1. The Case of the Mystery Spew.
An early winter's morning. The Moose has left for work. Both cats are hanging around, probably enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet of the morning. The toddler is still in bed. I am breastfeeding the bubs and eating my oatmeal (good for milk production, as I have had some problems in this area). I finish my oatmeal, bubs finishes her feed, so I get up to change her nappy. The change table is behind the couch I had been sitting on, my empty oatmeal bowl is on a little end table in front of the couch. I change the nappy, go into the kitchen to throw it away, and return with bubs to the couch so she can have the other boob. But. But there is a circular puddle of something that looks suspiciously like oatmeal next to my bowl. The bowl I had left empty, or nearly empty. For a moment I think perhaps I had boiled it over in the microwave and not noticed, and that is what this puddle is. But it doesn't check out. My bowl was sitting on a cork board trivet the whole time and the puddle is on the table in front of it. Then I think perhaps bubs has managed to spew over my shoulder when I got up, but a quick check over my left shoulder reveals that I am spew free. Plus, if she had spewed and it hit the table, I should have heard some sort of splat. In my cofused, sleep deprived haze I go to the kitchen and get a dish cloth. When I wipe up the puddle I discover it is all mucus-y. Now gagging I realize the oatmeal like bits in the puddle are likely worms. I was 2 weeks late with the worming tablets, which I had given both cats the night before, and clearly one of the cats did not approve. My money is on Cleo. She looked a little guilty.
2. The Case of the Mystery Poo.
Toffee is doubly incontinent, due to an accident 4 years ago. I express her bladder twice a day, and poos have a way of creeping up on her and happening where ever she may be. The other day she was in the kitchen window. She pooed on the counter next to the sink and hopped down and ran outside (as I called out "Thanks a lot, Toffee, you asshole"). I cleaned the poos off the counter top and sprayed loo spray. A while later I was making brownies. The toddler was dancing in the living room and the bubs was being rocked by my foot in her bassinet in the kitchen. I could still smell poos. I looked high and low. Nothing. So I cleaned the counter top with another cleaner, and started the washing up (we do not have a dishwasher). Still the poo smell lingered. Some time later the toddler ate some yogurt, wanted more, but didn't actually want more. I went to wash the remainder down the drain, but the water wouldn't go down very well. Something was blocking the drain. Yes, it was a Toffee turd. I rewashed all the dishes in the hottest water my hands could take. Thanks a lot, Toffee, you asshole.
3. And The Universe Still Works.
Lately I have been struggling with nausea. Not too bad, and it comes and goes, but it has no real pattern. I feel sick if I eat, I feel sick if I don't eat. An awful lot like when I was preggers. And my intestines have been on the fritz the last few weeks too, Just like when I was preggers. We are not trying for another, Bubs is not even 4 months yet, for fucks sake! And after watching one episode of "I didn't know I was pregnant" I am now all kinds of paranoid. I sneakily buy $20 pack of FRERs from the supermarket, and promptly pee on one. Negative. THANK GOD. Next day, wham! Period. Nothing like pissing on $20 to bring on the period. This is a universal truth that has followed me forever, especially when not trying to get preggers. Pee on a stick, 24 hours later, period. No idea on the nausea and excessive intestinal distress, but clearly it is not pregnancy.
4. 4:30am Massive Bubby Deuce.
That speaks for itself. Also, she did spew over my shoulder. Totally heard the splat as it hit the floor.
Wednesday, 21 June 2017
Saturday, 1 April 2017
Second Bub's Birth Story
I have been working on this awhile. The bullet points version is the only version I can tell at the moment, due to scrambled baby brain syndrome.
Tuesday February 28th was a god awful day- it was hot, nap time got ruined thanks to a telephone call from the hospital to confirm Thursday's c-section, and Bubs was ridiculously hard to put to sleep. So naturally, she fell asleep just before 9pm, and about 5 minutes later, after one single contraction, my waters broke. Just like the movies. Gush and leaking EVERYWHERE. So I called the midwife (Dippy) who said to come down to her office for a check, and then on to Dunedin. Oh, and could we hurry up cuz she had a long day and was tired. Yeah...lets pack up the car in the dark and drag a just sleeping toddler out of bed. All with a towel stuffed between my legs. Good times. So the highlights of the journey:
Tuesday February 28th was a god awful day- it was hot, nap time got ruined thanks to a telephone call from the hospital to confirm Thursday's c-section, and Bubs was ridiculously hard to put to sleep. So naturally, she fell asleep just before 9pm, and about 5 minutes later, after one single contraction, my waters broke. Just like the movies. Gush and leaking EVERYWHERE. So I called the midwife (Dippy) who said to come down to her office for a check, and then on to Dunedin. Oh, and could we hurry up cuz she had a long day and was tired. Yeah...lets pack up the car in the dark and drag a just sleeping toddler out of bed. All with a towel stuffed between my legs. Good times. So the highlights of the journey:
- Dippy lost her car keys (she has a keyless starting car, ugh) so we couldn't get into her office for about half an hour while we searched her car. She had been napping in said car when we pulled up. So I got to help search her car while the Moose hung out with Bubs. All this going commando in a dress with a towel between my legs. Pretty sure I flashed the car park surveillance cameras.
- Bubs was fine on the CTG, but still not engaged, and my cervix was high and closed.
- 3 hour drive in a car we had just purchased the weekend before, in the dark. The Moose was so tired I ended up driving a bit of it.
- Bubs got car sick twice, halfway through the trip, and needed to be changed.
- Arrived at hotel at 230am (I was to report to hospital at 830am but had to get to the city in case I went into labor- I DIDN'T). Bubs wide awake and eager to explore. Hotel room had spa pool I could not use. I was understandably pissed at this circumstance.
- Finally to a rough few hours of sleep on towels on top of the nappy changing wallet thing. Thankfully I didn't leak any more while lying down.
- In the morning I discovered that toddler nappies make excellent pads for dealing with leaking fluids. Wish I had figured that one out earlier!!
- Got to hospital while Moose and Bubs went back to hotel to clean up and sort out cheaper accommodation. A quick chat with the doctor about what I wanted. I opted for a c-section because I still wasn't in labor, bubs was still up high, and I had lost most of the fluid. Also I would have only had about 12 hours until I hit that magic 24 hour post waters breaking moment. I figured why try to labor for so short a time, fail and have to have an emergency c-section?
- The spinal block did not hurt this time. Last time it did and they had to adjust a few times. This time they didn't nearly drop me off the table. Also, not as many people were in the room, it was a much more relaxed atmosphere, and it wasn't a million degrees in the room.
- Second bubs did not want to come out. There was much pushing and pulling, and the doctor was a short ass and standing on a step stool. It took another doc to push a bit harder to evict second bubs. I did not throw up this time, but I did feel really sleepy for about 5 minutes. They brought second bubs to me and put her on my chest while they put me back together. That was cool (especially as she was cleaned off and wrapped up). Second bubs weighed in at 7lbs 2oz (about half a pound lighter than the midwife predicted) and was 20 inches long at birth.
- They wheeled me to an anesthetic recovery room (new procedure) for a little while. There were lots of other people there, including Dorothy, who would not respond to the nurse asking if she could hear him (and he kept asking, over and over, rather loudly). Second bubs got her first feed here, and when we were wheeled back to the post-natal ward, the Moose and first bubs were waiting for us. First bubs was not overly worried or concerned about either me or second bubs and just wanted to play in the room. They left to go have naps after a short visit.
- I was able to shower with my catheter (and unsupervised) after 6 hours. I was more excited about my nasty hospital food though. I was also able to get out of bed by myself and pick second bubs up from her bassinet throughout the night to feed her. They removed the catheter in the morning and I was away. I was able to get out of bed with no more difficulty than I had as a 9-month pregnant lady, and within days I was able to jump up out of bed at the first squawk from second bubs. The midwives have commended my ability to move about like I never had a c-section, and I have been driving since 2 weeks post section. This is so much better than my first c-section! I think it is because I made myself a nappy-changing station out of an old desk so I wouldn't have to bend (which I did the day my waters broke).
- The first night was good, lots of sleep was had. The second day was rough. Second bubs was very mucus-y from the c-section and wasn't feeding well, and I had referred pain in my shoulder so bad I was in tears. That second night was rough. Lots of crying, not a lot of sleep, and more shoulder pain. In the morning a stupid cleaning woman made me cry when she asked if I was torturing that crying baby (I told her the baby was torturing me then burst into tears when she left, and I could not stop crying for some time- stupid hormones), and lactation consultants came running thinking this was my first, until they saw I was just feeding a baby with a less than happy tummy (apparently all the babies that day were mucus-y from c-sections, as I was told other moms were having the same difficulties). I have to say, I am glad this experience was my second and not my first!! I can see how new moms get overwhelmed!!
- I was discharged the third day. I nearly murdered the Moose. Short story: he had hurt his back and was in bad shape and I didn't believe he was worse than me. He left me with a new baby, a tantrum-ing and hungry toddler and the stuff to pack up for discharge in order to get himself lunch- no mention of getting anything for me or the hungry toddler. I had to pack up the room, heft and cuddle the toddler and wrestle her into the pram, and load up and carry everything out (a midwife helped me by carrying second bubs). Then I had to reinstall first bub's car seat (which is the devil) as it had been removed when the Moose got the car stereo fixed the day before. It took three tries. The Moose just irritated me while I was doing it by being as unhelpful as possible. I would like to point out that I was the one who had been disemboweled 48 hours prior. Then with much ado we got out of there, got lunch for me and first bubs, went to a park to eat and got rained on and had to run back to the car. Managed that, drove for half an hour, and suddenly the Moose was "too tired to drive" so we had to pull over so he could have a short nap, which meant first bubs had to be unleashed from the car seat so she could climb all over me. Thankfully second bubs slept and eventually we made it home without me getting too stab-y.
- We discovered second bubs had a tongue tie. She didn't gain as much as she should one week, so we got that sorted this past week. My nips are better for it, but I think she is having to re-learn how to feed, which hasn't been so fun for her. Anyway, we are getting there.
- Sleep is ok. I don't want to jinx myself. Second bubs goes to bed between 11pm and midnight. I could maybe get her into her bassinet at 9 but I am not ready for bed then most nights (well, I AM, but it never happens as she only sleeps a short time and is up by 10). She gets up around 3am and then again around 7am. So I am managing about 5-6 hours a night.
- She is a happy, easy going baby who is afraid to miss out on anything and fights sleep throughout the day (but not at night) and doesn't like to be put in her bassinet to sleep (during the day). This makes things hard when dealing with a toddler.
- Speaking of the toddler (aka first bubs), the green eyed monster came out 3-4 days after second bubs was born. It mostly strikes during feeds and sometimes during nappy changes, and always if mama (or daddy) can't do what she wants us to do when she wants it. Otherwise she is very cute and loves her little sister. Second bubs was starting to cry and first bubs grabbed me and dragged me over to her bassinet and told me through her toddler language to pick up and feed the baby RIGHT NOW. She is a bossy thing. Also this transition with the baby sister has been complicated by eye teeth coming through. Damn great timing teeth. Good one. My poor boo (first bubs/the toddler).
- My family was just here for almost 2 weeks. It was great having so many extra hands to play with the toddler and to cuddle second bubs, but I did find the little bit of political/social commentary to make it through to be stressful. I didn't like hearing minorities get blamed for racism, but as I was nursing in the next room and no one could hear me anyway I bit my tongue. It did make me sad to hear it from my family. It does make it easier to say goodbye though.
- Going from one to two is challenging. I can see how the transition from 2 to 3 (or more) is easier, as the older kids are already used to sharing the attention.
- Oh the nappies. Second bubs is pooping away her inheritance (and her sisters, and her parents retirement- oh my god has any child on the planet ever done so many poops as this one!!). I will be plunking her little ass in cloth as soon as she fits the ones I have. Also, wipes. Time to go to cloth. I am not looking forward to my laundry anymore.
- My body is definitely different this time around. With first bubs, within weeks I was pretty much right back how I started in terms of shape and weight (I then gained a ton because god does breast feeding make me hungry while not helping me lose weight!). This time I have a pooch-y tummy. I think my hips and bum are the same but I suppose I will find out once my incision has healed enough to handle non-maternity jeans. I have lost at least 7 kilos of pregnancy weight (it had been 10 but I gained back 3 while my family was here). I am more or less ok with my body. I have plans to loose weight anyway, so seems silly to get upset about something I am going to start working on. I won't be dieting per se, as I don't want to bugger my milk supply, but I will be aiming to walk 5 days a week and start jogging (couch to 5k) once I am healed enough- leaky boobs be damned. And avoiding junk food and refined sugars.
- The cats. Toffs is annoyed at the level of noise in the house, and runs outside whenever either child is crying/screaming (which is often). And the battle over the sofa has begun again- Toffs loves all the blankets and pillows I pile on for nursing, but she gets kicked off the couch whenever second bubs needs a feed or the toddler decides to pull the blankets out from under her. Cleo doesn't seem affected. I am not sure she has even noticed that there is a second child in the house. I imagine this will change once this one is mobile. But she is best friends with the toddler now and sometimes naps with her (the toddler loves it). Right now Cleo is wild and is running laps around the table, jumping off my leg onto the table, and trying to get into the hot water cupboard- she just knocked over a chair. So business as usual.
Monday, 13 February 2017
Full term shortly! UPDATED
In a day and a half I will be full term with second bubs. I am so ready for this pregnancy to be over, but so not ready to have a second bubs to look after (especially as Bubs#1 is being so demanding!).
My BP has been all over the show lately- I've had a high first reading twice the past two weeks, but the second reading has always been lower. Today the first was 124/90 (odd) and the second was 126/82. Mostly we are in the 130s/80s. My urine was good for awhile (there had been +1 protein at 32 and 34 weeks). Fortnightly growth scans have shown bubs to be hanging out on the 50th percentile so that is good! The umbilical hernia is killing me, but otherwise I am in good shape from about 7am to 6pm, at which point I just fade and become immobile for a few hours.
I thought I was getting closer to labor, but turns out I was deluding myself (I know, right?). My signs:
*****Turns out it isn't a UTI. What the hell?? Either way I am chugging the cranberry juice.
So here is the birth plan: If I get pre-eclampsia it will be a cesarean section. If I go into labor spontaneously we try for a VBAC (bubs still being in a good position of course). If I don't go into labor by my due date of 1 March, bubs gets yanked out the sunroof on the 2nd of March. I don't really know which option I prefer, but as none of it is really in my control I guess it doesn't matter.
Speaking of midwives (which I was a paragraph ago), I think I will have my midwife/OB rant now, as I promised it in my last post. So Dutch midwife had her baby in January (mid month I think), but she wasn't going to be seeing anyone for a few months around that time (I can't quite recall what the deal was or when she is back). So I have been at the mercy of dippy midwife. Dippy midwife can't get to appointments on time to save her life, and only texts if she will be more than 20 minutes late (I blame this for my high BP reading the first time I met her- the second meeting I had with her she had double booked). She also forgets things, like to bring urine dipsticks in from her car when she does the clinic here in my town. So two weeks ago I didn't have to pee on a stick. Last week she forgot to weigh me. She never asks about headaches, visual disturbances, other signs of bad things (she assumes I know I guess?). And the best of all, she can not figure out my gestational date to save her damn life. She is attached to a pregnancy wheel that I do not think she knows how to read. For example, when I was at 34 +5 she thought I was 35 +2. I have pointed out my due date (confirmed by ultrasound and BBT chart rather than LMP), but even so I can't account for her being off by four days. When I argued with her, she told me that it doesn't go by 7 day weeks. Now, I know when you try to calculate months pregnant, it doesn't go by neat little 4 weeks in a month. But I am pretty sure that it does go by 7 days in a week! My ultrasounds, my dutch midwife, and the OB all go by 7 day weeks. If I hit my week on a Wednesday (like I do this pregnancy), then each Wednesday I am at 34 weeks, 35 weeks, 36 weeks, and so on to the due date (a Wednesday!!). The OB had no clue what the hell was up with this midwife's calculations, but I got a lecture when I told her I gave up arguing the point (as the dates matter- though I figure they only matter if something goes wrong, at which point I will speak up).
Ok, now onto the OB. I have met with her 3 times. Once at 11 weeks. After that I was supposed to meet her at 20 weeks and then every four weeks after that. That is not how it has happened. Dutch midwife had to chase down the second appointment for me, which ended up being at 27 weeks. Funny thing about that appointment- though they sent me a letter with a time and place, when I arrived at the clinic I was told I had no appointment. They had cancelled it without bothering to tell me. The doc saw me anyway, but then in her letter she was all like "...It was a pleasure to unexpectedly see Tiggy at my clinic today..." which made me feel like I was appointment crashing. Then she was all like "I will see her monthly from now" but by that she apparently meant calendar month as opposed to every four weeks because I saw her in early December and then not again until the end of January (35 weeks)- which was to be my last time seeing her. My other complaint about her is her bedside manner. The first two times I saw her she kept pointing out that because I wasn't one of her private patients, she wasn't going to be at the delivery, take my calls after hours (I have never called her nor has either midwife called her on my behalf), etc etc. No mention of it the last time, so that was good.
Well, my next post should be a birth post.
My BP has been all over the show lately- I've had a high first reading twice the past two weeks, but the second reading has always been lower. Today the first was 124/90 (odd) and the second was 126/82. Mostly we are in the 130s/80s. My urine was good for awhile (there had been +1 protein at 32 and 34 weeks). Fortnightly growth scans have shown bubs to be hanging out on the 50th percentile so that is good! The umbilical hernia is killing me, but otherwise I am in good shape from about 7am to 6pm, at which point I just fade and become immobile for a few hours.
I thought I was getting closer to labor, but turns out I was deluding myself (I know, right?). My signs:
- my bump seems lower (aka my boobs are feeling the effects of gravity once again), though I am not waddling often and not having too much pressure down there, there has been more than before.
- I had period like cramping pain the last two days.
- I had lower back pain off and on the last two days.
- I have felt a bit more nausea and the urge to have explosive poos (TMI, sorry- but the iron supplements have prevented this urge from becoming a reality).
- I've been feeling off.
- My lady business has been feeling off (don't know how else to describe this one).
- This week is a busy week so Murphy's law states I should go into labor or develop pre-eclampsia to throw the system into chaos.
*****Turns out it isn't a UTI. What the hell?? Either way I am chugging the cranberry juice.
So here is the birth plan: If I get pre-eclampsia it will be a cesarean section. If I go into labor spontaneously we try for a VBAC (bubs still being in a good position of course). If I don't go into labor by my due date of 1 March, bubs gets yanked out the sunroof on the 2nd of March. I don't really know which option I prefer, but as none of it is really in my control I guess it doesn't matter.
Speaking of midwives (which I was a paragraph ago), I think I will have my midwife/OB rant now, as I promised it in my last post. So Dutch midwife had her baby in January (mid month I think), but she wasn't going to be seeing anyone for a few months around that time (I can't quite recall what the deal was or when she is back). So I have been at the mercy of dippy midwife. Dippy midwife can't get to appointments on time to save her life, and only texts if she will be more than 20 minutes late (I blame this for my high BP reading the first time I met her- the second meeting I had with her she had double booked). She also forgets things, like to bring urine dipsticks in from her car when she does the clinic here in my town. So two weeks ago I didn't have to pee on a stick. Last week she forgot to weigh me. She never asks about headaches, visual disturbances, other signs of bad things (she assumes I know I guess?). And the best of all, she can not figure out my gestational date to save her damn life. She is attached to a pregnancy wheel that I do not think she knows how to read. For example, when I was at 34 +5 she thought I was 35 +2. I have pointed out my due date (confirmed by ultrasound and BBT chart rather than LMP), but even so I can't account for her being off by four days. When I argued with her, she told me that it doesn't go by 7 day weeks. Now, I know when you try to calculate months pregnant, it doesn't go by neat little 4 weeks in a month. But I am pretty sure that it does go by 7 days in a week! My ultrasounds, my dutch midwife, and the OB all go by 7 day weeks. If I hit my week on a Wednesday (like I do this pregnancy), then each Wednesday I am at 34 weeks, 35 weeks, 36 weeks, and so on to the due date (a Wednesday!!). The OB had no clue what the hell was up with this midwife's calculations, but I got a lecture when I told her I gave up arguing the point (as the dates matter- though I figure they only matter if something goes wrong, at which point I will speak up).
Ok, now onto the OB. I have met with her 3 times. Once at 11 weeks. After that I was supposed to meet her at 20 weeks and then every four weeks after that. That is not how it has happened. Dutch midwife had to chase down the second appointment for me, which ended up being at 27 weeks. Funny thing about that appointment- though they sent me a letter with a time and place, when I arrived at the clinic I was told I had no appointment. They had cancelled it without bothering to tell me. The doc saw me anyway, but then in her letter she was all like "...It was a pleasure to unexpectedly see Tiggy at my clinic today..." which made me feel like I was appointment crashing. Then she was all like "I will see her monthly from now" but by that she apparently meant calendar month as opposed to every four weeks because I saw her in early December and then not again until the end of January (35 weeks)- which was to be my last time seeing her. My other complaint about her is her bedside manner. The first two times I saw her she kept pointing out that because I wasn't one of her private patients, she wasn't going to be at the delivery, take my calls after hours (I have never called her nor has either midwife called her on my behalf), etc etc. No mention of it the last time, so that was good.
Well, my next post should be a birth post.
Friday, 6 January 2017
32+2
I am now more pregnant that I have ever been (by one day). And while my bump is bigger this time (Bubs 2 is measuring on track so far and I am also fatter than I was when I was preggers with Bubs 1), I am only just now starting to feel big bump can't touch my toes pregnant (I can probably still touch my toes but I am not really interested in trying). My umbilical hernia, which was only a slight problem with #1 is quickly becoming a nightmare (thanks to constantly having to lug around Bubs #1 who often wants to be carried). Other than that, things are chugging along nicely.
My BP has been about 130/80 for most of this pregnancy, but we hit a spike of 142/90 just at week 27, which sent me to the hospital for observation. By the time I arrived there it was back to 130/80 and it just kept falling while I was in the hospital, until the last time they took it and it was 100/59. Yeah. In all fairness, that was while lying down for a nap with Bubs #1 on the hospital bed. Last week my BP was 120/60.
I was talking with a woman who had pre-eclampsia in both her pregnancies- in her second it came on quick. That has made me paranoid. That and my "level of care". I will go into details on that later. At least I know what to look for and can be my own advocate, so I don't feel like my care is actually being compromised (good Dutch midwife is pregnant and off for the next 6 weeks or so- her partner is flaky- nice but flaky and my ob is a whole other post).
My BP has been about 130/80 for most of this pregnancy, but we hit a spike of 142/90 just at week 27, which sent me to the hospital for observation. By the time I arrived there it was back to 130/80 and it just kept falling while I was in the hospital, until the last time they took it and it was 100/59. Yeah. In all fairness, that was while lying down for a nap with Bubs #1 on the hospital bed. Last week my BP was 120/60.
I was talking with a woman who had pre-eclampsia in both her pregnancies- in her second it came on quick. That has made me paranoid. That and my "level of care". I will go into details on that later. At least I know what to look for and can be my own advocate, so I don't feel like my care is actually being compromised (good Dutch midwife is pregnant and off for the next 6 weeks or so- her partner is flaky- nice but flaky and my ob is a whole other post).
Monday, 14 November 2016
quaking
The 7.5 earthquake last night didn't affect us. I felt a slight rolling sensation, lifted my head off the pillow thinking "hmmm...earthquake?" but hearing nothing rattling or banging or moving I put my head back down and chucked it up to pregnancy dizziness (is that a thing?), lack of sleep, or a day of coffee drinking. An hour later the tom cat pissing in the house came in, I chased him out, and half an hour after that Bubs was up.
I haven't been sleeping well lately. Since a wicked tummy bug had me puking my guts out two weeks ago, I have found that I just cannot fall asleep before 2am. And last night Bubs couldn't sleep either. Today she has a new molar peeking through. She wasn't fussy...she just wasn't sleeping. I could post a whole other lot of stuff, but I am trying to get some baking done while Bubs is "enjoying" a few hours at daycare.
Just wanted to say we are fine :)
I haven't been sleeping well lately. Since a wicked tummy bug had me puking my guts out two weeks ago, I have found that I just cannot fall asleep before 2am. And last night Bubs couldn't sleep either. Today she has a new molar peeking through. She wasn't fussy...she just wasn't sleeping. I could post a whole other lot of stuff, but I am trying to get some baking done while Bubs is "enjoying" a few hours at daycare.
Just wanted to say we are fine :)
Wednesday, 28 September 2016
The State of Things
Hi there. It has been awhile. I'm still mostly reading blogs (though I don't comment so much) but I have been AWOL from this blog. There are a couple of reasons.
I suppose a trigger warning is needed, so if you are in a bad place, click away.
The State of My Mind. It all started as my maternity leave wound down and I had to get back to working and prepping for that stupid audit. I won't go into the details about it all, but it stressed me out. I could not stop thinking about all the things the company needed (and really, lets be honest, still needs) to do. We passed the audit (thank god) and I had a small breather before I had to pretty much overhaul much of our health and safety program for the legislation change. The audit was in January, the legislation change was in April. I had about 6 pages of to-do lists taped up all over my "office" area. Once again, I could not stop thinking about all the things that needed to be done. Add to that an irresponsible supervisor who expected me to be his personal secretary (ugh) and a bunch of fuckwits (in their 60s-70s) who bully the shit out of each other and then come bitching to me about it (with bosses who won't do shit about the situation because they don't think they should have to, because adults should behave like adults- to which I call bullshit, since when do adults actually behave like adults??)...ugh, here I go, digressing....anyway, I started to dream about quitting that job. So I did. I waited until after harvest, after I went out of town with the Moose and the Bubs (during which time I received annoying emails from work expecting me to do something about this other situation- yeah, ain't happening), and after the boss got back from his holiday. Then I quit.
It was a bit stressful because money was starting to get tight, but we were finally able to access an investment and a few months ago we paid of the mortgage and we are in a much better position now. We still have to be a little careful, since we are living off of only one income, but things are a lot less tight now.
And I am still on the payroll, still giving advise to the boss's wife (who took over my job), still giving advise to a client, and still expected to help out a bit. I am mostly ok with this, because I will choose how much of my time and sanity to give. As far as I am concerned, I am done, really. People may pick my poor disorganized brain, but I am not putting in the effort.
Anyway, quitting felt good. It felt brilliant actually. BUT. My brain didn't stop. It replaced work with other things. Things like what if the car went off the road into the river? How would I get Bubs out of the backseat and her carseat, how would I break the window, get the Moose out, etc etc. I am terrified of drowning or being trapped under water (yes I can swim, no I don't enjoy being under the water though). It got to the point where some days washing my face in the shower would just about leave me choking. And it isn't just that situation. We are expecting a major earthquake here sometime in the next 50 years or so (a magnitude 8) and the longer it takes to happen the worse it will be. I am still working on building up our supplies, working out our strategies, etc. I think this is useful and something I need to do, but not something I need to lie awake about all night freaking out about. Especially when instead of thinking of a list of first aid supplies our kit should have, I am busy trying to figure out if Bub's cot can handle the ceiling coming down on it.
The state of the world was also affecting me. Trump and Brexit and driver-less cars and drones and more sleepless nights. I've unfollowed many people on facebook to limit my exposure to some of the vitriol. There is a ban on current events as a topic with my parents (who thankfully aren't Trump supporters- but that is only because they don't like his personality) after I had to explain to my mother why god doesn't belong in public schools and the whole perceived "ban on Christmas" business. My mother raised us outside of the church and to not be religious, as an interesting side note. This is all very sad to me, and very stressful, and I honestly believe that the world our children will inherit is a worse one than the one we grew up in. Boo.
I have had some issues with anxiety in the past. Usually it comes to the surface once a year and I spend a few hours having an actual panic attack (or my version of one, complete with twitchy eyes, a racing pulse, speech of 500 words per minute and an inability to sit still). I burn it off and am usually ok. Other things, like public speaking or that sort I can just use visualization and breathing techniques to work my way through it, and I over-prepare (or occasionally under-prepare just for something different). This I couldn't cope with though. I would lay awake, waiting for Bubs to wake up so I could pull her into bed with me and cuddle her and maybe get a few hours of sleep. During the day I would find myself nearly paralyzed and unable to do much of anything except attend to Bubs needs.
I spoke with my doctor about this (while there for another reason) and she pretty much just told me to google cognitive behavior therapies. Thanks, doc. Maybe I should lose some weight too, since that is obviously the cause of all ills (d'ya hear the sarcasm?). Doctor aside, I decided to try this first. I don't want to go to therapy, and I am just the kind of analytical enough to give it a go. Mostly, most of the time, this is working for me. I am feeling much better now. I can sleep. I can function. Maybe more daylight and warmer weather have helped too, but I feel much more alive and human now.
The State of the Bubs. Right now she is picking through her dinner with the help of a bic pen, but hey, she may actually eat some of it so she can keep the damn pen. She is a fussy fussy eater. And getting molars, which doesn't help. I could bang on and on about this, but she is growing (at 16 months she is still the size of some of the 12 month-er's we meet) and the doc isn't concerned.
She is sleeping in her cot now. At least until the middle of the night when she wakes up and I bring her into bed with the us. Some nights, maybe one in three, she sleeps the whole night. This is such an improvement. And mostly due to the warming weather. She hates blankets with the fire of a thousand suns and kicks them off, gets cold and wakes up (despite the panel heater in her room). Our house is cold. Most NZ houses are cold. Such is life. I hope she can learn to love the blankets though.
Still waiting for her to start using words. She talks alot, but in her own language. She is quite good at getting her point across anyway, and she understands a lot more than it appears, but still nothing. She will "mamamamama" and "dadadada" but not necessarily meaning mama and dada. Since she is quite happy to babble along I am not worried yet. She will start in her own time (and she gets a 2 month lee-way for milestones).
She is the cutest thing ever, and when not teething she is wonderfully delightful. She does have tantrums like nothing else when she doesn't get her own way/isn't allowed to eat catfood/dirt/play with electrical outlets, etc. When she is teething the tantrums come damn near constant. I am sure this is all normal. What I have a problem with are the tantrums around my cooking. Anytime I try to prepare a meal (if the Moose isn't home especially) she clings to my legs, tries to push me out of the kitchen and screams at me. I ignore her, or try to distract her with a toy or tv (the one time of day I turn it on in desperate hopes that she will actually sit down and let me cook!). Sometimes this works, sometimes she screams at me for half an hour +. This has been going on for months and is driving me a wee bit mental. I am hoping it is a phase and soon it will end.
The State of the Moose. I should do an entire post on how Bubs makes a better bedfellow (snoring, cold feet, etc), but I am not going to- this is getting long enough and it has taken me 3-4 sessions so far just to get this far. Lets just say marriage is hard enough, and it is even harder with a toddler in the picture. But we are surviving and still happy to be with each other. One quick story- I asked him to watch Bubs for a few minutes while I put some laundry away- she was playing in the doorway and he was a few feet away on the sofa (sliding glass door = our front door). Our bedroom looks out on the veranda a short distance from the door, so I peeked out the window at Bubs. She saw me and came over to see me, so I picked her up through the window and she and I put a few socks away. No sound from the Moose (who was looking at some papers). So I called out "Bubby, where are you? I haven't heard you for a few minutes, what are you up to?" and within 20 seconds the Moose takes up the call, looks up and realizes she is gone. He booked it out the door and was heading down the veranda towards the drive (which we share with two other houses) when we popped out of the window and said "Boo!". He was not impressed, but I think he learned his lesson.
Trigger warning number 2... I am guessing you can guess where this is going so if you want to look away do so now.
The State of the Uterus. I am 18 weeks pregnant today. We got lucky on our second cycle attempt for number 2. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, mostly in regards to what I would say on this blog, what this means, and how I identify myself. I didn't expect this to happen so quickly.
It took us 2 years to get Bubs. 2 years. It took 2 months to get pregnant again. I don't know what this means exactly. I am not infertile (as we proved with Bubs) but I think I am not sub-fertile either. I don't know what I am exactly, but I do know that this blog is no longer appropriate considering the original purpose.
I identify more closely with being a mum to a preemie and a pre-eclampsia survivor than I do with in/sub-fertility, and I have for some time. The 6 weeks in the NICU and the experience with pre-eclampsia have coloured my life far more than the 2 years of TTC. I think blogging here, in the early pre-Bubs days (and during that pregnancy), and even more importantly reading other blogs and interacting with other bloggers has given me an insight that probably most fertile women do not have. I choose my words more carefully when talking to women about babies, TTC, etc and I am careful not to be an obnoxious social media poster (oh, good lord, someone the other day tagged my pregnant cousin with a "tag a pregnant woman who is beautiful" type thing and I felt annoyed on behalf of all women who will see crap like that and find it hurtful). I will be forever understanding of the struggles of so many, and I will do what I can (even though it may be little more than listen and acknowledge) to help (if I could knock you all up, I would) and I will never ever tell anyone to "just relax" or "just adopt" or any of those annoying, ignorant, hurtful things.
I do realize that I cannot wrap cotton wool around everyone, and that my words, actions, or mere existence may cause pain to some. For that I am sorry, but I feel I should give this blog some closure as opposed to simply disappearing from it without a word. My plan is to include one more post- on the conclusion of this pregnancy. I will leave that post up for a few weeks (or longer if I forget) and then I will probably delete this blog. I don't think it will be that helpful for women starting out on their own journeys- I was blogging for such a short time before I got pregnant with Bubs. If I don't delete it, I might just have a one post abridged version of our story. I am still waffling a bit on what to do. I do know that I won't be blogging anymore, here or elsewhere. I just don't have the time, or the words. Sometimes I have ideas, things I want to put out there...but I just can't. Maybe one day in the future. Probably the distant future.
So this isn't quite goodbye for now, or maybe for good (I am still reading blogs and commenting when I get the chance). See you in a few months.
In case anyone is wondering, a few (interesting?) things from this pregnancy (look away if you need to, this is wrapping up this long long post so there is no reason to hang around)
I suppose a trigger warning is needed, so if you are in a bad place, click away.
Cleo as an octopus
The State of My Mind. It all started as my maternity leave wound down and I had to get back to working and prepping for that stupid audit. I won't go into the details about it all, but it stressed me out. I could not stop thinking about all the things the company needed (and really, lets be honest, still needs) to do. We passed the audit (thank god) and I had a small breather before I had to pretty much overhaul much of our health and safety program for the legislation change. The audit was in January, the legislation change was in April. I had about 6 pages of to-do lists taped up all over my "office" area. Once again, I could not stop thinking about all the things that needed to be done. Add to that an irresponsible supervisor who expected me to be his personal secretary (ugh) and a bunch of fuckwits (in their 60s-70s) who bully the shit out of each other and then come bitching to me about it (with bosses who won't do shit about the situation because they don't think they should have to, because adults should behave like adults- to which I call bullshit, since when do adults actually behave like adults??)...ugh, here I go, digressing....anyway, I started to dream about quitting that job. So I did. I waited until after harvest, after I went out of town with the Moose and the Bubs (during which time I received annoying emails from work expecting me to do something about this other situation- yeah, ain't happening), and after the boss got back from his holiday. Then I quit.
It was a bit stressful because money was starting to get tight, but we were finally able to access an investment and a few months ago we paid of the mortgage and we are in a much better position now. We still have to be a little careful, since we are living off of only one income, but things are a lot less tight now.
And I am still on the payroll, still giving advise to the boss's wife (who took over my job), still giving advise to a client, and still expected to help out a bit. I am mostly ok with this, because I will choose how much of my time and sanity to give. As far as I am concerned, I am done, really. People may pick my poor disorganized brain, but I am not putting in the effort.
Anyway, quitting felt good. It felt brilliant actually. BUT. My brain didn't stop. It replaced work with other things. Things like what if the car went off the road into the river? How would I get Bubs out of the backseat and her carseat, how would I break the window, get the Moose out, etc etc. I am terrified of drowning or being trapped under water (yes I can swim, no I don't enjoy being under the water though). It got to the point where some days washing my face in the shower would just about leave me choking. And it isn't just that situation. We are expecting a major earthquake here sometime in the next 50 years or so (a magnitude 8) and the longer it takes to happen the worse it will be. I am still working on building up our supplies, working out our strategies, etc. I think this is useful and something I need to do, but not something I need to lie awake about all night freaking out about. Especially when instead of thinking of a list of first aid supplies our kit should have, I am busy trying to figure out if Bub's cot can handle the ceiling coming down on it.
The state of the world was also affecting me. Trump and Brexit and driver-less cars and drones and more sleepless nights. I've unfollowed many people on facebook to limit my exposure to some of the vitriol. There is a ban on current events as a topic with my parents (who thankfully aren't Trump supporters- but that is only because they don't like his personality) after I had to explain to my mother why god doesn't belong in public schools and the whole perceived "ban on Christmas" business. My mother raised us outside of the church and to not be religious, as an interesting side note. This is all very sad to me, and very stressful, and I honestly believe that the world our children will inherit is a worse one than the one we grew up in. Boo.
I have had some issues with anxiety in the past. Usually it comes to the surface once a year and I spend a few hours having an actual panic attack (or my version of one, complete with twitchy eyes, a racing pulse, speech of 500 words per minute and an inability to sit still). I burn it off and am usually ok. Other things, like public speaking or that sort I can just use visualization and breathing techniques to work my way through it, and I over-prepare (or occasionally under-prepare just for something different). This I couldn't cope with though. I would lay awake, waiting for Bubs to wake up so I could pull her into bed with me and cuddle her and maybe get a few hours of sleep. During the day I would find myself nearly paralyzed and unable to do much of anything except attend to Bubs needs.
I spoke with my doctor about this (while there for another reason) and she pretty much just told me to google cognitive behavior therapies. Thanks, doc. Maybe I should lose some weight too, since that is obviously the cause of all ills (d'ya hear the sarcasm?). Doctor aside, I decided to try this first. I don't want to go to therapy, and I am just the kind of analytical enough to give it a go. Mostly, most of the time, this is working for me. I am feeling much better now. I can sleep. I can function. Maybe more daylight and warmer weather have helped too, but I feel much more alive and human now.
The State of the Bubs. Right now she is picking through her dinner with the help of a bic pen, but hey, she may actually eat some of it so she can keep the damn pen. She is a fussy fussy eater. And getting molars, which doesn't help. I could bang on and on about this, but she is growing (at 16 months she is still the size of some of the 12 month-er's we meet) and the doc isn't concerned.
She is sleeping in her cot now. At least until the middle of the night when she wakes up and I bring her into bed with the us. Some nights, maybe one in three, she sleeps the whole night. This is such an improvement. And mostly due to the warming weather. She hates blankets with the fire of a thousand suns and kicks them off, gets cold and wakes up (despite the panel heater in her room). Our house is cold. Most NZ houses are cold. Such is life. I hope she can learn to love the blankets though.
Still waiting for her to start using words. She talks alot, but in her own language. She is quite good at getting her point across anyway, and she understands a lot more than it appears, but still nothing. She will "mamamamama" and "dadadada" but not necessarily meaning mama and dada. Since she is quite happy to babble along I am not worried yet. She will start in her own time (and she gets a 2 month lee-way for milestones).
She is the cutest thing ever, and when not teething she is wonderfully delightful. She does have tantrums like nothing else when she doesn't get her own way/isn't allowed to eat catfood/dirt/play with electrical outlets, etc. When she is teething the tantrums come damn near constant. I am sure this is all normal. What I have a problem with are the tantrums around my cooking. Anytime I try to prepare a meal (if the Moose isn't home especially) she clings to my legs, tries to push me out of the kitchen and screams at me. I ignore her, or try to distract her with a toy or tv (the one time of day I turn it on in desperate hopes that she will actually sit down and let me cook!). Sometimes this works, sometimes she screams at me for half an hour +. This has been going on for months and is driving me a wee bit mental. I am hoping it is a phase and soon it will end.
The State of the Moose. I should do an entire post on how Bubs makes a better bedfellow (snoring, cold feet, etc), but I am not going to- this is getting long enough and it has taken me 3-4 sessions so far just to get this far. Lets just say marriage is hard enough, and it is even harder with a toddler in the picture. But we are surviving and still happy to be with each other. One quick story- I asked him to watch Bubs for a few minutes while I put some laundry away- she was playing in the doorway and he was a few feet away on the sofa (sliding glass door = our front door). Our bedroom looks out on the veranda a short distance from the door, so I peeked out the window at Bubs. She saw me and came over to see me, so I picked her up through the window and she and I put a few socks away. No sound from the Moose (who was looking at some papers). So I called out "Bubby, where are you? I haven't heard you for a few minutes, what are you up to?" and within 20 seconds the Moose takes up the call, looks up and realizes she is gone. He booked it out the door and was heading down the veranda towards the drive (which we share with two other houses) when we popped out of the window and said "Boo!". He was not impressed, but I think he learned his lesson.
Trigger warning number 2... I am guessing you can guess where this is going so if you want to look away do so now.
Toffee yawning
The State of the Uterus. I am 18 weeks pregnant today. We got lucky on our second cycle attempt for number 2. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, mostly in regards to what I would say on this blog, what this means, and how I identify myself. I didn't expect this to happen so quickly.
It took us 2 years to get Bubs. 2 years. It took 2 months to get pregnant again. I don't know what this means exactly. I am not infertile (as we proved with Bubs) but I think I am not sub-fertile either. I don't know what I am exactly, but I do know that this blog is no longer appropriate considering the original purpose.
I identify more closely with being a mum to a preemie and a pre-eclampsia survivor than I do with in/sub-fertility, and I have for some time. The 6 weeks in the NICU and the experience with pre-eclampsia have coloured my life far more than the 2 years of TTC. I think blogging here, in the early pre-Bubs days (and during that pregnancy), and even more importantly reading other blogs and interacting with other bloggers has given me an insight that probably most fertile women do not have. I choose my words more carefully when talking to women about babies, TTC, etc and I am careful not to be an obnoxious social media poster (oh, good lord, someone the other day tagged my pregnant cousin with a "tag a pregnant woman who is beautiful" type thing and I felt annoyed on behalf of all women who will see crap like that and find it hurtful). I will be forever understanding of the struggles of so many, and I will do what I can (even though it may be little more than listen and acknowledge) to help (if I could knock you all up, I would) and I will never ever tell anyone to "just relax" or "just adopt" or any of those annoying, ignorant, hurtful things.
I do realize that I cannot wrap cotton wool around everyone, and that my words, actions, or mere existence may cause pain to some. For that I am sorry, but I feel I should give this blog some closure as opposed to simply disappearing from it without a word. My plan is to include one more post- on the conclusion of this pregnancy. I will leave that post up for a few weeks (or longer if I forget) and then I will probably delete this blog. I don't think it will be that helpful for women starting out on their own journeys- I was blogging for such a short time before I got pregnant with Bubs. If I don't delete it, I might just have a one post abridged version of our story. I am still waffling a bit on what to do. I do know that I won't be blogging anymore, here or elsewhere. I just don't have the time, or the words. Sometimes I have ideas, things I want to put out there...but I just can't. Maybe one day in the future. Probably the distant future.
So this isn't quite goodbye for now, or maybe for good (I am still reading blogs and commenting when I get the chance). See you in a few months.
In case anyone is wondering, a few (interesting?) things from this pregnancy (look away if you need to, this is wrapping up this long long post so there is no reason to hang around)
- I have a "good chance" of making it to 34 weeks this time before pre-eclampsia hits me again (personal goal is 36 weeks).
- I lost nearly 10 kg in 6 weeks before getting preggers. With Bubs I also dropped some weight before we conceived her. Don't know if there is something to this. (No, I was not losing weight in any sort of healthy way- extreme calorie counting goes hand in hand with someone attempting to feel in control of something)
- I was breastfeeding up until I was 8 weeks pregnant. I had no burny stabby nips until about a month after Bubs was weaned. A perk to breastfeeding while pregnant I guess? Weaning, by the way, was fine for the first two days, then I felt like I was hit by a truck for about 3 days, then I felt better. No idea. Bubs took to weaning just fine.
- BBT charting was showing that my body kept trying to ovulate and just took a few days to get there, even after the fertile cm disappeared. So every dip in temps resulted in a bonk, even if I thought perhaps ovulation had already happened.
- No puking again, but nausea was pretty rough, and it is still hanging around a few times a week.
- My midwife (same as before) is 6 weeks more pregnant than I am...if I make it to 34 and she goes to 40, we could have our babies at roughly the same time. I find this amusing.
- No bleeding this time (yet) and my blood pressures are on their way down towards mid pregnancy.
- I am on 100mg aspirin and calcium supplements. I have a doc and a midwife.
- One and only beta draw at 12dpo was rather high (500+) and I was freaked out about twins for awhile. No twins, only one Bubs.
- Every beer I have ever had in my life is on display- I look heaps more pregnant than I am but it is all jiggly beer belly. I am still in non-maternity clothes somehow and I have only gained 2kgs (about 5lbs). I don't know how this is possible. *I have been stone cold sober since before conception- part of the calorie cutting. I miss beer.
- I suspect this is actually my uterus getting excited and wanting another chance to try to kill me again.
Monday, 30 May 2016
lunch time update
Just a quick update while Bubs finishes up her lunch (she is feeding herself all of a sudden- banana and toasted sandwich fingers will soon be on the floor).
I am not preggers. Totally convinced myself that I was. 7dpo- implantation dip, 8dpo- start of triphasic pattern, 9dpo- odd one of low temp, 10dpo- another low temp and wtf is that?? My period??? WTF? I have a 14 day luteal phase. Sometimes 13 days. Apparently not this time round. Although the bleeding cleared at 12dpo, it started up again the next day. So the burny nips and nausea I had must have been in my head as there was nary a faint line to be seen on any of the 3 FRERS I peed on. Well, I swore I saw a line, but honestly, I am pretty sure I didn't.
In other news, my Bubs Diet is working. That is when you pretty much only eat what the toddler refuses during the day, and just a small breakfast and dinner (whatever can be eaten in the time it takes Bubs to empty her sippy cup and dump her food on the floor and decide she is done). I am down about 6 kilos. So yay.
Today I am going to quit my job. Double yay! I don't do much, and I want to do even less, and it has been stressing me out and causing undue anxiety so I am done. Just gotta go tell the boss.
Lunch is finished. Ta ta for now.
I am not preggers. Totally convinced myself that I was. 7dpo- implantation dip, 8dpo- start of triphasic pattern, 9dpo- odd one of low temp, 10dpo- another low temp and wtf is that?? My period??? WTF? I have a 14 day luteal phase. Sometimes 13 days. Apparently not this time round. Although the bleeding cleared at 12dpo, it started up again the next day. So the burny nips and nausea I had must have been in my head as there was nary a faint line to be seen on any of the 3 FRERS I peed on. Well, I swore I saw a line, but honestly, I am pretty sure I didn't.
In other news, my Bubs Diet is working. That is when you pretty much only eat what the toddler refuses during the day, and just a small breakfast and dinner (whatever can be eaten in the time it takes Bubs to empty her sippy cup and dump her food on the floor and decide she is done). I am down about 6 kilos. So yay.
Today I am going to quit my job. Double yay! I don't do much, and I want to do even less, and it has been stressing me out and causing undue anxiety so I am done. Just gotta go tell the boss.
Lunch is finished. Ta ta for now.
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Where we are at
I am debating whether or not to stop blogging. I always envisioned taking this blog more seriously, posting thoughtful, well written posts, but I just can't be bothered, and I honestly don't have that much time. Maybe one day in the future I will pick up and do a parenting blog. Probably not, but maybe. In the meantime I will just post here every now and again with a quick update, until I am ready to completely stop.
The bubs in nearly one!! She has 3 chompers, crawls and pulls her self up, and also is a bit feral. Seriously. This child growls. We call her Beezlebub (I need an old priest and a young priest!). But it replaced the screeching, so I will take it for the sake of my ears. She also head bunts things she likes, as a cat does. I think this started because I used to give her eskimo kisses and nuzzles, so I think her version is a head bunt. Either that or she thinks she is a cat. She likes bath time, family feud (the NZ version- it is on before the news), toast (especially if it is mine), yogurt, the cats and all cat like things and pulling grass up from the ground. She hates any food I try to feed her, feeding herself, when her rolly turtle flips on his side, the 5 minutes she has to wait for me to get breakfast ready (even though she will only eat a few bites) and nappy changes (she goes into a crocodile death roll and I try not to get poo everywhere). The thing I am loving most right now is how much she looks like a frog when she is crawling about the house, and peeking at her around furniture. She loves peek-a-boo.
TTC #2. We are 7dpo. Could be an implantation dip on the chart (if the temp goes up tomorrow that is), but I don't have much hope for this cycle- our timing was off due to a trip and a teething bubs. Before my delayed ovulation I was feeling confident, just like when we first started trying for Bubs way back when. But no peeing on sticks, no obsessing for me this time around, because the Bubs in on the march and playing with her toys one minute, trying to get into the rubbish the next. Of course, I say that now at 7dpo...lets see how I feel about it in 4 days or so.
So here is a cute pic of my Bubs.
The bubs in nearly one!! She has 3 chompers, crawls and pulls her self up, and also is a bit feral. Seriously. This child growls. We call her Beezlebub (I need an old priest and a young priest!). But it replaced the screeching, so I will take it for the sake of my ears. She also head bunts things she likes, as a cat does. I think this started because I used to give her eskimo kisses and nuzzles, so I think her version is a head bunt. Either that or she thinks she is a cat. She likes bath time, family feud (the NZ version- it is on before the news), toast (especially if it is mine), yogurt, the cats and all cat like things and pulling grass up from the ground. She hates any food I try to feed her, feeding herself, when her rolly turtle flips on his side, the 5 minutes she has to wait for me to get breakfast ready (even though she will only eat a few bites) and nappy changes (she goes into a crocodile death roll and I try not to get poo everywhere). The thing I am loving most right now is how much she looks like a frog when she is crawling about the house, and peeking at her around furniture. She loves peek-a-boo.
TTC #2. We are 7dpo. Could be an implantation dip on the chart (if the temp goes up tomorrow that is), but I don't have much hope for this cycle- our timing was off due to a trip and a teething bubs. Before my delayed ovulation I was feeling confident, just like when we first started trying for Bubs way back when. But no peeing on sticks, no obsessing for me this time around, because the Bubs in on the march and playing with her toys one minute, trying to get into the rubbish the next. Of course, I say that now at 7dpo...lets see how I feel about it in 4 days or so.
So here is a cute pic of my Bubs.
Wednesday, 20 April 2016
Double Whammy
A few weeks ago I was at the grocery store checkout when this happened:
Old lady clerk (bagging my groceries): "She is so cute. How old is she?"
Me: "ten months."
Old lady: "So are you pregnant again?"
Me (shocked and sheepishly looking at my belly which has grown suspiciously large due to choclate and beer): "No!"
A few moments later
Old lady: "She has such long eyelashes. Where does she get those from?"
Me: <points to own obviously long eyelashes, resists urge to smack the old lady)
Ugh.
Old lady clerk (bagging my groceries): "She is so cute. How old is she?"
Me: "ten months."
Old lady: "So are you pregnant again?"
Me (shocked and sheepishly looking at my belly which has grown suspiciously large due to choclate and beer): "No!"
A few moments later
Old lady: "She has such long eyelashes. Where does she get those from?"
Me: <points to own obviously long eyelashes, resists urge to smack the old lady)
Ugh.
Tuesday, 8 March 2016
Back on the horse? Soon...
So I think I have convinced the Moose that we need to have a second bubby.
I think his concerns were part financial, part my health, and part "oh my god how can we handle two?". All of which are valid.
How did I convince him? I have no fricken clue. I mentioned it a few times. I thought I was going to have to work at it hard and was just laying groundwork.
So here is the plan.
I am off the mini-pill. I went off it because I couldn't remember to take them at the same time and kept getting my period every second week, and ain't nobody got time for that shit (or money for tampons). We are still using condoms and will continue to do so. I will start charting again as soon as I can remember to do it in the mornings. I will try to lose some weight and work on my kegels like mad.
Once Bubs is one year old (in 3 months!!!), hopefully we will start weening her off the boob. At that time we will cease using condoms. If I am charting, we will chart. If not, I think we will just do a not preventing not trying but sort of trying to get the timing right.
I am pretty sure I will be able to get pregnant again. After all, charting my fertility (and peeing on lots of sticks at 9dpo, 10dpo, 11dpo, etc) revealed I was getting pregnant and losing them early. So statistically I will have a good chance of a few more early losses and that will suck, but I will be sure to get to the doc each time and push for some repeat pregnancy loss testing. With a little luck we will be up the duff by the time Bubs is 18 months. **I was told by most midwives to wait 18 months before trying, by a doctor and a midwife or two to wait 12 months, and by another doc to wait 6 months. And she was the older more experienced doctor!! I figured I would take the middle road, given my age and the Moose's, and the fact that it did take us two years to get a sticky bub.
If it doesn't happen because we either never get up the duff, or if we have too many losses (number I can handle yet to be determined), then we are shit out of luck. We won't qualify for publicly funded fertility treatments, and we won't be willing to dig deep into the pocket book (which we might have done if we hadn't had Bubs). So in that case it is one and done.
This is going to sound stupid and pessimistic, but I know if I get pregnant again I will get pre-eclampsia again. It is just an irrational feeling I have. Hopefully I don't get it and I am wrong. What I am banking on is that pre-eclampsia in a second pregnancy tends to happen later and be less severe. Bubs was born at 32 weeks. If the next one hangs on to 34, or better yet 36 or later, that would be great! Anecdotally speaking, the sister of a friend had her first at 34 weeks, her second at 36 and her third basically full term, pre-eclampsia in each even with an aspirin regime.
I am willfully forgetting all the anxiety of my pregnancy with Bubs. Will it return in a second one? I think so. I just think I would be so busy with Bubs I might not have too much time to think about it. And I have already googled everything pre-eclampsia related, so that's done. Pre-eclampsia aside, I had a really easy time with Bubs. Which I think means if I do get preggers again I will have to spend at least the first four months with my head in the loo. And the next however many with roids. I think it somehow balances the universe.
So I had intended to stop blogging, but since I might be back on the horse soon...maybe I will keep it going. Maybe I will blog about trying to get up the duff again.
I think his concerns were part financial, part my health, and part "oh my god how can we handle two?". All of which are valid.
How did I convince him? I have no fricken clue. I mentioned it a few times. I thought I was going to have to work at it hard and was just laying groundwork.
So here is the plan.
I am off the mini-pill. I went off it because I couldn't remember to take them at the same time and kept getting my period every second week, and ain't nobody got time for that shit (or money for tampons). We are still using condoms and will continue to do so. I will start charting again as soon as I can remember to do it in the mornings. I will try to lose some weight and work on my kegels like mad.
Once Bubs is one year old (in 3 months!!!), hopefully we will start weening her off the boob. At that time we will cease using condoms. If I am charting, we will chart. If not, I think we will just do a not preventing not trying but sort of trying to get the timing right.
I am pretty sure I will be able to get pregnant again. After all, charting my fertility (and peeing on lots of sticks at 9dpo, 10dpo, 11dpo, etc) revealed I was getting pregnant and losing them early. So statistically I will have a good chance of a few more early losses and that will suck, but I will be sure to get to the doc each time and push for some repeat pregnancy loss testing. With a little luck we will be up the duff by the time Bubs is 18 months. **I was told by most midwives to wait 18 months before trying, by a doctor and a midwife or two to wait 12 months, and by another doc to wait 6 months. And she was the older more experienced doctor!! I figured I would take the middle road, given my age and the Moose's, and the fact that it did take us two years to get a sticky bub.
If it doesn't happen because we either never get up the duff, or if we have too many losses (number I can handle yet to be determined), then we are shit out of luck. We won't qualify for publicly funded fertility treatments, and we won't be willing to dig deep into the pocket book (which we might have done if we hadn't had Bubs). So in that case it is one and done.
This is going to sound stupid and pessimistic, but I know if I get pregnant again I will get pre-eclampsia again. It is just an irrational feeling I have. Hopefully I don't get it and I am wrong. What I am banking on is that pre-eclampsia in a second pregnancy tends to happen later and be less severe. Bubs was born at 32 weeks. If the next one hangs on to 34, or better yet 36 or later, that would be great! Anecdotally speaking, the sister of a friend had her first at 34 weeks, her second at 36 and her third basically full term, pre-eclampsia in each even with an aspirin regime.
I am willfully forgetting all the anxiety of my pregnancy with Bubs. Will it return in a second one? I think so. I just think I would be so busy with Bubs I might not have too much time to think about it. And I have already googled everything pre-eclampsia related, so that's done. Pre-eclampsia aside, I had a really easy time with Bubs. Which I think means if I do get preggers again I will have to spend at least the first four months with my head in the loo. And the next however many with roids. I think it somehow balances the universe.
So I had intended to stop blogging, but since I might be back on the horse soon...maybe I will keep it going. Maybe I will blog about trying to get up the duff again.
Monday, 29 February 2016
Mind games
Reasons no longer being pregnant can sometimes be a mind-fuck (and still is 9 months later):
*I am not.
- I look more pregnant now that I did when I was pregnant. My tum is rather gravity defying too (but definitely more slouch-y than when I was preggers).
- My sense of smell is still insane. Someone lit a cigarette on the other side of town? I can smell it. Hold bubs, I can smell you on her clothes for hours. I can smell Bubs' solid foods long after she has eaten them (I suspect on my nips from her post-solid breast feed).
- Gag. Gaggy gag gag gag. Foods I used to like I can no longer eat. Goodbye Jimmy's pies.
- What the hell was that? Is this gas? Are we sure there isn't something in here? What the hell did they do to my insides to make them feel all fluttery and kick-like? Seriously two or three days after Bubs was evicted there were ghost kicks going on down there. And from time to time, I still feel them. My uterus is haunted.
- I waddle. Ok, that has to do with weight gain and time spent on the floor playing with Bubs. I can fix this.
- I leak pee. Yup, still working on those kegels. Also, this is totally not fair because I delivered at 32 weeks the size of a baby at 28 weeks via the sunroof. This means my ute has not really experienced a third trimester!! Ergo what the fuck pelvic floor.
- Where is my mind? Serious baby brain is not so different from pregnancy brain. The other day I got all confused when we got a note from the vet saying Toffs was due for her annual check up. Because she gets those early in the year, not at the end of the year. Because clearly February is the end of the year. Ugh. There have been others. Oh so many others.
*I am not.
Sunday, 28 February 2016
Sleeping like a baby
I have a huge problem with the expression "sleep like a baby". It is supposed to mean sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world, all peaceful expressions and loveliness.
(Just after typing the above, Bubs woke up. Half an hour after she had been put to bed.)
Bubs sleeps a total of 11 hours in any 24 hour period, on average. If she naps for 1 hour, there will be 10 hours of sleep overnight. If she naps for 3 hours, there will be 8 hours of sleep. We are up anytime between 6 and 8 am, often nap for half an hour in the morning, and then have an afternoon nap of 1-3 hours after lunch. No napping is allowed after 4:30pm, except 10 minute cat naps at the boob if she is really really grumpy (doesn't happen often and I don't count it as part of her daily total). Then we have a bath at 8:30, then a feed to sleep and she is in her cot by 9:30. Almost every night she wakes up 30 minutes to an hour after going to sleep. Sometimes I can resettle her by touch, but most of the time it is a quick feed back to sleep. She wakes at least once overnight, anytime from 1am to 5am. I change her, feed her, and try to resettle her into her cot. When that doesn't work (and it usually doesn't), she comes into bed with me and punches me in the face for a good half an hour before she finally goes back to sleep. Waking up in the morning takes I think about an hour of being awake a few minutes and falling back asleep for maybe 5 minutes and repeating that over and over. I do count that as a part of her 11 hours of sleep.
I started writing all this stuff down awhile back because I was concerned about how much sleep she wasn't doing. I mean, babies her age should be sleeping something like 14-16 hours? Something like that. I don't remember and I am not willing to look it up.
My goals for her are to go to sleep without being fed to sleep, and to sleep full time (or nearly full time) in her cot. And take her naps in the cot. And for me to go back to sleeping with the Moose instead of on a bed in Bubs' room. I have done very little to get to those goals as of yet. I don't have much of a plan, and kind of want her to take the lead. We both nap on the couch, and even though I have things to do, I would prefer to nap in all my drool-ly glory than actually accomplish something. And with harvest coming up, it will be less disruptive to the Moose if I am in the same room as Bubs. And I could maybe resettle her in the cot every time but it would involve a lot of back and forth with feeding and standing over the cot trying to resettle her. Mostly I would rather get punched in the face for half an hour in my warm bed.
I tried a little bit of sleep training, but I honestly don't think it will work for us. She cried for so long she could hardly breathe and sobbed for ages after that, even when sleeping. I don't want to do that to her, and I don't want to do that to myself. I was really upset about it, I think because I sort of thought sleep training would be like the holy grail of getting her to sleep the way I want her to. That it would answer all my wishes/goals. It stressed me out to no end.
Then a week ago (maybe two?) I stopped worrying about it. I figure the important part is that she gets the sleep she seems to need, and I think she does. I think 11 hours are all she needs. She is not a cranky overtired bubby. A lot of what I deem her being grumpy is actually her getting bored or frustrated with a toy (or her getting annoyed that I haven't noticed the sneak poo she did half an hour ago and is now plastered to bum and nappy). I am getting enough sleep at the moment, and I know that teething and the inevitable colds/flu/bugs going around will shake that up and put me back at sleep deprivation. And it is ok. It won't last.
It seems like most the blogs I follow with babies close to bubs age have had sleep problems as well. It does make me feel better knowing others are suffering too <evil grin>. And hey, we were lucky. Bubs slept like a champ for her first 4 or 5 months or so. I used to have set my alarm to make sure she was up for her feeds. And we still are lucky in that when she wakes up in the middle of the night she is happy and she doesn't cry. Many times she resettles quickly and we are usually up only half an hour, maybe an hour, in the middle of the night.
But I think I will still want to punch the person who says that someone "sleeps like a baby" in the face. Unless of course, they use it to mean sleep like a real baby. You know, not at all.
(Just after typing the above, Bubs woke up. Half an hour after she had been put to bed.)
Bubs sleeps a total of 11 hours in any 24 hour period, on average. If she naps for 1 hour, there will be 10 hours of sleep overnight. If she naps for 3 hours, there will be 8 hours of sleep. We are up anytime between 6 and 8 am, often nap for half an hour in the morning, and then have an afternoon nap of 1-3 hours after lunch. No napping is allowed after 4:30pm, except 10 minute cat naps at the boob if she is really really grumpy (doesn't happen often and I don't count it as part of her daily total). Then we have a bath at 8:30, then a feed to sleep and she is in her cot by 9:30. Almost every night she wakes up 30 minutes to an hour after going to sleep. Sometimes I can resettle her by touch, but most of the time it is a quick feed back to sleep. She wakes at least once overnight, anytime from 1am to 5am. I change her, feed her, and try to resettle her into her cot. When that doesn't work (and it usually doesn't), she comes into bed with me and punches me in the face for a good half an hour before she finally goes back to sleep. Waking up in the morning takes I think about an hour of being awake a few minutes and falling back asleep for maybe 5 minutes and repeating that over and over. I do count that as a part of her 11 hours of sleep.
I started writing all this stuff down awhile back because I was concerned about how much sleep she wasn't doing. I mean, babies her age should be sleeping something like 14-16 hours? Something like that. I don't remember and I am not willing to look it up.
My goals for her are to go to sleep without being fed to sleep, and to sleep full time (or nearly full time) in her cot. And take her naps in the cot. And for me to go back to sleeping with the Moose instead of on a bed in Bubs' room. I have done very little to get to those goals as of yet. I don't have much of a plan, and kind of want her to take the lead. We both nap on the couch, and even though I have things to do, I would prefer to nap in all my drool-ly glory than actually accomplish something. And with harvest coming up, it will be less disruptive to the Moose if I am in the same room as Bubs. And I could maybe resettle her in the cot every time but it would involve a lot of back and forth with feeding and standing over the cot trying to resettle her. Mostly I would rather get punched in the face for half an hour in my warm bed.
I tried a little bit of sleep training, but I honestly don't think it will work for us. She cried for so long she could hardly breathe and sobbed for ages after that, even when sleeping. I don't want to do that to her, and I don't want to do that to myself. I was really upset about it, I think because I sort of thought sleep training would be like the holy grail of getting her to sleep the way I want her to. That it would answer all my wishes/goals. It stressed me out to no end.
Then a week ago (maybe two?) I stopped worrying about it. I figure the important part is that she gets the sleep she seems to need, and I think she does. I think 11 hours are all she needs. She is not a cranky overtired bubby. A lot of what I deem her being grumpy is actually her getting bored or frustrated with a toy (or her getting annoyed that I haven't noticed the sneak poo she did half an hour ago and is now plastered to bum and nappy). I am getting enough sleep at the moment, and I know that teething and the inevitable colds/flu/bugs going around will shake that up and put me back at sleep deprivation. And it is ok. It won't last.
It seems like most the blogs I follow with babies close to bubs age have had sleep problems as well. It does make me feel better knowing others are suffering too <evil grin>. And hey, we were lucky. Bubs slept like a champ for her first 4 or 5 months or so. I used to have set my alarm to make sure she was up for her feeds. And we still are lucky in that when she wakes up in the middle of the night she is happy and she doesn't cry. Many times she resettles quickly and we are usually up only half an hour, maybe an hour, in the middle of the night.
But I think I will still want to punch the person who says that someone "sleeps like a baby" in the face. Unless of course, they use it to mean sleep like a real baby. You know, not at all.
Tuesday, 23 February 2016
Quick pics because Bubs is awake again
Just a few quick pics. And for the record, Cleo doesn't go into the crib when Bubs is in there. I allow her to sleep there during the day, with a blanket down, but she has no interest in even going into Bub's room at night. The photo above was staged.
Saturday, 20 February 2016
De-cluttering
It has been awhile.
Things were a bit rough here, but I think they are getting better. I will get into that later. First the good stuff.
So a (not so) quick update on the Bubs.
The struggles.
First of all sleep. For awhile I was lucky to be getting four hours a night. We went through a phase where Bubs was up every 2 hours for anywhere from half an hour to just over an hour. That was rough. She can't seem to resettle herself very often, and is suddenly wide awake with a really cheeky smile ready to play. Not fun at 2 am and again at 4 am and again at 6 am when I finally give up on the thought of getting any sleep. Oh yeah, and this is after fighting bedtime and staying up until 11 or even sometimes midnight. Anyway, she seems to be doing a little better now but the lack of sleep has been taking a toll on me. And a month ago I hit a patch of insomnia and that made everything hideous.
I've been so tired I can't concentrate, I can barely function, and I have little to no patience. There have been nights when I have wanted to put my head through the wall. Nights when I just cry because she won't sleep. I was concerned for awhile that I might be developing some depression issues, but then things got better. It is something I still watch out for and if things get bad I will go see my doc. Sometimes it is hard to tell between what is normal day to day stuff and what is more serious. Right now I am mostly good, and the bad days I have are fewer. I think things are getting better.
Which brings me to the Moose. I know he is working hard to support us, but there have been days when I just want to smack him one or give him a good yell. Days when he comes home and falls asleep on the sofa, leaving me to cook and entertain an inevitably grumpy bubby. Days when it seems he would rather spend hours on his kindle than any time with his daughter. I get that he needs to unwind and relax after a hard day at work, and it is a hard day's work in the vineyards, but I always feel like I owe him one when I ask for help, and I have started to resent that, and to resent him. There have been days when I wonder if our marriage will survive this. I think it will, but during those times, I really do wonder. And...
By the time we came back from the NICU (6 weeks after Bubs was born) I was ready to resume sexy times (I was on the pill). For whatever reason, the Moose wasn't. I took that rejection a bit hard I think, and in turn all sexy times have pretty much come to an end except an obligatory once a month bonk (once every 6 weeks??). It sucks. So...
Because I am sleep deprived and stressed, I have been binge eating again. My exercises and daily walks have dwindled away. I have put on more weight, none of my clothes fit right, and I am tired and sore all the time. I hate it. Which makes me feel like a whale. Which puts me out of the mood for sexy times and makes me more resentful towards the Moose, which makes me want to bake a cake and eat half of it. Arg.
But things are getting better. The Moose is getting better at helping out, I am getting better at not bitching at him, Bubs is...well...not getting better with sleep and teething must be just around the corner so that will be fun, but it won't last forever. That has become my new mantra really. It is just a phase. All babies do this sort of stuff. It won't last forever. One day you will get to sleep again.
I went off the pill. I had to. I couldn't remember to take the damned thing and since it was the mini-pill every time I forgot to take it I got my damned period. And I am still bitter about getting it 7 weeks postpartum while exclusively breast feeding. Anyway, with the lack of much physical intimacy and a few ancient but not yet expired condoms, we have so far been avoiding any possible baby making sex. The Moose doesn't want a second child. He hasn't said it, but I am pretty sure that is the case. I (mostly) want a second child. And if we are going to have a second child, I want to start trying when Bubs turns one year old. There are some issues there and I was going to write about it, but I have now wasted about 2 hours when I could have been sleeping or having a shower and I know I will regret it tomorrow. So I will save that one for another day.
I just want to say that while this has been the hardest thing I have ever done, it has been completely worth it and I do not regret it nor would I change a thing. The above ranting and rambling was to de-clutter my muddled brain. Things may have been rough the past few months, but we are coping and we will get through this phase.
Things were a bit rough here, but I think they are getting better. I will get into that later. First the good stuff.
So a (not so) quick update on the Bubs.
- She will be 9 months next week and is up to 13 1/2 lbs! She is in percentiles. Like for her actual age. Just touching the bottom, but still. Actually, she was there last well child appointment, which must have been in December or late November, but I don't think I mentioned that.
- She can sit on her own but not for too long without crashing. This is usually followed by crying. She still hates tummy time. I am doing everything I can think of to make it more enjoyable for her, but she just gets fed up and rolls over onto her back and cries, or gets stuck on her tummy and cries. She gets visits from a physiotherapist to check on her development, and at the moment there are no concerns. She isn't hitting milestones early, but she isn't expected to.
- She is eating solid food now. She frequently makes a face indicating it is the most awful thing to ever get put in her mouth, but she eventually relaxes and even enjoys it. Or makes these feral noises at me indicating she is bored. Then I have to sing to her. Dinner theatre.
- She is very serious around 99% of all people on the planet (excepting myself and the Moose of course), but yesterday she smiled at a stranger going to the neighbor's house, and without the lady even talking to her or looking at her for that matter. She has a hilarious set of laughs. One is like a squack-y bird, another is a Beavis and Butthead sort of he-he he-he he-he and another is a cute little Muttley laugh. Things that make her laugh- shadow puppets, her daddy making a monkey sound, the washing the dishes song, any sneeze or hiccup done by someone other than her and games of peek (like peekaboo but without the aboo and done in a very high pitch voice).
- She loves her jolly jumper, being upright, playing with her spoons, my water bottle (the cap is too tight for her to get off- I can't even do it half the time so no fear of choking on it), the cats, and kicking and splashing in the bath.
- Sleep. She hates it. HATES IT. I have been very reluctantly co-sleeping for awhile now because it is the only way I can get more than 2 hours in a row. Our routines are all over the show and my attempts to stick to them get completely overturned by this little sleep-hating demon child. We do bath, breast feed to sleep, put in cot, wake up instantly, feed again to sleep, put in cot, sleep one hour, wake up, cuddle or feed to sleep, put in cot, sleep 2-3 hours (until 2 am give or take 30 minutes), feed to sleep, put in cot, wake up instantly, throw hands in air and co-sleep and hope I don't smother her or lose her in the pillows. Every night. Basically she sleeps 7-8 hours and that time includes being up for any feeds over night. Naps aren't much better. They range from one hour to three hours and are generally taken after a feed on the couch. I then pass out next to her until she wakes up (lately she has had unsettled naps where she is up every 10-20 minutes). I have tried sleep training- she screamed until she could hardly breathe and sobbed for over an hour after I caved and fed her to sleep. Sleep training does not work for us. In fact, I don't think anything will work for us. We are doomed to this sleep routine. I need a time machine so I can go back in time and kick my past self in the ass for always feeding her to sleep. On the bright side, I am not alone. Every blogger I follow with a baby around Bub's age is having the same sort of problems. Therefore I conclude it has nothing to do with me or our bedtime routine and has everything to do with the fact that babies do not want us to sleep. When Bubs is a teenager and wants to sleep in all the time, guess who is going to be getting sweet revenge?? That's right. This girl.
- As revenge is a dish best served upon teenagers, when Bubs reaches that age and her friends come around and they decide to go somewhere, I am going to throw myself at her and start screaming. In fact, I think I will do it every time she goes to the loo or otherwise moves out of my line of sight. Or maybe just moves more than a foot away.
- The cats are doing fine. They are getting used to Bubs although they are not overly drawn to her. Every time she starts to cry or fuss loudly Toffs leaves the house. Cleo doesn't care and will tolerate Bubs "petting" her but she doesn't approach her. Cleo sleeps in her cot but only during the day when Bubs isn't in there, and Toffs hasn't ventured into it yet.
- Work is frustrating, but I am still just working part time from home and even then I tend to shirk my duties a bit more than I should. I am just over it I guess. Ugh. The plan is still for me to go back to work when Bubs turns 2, but money is getting tight. We pay off the mortgage in July and that should ease things up for us a bit. However we are thinking about moving though to a house with a bigger section which would most likely mean taking out a new albeit small mortgage. It would be nice to have space for Bubs to run around and play outside.
The struggles.
First of all sleep. For awhile I was lucky to be getting four hours a night. We went through a phase where Bubs was up every 2 hours for anywhere from half an hour to just over an hour. That was rough. She can't seem to resettle herself very often, and is suddenly wide awake with a really cheeky smile ready to play. Not fun at 2 am and again at 4 am and again at 6 am when I finally give up on the thought of getting any sleep. Oh yeah, and this is after fighting bedtime and staying up until 11 or even sometimes midnight. Anyway, she seems to be doing a little better now but the lack of sleep has been taking a toll on me. And a month ago I hit a patch of insomnia and that made everything hideous.
I've been so tired I can't concentrate, I can barely function, and I have little to no patience. There have been nights when I have wanted to put my head through the wall. Nights when I just cry because she won't sleep. I was concerned for awhile that I might be developing some depression issues, but then things got better. It is something I still watch out for and if things get bad I will go see my doc. Sometimes it is hard to tell between what is normal day to day stuff and what is more serious. Right now I am mostly good, and the bad days I have are fewer. I think things are getting better.
Which brings me to the Moose. I know he is working hard to support us, but there have been days when I just want to smack him one or give him a good yell. Days when he comes home and falls asleep on the sofa, leaving me to cook and entertain an inevitably grumpy bubby. Days when it seems he would rather spend hours on his kindle than any time with his daughter. I get that he needs to unwind and relax after a hard day at work, and it is a hard day's work in the vineyards, but I always feel like I owe him one when I ask for help, and I have started to resent that, and to resent him. There have been days when I wonder if our marriage will survive this. I think it will, but during those times, I really do wonder. And...
By the time we came back from the NICU (6 weeks after Bubs was born) I was ready to resume sexy times (I was on the pill). For whatever reason, the Moose wasn't. I took that rejection a bit hard I think, and in turn all sexy times have pretty much come to an end except an obligatory once a month bonk (once every 6 weeks??). It sucks. So...
Because I am sleep deprived and stressed, I have been binge eating again. My exercises and daily walks have dwindled away. I have put on more weight, none of my clothes fit right, and I am tired and sore all the time. I hate it. Which makes me feel like a whale. Which puts me out of the mood for sexy times and makes me more resentful towards the Moose, which makes me want to bake a cake and eat half of it. Arg.
But things are getting better. The Moose is getting better at helping out, I am getting better at not bitching at him, Bubs is...well...not getting better with sleep and teething must be just around the corner so that will be fun, but it won't last forever. That has become my new mantra really. It is just a phase. All babies do this sort of stuff. It won't last forever. One day you will get to sleep again.
I went off the pill. I had to. I couldn't remember to take the damned thing and since it was the mini-pill every time I forgot to take it I got my damned period. And I am still bitter about getting it 7 weeks postpartum while exclusively breast feeding. Anyway, with the lack of much physical intimacy and a few ancient but not yet expired condoms, we have so far been avoiding any possible baby making sex. The Moose doesn't want a second child. He hasn't said it, but I am pretty sure that is the case. I (mostly) want a second child. And if we are going to have a second child, I want to start trying when Bubs turns one year old. There are some issues there and I was going to write about it, but I have now wasted about 2 hours when I could have been sleeping or having a shower and I know I will regret it tomorrow. So I will save that one for another day.
I just want to say that while this has been the hardest thing I have ever done, it has been completely worth it and I do not regret it nor would I change a thing. The above ranting and rambling was to de-clutter my muddled brain. Things may have been rough the past few months, but we are coping and we will get through this phase.
Wednesday, 13 January 2016
Happy New Year blah blah going to sleep now bye
I have three posts that I am writing in my head and just can't seem to get around to writing. Not doing it now because sleep. But they are coming. Soon. I hope.
Meanwhile here is a cute Bubs from the past few months.
My Halloween Octo-bubby. I spent ages making those tentacles out of cut up pants that no longer fit.
Christmas Bubs...
And finally the "not so keen on selfies" Bubs from a hike with her mama.
Ok...sleep now for me. Adios.
Meanwhile here is a cute Bubs from the past few months.
My Halloween Octo-bubby. I spent ages making those tentacles out of cut up pants that no longer fit.
Christmas Bubs...
And finally the "not so keen on selfies" Bubs from a hike with her mama.
Ok...sleep now for me. Adios.
Wednesday, 28 October 2015
October Thoughts
Last October we suffered our last early miscarriage.
Last October Bubs was conceived the cycle following that last loss. We didn't find out until November, but October 25th, give or take 24 hours, wee Bubs was created. A year ago she was just a group of cells working her way towards a comfy home in the uterus.
I've been pretty flat out busy with my work project, with wee Bubs, and with moving the Moose's mother to the rest home up here (well, indirectly busy with the last part- the Moose's absence creates more work for me), but all the same I have been thinking a lot lately.
Those early losses, at the time, were a frustration. An obstacle to overcome. They were the loss of a dream, a goal, but not the loss of anything tangent. I don't think I really understood until holding Bubs, and even then, it has taken five months for me to really feel the loss of those other little lives that blinked into existence and just as quickly out. Maybe they were nothing more than cells with a genetic composition that could never mean life, or maybe they didn't stand a chance against a hostile uterus that didn't want them to implant. Maybe they could never have been. But when I look into Bub's eyes, I think about them. Would they have had eyes so blue? Hair so thick and dark? Would they have been smiley, happy bubbies? Would they have been shy, outgoing? Knowing my Bubs has enabled me to feel their loss as I hadn't felt it before. Not just the loss of a dream, but the loss of something real. The loss of little bundles that were a little bit Moose, a little bit Tig.
Now that I have Bubs, I can grieve them in a way I couldn't before. I understand now what I lost. And also what I have. Bubs is an amazing, mischievous little thing with the most amazing smile and often a naughty sparkle in the eye. She is my world.
I was on facebook this morning, and a friend had shared this piece on grief. It is a great read, and I really have to share it. Some people may not agree with it, and may prefer to believe things happen for a reason, and to me that is fine. It just isn't how I look at the world. I don't believe any of my early losses happened so that Bubs would happen. Each event happened, sure, but there is no causation there. Those losses happened. I love my Bubs, and I realize that if any of those earlier pregnancies had stuck, I wouldn't have Bubs. I would have a different Bubs, a Bubs I am sure I would love just as much as I love my Bubs. A different world. Those losses weren't meant to be, they weren't necessary to arrive at my Bubs, to make me love and appreciate her even more. To believe so, I think, cheapens the losses and places a lot of weight on Bub's shoulders.
Now for something a little lighter- my 5 month old cutie:
Last October Bubs was conceived the cycle following that last loss. We didn't find out until November, but October 25th, give or take 24 hours, wee Bubs was created. A year ago she was just a group of cells working her way towards a comfy home in the uterus.
I've been pretty flat out busy with my work project, with wee Bubs, and with moving the Moose's mother to the rest home up here (well, indirectly busy with the last part- the Moose's absence creates more work for me), but all the same I have been thinking a lot lately.
Those early losses, at the time, were a frustration. An obstacle to overcome. They were the loss of a dream, a goal, but not the loss of anything tangent. I don't think I really understood until holding Bubs, and even then, it has taken five months for me to really feel the loss of those other little lives that blinked into existence and just as quickly out. Maybe they were nothing more than cells with a genetic composition that could never mean life, or maybe they didn't stand a chance against a hostile uterus that didn't want them to implant. Maybe they could never have been. But when I look into Bub's eyes, I think about them. Would they have had eyes so blue? Hair so thick and dark? Would they have been smiley, happy bubbies? Would they have been shy, outgoing? Knowing my Bubs has enabled me to feel their loss as I hadn't felt it before. Not just the loss of a dream, but the loss of something real. The loss of little bundles that were a little bit Moose, a little bit Tig.
Now that I have Bubs, I can grieve them in a way I couldn't before. I understand now what I lost. And also what I have. Bubs is an amazing, mischievous little thing with the most amazing smile and often a naughty sparkle in the eye. She is my world.
I was on facebook this morning, and a friend had shared this piece on grief. It is a great read, and I really have to share it. Some people may not agree with it, and may prefer to believe things happen for a reason, and to me that is fine. It just isn't how I look at the world. I don't believe any of my early losses happened so that Bubs would happen. Each event happened, sure, but there is no causation there. Those losses happened. I love my Bubs, and I realize that if any of those earlier pregnancies had stuck, I wouldn't have Bubs. I would have a different Bubs, a Bubs I am sure I would love just as much as I love my Bubs. A different world. Those losses weren't meant to be, they weren't necessary to arrive at my Bubs, to make me love and appreciate her even more. To believe so, I think, cheapens the losses and places a lot of weight on Bub's shoulders.
Now for something a little lighter- my 5 month old cutie:
The hat she is wearing has little bear ears...she just moved around so much it was hard to keep them visible!! It is also hard to believe she is 5 months old!! 5 MONTHS!!!
**I think, given some of the things I said above, I would like to point something out. I am incredibly pro-choice. I know above I spoke of my losses from a "life begins at conception" side. That is sort of how I have looked at it lately. But that is my view, for my situation, in which a baby was desperately wanted, and it doesn't apply to everyone in every situation. I don't want in anyway to imply that my view is the "true" and "only" one. And I don't think I really implied that above, but nonetheless, I feel like it is important for me to add this wee note to my post.
Thursday, 1 October 2015
Housekeeping
I have started up my fitness blog. I have written one post in one week, when I was aiming at posting more, but oh well, it has started. As has, more or less, my attempts at getting fitter. So far so good (or so-so good...I have had lapses). You can find me here. If you want. It will probably be pretty boring for a while (it should get exciting when Bubs is old enough for us to take her tramping, and then there will be stunning photos- not because I am a great photographer, but because we live in such a beautiful place).
In the meantime, I have a few little housekeeping things I am going to do with this blog. I want to link a few things to various posts, update the pages, and generally just make this blog an easy place to navigate for anyone new who stumbles upon it, or for anyone who has been here before and wants to look back at something. I always searched out blogs that seemed similar to what I was going through, even the ones that had been sitting in the dust for a few years, so I assume there are others who do this, who may find this blog, and could find some of it insightful or comforting, or whatever.
I will also pop up a final post. I think my thoughts on the whole thing. Everything. All the things. I am actually going to do it right (even spellcheck it), so it will be sometime before that happens. I have got a massive work project that I need to get done in the next two months, and Bubs is very good at helping me procrastinate. I will be lucky if I post it before Christmas.
Of course I will still be reading all the blogs I follow. When I got preggers, I decided I would keep reading all the blogs until all the bloggers got their happy endings. There are still a few of them out there, and I will be cheering them on, lurking and maybe even commenting. But I won't be blogging here anymore. Not until we try to go for baby #2, and even then I have mixed feelings. But I will get into all that on my last post.
Of course, anyone wishing to contact me can email me, or comment on this blog, as I will eventually see it (probably not at first, I don't check that often).
In the meantime, I have a few little housekeeping things I am going to do with this blog. I want to link a few things to various posts, update the pages, and generally just make this blog an easy place to navigate for anyone new who stumbles upon it, or for anyone who has been here before and wants to look back at something. I always searched out blogs that seemed similar to what I was going through, even the ones that had been sitting in the dust for a few years, so I assume there are others who do this, who may find this blog, and could find some of it insightful or comforting, or whatever.
I will also pop up a final post. I think my thoughts on the whole thing. Everything. All the things. I am actually going to do it right (even spellcheck it), so it will be sometime before that happens. I have got a massive work project that I need to get done in the next two months, and Bubs is very good at helping me procrastinate. I will be lucky if I post it before Christmas.
Of course I will still be reading all the blogs I follow. When I got preggers, I decided I would keep reading all the blogs until all the bloggers got their happy endings. There are still a few of them out there, and I will be cheering them on, lurking and maybe even commenting. But I won't be blogging here anymore. Not until we try to go for baby #2, and even then I have mixed feelings. But I will get into all that on my last post.
Of course, anyone wishing to contact me can email me, or comment on this blog, as I will eventually see it (probably not at first, I don't check that often).
Tuesday, 15 September 2015
Coming Soon...
So I have decided to do a fitness blog. It won't be here, as I want a clean slate, but I will provide a link when I eventually get around to creating the page. Hopefully soon.
I need to do this because I am really struggling with my weight. Breastfeeding is not a magical diet for me, it seems. I am up 6kg from my pregnancy weight. I look more pregnant now than I did when I was pregnant!! And I want to eat all the things, especially the chocolate things. Self control is not strong at the moment. Blogging will help keep me accountable, I hope.
So my goal is to have a page created and a first post written by the end of the week. I just need to figure out a plan that will work for me and my dieting beliefs (which are basically that diets don't work).
And Bubs is 4 months old today!!! My goal for her is to force her to do more tummy time (oh the screams and the tears I have to look forward to here!!), and start using the cloth nappies more. But the good news is I have got her sleeping longer! Earlier to bed, later to rise!! But she sounds like she is waking up now, which will coincide with laundry in the wash finishing up and brownies needing to come out of the oven (yeah, yeah, I know, brownies are not healthy...I told you I have a problem with the chocolate!).
I need to do this because I am really struggling with my weight. Breastfeeding is not a magical diet for me, it seems. I am up 6kg from my pregnancy weight. I look more pregnant now than I did when I was pregnant!! And I want to eat all the things, especially the chocolate things. Self control is not strong at the moment. Blogging will help keep me accountable, I hope.
So my goal is to have a page created and a first post written by the end of the week. I just need to figure out a plan that will work for me and my dieting beliefs (which are basically that diets don't work).
And Bubs is 4 months old today!!! My goal for her is to force her to do more tummy time (oh the screams and the tears I have to look forward to here!!), and start using the cloth nappies more. But the good news is I have got her sleeping longer! Earlier to bed, later to rise!! But she sounds like she is waking up now, which will coincide with laundry in the wash finishing up and brownies needing to come out of the oven (yeah, yeah, I know, brownies are not healthy...I told you I have a problem with the chocolate!).
Saturday, 5 September 2015
NICU Revisited
We have been home from the NICU for two months now. Two months isn't that long, and yet it feels like ages ago, a memory so distant that the reality of it is questionable. Were we really there for 6 weeks? And yet...some things bring it back into such sudden sharpness that it leaves me stunned. A news program featuring some medical advancements, and instantly I can hear the alarms on monitors. I can feel the quiet pressure of parents trying to hold it together day after day after day. The warmth of the room, the dry and cracking skin of hands washed over and over. The silence of babies too little or too sick to cry.
The thing is, I coped well with it at the time by pushing all these things aside. After all, my baby was doing well. She was never in any real danger (apart from that third day when they thought she may have had an infection since she wasn't digesting the tiny amount of milk she was receiving through her ng tube). When meeting with other NICU moms in the parent room, or the pumping station, or just in the hallways, when they asked how she was doing, my answer was always the same. She was doing great. Sometimes I dreaded asking that question back. Sometimes I knew their babies were struggling. And yet they held it together. If they could do this, then I had no business falling apart when things were going so well for me. A sort of survivor's guilt? I don't know.
Last week one of the babies from the NICU passed away. He had been born at 24 weeks, just at 500g, and the doctors initially thought he wouldn't make it. But he did, for 23 weeks. He made it through surgeries, blood transfusions, infections. When I was in the NICU, he and his mum had been there the longest. When I left the NICU, he actually weighed more than Bubs, and was holding his temperature better, even though he still needed oxygen. Everyone thought he would be heading home in September, or maybe October.
I really feel for his parents. His mum (who lived a short distance from the hospital) was in every day, doing skin to skin and feeding him and just sitting with him. For 23 weeks. Her heart must be breaking over and over again. How does she fill her day now? I can't even begin to imagine the feeling of emptiness. Empty arms, empty hours.
A full term but very sick baby died while Bubs and I were still in the NICU, and I remember talking with the other mums about this, about how terrible and awkward we all feel, wheeling breast pumps past grieving families, doing skin to skin in the same room with parents who have only a short time in which they can do the same with their babies. Now this mum, who witnessed the passing of two other NICU babies, has become the grieving parent. When we talked about how horrible it was, I am sure neither of us ever expected to be in those shoes. We were out of the woods. Or so it felt.
After hearing about her wee boy passing away, I just cuddled Bubs all day. I am thankful and lucky. Things could have been so different, and I am so glad to have her here and healthy, despite the rather dramatic early entrance. No matter how much I try, or how distant in the past it gets, the NICU will never really leave me. I will always remember. The other mums and the camaraderie. The grief and the joys. The kindness of the nurses. The stress of maintaining such a routine, day in and day out. The sounds, the smells, the noises, the heaviness of it all. It is all so fuzzy and distant until it is not. Something triggers it. And I do feel it. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I try to think of something else. Sometimes I just pick up Bubs and cuddle her. I am so proud of how far she has come.
The thing is, I coped well with it at the time by pushing all these things aside. After all, my baby was doing well. She was never in any real danger (apart from that third day when they thought she may have had an infection since she wasn't digesting the tiny amount of milk she was receiving through her ng tube). When meeting with other NICU moms in the parent room, or the pumping station, or just in the hallways, when they asked how she was doing, my answer was always the same. She was doing great. Sometimes I dreaded asking that question back. Sometimes I knew their babies were struggling. And yet they held it together. If they could do this, then I had no business falling apart when things were going so well for me. A sort of survivor's guilt? I don't know.
Last week one of the babies from the NICU passed away. He had been born at 24 weeks, just at 500g, and the doctors initially thought he wouldn't make it. But he did, for 23 weeks. He made it through surgeries, blood transfusions, infections. When I was in the NICU, he and his mum had been there the longest. When I left the NICU, he actually weighed more than Bubs, and was holding his temperature better, even though he still needed oxygen. Everyone thought he would be heading home in September, or maybe October.
I really feel for his parents. His mum (who lived a short distance from the hospital) was in every day, doing skin to skin and feeding him and just sitting with him. For 23 weeks. Her heart must be breaking over and over again. How does she fill her day now? I can't even begin to imagine the feeling of emptiness. Empty arms, empty hours.
A full term but very sick baby died while Bubs and I were still in the NICU, and I remember talking with the other mums about this, about how terrible and awkward we all feel, wheeling breast pumps past grieving families, doing skin to skin in the same room with parents who have only a short time in which they can do the same with their babies. Now this mum, who witnessed the passing of two other NICU babies, has become the grieving parent. When we talked about how horrible it was, I am sure neither of us ever expected to be in those shoes. We were out of the woods. Or so it felt.
After hearing about her wee boy passing away, I just cuddled Bubs all day. I am thankful and lucky. Things could have been so different, and I am so glad to have her here and healthy, despite the rather dramatic early entrance. No matter how much I try, or how distant in the past it gets, the NICU will never really leave me. I will always remember. The other mums and the camaraderie. The grief and the joys. The kindness of the nurses. The stress of maintaining such a routine, day in and day out. The sounds, the smells, the noises, the heaviness of it all. It is all so fuzzy and distant until it is not. Something triggers it. And I do feel it. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I try to think of something else. Sometimes I just pick up Bubs and cuddle her. I am so proud of how far she has come.
The first picture of Bubs.
Bubs at 14 weeks.
Friday, 4 September 2015
Three and a half months, with photos!
We've been busy. First getting ready for my parents to visit, then surprisingly busy doing things while they were here, and now deciding that we aren't going to sleep much during the day, and oh yeah, lets both catch a cold.
Anyway, Bubs is three and a half months. A few weeks ago she made it to 7lbs. Not sure what she would be now, but more than that. She is quickly outgrowing her new born sizes, and is mostly fitting 0-3 months. Carters fit her best, because she is long and skinny, and lots of other brands seem to be shorter in the torso or legs, and wider. Anyway, turns out I only have a few things in this size range that fit her well. Bugger.
Anyway, Bubs is three and a half months. A few weeks ago she made it to 7lbs. Not sure what she would be now, but more than that. She is quickly outgrowing her new born sizes, and is mostly fitting 0-3 months. Carters fit her best, because she is long and skinny, and lots of other brands seem to be shorter in the torso or legs, and wider. Anyway, turns out I only have a few things in this size range that fit her well. Bugger.
I buried her in her toys...I love this photo, it looks like she is pretending to be a hairdresser and having a good gossip with teddy.
We set up a "photo shoot" when my mom was here...this one is a bit blurry, but I like how peaceful she looks!
From the photo shoot. This one is my favorite!
A sleepy smile (sleeping on her grandma).
This is the expression we refer to as "bath eyes", because when you put her in a bath, her face freezes this way and she goes still (well, used to, she has discovered wiggling but the face stays the same). She makes this face at things that surprise her, or that she just can't figure out.
Cleo trying to teach Bubs to roll over.
I have to admit, I am slack on tummy time because she hates it so much. She loves to be held upright though, I at least that is something. She has good control of her neck and head then. But we are making an effort now to spend more time on the dreaded tummy. She has rolled from tummy to back about half a dozen times, but she easily gets frustrated and forgets how. She can roll easily in my arms though.
Her head is a bit flattened on the right, and has been since she left the NICU. She strongly prefers that side and it doesn't really matter what you do, she will go back to it. But she is starting to sleep more and more on the left, so I am not too worried. One of the NICU docs who came up this way to see NICU grads that live afar said I should put a wedge on the right to prevent her from lying on that side, but I am choosing to ignore him based on the fact that I don't want her to suffocate! SIDS, SUDI, whichever you call it, I am not about to risk it. The well child nurse agreed with me. Anyway, working on that tummy time now.
As far as my postpartum fun time goes...my parents being here naturally meant that we ate only junk food for 10 whole days. So I am up a few pounds now. Definitely more than I weighed during pregnancy. And now I am used to indulging, so it is going to be even harder to loose. Arg. But the weather is getting nicer so Bubs and I are getting out for walks more now.
My tummy still has some impressive nerve damage that prevents me from wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans for more than a few hours. The fact that the jeans are too tight in the waist wouldn't be too much of an issue otherwise (they have some stretch to them), but the pressure just kills the nerves.
I am still taking the mini pill, and my period has been awol. It had shown up something like 7 or 8 weeks postpartum (grr), but hasn't returned. I am on CD51 I guess, but I am not pregnant, so I will blame the pills and secretly be thankful!
My hair is falling out. More noticeably because it is long enough to be worn in a messy bun, which holds all the hair up there until I take it down to wash it, and then heaps of it comb/wash out. I don't know how different this is to during pregnancy, because my hair during pregnancy was too short to tie back. It is annoying though- I will have to clean the shower drain more often, and I HATE cleaning the shower drain!!
I'll try to write a post about NICU again soon, but not sure when I will get around to it. Bubs keeps me busy. Like me she doesn't like to sleep much during the day. I've been trying to wear her out with play though, and it seems to be working. She actually napped a bit yesterday.
But she is waking up now, and since I should have gone back to bed instead of blogging and internet-ing, I guess I had best skul this cup of coffee!
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