to get you some swimming nappies and I'm hoping that we can use one of your 'baths' to go to the pool at my parents house. We'll have to go when it's not the middle of the day, so I hope we have some warm days left in Summer.
The biggest milestone this month was the arrival of your first two teeth - One month of drool, one night of hourly wake up, two sharp little nuggets! I don't know how much work they're actually doing, but I gave you some cheese this morning and you left two little drag marks in it. They come through a little more each day, and so far I've escaped your wrath (you love to chew fingers and I'm one of the few people who won't let you do it!), but there's going to need to be a big talk if you start using them on me - especially when your top ones come through (they're meant to be next). Until then, just keep minding your manners and I'll keep doing my best to give you the best start.
Now, because I write a lot about you here each day, there's not really much to ever put in to monthly updates. So why not share the story of the day you born? Tl;dr = baby was born, not much hassle.
Six months ago, I woke up just after 7am feeling a little, erm, damp. Quite often I'd wake up really sweaty at like 530 in the morning, but this was a little more than that. I'd read a few suggestions on the forums about how to tell the difference between waters breaking and not, and this was waters. I walked out of the ensuite and flicked on the light above the wardrobe, which caused the husband to sit up and glare at me - it was a Thursday and he had work, and you know he is not a morning person. "It's baby day...." I told him. "It's baby day!!!!" was his reply.
We called the hospital at about 7.30 and they told me to relax and have some breakfast, then come in sometime that morning. I tried to have some cereal, but I was too nervous, and the continual breaking waters made it a less than pleasant experience.
I think I was having contractions from when I first woke up, but they were nothing major. I didn't know what Braxton Hicks contractions felt like, but I had been able to notice how much of the time the muscles in my stomach would harden up - making my whole stomach like a big round rock. It wasn't until we were in the car on the way to the hospital that I decided to time them, and they went for about 45 secs at about 3 mins apart. We got in to the hospital around 9am (and after calling my health insurance to pay the $500 excess) they put a monitor on my stomach to check the contractions. The machine measured the strength of the contractions, starting at about 20 and then going up from there - the contractions were going up to between 70 - 100, but it was a student midwife who never got consistent results every time she put the monitors on me. They got us to go for a walk around the hospital for 15 minutes or so, and whenever a contraction came on I had to slow down - it wasn't like a lot of pain, but it was more like the muscles were busy so I just needed to slow. We went back in and they put the monitor on again, and the contractions were lasting about 90 seconds. It was at this stage that I knew the student midwife was a little worrying - she checked my stomach and indicated that she though you were not engaged and headup, but you were head down and fully engaged (as you had been for weeks).
You had your back to my back, so for each contraction I would feel my belly tense up and then just get a pain across my back. I was remembering some of the things we were taught in our prenatal class and trying to rest with my belly downwards, to get your back away form my back, so I was kneeling on a footstool with my head on the bed. After I while I wanted to move, but then of course I had to go have a shower. This was a bit of a blessing as having the hot water on my back was lovely - for about fifteen minutes until it stopped helping the contractions. We were still waiting for the nurses to bring a heatpack, so we buzzed them again and they took us back to the delivery suite.
Some time in there we also had a visit from the nutritionist. I'd marked on my admission that I was I was vegan, so she wanted to talk to me about what this meant, while I was having contractions. I think I spent most of the converstaion saying 'whatever, whatever' and making crazy eyes at Daniel - it just seemed a little crazy that I'd be trying to relax while all my muscles were going crazy and she wanted to discuss sandwiches and beans.
When we were back in the delivery suite, the nurses hooked me up to the monitors, told me I was having some 'good ones' and that I was doing well. The doctor came in and said he wanted to see how I was going and that I should just relax, and things got more than a bit uncomfortable - I found out after you were born that he had actually spun you around so that your back wasn't back down anymore! It was 2pm at this stage, and he told me that I was 2cm dilated, and that I would have you in my arms by midnight. To be honest, I was less than impressed, as I realised I still had 8cm to go (and then some!).
For most of the time, I had my eyes closed. We listened to some music on the the iPod - I had made a playlist of songs that I would play to you when you were still in my belly. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember noticing that a lot of the songs had the word 'baby' in it, and I hadn't realised that until then. I also spent a lot of the time holding on to a damp facewasher - it was nice just to have something to hold on to, especially as I felt like my head was boiling and my legs were freezing (when my legs were out of the blanket I would start shivering). I was also holding a bucket - I felt really glad that I was only sick once as I hate vomiting - this is something that I haven't seemed to pass on to you.
Things started to ramp up more at about 4pm when the nurses changed over - at that stage I was at 6cm and 'doing well'. I asked again about pain relief (two hours earlier I had asked and the student midwife said I could do gas, but the 'real' midwife said it was too early so they would get me that heat pack. The heat pack never arrived!!!). The nurses asked what I wanted to do for pain relief and I said I would have whatever I could! They suggested pethadine and I totally agreed, so they gave me the needle in my right arm.
Basically, pethadine made me really dizzy, so I kept my eyes closed as much as I could. Although, I decided that I needed to go to the bathroom, and I do remember making the decision that I wouldn't bother trying to walk - I had the husband and the midwife pretty much carry me to the bathroom as I declared over and over "I've never been this dizzy!!".
We were pretty much left to our own devices for the next hour, but at about 5pm I could feel the contractions change, like I could feel my insides pushing down (I think I progressed to this point quite quickly as they don't normally give pethidine if they think a baby will arrive in the next few hours). I opened my eyes, told the husband that the baby was coming now and he ran out to get the midwife. There was a bit of rushing around as they were trying to get the doctor in - he was getting ready for a c-section and the nurse couldn't get a hold of him (this was the 'acting' obstetrician as the one I had seen for all of my pregnancy was on holiday!) - in the end the nurse ran out to physically get the doctor, leaving the husband with me as I was trying to push you out! He said that was the most stressful moment of his life, fearing that he might have to deliver you himself.
I was pushing for half an hour, when all of a sudden they told me to stop. Your cord was around your neck. This was the most painful part of the whole process - to have been working so hard for a while then having to stop right at the cucial moment! They cut the cord off your neck and then you were there. They put you on my chest after a quick wipe down (and APGAR score of 9) and all of a sudden I was a mother. 5:32pm on the 7th of July, everything changed.
I remember saying to the husband "this is so surreal.... we have a baby!... we made a cute one!". I remember looking at you and thinking that you were just the most adorable thing I had seen. Now, I can look back at pictures and see how vernixy and slimy and a little bit point you were, and see how much cuter you have become, but that's the way it all works!
We were very lucky in that labour only 'really' lasted 3.5 hours - heaven help us getting to the hospital in time if/when we're able to give you a baby brother or sister. A few days later the husband told me that he had a feeling that you were going to arrive on the day you did - he almost said something before we went to sleep, but decided to hold his tongue. It might be the best indication we have next time!
Happy half a year birthday! After today, you'll be closer to 1 than to 0 - yahoo!
We had our first Christmas as a family, and you got spooooooooooooilt. I just rearranged your room to move your change table back in there, and it is crammed full of stuff. The wardrobe is exploding with toys and clothes, all the space is filling up, and you've not even been alive for a year!
Your hip seems to be getting a bit better - just before Christmas we had a checkup and I'm hoping that your xray in February will be the last we have of all this. We were also allowed to give you a bath on Christmas Eve, and another one last week - then the physio told us we can bath you once a week now. How exciting! I've already ducked out to get you some swimming nappies and I'm hoping that we can use one of your 'baths' to go to the pool at my parents house. We'll have to go when it's not the middle of the day, so I hope we have some warm days left in Summer.
The biggest milestone this month was the arrival of your first two teeth - One month of drool, one night of hourly wake up, two sharp little nuggets! I don't know how much work they're actually doing, but I gave you some cheese this morning and you left two little drag marks in it. They come through a little more each day, and so far I've escaped your wrath (you love to chew fingers and I'm one of the few people who won't let you do it!), but there's going to need to be a big talk if you start using them on me - especially when your top ones come through (they're meant to be next). Until then, just keep minding your manners and I'll keep doing my best to give you the best start.
Now, because I write a lot about you here each day, there's not really much to ever put in to monthly updates. So why not share the story of the day you born? Tl;dr = baby was born, not much hassle.
=================
Six months ago, I woke up just after 7am feeling a little, erm, damp. Quite often I'd wake up really sweaty at like 530 in the morning, but this was a little more than that. I'd read a few suggestions on the forums about how to tell the difference between waters breaking and not, and this was waters. I walked out of the ensuite and flicked on the light above the wardrobe, which caused the husband to sit up and glare at me - it was a Thursday and he had work, and you know he is not a morning person. "It's baby day...." I told him. "It's baby day!!!!" was his reply.
We called the hospital at about 7.30 and they told me to relax and have some breakfast, then come in sometime that morning. I tried to have some cereal, but I was too nervous, and the continual breaking waters made it a less than pleasant experience.
I think I was having contractions from when I first woke up, but they were nothing major. I didn't know what Braxton Hicks contractions felt like, but I had been able to notice how much of the time the muscles in my stomach would harden up - making my whole stomach like a big round rock. It wasn't until we were in the car on the way to the hospital that I decided to time them, and they went for about 45 secs at about 3 mins apart. We got in to the hospital around 9am (and after calling my health insurance to pay the $500 excess) they put a monitor on my stomach to check the contractions. The machine measured the strength of the contractions, starting at about 20 and then going up from there - the contractions were going up to between 70 - 100, but it was a student midwife who never got consistent results every time she put the monitors on me. They got us to go for a walk around the hospital for 15 minutes or so, and whenever a contraction came on I had to slow down - it wasn't like a lot of pain, but it was more like the muscles were busy so I just needed to slow. We went back in and they put the monitor on again, and the contractions were lasting about 90 seconds. It was at this stage that I knew the student midwife was a little worrying - she checked my stomach and indicated that she though you were not engaged and headup, but you were head down and fully engaged (as you had been for weeks).
You had your back to my back, so for each contraction I would feel my belly tense up and then just get a pain across my back. I was remembering some of the things we were taught in our prenatal class and trying to rest with my belly downwards, to get your back away form my back, so I was kneeling on a footstool with my head on the bed. After I while I wanted to move, but then of course I had to go have a shower. This was a bit of a blessing as having the hot water on my back was lovely - for about fifteen minutes until it stopped helping the contractions. We were still waiting for the nurses to bring a heatpack, so we buzzed them again and they took us back to the delivery suite.
Some time in there we also had a visit from the nutritionist. I'd marked on my admission that I was I was vegan, so she wanted to talk to me about what this meant, while I was having contractions. I think I spent most of the converstaion saying 'whatever, whatever' and making crazy eyes at Daniel - it just seemed a little crazy that I'd be trying to relax while all my muscles were going crazy and she wanted to discuss sandwiches and beans.
When we were back in the delivery suite, the nurses hooked me up to the monitors, told me I was having some 'good ones' and that I was doing well. The doctor came in and said he wanted to see how I was going and that I should just relax, and things got more than a bit uncomfortable - I found out after you were born that he had actually spun you around so that your back wasn't back down anymore! It was 2pm at this stage, and he told me that I was 2cm dilated, and that I would have you in my arms by midnight. To be honest, I was less than impressed, as I realised I still had 8cm to go (and then some!).
For most of the time, I had my eyes closed. We listened to some music on the the iPod - I had made a playlist of songs that I would play to you when you were still in my belly. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember noticing that a lot of the songs had the word 'baby' in it, and I hadn't realised that until then. I also spent a lot of the time holding on to a damp facewasher - it was nice just to have something to hold on to, especially as I felt like my head was boiling and my legs were freezing (when my legs were out of the blanket I would start shivering). I was also holding a bucket - I felt really glad that I was only sick once as I hate vomiting - this is something that I haven't seemed to pass on to you.
Things started to ramp up more at about 4pm when the nurses changed over - at that stage I was at 6cm and 'doing well'. I asked again about pain relief (two hours earlier I had asked and the student midwife said I could do gas, but the 'real' midwife said it was too early so they would get me that heat pack. The heat pack never arrived!!!). The nurses asked what I wanted to do for pain relief and I said I would have whatever I could! They suggested pethadine and I totally agreed, so they gave me the needle in my right arm.
Basically, pethadine made me really dizzy, so I kept my eyes closed as much as I could. Although, I decided that I needed to go to the bathroom, and I do remember making the decision that I wouldn't bother trying to walk - I had the husband and the midwife pretty much carry me to the bathroom as I declared over and over "I've never been this dizzy!!".
We were pretty much left to our own devices for the next hour, but at about 5pm I could feel the contractions change, like I could feel my insides pushing down (I think I progressed to this point quite quickly as they don't normally give pethidine if they think a baby will arrive in the next few hours). I opened my eyes, told the husband that the baby was coming now and he ran out to get the midwife. There was a bit of rushing around as they were trying to get the doctor in - he was getting ready for a c-section and the nurse couldn't get a hold of him (this was the 'acting' obstetrician as the one I had seen for all of my pregnancy was on holiday!) - in the end the nurse ran out to physically get the doctor, leaving the husband with me as I was trying to push you out! He said that was the most stressful moment of his life, fearing that he might have to deliver you himself.
I remember saying to the husband "this is so surreal.... we have a baby!... we made a cute one!". I remember looking at you and thinking that you were just the most adorable thing I had seen. Now, I can look back at pictures and see how vernixy and slimy and a little bit point you were, and see how much cuter you have become, but that's the way it all works!
We were very lucky in that labour only 'really' lasted 3.5 hours - heaven help us getting to the hospital in time if/when we're able to give you a baby brother or sister. A few days later the husband told me that he had a feeling that you were going to arrive on the day you did - he almost said something before we went to sleep, but decided to hold his tongue. It might be the best indication we have next time!
=================
Happy half-birthday, baby girl!
Friday 6 January 2012
Almost six months
We took the baby in for her fortnightly weigh yesterday - it's been helpful doing it so often as we get a pretty good idea of how she tracks (we've only missed two fortnights). I know some parents who haven't ever taken their baby in and just figure that they baby looks fine. Which would have also been perfectly reasonable, but then we wouldn't have picked up her hip dysplasia.
Anyways, she weighed 7.9kg yesterday (just over 8kg with the harness on). She's getting so big! She doesn't look big big though, she just has roly poly arms and legs and chubby cheeks and chin(s).
It's going to be interesting to see what happens once the harness comes off and she is moving around, whether she'll drop weight from her face or from her arms as legs (as she doesn't really use them for anything apart from the occasional flap around).
Anyways, she weighed 7.9kg yesterday (just over 8kg with the harness on). She's getting so big! She doesn't look big big though, she just has roly poly arms and legs and chubby cheeks and chin(s).
It's going to be interesting to see what happens once the harness comes off and she is moving around, whether she'll drop weight from her face or from her arms as legs (as she doesn't really use them for anything apart from the occasional flap around).
Thursday 5 January 2012
Softie
Kung Fu Panda 2.
Cue scene where, through baby panda's eyes, you see mummy panda hide baby panda in a barrel of turnips to save baby panda's life, as he cries and reaches out for his mummy.
Cue tears.
Cue husband realising what is happening on the other side of the couch and asking if I am seriously crying about a baby ninja bear.
It seems that it's not just pregnancy that makes you sensitive.
Cue scene where, through baby panda's eyes, you see mummy panda hide baby panda in a barrel of turnips to save baby panda's life, as he cries and reaches out for his mummy.
Cue tears.
Cue husband realising what is happening on the other side of the couch and asking if I am seriously crying about a baby ninja bear.
It seems that it's not just pregnancy that makes you sensitive.
Wednesday 4 January 2012
Push the button
Sometimes when the baby is feeding in bed, she likes to stick her toes in my bellybutton.
This has happened quite a few times, so I'm pretty sure it's not just happy (gross?) coincidence.
I'm sure there's a pun to be made about it, but I'm just too tired to think of it at the moment.
It would be totally awkward if it's something she doesn't grow out of... ;o)
This has happened quite a few times, so I'm pretty sure it's not just happy (gross?) coincidence.
I'm sure there's a pun to be made about it, but I'm just too tired to think of it at the moment.
It would be totally awkward if it's something she doesn't grow out of... ;o)
Tuesday 3 January 2012
Teeth
Last night at family tea, the baby wouldn't stop crying unless I was holding her. It was my turn to cook, and I took one of the dogs for a swim to burn off energy/cool down, so there was a lot of crying.
And then when we sat down to eat, she wouldn't eat her solids. And she kept crying.
She went to sleep at 930 when we got home, then woke at 1.30 when the dogs started barking. And woke at 2.30. 3.30. 4.30. 6.00. 7.30. 9.00.
At that point (after commenting 'she slept quite well last night!' and being enlightened in quite a blunt manner) the husband took her to the family room and changed her using the nappy bag stock and fed her solids. Until I woke up at 1pm.
Because it's a stinking hot day, we took her harness off to wash it and dry it out in the sun (only a little cleaner, but looking a lot better!). I ran a coolish bath and the husband jumped in, and she splashed around a little. Where we found some bumpy nappy rash - damn.
And then we also found two bottom teeth.
That hopefully explains it....
And then when we sat down to eat, she wouldn't eat her solids. And she kept crying.
She went to sleep at 930 when we got home, then woke at 1.30 when the dogs started barking. And woke at 2.30. 3.30. 4.30. 6.00. 7.30. 9.00.
At that point (after commenting 'she slept quite well last night!' and being enlightened in quite a blunt manner) the husband took her to the family room and changed her using the nappy bag stock and fed her solids. Until I woke up at 1pm.
Because it's a stinking hot day, we took her harness off to wash it and dry it out in the sun (only a little cleaner, but looking a lot better!). I ran a coolish bath and the husband jumped in, and she splashed around a little. Where we found some bumpy nappy rash - damn.
And then we also found two bottom teeth.
That hopefully explains it....
Monday 2 January 2012
Grug!
We went out to Costco with my parents today and I picked up some kids books. Two books of 365 stories (so that's two stories a day for a year!) and two collections of stories that come with a CD as well (hooray!).
But most excitingly - Grug!
In the same way it's so awesome that the baby was gifted Dr Seuss books for Christmas, I love that we can now have our children read the same books that we loved to read when we were younger (I used to own Grug and the green paint!).
But most excitingly - Grug!
In the same way it's so awesome that the baby was gifted Dr Seuss books for Christmas, I love that we can now have our children read the same books that we loved to read when we were younger (I used to own Grug and the green paint!).
Sunday 1 January 2012
Happy New Year!
Hooray!
We rang in the new year with some friends, another baby, some under-5s and an extra puppy. We had barbecue, I cooked oven-foiled potatoes for the first time, and we played a board/card/party game. It was nice and subdued.
2012 is going to be a big year for us. Not quite as big as last year, but this time next year it is most likely that we will have a walking, talking child. With teeth and hair. Who will have more of an opinion. Who will have crawled and rolled a lot and sat up by herself. Who will have celebrated her first birthday. Who will potentially have spent some time in the care of someone other than a family member or close friend. Who will no longer be breastfed and who will be on grown up food. She will have things she likes and doesn't like. She will hopefully have gone in a swimming pool and/or the ocean. We may have gone interstate. She could have favourite tv shows and outfits. She will be able to play with toys. She will call me mum.
I will be returning to work in some form or another. The husband may be shuffling his work hours around to spend a day with his daughter. My dad will be spending more one-on-one time with her.
The husband and I will turn 30.
My youngest brother will be getting married, as will a few more sets of our friends.
Let's see what this year brings....!
We rang in the new year with some friends, another baby, some under-5s and an extra puppy. We had barbecue, I cooked oven-foiled potatoes for the first time, and we played a board/card/party game. It was nice and subdued.
2012 is going to be a big year for us. Not quite as big as last year, but this time next year it is most likely that we will have a walking, talking child. With teeth and hair. Who will have more of an opinion. Who will have crawled and rolled a lot and sat up by herself. Who will have celebrated her first birthday. Who will potentially have spent some time in the care of someone other than a family member or close friend. Who will no longer be breastfed and who will be on grown up food. She will have things she likes and doesn't like. She will hopefully have gone in a swimming pool and/or the ocean. We may have gone interstate. She could have favourite tv shows and outfits. She will be able to play with toys. She will call me mum.
I will be returning to work in some form or another. The husband may be shuffling his work hours around to spend a day with his daughter. My dad will be spending more one-on-one time with her.
The husband and I will turn 30.
My youngest brother will be getting married, as will a few more sets of our friends.
Let's see what this year brings....!
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