From Bump to Baby

Being Mother

2011-12-30T21:17:00.001-08:00

In a moment of clarity, rare these days, I felt a surge of overwhelming pride in myself for being a mother. Not to sound trite, but it is a privilege and an honour to wear the maternal crown. There is truly no more important role in this world, there is no job whose value outweighs the responsibility of a mother.

In the animal kingdom, a mother fox caught in a trap will chew off her own foot to get back to her kits. The gentlest of creatures will turn ferocious in the face of danger to protect her young. The love I feel towards my children would see me move mountains if that is what it took to prevent my babies from being harmed.

That is not to suggest, however, that giving birth to a child should automatically grant the bearer the right to such an honourable title. I believe such respect needs to be earned.

Over Christmas, my mum was showing my sisters and me the handful of treasures that my nan had kept through her life. I'd seen them all before, but there was one tiny almost worthless brooch I'd never noticed. Just a thin piece of gold-plated metal shaped into the single word "mother" and adorned with a small, pink stone. The brooch was a gift nan had given to her mother. A gift of a title she had earned.

Why I hate childcare for babies

2011-12-05T02:19:00.001-08:00

After returning from Japan and still not knowing what I wanted to do with my life, I took up some casual work in childcare.

I worked primarily at a couple of very good quality centres in an affluent suburb in Sydney. The staff were amazing, the centres were clean, activities well organised. They served nutritious AND delicious freshly cooked meals, which were really so good I promptly stopped bringing my own lunch so I could eat with the kids. I imagine the waiting lists for these places went on for years. I can't imagine childcare centres could get any better.

And yet, working there with the babies and children under 2 years old I witnessed modern life's most miserable (supposed) progression: Babies of breastfeeding age separated from their, let's be honest, mums.

While the very best childcare centres endevour to provide a warm, engaging, happy and caring place for babies, it is simply not right. The most well-adjusted babies seemed disengaged with their actual carers, not overly fussed who bottle fed them their formula or changed their nappy, not completely interested in the book being read to them or which toy to crawl after.

The least well-adjusted babies were simply broken hearted, crying constantly and needing the attention of a single carer with whom they trusted the most, a surrogate mum.

When I look at my 6 month old baby girl and see her eyes light up when I enter the room , her smile bursting from her face, her arms reaching out to me when she wakes. When i hear her delighted giggle. When I watch her fall asleep in my arms, deeply content after a big feed from my breasts... I feel ill at the mere thought of leaving her in the company of strangers.

I cannot imagine handing her over and walking away. She's just a baby and she couldn't possibly understand. It would break her heart for me to suddenly abandon her, and yet...

People do abandon their babies to childcare at such a young age. Even 2 year olds don't understand. I know this because I've seen it first hand, and I have children of my own now who I could never abandon.

Sometimes I honestly wonder why some people have children.

Disclaimer: we've lived on the borderline poverty line for years, so I know all about not being able to afford things. But I made a choice to have children and I'm going to see it through.

Nan's funeral.

2011-11-16T02:47:00.001-08:00

Nanna died. It happened quite quickly. She was 94 years old.

It was quite difficult to explain to Jude. I told him nanny went to sleep and she would never wake up again (which is how it happened). He said "nanny's dreaming", which I thought was a lovely interpretation.

Lilac is only 5 months old and has already attended her first funeral. It's a bit sad for me to think she won't ever remember Nan. Jude will, he loved nanny. That's why I took him to the funeral. I had to take Lilac, and I absolutely didn't want to exclude Jude.

I think people enjoyed having the new generation there. It reminds us of the cycle of life. Auntie Joy held Lilac for ages (that's auntie Joy holding Lilac in the picture, I don't have a photo of Nan on my phone).

I wrote a short impression of my life with Nan and read it at the funeral. While I was speaking and crying, Jude came up and gave my hand a squeeze. He then found a candle lighter and pretended it was a phone. Everyone laughed.

Nan would have laughed and called him cheeky.

With a little help from my friend

2011-10-21T15:58:00.001-07:00

I've been beating myself up for a long time about not being stimulating enough for Jude. The moment Lilac was born I took one look at him and realised he's a big boy now. 8 months of a rough pregnancy had past and I had somehow missed almost a year of Jude's development by being too sick and exhausted to do anything interesting with him.

Now with a little baby in tow, things have far from improved and I've been really worried for Jude. I've started thinking seriously about a day each week at child care for his enjoyment, but I worry about how to keep him stimulated every day of the week.

So I finally stopped being a martyr and enlisted the help of my better half. Jeremy loves spending time with Jude and has always stepped up to the plate when needed. So naturally he has no objection to being asked for help.

This morning he took Jude to swimming lessons, after years of serious neglect in that field. He has also started taking him to a sing and dance session at the local community centre once a week.

This is what being a family, and being parents, is all about. Sharing the responsibility of raising our children and picking up the slack for each other where the other one struggles.

I admit I have always struggled to make time to get out of the house every day in new and interesting ways, as I often get bogged down in housework and trying to make sure the family is well fed and the children get enough rest during the day.

There is a very delicate balance to being a full time stay at home mum. Some women are super mums who can do everything, but I can't and I'm very glad Jeremy is here to help me.

The Wonder Weeks

2011-10-10T20:12:00.000-07:00

A book that is taking the parenting world by storm, The Wonder Weeks, helps parents through those times a baby becomes extra clingy and fussy by explaining they occur due to developmental leaps in the baby's cognitive development. When the baby emerges through the rough patch they have a new skill to show off.

Now, I'm not 100% convinced this book isn't merely yet another money spinner in the vast universe of unnecessary baby paraphernalia, and I haven't personally purchased a copy, but so many people are talking about it I don't need to actually own it.

What I do like about the book, however, is the gentle reminder from time to time that our babies are soft, delicate creatures experiencing new, exciting and difficult challenges constantly with a loooong way to go before they can function even slightly independently. They need from us patience (endless) and understanding.

We, as parents, do find ourselves having days where we just want to scream. The book reminds us also that these times, while testing, are experienced by all parents and, more importantly, do pass... Until a new testing period emerges.

I've lost track of how many weeks old Lilac is, but she's approaching 4 months so around 16 weeks. The Wonder Weeks says there is a change happening now, a big one, and I can assure you Lilac is certainly extra clingy, sleeping poorly and crying more than usual.

The only pro right now is that while I'm holding her to my breast all day, I have a chance to write this blog entry on my phone (the first blog entry in a while).

I wonder if she'll be able to compose her first orchestral piece after this wonder week, or perhaps that change doesn't happen until week 40.

Jude's catchphrase

2011-09-05T03:10:00.001-07:00

I love it when children start picking up little phrases and using them at every opportune, or inopportune, moment.

I remember when my nephew had a new catchphrase every time we saw him. We always noticed and had a good chuckle about how cute he was.

Jeremy commented just yesterday that Jude has started using little funny sayings. We hadn't really taken the time to notice because we're with him every day.

Today I heard him say "I know, mummy, but I'm a little bit silly." He said the same thing again later in the day, and it quickly became his standard reply to everything.

He really is a little bit silly, and quite funny.

Meanwhile, Lilac is busy chattering away. She's a very talktative 11-week old. She has to be talkative to get a word in edgewise in this family.

The cradle swing

2011-08-16T16:33:00.001-07:00

When Jude was a baby, we lived in a 2 bedroom apartment by the sea. It was a lovely location but space inside the apartment was seriously limited.

At the time, I knew several mums who had splashed out on expensive swings. They cost a bomb, took up excessive space and surely, surely they were not necessary. In any case, we didn't have one and struggled through many long months with a baby who cat napped and cried a lot.

After having Lilac, I had to concede defeat. Looking after a newborn who was only content when attached to me, while trying to entertain and meet the demands of a nearly 3 year old, was simply too much.

I searched ebay for the right swing, making sure I researched their resale value so I didn't over spend, and I finally invested... Yes, invested in a swing.

It changed my life in an instant. Lilac took to it eagerly and I have been able to function during the day as a result of her sleeping peacefully for hours at a time.

Now, if only we could get her sleeping that well in her bassinette at night.

The 2 kid shuffle

2011-07-25T22:08:00.001-07:00

Newly born newborns are deceptively good. For the first 2 or 3 weeks they're relatively easy to work with. They sleep constantly, aren't woken easily and don't seem to care where they're sleeping. Well, that's my experience. I know some newborns are more difficult.

During those first few weeks I was pretty happy about having a chance to get things done around the house, like vacuuming and cooking. While Jude has taken this opportunity to stop sleeping consistently through the day, his needs were fairly simple to meet while Lilac was asleep.

However, Lilac will be 6 weeks old in 2 days and somewhere along the line dealing with the needs of 2 children at exactly the same time has become challenging.

Lilac now knows when mum is not around as her eyesight is improving. If she opens her eyes slightly in her sleep and fails to see me she wakes up crying out for me.
Meanwhile Jude has decided that months and months of toilet use were practise for weeing on the floor, his bed and the couch so I am running around like a headless chicken cleaning up his accidents, trying to clear away the breakfast dishes at 5PM and cradling Lilac in my arms because she won't let me put her down.

I have been heard in recent weeks asking why children don't come with an off switch. It would be quite nice.

The birth of Lilac.

2011-07-15T20:42:00.000-07:00

Lilac was born a month ago. I've been trying to find a moment to write it down before it's forgotten in a haze of sleep deprivation, but even now she has been awake since her 9.30am feed (it's nearly 2pm) and Jude is also refusing to sleep, despite telling me he wanted to go to bed an hour and a half ago.

The birth itself, before I do forget completely:

1. Leading up
After my 2nd set of bile acid tests returned with significantly degraded results, Dr. Trueman agreed it would bem best to induce labour earlier. In order to maximise Lilac's chances for good health, I needed 2 seperate steroid injections in the days leading up to the induction. I would have a final obstetric appointment wednesday morning and the induction would begin late wednesday night.

Facing so many days running back and forth from the hospital, we decided to get some beach-front accommodation near the hospital, and have a last minute family holiday for the 3 of us (how strange to think of us a family of 3). This was a really great idea, and took a lot of the stress out of the lead up. It also gave Jude and Jeremy somewhere to stay while I was in hospital. It turned out it also gave my parents and my sister a place to stay, too.

2. The induction
Wednesday night rolled around. I kissed my beautiful little man good night and farewell from life as we knew it, and we went to hospital at 9pm. We were given a room in maternity with a double bed. A midwife came by to apply the gel, whatever she did down there hurt like hell and left me feeling violated. In retrospect I think it might have been a stretch and sweep, or perhaps her hands were just very large. I thought they would use those metal things they use for pap smears, but they just used hands and I can't say that is the better choice.

Contractions started almost immediately. I wasn't surprised as I had been having contractions on and off for a week (false or early labour, im not sure but I was 2cm dilated already). The contractions were mild and irregular until about 5am when they woke me up and I started to time them at 5 minutes apart.

3. The birth
Soon a midwife came to move me to the birthing suite. The short walk set things going. The contractions leapt to 2 minutes apart. Dr. Trueman came by and broke my waters. Meconium gushed out. I knew instantly the induction was well timed, I also knew I couldn't mess about or I'd end up in theatre.

There was no chance for resting. As long as I was standing the contractions came on strong, but if I tried to sit down they slowed right down. So I stood and summoned every bit of strength left in me after a month of cholestasis and very little sleep. There wasn't much energy left. As the contractions grew stronger, I grew weaker.

By the time it came to push I was fading. I climbed onto the bed, with the back raised so I could lean over it but remain upright. I felt my cervix stretching. I had not anticipated the pain. And after the cervix stretched came the agony of the stretching vagina. Contractions I could tolerate, but the stretching was beyond my pain tolerance. I started to wonder if it was too late for an epidural, the gas did nothing for the pain.

Dr. Trueman was summoned from theatre, he came and tried to get me to push harder, I was doing the best I could with what little energy was left in me, but I couldn't push through the pain and fear of tearing and exploding haemmohoids gripped me. "That's why they call it the Ring of Fire," the doctor offered. Truer words were never spoken.

Finally after what seemed forever I dumped Lilac unceremoniously out on the bed and looked down to make sure it was real. I scooped her up and rolled over, collapsing onto the bed with my tiny baby safe in my arms.

Induction date set

2011-06-10T19:56:00.001-07:00

I had a second set of bile acid tests. It turns out they've increased steeply since the first test.

The obstetrician and I agree to inducing Lilac at 37.5 weeks, which means she should come safely and joyously into this world on the 16th of June, 2011.

I'm very pleased to have this organised as it has given me some peace of mind and allowed me to organise my parents to look after Jude while the induction is taking place.

I've been getting cramps and other signs that indicate things are already happening in my womb, so I'm hopeful that everything will be favourable to an induction and it will go smoothly.

I'm terribly uncomfortable in the countdown to Wednesday night. There are only 4 days to go, and I just can't wait to hold my beautiful baby girl in my arms and smoother her in kisses.

What a journey we've been on together.

The end of the dream

2011-06-08T00:16:00.000-07:00

At Monday's weekly obstetric appointment I watched the doctor cross out "waterbirth" on my medical record and replace it with "high risk". I knew it was coming, but it was still a shattering disappointment.

This pregnancy has been cruel to me. Let me not mince words about it. I changed hospitals and obstetricians, travelling at least twice the distance, just so I had access to a waterbirth. I have taken bucketloads of supplements every day trying to ward off pre-eclampsia and other ailments. I've managed myself in every conceivable way. I lay on the floor for 2 weeks straight with my bum in the air to ensure Lilac turned from Breech position.

After everything, I thought I was on the home stretch. I thought I had made it. My baby turned, my blood pressure was great, my doctor said "see you again in 3 weeks". I went and bought a waterbirth DVD and I sat and wept with nervous happiness as I watched 5 couples experience their dream births.

Then all of a sudden I found myself "high risk" and the option of a waterbirth was snatched away. Not to mention that I am now sitting here, a bundle of anxiety, desperately waiting for each time Lilac moves to make sure she's still alive.

HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN?

Obstetric Cholestasis

2011-05-31T02:32:00.000-07:00

Well I've really outdone myself this time.

A couple of weeks back I remember remarking to my husband that he was going to have to shave my legs for me (I stopped being able to reach them a few months ago) because they were getting a bit itchy. I thought nothing of it, in fact I did somehow manage to shave them myself.

A few nights later I found myself awake half the night scratching madly at various parts of my body, particularly my wrists and ankles. I was certain I'd been attacked by insects. In fact earlier that day I had declared war on a spider nest and I wondered if I just felt itchy in my head. The next day I woke up and washed the sheets, just to make sure.

However, the itch didn't go away. It hovered incessantly for the rest of the weekend, and I was driven to comment about it on a pregnancy forum where one of the other women remarked that I should talk to my obstetrician. She mentioned something about OC. A quick preliminary search on the internet suggested it was a rare, bothersome condition of the liver in pregnancy but was nothing to worry about.

We were about to head away for a few days, and I was tempted to deal with it when I got back, but something got the better of me and I called my obstetrician first thing Monday morning. He said I needed to come in and I saw him that afternoon. He told me I needed blood tests, which I agreed to go first thing Tuesday morning, just before we left for our holiday. 2 tests were needed, a more immediate liver enzyme test and a bile acid test that takes a week because there are only a few pathology labs in Australia that can process the test.

During the holiday I called for the results of the liver test. He told me my liver enzymes were abnormal. I didn't have proper web access, but I'd been itching and scratching like a crazy person this entire time. The itching had taken over my entire body, particularly at night, attacking the soles of my feet and palms of my hands, causing me agony between my toes, in my ears, nostrils and even my private parts. I was going out of my mind, so at the first available opportunity I decided to do a bit more research into the condition of obstetric cholestasis.

I soon learned that it's not just a bit of an itchy bother, but a dangerous condition of pregnancy leading to a 15% increase chance of stillbirth (increasing steadily after week 37). The normal course of action, therefore, being to induce labour at 37 or 38 weeks, depending on the severity of the condition. Reading this I broke down. I have never cried like that before. It was truly as if the weight of the entire universe crashed down on me. I buried my head on my husband's shoulder and wailed.

As I waited out the rest of the holiday and for the bile acid test results to return, I went through every stage of grief. Grieving for the loss of control over the pregnancy, grieving for the risk to my unborn child, grieving for my inability to provide a safe place for my baby to grow. Denial, anger, depression, bargaining (or fighting in my case), and finally acceptance. Acceptance that I needed to make sure Lilac enters the world safely and nothing else matters.

Finally the next Monday rolled around. I called the obstetrician and he confirmed the bile acids test showed what I already knew, that I had obstetric cholestasis. I went in to see him immediately and I am now under weekly surveillance with more ultrasounds, blood tests and CTG monitoring ahead of me. He said we would induce at 38 weeks unless the condition deteriorates and gave me a prescription for UDCA (ursodeoxycholic acid) the only possible treatment (not cure) for this condition which resolves itself only upon the birth (or death) of the baby.

Having developed pre-eclampsia late in my first pregnancy with Jude, I am a little overwhelmed and even shocked to learn I have this condition. I can not believe it is happening, but it is and I have to deal with it to the best of my ability. Every time Lilac sleeps I sit anxiously waiting for her to wake up and give me a good, reassuring kick. The doctor said 38 weeks, but I am so anxious for her safety it may end up being me who asks for an induction at 37 weeks. This is a big leap from me wanting a natural water birth and having decided early that I would never try to bring on labour, I'd let her sit in there as long as she liked. But with her life on the line, I'm not willing to take a single chance.

Renovation Madness

2011-05-20T22:56:00.001-07:00

I would strongly recommend against renovating your bathrooms in the last trimester of pregnancy.

I have spent every day for the last month or more (god how long has it been?) crawling around on my hands and knees cleaning up cement dust, tile bits, discarded nails, chunks of wood, particle board sawdust... You name it, I've spent time with it recently.

On top of the cleaning I've had my hands full with tradesmen of varying descriptions and levels of competence, some who understood what I was asking and others who either misunderstood or ignored me.

I've had to trawl bathroom supply shops looking for fixtures, making endless phone calls following up on items ordered weeks earlier that I still haven't heard anything about, and had to rush out last minute to buy things the builder suddenly deems vital without warning.

Third trimester fatigue and insomnia has had me in its filthy clutches this entire time and my brain has officially turned to mush. There are just a couple of days left before the renovations are complete, and I'm fighting every cell in my body to stay functioning until it's over, and then some extra energy must be found because the real cleanup begins the day I see the back of the builders, and what a cleanup it will be. There is a thin layer of filmy dust covering every surface and hidden in every nook and cranny throughout the entire house.

Today the builder started presenting me with invoices and final costs while my poor head is screaming for peace. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to deal with figuring out final payments, I'm quite simply not capable of such complex thought.

Back on track

2011-05-16T16:39:00.001-07:00

Every spare moment I could find (which were few and far between) I tried every position I could read about to try to get Lilac to turn head down. Who knows how many hours I actually spent with my backside elevated and my head down, but it was worth it.

After a night of nearly no sleep I drove the death-trap motorway with my eyes half closed down to the hospital on the other side of the city, my hopes pinned on the suspicion I had that one very painful night's sleep was actually caused by a rotating baby.

Amazingly I was right. Lilac has turned around. A quick ultrasound confirmed that her head is in my crotch. The relief I feel is beyond words.

We are back on track for the waterbirth, which is getting increasingly closer. Yesterday marked week 33 of my pregnancy, indicating just 7 weeks to go.

Waterbirth dreaming

2011-05-08T20:29:00.001-07:00

We have been buried in renovations for the last month and I've been head down, bum up cleaning up after builders and, of course, Jude.

That position, the traditional hardworking housewife perpetually cleaning her mud floors and whatever else they did back in the dark ages, is supposed to be ideal for getting a baby into optimal birthing position.

Yet despite everything, Lilac is seemingly stuck in breech position. After worrying about pre-eclampsia, gestational diabetes, this and that, and getting through each month marking checks against each hurdle jumped, I find myself in the last 8 weeks of pregnancy facing the worst of all obstacles and my hopes and dreams of having a waterbirth are fading.

I even chose to attend a different hospital that is twice the distance from our house, and give up an obstetrician I really liked, all in the hope of having a waterbirth, so I'm filled with disappointment that this is happening.

All I want is the chance to feel a real contraction and NOT have a needle shoved in my spinal cord. Is that really too much to ask?

I'm clinging to the hope that, from what I've researched, 25% of babies are breech at 32 weeks and it drops to 4% at term, but Lilac hasn't changed position in weeks so my hope is slipping away.

Hilarious Jude

2011-04-07T15:47:00.000-07:00

My 2 1/2 year son is telling hilarious knock knock jokes over breakfast. He has come up with a sequence, a theme and even a call back to a previous joke. We're impressed with his style (although the substance may need tweaking, but he is only 2 and I've heard 5 year olds tell worse jokes).

Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy (baby sissy who?)
Baby sissy, Lilac.

Knock knock (who's there?)
Baby sissy Lilac (Baby sissy Lilac who?)
Baby sissy Lilac "ROOOAR". Baby sissy sees dinosaur.

Following this sequence, daddy took the knock knock reigns to teach Jude:

Knock knock (who's there?)
Cows (cows who?)
Cows don't who. Cows Moo. Owls whoooo!

Jude came back with:

Knock knock (who's there?)
Moo cow (moo cow who?)
Moo cow "ROOOAR". Moo cow sees dinosaur.

Well, we found it all very amusing!

The Great Pinking

2011-04-02T22:28:00.000-07:00

When we moved to QLD 5 or 6 years ago (I've lost count), we knew no one here and we certainly had no friends with children. Then we set forth and started multiplying and found ourselves surrounded by people with kids, but that didn't happen until after Jude was born.

Jude managed to escape wearing any hand-me-downs. What might seem like a small blessing for a child who only wore new clothes may not be what it seemed. Since announcing our girl bun in the oven, we have inherited bundles of pink from friends. I have now realised how great this is.

While Jude had entirely new clothes, they were all cheap and nothing special. After spending hundreds of dollars simply buying the basics for him, we had nothing left to splurge on anything fancy. Now we have an entire wardrobe of good-quality seconds, and I am free to start picking up special pieces as I go without worrying about blowing the budget.

This would, of course, rely on me ever having the time or inclination to go shopping. Chances are Lilac will wear only hand-me-downs because the reality is I never go shopping and I never get a chance to meander slowly through gorgeous kid's things, taking my time to ooh and aah at anything special.

But my parents are retiring soon so hopefully they'll visit more often and I'll have more time to potter around.

Going it alone

2011-03-27T17:25:00.000-07:00

Some days, like this one, I need someone to call on. Someone to take Jude away from me, if just for a few hours. Many people (increasingly fewer) have family close enough to be able to help out on those days when everything is too much. Our closest family live about 900km away. Not exactly close enough to come to the rescue.

I got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Between pregnancy symptoms and Jude's recent spate of very bad sleep patterns, I am really feeling the impact of sleep deprivation. So when I gave Jude a cup of milk and he knocked it over on to the floor, and then threw the 2nd cup of milk I gave him on the floor, I really couldn't stop myself from shouting at him and wishing he'd vanish and leave me the hell alone.

It's not a great feeling, as a mum, to wish your child was anywhere but home. I'm sure I'm not the first to feel this way and I won't be the last, but where is help when I need it?

Jude the changeling

2011-03-26T17:19:00.000-07:00

My mind is reeling. What has happened to my perfect son? In the last 3 days he has become unsettled, grumpy and mean. I have a great popup book about faeries that mentions something about changelings. Maybe I should look into that.

Actually as I sit here typing on my PC, I can hear Jude playing happily by himself in the next room and I am starting to think he is going through a fierce streak of independence. If I went in and tried to play with him, he'd run to the lounge and demand to watch TV and then break down in tears when I said "no". I'm sure that would happen, so I'm going to leave him playing happily with his felt rock band, singing a medley of songs that work to the tune of ABC and playing his piano (my old Casio keyboard from the early 1980s that still works perfectly).

When I don't give him what he wants he says "I don't like mummy." This is quite the dramatic change from 4 days ago when he was constantly saying "Jude is happy. Jude loves mummy." Hence my reeling mind. What happened to cause this dramatic overnight change?

Speaking of overnight... yesterday he refused to take a nap during the day. 4 days ago he was telling me he was tired and wanted to sleep around 12.30pm and would crash happily in bed. Now he keeps insisting on no sleep. So yesterday Jeremy took him out and they had a really fun, exciting day together. Breakfast down by the water, run around a book store, a swim in the pool... it should have wiped him out but then Jude refused to sleep at night as well.

I suspect he was overtired, but I don't know why he is refusing to sleep. A few days ago he told us when he was tired and crawled happily into bed and fell promptly asleep, all of a sudden that's all gone out the window.

I just hope this is a very temporary change. I think my best course of action right now is to give him his space if that's what he wants.

On a possibly related note, he has finally stopped waiting until bed time to poo in his nappy, but so far only 1 poo has made it in the potty. There have been several land squarely on the carpet. At least he's doing well-formed poos since we changed his milk to a new gluten and lactose free brand. Maybe it's all part of something. Who knows?

Accidents happen (bad ones)

2011-03-24T18:15:00.000-07:00

I just read this article in the Sydney Morning Herald about a toddler nearly drowning in a rip on a normal day at the beach with mum and dad.

About a month ago we went to the beach. Swimming between the flags as we always do, I waded thigh-deep into the water carrying Jude and steadied myself against an oncoming wave, turning Jude away to protect him with my body.

The wave hit with such brute force it sent a shock of pain through my aching pregnant hips and I had to struggle to stay standing. I immediately headed back to the beach, realising that I was powerless against the forces of nature that day. I could barely walk afterwards from the pain.

Had I been any deeper before the wave hit, I would have gone down dragging Jude with me, and I can see how easy it would be to get into trouble in a rip with your toddler. It just goes to show you can be careful, you can do everything "right", but you can not plan for all possible accidents.

Birth weight rubbish

2011-03-20T17:14:00.000-07:00

Why do we, upon having a baby, promptly declare to the world our baby's vital stats including birth weight? To any friends or family without children those numbers mean nothing, but what do they really mean?

I was just reading on a friends blog about how her son was born in the 90th percentile and how her midwife told her this was a good thing. Jude was born in the 3rd percentile and neither my obstetrician nor the paediatrician were concerned in any respect, and yet it seemed to send the stupid nurses into a state of anguish which ended with disastrous effect on my psyche, left me no time for sleep, gave me mastitis and destroyed Jude's chance at breastfeeding. If only I had the courage to listen to the actual doctors, the ones with the medical degrees and many many years of experience, but it's impossible to ignore the flurry of annoying bitches buzzing in your face when you're a new mum and you're horribly sleep deprived.

That said, my new obstetrician is concerned by Jude's seemingly small birth weight and wants to keep a careful eye on Lilac.

"Here is my son," I argue. "Look, he is perfect and is not so small now."

"Here is me and here is my husband," I protest. "We are small. I, and all my sisters, were only 2.8kgs at birth. We will not produce big children."

I would, quite honestly, be utterly aghast and horrified to give birth to a 90th percentile baby given the measurements of my family and our birth-size histories. If Lilac came out huge I would be terrified of infant diabetes or obesity. It would NOT be a good thing, no matter what any midwife tried to tell me.

I don't want to be concerned about birth size. I am expecting a small baby and I've tried to express this to my new doctor, but his concern is legitimate because I did have pre-eclampsia and that is a condition of the placenta breaking down early and failing to provide sustenance to the developing baby, so I understand he just wants to watch out for any signs of that reoccuring but I refuse, REFUSE, to buy into any of that birth weight crap ever again.

I will not have anyone make me feel bad about the size of my children. They are perfect and they will thrive and we will all be a lot better off without the interference of people who think every woman should give birth to a giant.

An important lesson that I forgot

2011-03-13T01:58:00.001-08:00

Another trip down memory lane to that foggy time when Jude was a newborn and I wasn't getting any sleep. This was during a time when Jude's day sleeps were 20 minute naps and, while he slept for a few hours at a stretch during the night, I was so stressed I couldn't sleep at all.

After several months wondering what I was doing wrong, the community nurse came around to see what was happening in the home. That particular day Jude decided to sleep for hours, but after he finally woke and fed the community nurse explained something that changed everything for me.

"Watch and listen carefully," she explained, "and learn the difference between crying because he needs you and crying because he is having trouble falling asleep." It hadn't occurred to me that he might be crying because he wanted to be asleep, I kept assuming he needed me to do something, and it was killing me that I couldn't figure out what that was.

As a long-term insomniac I know how frustrating it is to not be able to fall asleep. I often lie in bed groaning and bemoaning the fact that I seemed to be absent the day they taught everyone the trick of lying down, closing your eyes and falling asleep. It seems I never grew out of the problem that so many newborns face.

So I learned great patience with Jude and I paid close attention. I soon learned that there is a difference between crying and sleep anguish. I don't believe in controlled crying, so I would not abandon him during the trying time while sleep alluded him, but I realised that I shouldn't pick him and carry him around, either. I would sit by his side and pat him until he was calm and then, when his whimpers had turned to moans, I would leave him to find sleep on his own. It didn't take too long before he was sleeping well.

Recently, however, I realised how much time I was wasting during the day running up to Jude's room when he was supposed to be taking a nap. He would lie in bed and talk loudly to himself and his toys and then whimper and moan. I would run up and try to settle him. I'd try to coax him to sleep. I'd remind him he was tired and had asked to go to bed. I would inevitably end up frustrated and angry at him for refusing to sleep when he was clearly tired.

Then finally I remembered what I had learned when he was a newborn. He wasn't up there in bed crying or calling out for me, so I fought the urge to tend to him and left him to fall asleep on his own. Amazingly it took barely a few days for sleep to start coming easily and naturally to him. By allowing him to figure it out for himself, I hope I have prevented a lifetime of insomnia for him.

Friends who parent differently

2011-03-09T01:04:00.001-08:00

I have a friend who I met after having Jude. I really enjoyed her honesty and refreshing openness after our children were born and she didn't wear the pretense of most of the new mums who seemed to always put on airs.

Over time, however, we drifted apart, having simply not enough in common to build a strong friendship. One of the biggest issues for me has long been that I don't agree with some of the choices she has made raising her daughter.

From the earliest age she talked strongly about not "allowing" her daughter to wake up frequently through the night. Although she never quite said it, I had the feeling she imposed a strict regime of controlled crying without hesitation. Raising a child strictly is her nature.

My issues continued to grow when, at the age of 1, her daughter was frequently stuck in time out for basically being a normal child. While I reserve time out for those rare times when Jude is really beyond coping and needs the time out to calm down, she used time out as a way to train her daughter to learn new skills. For example, she was put in time out for not speaking.

She recently had a 2nd baby, a boy. Her husband, so chuffed that his sperm was able to produce a male of the species, seemed hell bent on getting him out playing sports right away. When he was just 2 weeks old he took him swimming in the surf. A 2 week old baby sleeps and wakes to eat before going back to sleep. They don't, with all their minimal layers of fat, go swimming in the surf.

So how do you stay friends with someone when their parenting choices so utterly conflict with your own? It's really not easy.

Musing about life

2011-02-26T19:37:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking about what it means to be a full-time mum. When I was little I thought my dad must be smarter than my mum because he was an important doctor and she was just mum. Years later I learned mum was quite the intellectual and dad just studied really hard.

Intelligence is something of a defining value in my life and I'm terrified of being undervalued by people who should know me. We moved to the gold coast about 5 years ago and I don't think most of my friends here have any idea that I have a brain, let alone anything to offer. I'm feeling a bit sad about it.

I made some bad choices in my life, but one of my biggest regrets has long been giving up environmental science which I started studying fresh out of high school. I panicked and thought I hadn't made the right choice and dropped science completely to study communications.

Following a short career in IT, I realised I didn't care for any of it. I do enjoy writing, but my single novel that I'm too otherwise-occupied to promote isn't getting me anywhere.

Now this many years later I still burn a candle in the dark recess of my mind for biology, the one subject I always excelled at without effort. Why I didn't stick with it will remain a mystery forever. Am I too old to go back?

Introducing...

2011-02-13T18:49:00.001-08:00

To me the sweetest sound right now is Jude saying his baby sister's name, Lilac.

Following Friday's scan, we have firm confirmation that our baby is a girl as we have always believed. This is beautiful news.

I'm thrilled that my little boy, Jude, will always be my one-and-only little boy, and that we have the opportunity to have a beautiful little girl in our lives as well. I cherish our good fortune with our children and take none of it for granted.

Ever since she was conceived, our little Lilac has given me strong indications of her existence. The day after I ovulated I developed a sharp metallic taste that couldn't be disguised or ignored. My first trimester was filled with morning sickness, I am constantly tired, I wake up at 4am for no reason and can't get back to sleep, I am constipated, hot, exhausted, breathless and thirsty at all times but all of it is because my little girl exists and I am thrilled.

Lilac, by the way, is my favourite colour and is also a flowering tree that lines the streets of Spokane Washington, the city where my husband is originally from in the USA. Ever since I first suggested the name, a mere week or so after Lilac was conceived, we have loved the name. But now that we have official confirmation of our baby's gender, it has all clicked into place and we feel strongly connected with our unborn baby girl.

Managing expectations: Boy or Girl?

2011-02-08T21:22:00.000-08:00

In only 2 days we will find out the gender of our baby (as long as the baby cooperates). Due to the timing of conception and the information that was conveyed to us during our 12-week scan, we have considered all along that this little bundle is a girl, and have given little thought to the idea of having a boy.

However, as the big day approaches it is starting to occur to me more and more that the result of our scan in 2 days may yield an unexpected result, and if I'm honest I just don't know how I'll react.

If we are, indeed, pregnant with a boy it will be a surprise and something of a shock. Certainly a shock I can get used to, but it will take some time because mentally and emotionally I am expecting a girl.

I would be perfectly happy with another little boy, just like my gorgeous and perfect Jude who I love more than life, but I will have to mourn the loss of the girl I am expecting if it comes to that, and I think it will be a bit difficult at first.

At least I am aware that there are 2 options and at this stage they are both likely, if not exactly equally. The other thing I can be safe in the knowledge of, is that I will love my child unconditionally no matter what.

What I look like these days

2011-02-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

I took this photo the other day, at 18 1/2 weeks pregnant:

I'm just wondering why I look 30 weeks pregnant and am already in so much discomfort. I am also wondering what this means I will look and feel like towards the end of my pregnancy.

It isn't filling me with the greatest amount of confidence.

However, I should note that despite my apparent size, I have gained just 1kg this pregnancy so far, and no I wasn't large to begin with.

Introduction to the summer sprinkler romp

2011-02-04T22:52:00.001-08:00

The first half of the year saw torrential rain that flooded most of qld. Gardens across the city remained saturated for weeks.

Then the rain stopped and there has barely been a drop of water fall since. Category 5 cyclone Yasi flattened northern qld in the last few days, but not even a hint of a breeze blew here.

I finally noticed the garden had gone rather limp, so I attached the sprinkler hose I bought months ago, waited for the afternoon shade to fill the garden, and then out we went.

Jude has now experienced his first summer sprinkler romp, and he loved it. I have to admit, even at the ripe old age of 34, I got a giggle out of it, too.

Pregnancy Pains (again)

2011-02-01T18:03:00.000-08:00

Pelvic dysplasia, or pelvic joint pain, is a little-known, but extremely painful, side effect of pregnancy. I guess not every woman suffers from it, but I do.

During pregnancy, we produce the hormone Relaxin whose purpose is to relax the pelvic bones ready to deliver a baby. In some cases, the pelvis relaxes too much and too early, resulting in agonising pain in the hips and pelvis caused by the pelvic joint grinding together. The surrounding muscles becomes inflamed and, to add insult to injury, the surrounding nerves are irritated resulting in mild to severe sciatica.

So if you can imagine having aching hips, burning pelvic joints and shooting pains in your buttocks and down the backs of your thighs, then you might be able to imagine something of what I'm going through.

The pain is worst at night when I try to sleep on my side, which pushes my hips in awkward directions. I end up sleeping in a twist on my back, which means I wake up every morning with crippling back pain and hips that have frozen into a painful, stiff board preventing me from moving.

It happened when I was pregnant with Jude, and I'd never heard of pelvic dysplasia so I had no idea why I was in pain, then my doctor referred me to a physiotherapist and it all became clear. Now it has struck me quite early in this pregnancy (17 weeks), so I headed straight to the nearest physiotherapist without passing Go, and I've ordered a pelvic brace to wear during the day to try and hold my hips in place. I really hope it helps, because I can't stand another 22 weeks of this!

The only good news is, it goes away the very second the baby is born so at least it is not permanent, although I think after Jude I was always a little bit uneven in the hips so I'll make sure I get postnatal physiotherapy this time.

My birthday this year

2011-01-31T01:45:00.001-08:00

Today was my 34th birthday, but more importantly 1 year since Jude suffered terrible burns from a simple cup of hot tea.

We decided to make January 31st International Hot-Drink-Free day, and drank iced tea and other cold drinks, enjoying a very hot day at a tea tree lake in lennox head with a lovely picnic lunch.

It was such a perfect day. I don't remember the last time I enjoyed my birthday so much, and it was really the first birthday I've shared happily with Jude.

Jude actually thought it was a giggle to learn that mummy has a birthday, too. He then joined in and sung "happy birthday to mummy", and was particularly excited to share my chocolate cake.

What a wonderful memory on top of another, deeply embedded, memory of a much darker day in my birthday history.

Days Like This

2011-01-21T19:46:00.000-08:00

You would not believe the day I am having... Unless you have a child, in which case you might.

Despite having done several small wees on the potty just before lunch, Jude decided in the middle of eating his toasted sandwich to release a great waterfall of fluid from his bladder. Thankfully I had just moved him from the padded booster seat back to his plastic highchair so he could see better, and the urine all landed on his plastic splash mat. After lunch, I stealthily moved all offending articles (including Jude) to the laundry and cleaned them down one by one.

Now, lately Jude has been pooing about 10 minutes into his midday nap. It interrupts his sleep and makes our afternoon somewhat hellish, so I am desperately trying to coax him with bribery to poo on the potty before he goes to sleep. Today I tried extra hard, reading him a story and entertaining him for quite some time while he sat on his potty before bed. He did not poo. Eventually I put him in bed, taking advantage of the narrow window of peace while my neighbour was eating lunch, and therefore not banging loudly outside Jude's window while he attempts to renovate his garage.

20 minutes later I heard a squawk from Jude's room and went to investigate. There was Jude, half naked. Poo-filled nappy dumped unceremoniously on his bed. Brown streaks across his room. Argh!

I ran a bath and dumped Jude in it while I hastily set to cleaning up his room, but I knew it was getting rather hopeless. It wouldn't be long before the neighbour finished lunch. My window was closing. So after his bath, I took Jude to our bed and tried to settle him.

I think it probably took me an hour. I was, meantime, building some Ikea furniture on the floor of our bedroom and firmly encouraging Jude to sleep, but he has never been good at sleeping anywhere but his bed. The fact that it took me only an hour shows just how tired he was.

I haven't finished cleaning up the poo yet, but I needed a break. The neighbour is back to banging and crashing, which isn't great for the violent pregnancy headache I've been sporting since last night. Also, Jude in my bed means I can't have the lie down I so desperately need.

Oh well, who has time for a lie down? There's poo to clean.

The best advice about feeding

2011-01-20T01:08:00.001-08:00

Long long ago, in a galaxy far away (or so it seems) I was witness to a piece of advice from a child nutritionist who spoke at one of the meetings held at the community health centre when Jude was 3 months old. At the time the advice was premature as Jude was not eating solids at that stage, but I stored the information away and I have always adhered to it since food was introduced.

Very young children have very little control over anything in their lives, and so from an early age they will cling to any tiny thing they can control. Eating being the simplest and first thing they learn they have a say in.

Many many parents struggle with feeding their babies and toddlers. The struggle to feed them can go on for years with children refusing to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner. A woman I know still feeds her 2 year old predominantly formula in a bottle because that's the only thing of any nutritional value he will eat... at home. Apparently he eats voraciously at child care.

The advice given by the nutritionist was to remain in charge of what you offer your child and when, but let them choose how much they eat of what you offer. Don't make it a struggle and don't offer them something else. If they choose not to eat a meal, offer them a healthy snack a couple of hours later and proceed with the day's meal plan.

The only way this works, of course, is if you begin the adventure of food with these "rules" in place from the start. I'm very glad I heard this advice when Jude was 3 months old, I was able to work it into our daily lives and while Jude has often eaten very little of what I've served him, I certainly don't struggle all day fighting over food and trying to get him to eat anything I offer. Tonight, for example, he had 3 bites of dinner and is now practicing swimming in the bath with his daddy. He will go to bed, sleep happily, and wake up in the morning ready for breakfast.

Jude sprouts wings.

2011-01-17T20:58:00.001-08:00

Now that all my photos reside on my phone, I figure it's time to start blogging from my phone. This means my posts should be full of sometimes entertaining, usually confusing, auto-completions. And here we go:

While we wait for the countdown to our 19 week scan, the one where we learn the gender of the bun in the oven, Jude is currently going through an amazing learning spurt that I find so exciting to witness.

The other day he made, unmade and remade dinosaur figures out of megablocks. The exact same figures each time. At an age where he can draw blobs and paint stripes, suddenly creating 4-legged dinosaurs out of blocks has really surprised me.

He has stated using the toilet and potty with little trouble, his speech is developing in leaps and bounds, and he had suddenly become very social when he was such a shy little boy before Christmas.

On the slightly negative side, in the last 2 weeks he suddenly became afraid of the dark and needs a lamp in his room, a night-light isn't enough. He also insisted we took the posters off his walls because he was scared of them. At night he points out the window and says it's too dark. Clearly his imagination has run wild.

Whatever is happening, I'd love to be able to see the synapses forming in his beautiful, fascinating brain.

Toilet Time

2011-01-02T01:56:00.000-08:00

It's so hard to find a moment to sit at my PC and write something down. I'll steal this moment or 2 just to document Jude's latest development (not forgetting I have a beautiful 2 year old as well as being pregnant).

Having worn cloth nappies his entire life, Jude became aware of his bowel movements at a young age. He was telling us "wee wee poo" from about the age of 18-months. However, at that time we lived in a rented apartment and it was winter. The prospect of attempting to potty train just seemed impossible. We would never be able to explain why the rented carpet smelled of pee and was covered in yellow stains.

When we finally bought a place and moved in, we waited a while to make sure Jude was settled. But we bought a potty and introduced him to the concept of sitting on it. The result was that Jude would tell us "wee wee poo" and then sit quite happily on the potty for a good hour without actually doing anything.

The challenge was for him to learn how to release and let go, and I had no idea how to teach him that skill. Running water didn't seem to make any difference, so we just continued allowing him to sit there doing nothing without any pressure to perform.

Then one morning a few weeks back we heard a noise and recognised the tell-tale sound of the toilet seat being raised and dropped. When we went to investigate we found Jude sans nappy, wee-filled potty in his hands, trying to empty the contents in the toilet as he had seen on a video once.

This was a bit mind-boggling that he would suddenly decide to start using his potty, but also completely like Jude who has a strong independent streak.

We haven't really potty-trained him, as such. We merely introduced him to the idea and gave him the facts. It was entirely up to him to decide to actually go ahead and start using the potty. Now we can sit him on a toilet and he'll go. He happily wears underpants around the house and every couple of hours I sit him on the potty and he empties his bladder. I do that just to make sure he doesn't get distracted and forget. It's been very easy and we've had no accidents ever since he decided it was time.

I haven't been brave enough to take him out in public in his undies, because I'm not 100% convinced he'd tell me he needed to pee. My biggest concern is that he would wet his car seat and that's something I don't fancy attempting to clean, and nor do I want to drive around in a car that smells like pee.

Eventually, though, I guess I will have to take the chance because he can't wear nappies out in public forever.

Our Babysitter

2010-12-15T17:33:00.000-08:00

After a seriously bad case of "morning" sickness yesterday, I did my best to suck it up and we went out to see the massive tourist bonanza, the Outback Spectacular.

This, of course, required us to organise a babysitter, always a fun challenge. We only know one person we trust; the 18 year old ex-neighbour who used to babysit for us before we moved. Thankfully during the time we've known her she has learned to drive and was happy to take the journey to babysit Jude.

It's interesting how both Jude and the babysitter keep getting older, so we trust her more and have less worries about him. Even knowing he probably wouldn't go to sleep easily wasn't too much of a concern because he often stays awake until 9.30pm just because he's stubborn.

When she babysat Jude when he was a baby, her mum was always downstairs and we knew she would get some help if she needed it, so that wasn't a problem either.

It's very nice how it's all worked out. It is very underrated to have a good babysitter.

10 Weeks Today

2010-12-05T16:26:00.001-08:00

Today hits the 10-week mark along this pregnancy journey. I'm very pleased to reach double digits. I'm just hoping the ill-effects start to abate soon.

Last night I had my first fretful pregnancy dream. In this dream, every pregnant woman I know all suddenly miscarried and they were all hateful and angry at me for still being pregnant. I was filled with deep sadness for my friends and was sobbing, trying to console them, but they were pushing me away. I woke up when I let out an audible whimper in my sleep. It was a very strong dream. Very disturbing.

Christmas is rapidly approaching and I've been really too ill to put up any decorations or buy any gifts. We've been watching Christmas movies with Jude to try and help him understand what it's all about (apparently christmas will be cancelled every year because Santa can't deliver the presents, and he needs a lot of help from strangers to keep christmas afloat).

We did visit santa for a photo and have a ride on the choo choo train. Jude enjoyed the train. He could care less about santa.

Morning Sickness

2010-11-19T01:05:00.000-08:00

My first trimester with Jude was amazing. I remember feeling wonderful, healthy, glowing. I couldn't believe how perfect my pregnancy was and I gloated in my good fortune.

This week marked the 7th week of this pregnancy, and the onset of morning sickness. Mostly I have just been feeling off all day, that same feeling you get when you eat one more piece of pizza than you should have.

Yesterday, however, was a different story. I woke up feeling terrible and couldn't roll out of bed until 11am. I did get up to vomit, but crawled straight back to bed again. Thankfully I felt better in the afternoon.

Last night I took some muesli bars to bed with me and munched them through the night, so I was feeling ok this morning but then we went on a longish drive and being cooped up in the car made me feel quite bad again. So I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling off.

The other thing about this pregnancy that was absent in my first trimester with Jude is constant fatigue. I don't have the luxury of being able to rest when I want to now I have a 2 year old to chase around, so I wonder if that is the difference.

Exposure to Illness

2010-11-06T02:33:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, a friend called me in distress. During the night she had passed out on the toilet and she was feeling weak and sick. Her husband is overseas and she couldn't function. The worst part for her was that she was rendered incapable of taking care of her son, who is the same age as Jude.

I raced over to her house and brought her and her son back to our place. I then let her sleep and I took the kids out for a few hours. When I got back I made her lunch, the first food she'd been able to keep down for 24 hours.

She wanted to spend the night in her own bed, so I took her home and the next day I called her in the morning. She said she was waiting for her parents to come, but they would be a few hours. I insisted on waiting with her, so I took myself off to her place to watch her son while she slept.

She was so incredibly sick. I ended up taking her to the doctor while we waited for her parents. She was vomiting constantly, and due to low blood pressure she could barely stand up.

I was very happy to help my friend in need. It was an honour to be called on for help during a time of great personal need. However, that afternoon I started to feel sick and then panic set in. What had I done? Had I exposed myself to a really awful illness that was causing complete havoc on a perfectly healthy woman? How would it effect me and my baby?

Thankfully my sickness has proven to be a bad sore throat, headache and general malaise. Certainly not fainting and non-stop vomiting. All the same, it made me realise that a pregnant woman has a lot to consider in such situations, and I'm not sure I did the right thing taking care of my sick friend, although I can't see how I could have done anything differently when she needed me so much.

When do I tell people I'm pregnant?

2010-10-27T19:35:00.000-07:00

I was sitting around sipping coffee, eating cakes and chatting with the ladies at mums group today, when I had an overwhelming urge to blurt out my news, but I controlled myself thinking "I should wait".

But I don't know how long to wait. I think I will probably tell them next week, as long as I've told our families first, then I am happy for my friends, other mums, to know.

The thing is, people often wait 13 weeks to get past the risky period, but why wait? You might not want to tell your boss or people you don't really like, but sharing the news with friends is a good idea. If something bad were to happen, they would be there to give you support. Why go around keeping all your experiences to yourself when you could share them with dear friends?

We waited with Jude because that's just what people seem to do, but I'm fairly sure we won't wait this time. I've decided to see a GP and have the pregnancy medically confirmed, and then I think I'll tell whoever I want.

Confirmed Pregnant

2010-10-24T20:43:00.000-07:00

My intuition was spot on.

Pregnancy forums use the initials BFP (Big Fat Positive) to describe a positive result from a pregnancy test, but in my case it was more of a Little Faint Positive. All the same, there was an undeniable double blue line on the white stick when I took the test this morning.

We are a bit surprised how excited we are. We thought we'd be a bit more subdued about having a 2nd child, but I was so excited yesterday and when I woke up this morning, knowing I would take the test as soon as I got out of bed, I didn't want to rush it. I certainly didn't want to see a negative result and as long as I was in bed I didn't have to face it, but then Jeremy woke me up and told me he was waiting for me to take the test, so in the end I had to do it.

And I'm very glad I did.

As soon as we told Jude he said "Yay. Wow. Baby sissy." It's so fantastic knowing Jude will be a part of the experience this time. I think that's what makes this pregnancy so exciting and fun. How wonderful.

Egg Implantation

2010-10-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

Just a quick note:

I felt sharp cramps last night and today had a couple of light spots that indicates to me the little egg has implanted itself. I had the exact same experience when I fell pregnant with Jude.

After all this, if I end up not pregnant I'll be pretty amazed. Probably very disappointed.

Baby Take 2

2010-10-15T17:21:00.000-07:00

When I started this blog I was quite heavily pregnant, so the journey from the start with Jude was largely undocumented. I've decided, therefore, to start round 2 from the beginning.

Jeremy and I have decided to stop postponing our plans to extend our perfect 3-person family and make room for 1 more. We had so many reasons to keep delaying a second child until we realised we could wait forever. There being no time like the present, we set forth to procreate.

When we conceived Jude, I just knew. We took a pregnancy test 3 days early, on my birthday just for fun, and when the negative result came back I wasn't worried at all. I knew in 3 more days we'd have a positive, and sure enough that's how it happened. I have always been in tune with my body so it came as no surprise.

Last month I was sure I was pregnant. This time it wasn't just a hunch. My breasts ached and tingled constantly. However, I came down with a very bad cold that had me in bed for almost 5 days. I was so sick we had to send Jude out into the world to find his own amusement (with a lovely friend who was able to look after him all day while Jeremy worked). My body became a rancid cesspool of disease and I felt that my interior was a hostile environment for a zygote to struggle for survival.

Then my periods came a full week early - an unprecedented occurrence. I feel certain that we had conceived but that pregnancy didn't take form. I had no regrets because I knew my sick body was no place for a baby and I needed to recover.

And recover I did. This month we tried again. We are trying for a girl this time so we ceased sex a couple of days prior to my most-likely date of ovulation (far from an exact science, especially given how short my cycle was the month before).

The day after I am certain I was ovulating, I suddenly developed a strong metallic taste in my mouth when eating, particularly dairy. The disgusting taste is undeniably present. I did some research and discovered it is a not-uncommon very early sign of pregnancy. Coupled with the fact that I am peeing more than usual and I'm incredibly sleepy, I am feeling very confident we are pregnant.

Hopefully I will come back in a couple of weeks with a more solid affirmation of my strong suspicions, but either way it's an interesting process to document.

Jude still has a dummy

2010-05-21T04:38:00.000-07:00

I wonder, in a purely informative way, how many other children Jude's age (19 1/2 months) still use a dummy?

I'm not concerned about it. He uses his dummy when he's falling asleep. Ever since he was a little tiny baby he has spat the dummy out while falling asleep. He never wakes up crying for his dummy and he doesn't even look for one during the day, so it's never been a problem.

When he had the accident and suffered painful burns it was a wonderful, soothing comfort for him, and this week he's been sick with a terrible virus and again his dummy proved very comforting for him.

However, recently I went to the supermarket with him and he had his dummy. He was going through a particularly rough teething patch and kept jamming his hand in his mouth to the point where he was constantly triggering his gag reflex, so I gave him the dummy to stop the gagging. I met a woman I knew and she commented on the dummy, saying he doesn't need one now. I shrugged it off, but I am fully aware that there are strong sentiments against the use of dummies, which is why I am merely wondering how many other children Jude's age have dummies.

Again, I stress I really don't care and I know it's not a problem. How many adults or even school children have I ever known who use a dummy? 0! I chose not to worry about things I know aren't problems (like worrying about tummy time and flat heads - show me 1 single adult who has a problem because they didn't do tummy time as a newborn) Mostly, these things are total nonsense, invented just to add 1 more thing for new mothers to panic about.

I digress. It was all just mental meanderings, anyway.

The joy of the single child

2010-05-05T03:45:00.000-07:00

Hand-in-hand I walked with my son along the beach. It was a hot, breezeless afternoon. A clear blue sky. Not at all typical for late Autumn, more like late Spring. The sea was relatively calm. Small rolling waves lapped the shore, washing up the incline of the beach. The sand was firm following yesterday's heavy rain. We took small steps and stayed within the ebb and flow of the incoming tide.

It was one of the most peaceful, enjoyable and fulfilling walks I've ever taken. Jude never once tried to pull his hand from mine. He stayed by my side never attempting to go off on his own, simply content to be with his mummy. At one point he bent down to pick up a small shell that he carried for the next 10 minutes before placing it quietly back on the sand.

I've been enjoying his company so much lately. He sits with me, snuggles in close and rests his head in the nook of my armpit while I read him stories. One after the other he hands me books to read. On a cooler day we snuggled under a blanket and Jude pulled it up to his neck, reaching a little hand out to turn each page before disappearing into the warm folds of the blanket again.

His language skills are still very limited, but we manage to communicate. We have a secret language we share, which means nothing but it always makes Jude laugh so it's like a private joke. Daddy knows the secret too, of course.

I am so excited about him learning to speak so we can start to converse with each other, but I know it's going to take some time. First single words, then two words at a time. Some time later he'll be able to construct questions and convey his ideas. I am looking forward to it, but I can wait because I don't want him to grow up too fast.

I realised today while we were walking that I'm very glad I don't have another child, or one on the way. There's no one to tear my attention away and so I can watch, I can observe and I can experience Jude's growth. I am focused on him and I see him learning every day, and he is interesting and wonderful. I'll still be focussing on him when he does learn to talk and he'll have my attention when he starts to ask questions.

I can see why people might chose to only have one child and I think it's a valid decision, however we are planning on having another child in the future. By the time another person is added to our family, Jude will be able to understand and he'll be fully involved in the new baby's life.

My anally retentive son

2010-04-24T17:30:00.000-07:00

I can't help but be a little concerned about Jude's behaviour of late. For a while now he's become quite the little helper putting his toys and books away (but usually getting them back out straight away).

More recently he's started organising. I watch him playing with his toys and grouping them in various ways. Sometimes he puts all the vehicles together, sometimes he loads all the human characters into the back of a truck, sometimes he puts his soft toys in one pile and his plastic toys in another pile.

Another thing he does is "return" objects to their "correct" location, and I do need the inverted commas. Sometimes I decide to move items around the house and when Jude discovers them in their new location he moves them back to their old home, like the cushion I took from the living room and put on our bed that found its way back to the living room, or the umbrella I took from the hat stand and put in my handbag that was later found back at the hat stand.

He is often more interested in stacking his stackable crayons than drawing with them and wants to line up his non-stackable crayons neatly side-by-side.

There's a small voice in the back of my mind that keeps wondering if this is slightly Autistic behaviour, but Jude is so affectionate and engaged in everything that I have to shake such thoughts from my mind.

I just found this on Wikipedia that is quite interesting:

In the psychology of Freud, the anal stage is said to follow the oral stage of infant/early-childhood development. This is a time when an infant's attention moves from oral stimulation to anal stimulation (usually the bowels but occasionally the bladder), usually synchronous with learning to control their excretory functions, a time of toilet training. Freud theorized that children who experience conflicts during this period of time may develop "anal" personality traits, namely those associated with a child's efforts at excretory control: orderliness, stubbornness, a compulsion for control, as well as a generalized interest in collecting, possessing, and retaining objects.

Freud has been largely (wholly?) debunked by the psycho-analytical community, but Jude did suffer recently with his burns so I have to wonder if this behaviour is in some way related to his desire to control his world.

Is his behaviour completely normal or should I be concerned?

My perfect child

2010-02-26T20:25:00.000-08:00

People talk about Jude's peaceful and relaxed personality like he's a miracle of nature. Unlike pretty much every other child his age he has never once pushed, poked, hit or bit any other child. He never misbehaves or throws temper tantrums. He doesn't grab other childrens' toys and he's always happy to share. He's quite simply a perfect angel.

While it's true that Jude is a wonderful little person with kindness and beauty to match the greatest saint to ever walk the Earth, there's also some good parenting technique thrown into the mix and I'd just like a little credit where credit is due for helping to raise my little prince charming.

A little aside: Many years ago, long before Jude was even a twinkle in my eye, a friend came over to my house with his wife and toddler. Their little boy grabbed a golf ball and started smacking it into my coffee table. Neither parent reacted so I stood up, picked up their son and moved him away from the coffee table. I took the golf ball out of his hand and gave him something less damaging to play with. I didn't say a word or raise my voice to their son, I simply moved and distracted him.

However, my actions mortally offended my friend and particularly his wife who thought my response to their son's destroying my furniture was completely insulting, so they stormed out and I lost a friend.

My point? Yesterday I remembered that event and I realised my response to such a situation hasn't changed over time or by having my own child. When Jude is doing something we don't like, we never yell at him or give him timeout (at this age), but simply give him something else to do. In this way we've never once drawn attention to his bad behaviour. We always shower him with praise and kisses when he does something good. He's so used to being praised that when he does something he is proud of he gives himself a little clap.

The bad behaviour doesn't exist because we don't let it be an issue. Jude doesn't even know when he's done something we don't like, in fact he's forgotten all about it 5 seconds later.

So yes my son is perfect, but Jeremy and I, as his parents, have played a role in that and I'm sick of people thinking we're just lucky to have a good child, we're damn good parents!

Jude in Hospital

2010-02-05T16:24:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, January 31st we were winding down the afternoon after lunch on my 33rd birthday. My sister, Josie, who had arrived earlier that morning and had just met Jude for the first time, made us all some tea. She sat a cup of freshly brewed boiling tea on a table in the living room and in the blink of an eye Jude ran across the room and grabbed the cup, spilling scorching water down his chin, neck, torso and right arm.

He cried, but didn't scream. He's never been one to complain loudly. Even as a newborn his cries were barely more than squeaks. As I reached down to pick him up, I didn't realise the extent of his injury until I lifted his t-shirt and saw his fragile skin dripping off his little body. I freaked out and we decided to rush him to hospital. In retrospect we should have called an ambulance, but we thought it would be quicker to drive.

We arrived at Robina hospital at about 5.30pm on Sunday night and the available staff didn't seem to know anything. You'd think burn treatment would be covered in Medicine 101, but these people were hopeless. They doped him up on painkillers and pretty much left us sitting around waiting for answers.

After several hours of them trying to contact a burns specialist, they finally learned he was supposed to be under cool running water, so we held him under a tap for about 15 minutes. Jeremy and I were completely soaked and it was freezing in the hospital, I was also in shock and hadn't eaten anything since lunch. It was now about 9pm.

The burns specialist had them put silver dressings on his burns, but I could see they weren't done particularly well. They really didn't know what they were doing.

Eventually we were told we had to head to the Royal Children's Hospital in Brisbane, which is apparently the only burns unit in all QLD, NT, Northern NSW and the Pacific Rim. There was no private hospital option. The only good news being that the RCH is a world leader in Burns treatment.

Jude and I went by ambulance and arrived around midnight in Brisbane. Jeremy drove up via home to pick up a few things. The emergency staff there were wonderful. They were the first people to realise I was in shock (almost 7 hours after the accident occurred), so they got me a blanket (I was freezing) and some sugary cordial. Jude was ok on painkillers. He was incredibly tired, but had only slept about an hour in the ambulance since his sleep before lunch. No one had eaten.

They kept telling us they would redo his dressings, which I was happy about because I knew they weren't done well. Around 2.30am we were taken up to the burns unit, but we learned his dressings weren't going to be replaced. Now we found ourselves in a pickle. Jeremy and I didn't have any beds to sleep on. We also had very minimal personal items with us. We were so exhausted and I couldn't cope.

They wheeled in a recliner and I went to hunt down a bed in the parent's room. No one could tell us anything. No one at RCH had even seen Jude's burns, other than some photos that Robina sent.

After night #1 of no sleep, I got up before everyone and returned to Jude's side. We then proceeded to wait out a day of nothing happening. The staff at RCH decided they wanted to leave the dressings on as long as possible, because they're supposed to be left on at least 3 days before changing. There were little tubes placed around them to add water, because they treat burns by keeping the wounds wet, but the little tubes were falling out and by now there was only 1 left, so I was a bit concerned and really wanted the dressings changed. I think I just wanted something to happen.

Then a bunch of therapists started coming round to talk to me. It started to become apparent that the process of changing the dressings was going to be quite traumatic for Jude and me. There was a psychologist, an occupational therapist, a physiotherapist and even a music therapist (whose job was to distract Jude with melodic songs).

They patched up his falling-apart dressings and put new water tubes in on Monday, but we basically sat around all day really doing nothing. Jude was doped up and slept all day.

During this time we were in a room with 5 other children. One of the little boys, named Tyson, was about 10 months old. He had been in a very serious accident and both his legs had been amputated. It was very overwhelming and humbling to constantly be in his presence. The poor little boy didn't have his parents with him, apparently they came by every few days. I don't know what the story is, but people travel a long way to go to RCH and they probably had other children, so I guess if Tyson had been there a long time then they simply couldn't be there all the time.

It was quite heart breaking, but Tyson did have a lot of people looking after him. The poor little boy, he was happy and gurgly most of the time but he didn't like it when they came in the give him a sponge bath or change his dressings. I can't imagine what life will be like for him. It made me very aware that Jude will recover.

There was also a little boy, Ty, who had kidney failure and was in and out of RCH travelling down from Cairns with his mum. She was a such a strong lady and really helped me, offering me support and sharing her crosswords and sudokos so I had something to do. I know she was struggling, though, because I overheard her talking to a psychologist. She was having trouble explaining to Ty what was happening to him and why he needed yet another operation. He didn't want to hear it. It was hard for him. He was only 4 and a half years old.

There were so many people, real humans in these really overwhelming situations and there was so much strength and love. Mums and Dads staying by their children's sides, no one getting any sleep. Everybody simply falling apart but holding it together for their children. It was really fundamentally human. I started to feel bad that we would be able to go home after Jude's dressings were changed, only 2 sleepless nights in hospital for me. It was almost like I cheated.

I cried a lot, just tired and overwhelmed and hating seeing Jude in pain. He would wake up when the pain killers started to wear off and cry, and while he slept he whimpered constantly. He's also become very clingy and wants to be in my arms constantly and he isn't very fond of other people. For the first night and day, he refused to sleep in the hospital cot and would only sleep in our arms.

On Tuesday he finally had his dressings changed. It was pretty yucky but I'm a doctor's daughter so I think I've grown up with yucky stuff and can handle it pretty well. Jude was on strong pain killers but he didn't enjoy it. The music therapy was really helpful. Afterwards we had to stay in the hospital until the drugs wore off. When he was coming down he got quite cranky, and he's been a bit strange hitting his toys from time to time, I think he's just frustrated. He's covered in bandages and I can only imagine how annoying they are.

By Thursday he was in pretty good spirits. He is playing with his musical instruments and walking around. He's incredibly sooky and slingy when other people are around and the poor little thing is wiped out. The healing process is incredibly exhausting for him.

He really is just tired all the time and wants to sleep constantly, so we won't be going anywhere or even leaving the house for a while. The heat outside distresses him and makes him uncomfortable. I'm really not too sure how long it will be. No one's been able to give me any indication how long it will take for him to heal. I have to go back to RCH every 3 days to change his dressings. I don't know how many weeks I will be making that trek.

We went back yesterday and it was an all day ordeal. My dad was visiting and drove us to Brisbane, but in the future I'm really stuck. My husband needs the car for work and I don't have any transport. The hospital thinks it's perfectly acceptable that we should have to catch public transport. That's 5 hours of bus and train travel each day (there and back). Plus another 2 hours or so in hospital. How they think that's a reasonable expectation for a little 16-month old to go without sleep and to subject his overwhelmed mum to such an ordeal is completely beyond me. I'm feeling pretty angry because they won't recommend me for non-urgent ambulance transport because they think there's a public transport option. It's not an option, and I'm going to have to pull out all stops and call some serious favours of friends (favours I don't feel reasonable asking for) to make it work.

This is the worst experience ever. A few things I've learned that I'd like to share (but I hope you never need to use):

No matter how natural it is for you to always keep your child out of danger, other people may not have developed those same motherly instincts, so always be vigilant when other people are around. Watch out for hot liquids, especially tea or coffee and pots of boiling water on the stove.

If something happens, call an ambulance because they will take you to the right place and you won't end up in some po-dunk hospital for hours and hours with staff who can't do anything.

Put a list on your fridge today of things you would need for an overnight stay in hospital including clothes, shampoo, soap, lip balm, any medications you take and where they can be found in case someone else picks them up for you. You might end up 2 hours from home with nothing, not even your wallet and your Medicare card. It's not a fun situation to be in.

Include food on your list. They feed children but not parents in children's hospitals, and you can barely leave your child's side to pee let alone go for a long walk to the nearest food outlet, so it's very difficult to get something to eat. Try to take biscuits and things to keep you alive (but you'll find yourself with no appetite anyway).

Children with burns, broken limbs, or that need an IV drip need clothes that are easy to get on an off. Make sure you have some button-up shirts. T-shirts are useless to try pull over an upset child's head or fit over heavily bandaged arms.

Take care and give your children a big big hug.

Jude's Weird Walking Story

2010-01-12T23:38:00.000-08:00

4 weeks ago, on the 16th of December, Jude took his first tentative steps without holding on.

Today he actually started walking.

What could I possibly mean by that? Well I don't really know myself, except for an entire month Jude has been walking but not very willingly. He would walk if stood in position and prompted, but he preferred to crawl to actually get from A to B. Today he decided walking was not so bad and started strolling casually around like an old pro. He still waves his hands out in front like he's trying to conjure a rabbit from a hat, but he can use his hands to carry things like his hat, sunscreen and sandals in the hot and humid middle of the day when he suddenly decided he wanted to go out.

He also showed us that he understands "take this to daddy" when I handed him a small starfish toy and he proudly walked off to locate daddy and hand his booty over. Daddy returned the gesture "take this to mummy" with another randomly chosen object and Jude brought it proudly to me.

Why did he take 4 weeks to actually walk? I've never heard of this before. Sure I've heard of plenty of children waiting until 15 months to start walking, but this bizarre month-long refusal to walk when he knew how has me baffled. He's clearly of royal lineage and wants to be carried on his silver chariot as long as he can get away with it.

Time for Me

2009-12-09T17:26:00.000-08:00

For the true first time since Jude was born I really wish I had some time for myself. Of course there were a lot of times back at the beginning when I wished I could take a nap and all kinds of things, but that was time "to" myself that I wanted, now I need time "for" myself.

I have tried several times to do some yoga first thing in the morning, but Jude is awake and he wants to crawl all over me. It's impossible to stand in mountain pose and focus your breathing with a child thinking it's hilarious to stick his head through your knees. By the time Jude takes his morning nap my belly is bloated with breakfast and my attention is elsewhere.

I've also been trying to sort out my values in life, but Jude's day sleeps have, for the large part, been sketchy and he demands a lot of my focus. I can't ever sit down for a decent length of time and unwind or turn my attention inward to work on bettering myself and getting the most out of life.

It may seem self-centred but the activities I want to engage in are to improve myself so I can provide the necessary energy needed to run a family.

Even now Jude is headbutting me and trying to turn my computer off. He doesn't have a concept of independent play, not when mummy is so fun to torment. After all, I have big eyes that need constant poking and ears that are just begging to be pulled.

And I'm not even going to mention the non-me stuff like mopping my bathroom floor, or cleaning and vacuuming my bedroom. I honestly couldn't say when they were last done since all my time goes into maintaining the main living areas which are freshly trashed over and over every day.

Live to your Values

2009-12-03T23:52:00.001-08:00

I have some fairly strong ideas of how I want to raise Jude. For example, I want to stay home with him until he's ready for preschool. I don't believe that childcare is necessary for a child's social development. I also don't believe that children need to be enrolled in swim school from the age of 6 months, and I don't believe infants need to be bombarded with daily activities like Jimbaroo.

I have nothing against those things. I have worked in child care and I was an AUSTSwim certified swimming instructor. I have also taught very young Japanese children English using music and dance, so I appreciate all those activities for what they are ... I just know from first hand experience that people don't need to pay money for things that can be taught at home. So I am teaching Jude to swim, I am exposing Jude to music and dance, and I am taking care of his social development by being a fully attentive stay-at-home mum and through regular mum's group (often twice a week).

My stance is firm and I know what I know, but that said I still challenge myself every single day when I am confronted with other mothers who have every day of the week booked with activities for their babies and who fork out money on every class and toy available.

I constantly need to refer back to my values and check in with myself to make sure I'm following my own path and ignoring what everyone else does, but it's difficult because I'm not deaf or blind so it's always around me, everywhere I look.

Especially these days when probably 2/3 of women hurry back to, at least, part time work and have their babies in childcare from a young age. When they start talking about Christmas pageants and all the amazing things their children are accomplishing I can't help second guessing myself, even though I know from first-hand experience that some children are naturally adapted for childcare but many children would much rather be home with mum.

I've started waffling because I am in the middle of cooking dinner, so my attention is on the beeping microwave rather than what I'm writing, but I think I made a point somewhere in there.

When things fall apart

2009-11-05T14:38:00.000-08:00

The banks and politicians are all patting themselves on the back and claiming the Australian economy is improving. Meanwhile, my husband's company fell over and laid off 260 people, including him. So for the past couple of months we've had no income.

I have been trying to keep my head above the water by reminding myself of the things we do have, like each other and our beautiful Jude, but facing eviction and having nowhere to go and no family close by to catch us when we fall, we have both been sinking deeply into despair.

After I rang Centrelink recently to report our new projected annual "income", I put us offically on the poverty line. A few days later I received a health concession card for low income. It was horrifying to realise we were poor. We'd already been feeling poor for a few weeks, but suddenly we had the solid proof sitting there, staring at us from the dining table where neither of us dared touch it. I did eventually put in in my wallet, after all the whole point of it is to make sure our family can still afford medical care.

It's incredibly difficult to dig yourself out of a pit of depression when something like this happens, but every day I would put on my happy face and push my sadness into the depths of my mind so I could be there for Jude and not allow any of it to affect him. That was my number 1 priority, after all taking care of him is my job and I will never be laid off.

My husband got really sick and was vomiting constantly, then for 5 nights he didn't sleep at all and was little more than the walking dead throughout the day, venturing out from the bedroom from time to time in an attempt to make an appearance. So for a week I was living like a single mum, with all the weight of the world on my shoulders. I would crawl off to the bathroom for a cry then pull myself together and come back "happy mummy".

Amazingly, things seem to be improving for us and there are several good prospects on offer. We will be living fairly strictly on a tight budget for a while, but we're both confident that we'll be okay. We're no longer thinking and feeling poor, and that mental shift makes the world of difference.

Jude is One!

2009-10-21T04:01:00.001-07:00

Jude and I have been doing the rounds of first birthday parties lately. In the last 8 weeks or so I think we might have had 1 weekend free. It's been great fun and only slightly exhausting.

Jude, of course, had his own birthday party which was a real milestone. It's not that we were waiting impatiently for him to turn 1, but his first anniversary of life was remarkable. It's hard to believe that 1 year before he hadn't taken a single breath or seen our faces, and while he certainly existed he was still a blank canvas on which life could splash its many colours and varied textures.

That first year of life was so phenomenally important to Jude. I hope that we were able to provide him all the love, support, patience and everything he needs to become a happy adult in later life. During that year he made the most incredible leaps and bounds learning more in one year than I can really comprehend.

He still has sooooo much to learn and new skills to gain. He has reached all his milestones in timely fashion and continues to demonstrate new skills every single day, but I experienced something interesting the other day.

I meet with a group of mothers from my hospital antenatal class, and our children were all born within 1.5 months of each other. However, many of those children are now walking. It's normal for children to start walking between 9 and 16 months, but almost all of Jude's peers have started walking at 12 months. Jude is cruising happily around the furniture, but I'm not expecting him to take independent steps any time soon. I'm perfectly happy with the situation, make no mistakes. The interesting thing is yet to be revealed, I was just scene setting.

Jack is 2 weeks younger than Jude but has taken to walking with great finesse and expertise. He is a real toddler now. At Jack's party the other day I noticed myself responding to Jack as a toddler, while I still treat Jude a little more like a baby even though Jack is 2 weeks younger. I caught myself doing this and I was a little surprised because it made me realise that even though Jude is still crawling he is getting older and he's not a little baby any more.

He no longer cries like a baby with that little Waaa Waaa sob. When he cries he does so with the enthusiasm of a little boy. He expresses his needs more now and he's constantly demonstrating his awareness of his surroundings.

I feel a little bit confused because he's not, technically, a toddler yet and he will always be my baby. His motor skills may be lacking, but mentally and emotionally he's a little boy now and I need to be aware of that so that I respond to his emotional and mental needs appropriately.

My breast feeding advice to new mums

2009-08-23T21:12:00.000-07:00

As Jude strides ever closer to his first birthday I am thinking about the plethora of changes he's been through in the last year and at the beginning of it all there is a fuzzy memory of sleep deprivation and constant breast feeding that was the single most exhausting and emotionally draining time in my life.

I feel achingly sad when I reflect on that time. It was a time I can't say with any honesty that I enjoyed but my little boy is growing up so quickly and I can't have any of that time back. Those first 3 months in particular were hard on me, but I would give anything to be able to do them over so I could get it right this time.

Next time round (baby numero 2) will be different, I'll know what I'm doing and I'll also know not to listen to a damn word anyone has to say about anything. I know it will be just as exhausting but I'll be confident in myself and that single fact will make all the difference.

My heart goes out to first-time mums just starting the journey now. All that self doubt, endless mother guilt, uncertainty, second guessing every move you make. I've thought and I've thought of the one thing, if anything, that I could give as advice to any new mother.

Here it is:

***

When the midwife tells you to practice Demand Feeding, and then adds "Bub should feed for at least 40 minutes every 4 to 6 hours, 8 to 10 times in 24 hours" you need to find the strength inside yourself to fully realise that counting hours between feeds and timing how long each feed takes is NOT demand feeding.

This is the stupid, counter-intuitive and completely contradictory advice that almost every mum is given in hospital. I believe it is this advice that sets many mothers into a tail spin of confusion and self-doubt. Look at it again and acknowledge that it doesn't make sense.

Listen to your baby and only your baby. Let him sleep if he sleeps, even if it has been more than 6 hours between feeds. You'll know if something is wrong. Get rid of the clock and that stupid stopwatch you use to time feeds.

Maybe your baby will sleep for 10 hours between feeds, and then wake up hungry and feed like a champ. That's 10 hours of sleep you could be getting, why mess with that? There's a good chance that the next feed will be loudly demanded only 2 hours later. That's how babies really demand feed, none of that using a stopwatch crap.

If bub feeds from the same boob twice in a row you'll know when your other breast starts leaking milk all over the place. If bub didn't quite get enough milk during a feed, you'll also know when he or she wakes up in an hour and wants more milk. It will all come out even in the end.

***

In the top drawer of my dresser is a notebook with pages and pages filled with the time and duration of Jude's feeds in his early life, as well as which breast he fed predominantly from and extra notes that tell me whether he woke up for a feed or I woke him in a panic after 8 hours since his last feed. When I look at this notebook now my heart breaks and I can't stop the tears from welling because I know that it was all a terrible waste of effort and time that lead to bad feeding practices and resulted in Jude self-weaning at just 4 months.

To the Good Health of our Babies

2009-08-17T20:20:00.000-07:00

I just watched an episode of Oprah with Celine Dion where they showcased some amazing survival stories of children and highlighted the tragic death of baby Eliot born with the non-viable condition of Trisomy 18.

Such heart-breaking and tear-jerking accounts of life are great to watch because they remind me of how fragile life is and how incredible it is to watch Jude grow and learn and become a little man. I am reminded to embrace every day with him and to know that his good health and happiness are more important than anything else on this entire planet.

This week Jude has had some trouble in the middle of the night and we've had several nights not sleeping before 2am because Jude has been upset. He's fine during the day, but something has been bothering him. It could be teething (he does have a tooth slowly pushing through), but I think he had a tummy ache last night and he did a bad poo that burned his bum.

While he was crying I took him to our bed and held him in my arms, gently rubbing his belly in the I Love You* pattern from my baby-massage guide. His little eyes searched my face and I saw him asking me why it hurt, why he was in pain and I couldn't answer him or do very much more to take the pain away.

I would have done anything to take his pain away. It is a humbling reminder of the torture that parents must experience when their child is born disabled or with an incurable disease, or even premature babies or babies with respiratory problems.

Which reminds me how horrified and completely unsympathetic I am to smokers who continue to smoke through pregnancy and around their children. It's sickening. Oh shut up about your addiction and get over it you f-ing selfish loser!!!!!! What kind of monster would jeopardize the health of their child when there is nothing more precious on the face of this Earth than the health and well being of our children?

* I Love You is spelled by gently tracing the letter I (a vertical line) down the left side of baby's tummy. Then an L shape (L for Love) is formed upside down by tracing a horizontal line from right to left across the top of baby's tummy then re-tracing the vertical line down the left side. The U (for You) is written by tracing a vertical line up the right side, across the top from right to left and then down the left side. This clockwise massage is supposed to be good for baby's digestion by following the direction of the intestine.

The emotionally-scarring case of Benjamin Button

2009-07-09T17:08:00.000-07:00

Something dramatic has happened since the birth of my son. When I became a mum I could no longer watch any movie with a baby in it the same way again.

Last night we watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, a movie about a man who is born old and ages backwards. I was interested in the movie because I think we all feel that youth is wasted on the young, who can't truly appreciate their freedom and vitality because they don't know any different.

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The movie was going quite nicely until Benjamin, aged around 40, walked out on his 1-year-old baby and left her fatherless. That snake of a director showed a peaceful sleeping baby lying blissfully unaware while her daddy rode away on a motorbike.

All I could think of was my own sleeping angel, so similar in age at 9 months.

Benjamin left because he knew as he got younger he would eventually be too young to be a dad, but at 40 years of age he still had a good 20 years of fatherhood until his daughter would be an adult herself. His choice to leave set off my emotional rocket, fueled by anger at such a decision.

From then on my emotions ran wild as Benjamin himself turned into a helpless child, his memory failing as his brain and body continue to shrink.

Daisy, his lover-come-mother remembers watching him unlearn how to talk and forget how to walk until finally he is a newborn lying swaddled in her arms. He opens his eyes and looks up at her and in that moment she knows that he remembers her, and the next moment he closes his eyes and is snuffed out of existence.

At this point I completely lost it. The end of the movie shows a life being undone. The baby Benjamin unravels from life, his young mind loses knowledge and he unlearns everything he knows, until life itself merely seeps away from him.

I am shaken to the core after watching that movie. As a mother I have watched my baby learn. His little mind is like a very dense sponge, his little body is always stretching beyond his capabilities to accomplish new feats.

First Jude was just a newborn baby wrapped in swaddling, then he learned to swat with his hands, then he learned how to grab and kick with his feet, then he learned to roll from side to side and how to sit up with a straight back, then he started reaching for objects out of his reach and could roll across the floor to reach them. Now he is trying to learn how to crawl, stand up and walk. Every day he tries something new and every day he learns something new.

I can't make peace with the concept of a baby unlearning. That final image of the baby Benjamin shutting his eyes and blinking out of existence is simply too much for me to cope with.

A person is conceived and grows and is born then continues to grow and learn and experience life, never the other way around. It just goes to show that youth is not wasted on the young, it is their privilege.

PS. My husband didn't experience the same overwhelming emotional response to the movie, so maybe it's just me.

Advice for our children

2009-07-01T05:21:00.000-07:00

I saw a report on TV the other night stating that "our" generation is staying home with our parents well into our 20s and even our 30s. The suggestion was the we are mooching off our parents, but I say it's not our fault.

When our parents were our age (and younger) they married earlier and lived happily on a single family income. The fact is that house prices in those days were much, much more affordable.

We have a situation now where executive power couples (DINKS) are pushing real-estate prices up. Families on single incomes struggle to find an affordable first home so they can break into the housing market. Single people traditionally rent and don't consider buying their first home until ... well, until it's too late.

6 years ago I had enough money saved for a down payment on a small apartment but I moved to Japan for a few years to experience life in a different culture and decided to horde my savings. I didn't know anything about real estate and didn't understand how difficult things would become when I was looking for a home at the age of 32, no longer working and raising a small child on my husband's single income.

If I had bought a small apartment and rented it out while I was overseas I would have returned to a partially-paid mortgage on an investment that had increased in value. In other words, I would have already taken a step on the bottom rung of the real-estate ladder, but being single and young (I was 26) I didn't see the urgency.

Now I understand all too well.

When Jude is older and looking at moving out of home for the first time, my advice to him will be to buy a small studio apartment or an empty warehouse or a shoebox if that's what it takes, anything to get him on that bottom housing rung. I'll do everything in my power to help him.

Personally I think it will be a better investment if I helped him on a down payment for a small studio apartment than to have him mooch off me until he's 35. I really wish my parents had given me that same advice and helped me find and manage an investment property, but I guess "their" generation doesn't understand how hard it is for us. I vow not to let this happen to Jude.

Ode to my Baby

2009-06-17T16:00:00.001-07:00

As Jude lay in my arms last night, giggling quietly to himself while falling asleep, I sat rocking him gently and cherished every moment. A few minutes earlier he had cried out for me through the darkness of the night and I rushed to his side as I always do when he cries.

My beautiful boy who loves his mummy and needs very little more than to be loved in return. I cherish every waking moment with you in my arms and when you cry out for me I hold it close to my heart.

One day you'll be all grown up and you won't need me any more. The times when you will crawl happily into my arms are few and short lived.

I implore all mothers and fathers out there, please don't ignore your baby when he or she cries out for you, your baby needs and wants you now but that won't long be the case. Cherish it while you can.

Toy Emulation - let's all buy the same toys

2009-05-29T18:17:00.000-07:00

I've unearthed yet another strange phenomenon in motherhood. I'm going to name it Toy Emulation. This refers to the act of coveting the same toys (and other child-related objects) that other mothers have bought for their own children, the end result being that everyone owns the exact same stuff. The other side of Toy Emulation is that when a mother doesn't buy all the toys she is left feeling guilty and left out.

I wonder if this behaviour has ever been observed in literature. I should write a thesis and get a doctorate, but that can wait.

My first inkling to the existence of Toy Emulation came just after Christmas 2008. My sister gave Jude a set of linked plastic rings. Jude was 2 and a half months old and the rings were perfectly age appropriate for him. They quickly became the toy of choice that I took on outings. The rings clipped easily to his stroller, I could clip his dummy to them and I could hold one end of the chain while Jude played with the other end.

Soon after Christmas I joined a Mothers' Group and during one of the presentations on appropriate toys, the speaker commented on Jude's rings and said they were a good toy. The next week several mothers had bought similar rings after seeing Jude playing happily with his set.

Around the same time I noticed absolutely every mother from here to Timbuktu was buying the rather expensive Fisherprice Baby Swing. This bulky item requires space, a constant supply of batteries and a lot of spare cash, but it was the must-have item for infants. I am, to this day, left with a nagging feeling that I missed out because I was the only mother who didn't buy one.

I didn't really think much of it until more recently. As our children grow and become more interactive with their toys, we are all concerned about keeping our children entertained and engaged, so we've all become more mindful about their toys. A lumpy rubber ball proved popular amongst the babies and we all decided to buy one.

The most popular item recently, however, has been the alphabet mat. This mat consists of 26 colourful squares with pop-out letters. The squares link together to make a big play mat. My parents have one to cover their hardwood floors when their grandkids come over. One of the mothers in my Mothers' Group had one to cover her hard tiles. A rubber mat make a lot of sense for covering hard floors, and this particular item is only $18 from the Reject Shop so it's not going to break the bank. The problem is that all of a sudden absolutely everyone has to have one, so they sold out from the Reject Shop almost instantly. They cost $40 from toy stores, but they've sold out too (so I've heard, I haven't looked).

After a meeting with some mums the other day we were discussing the rubber mat (because the mum hosting the group had one). That same afternoon I had an email from one of the other mums who had rushed out to search for one and was letting us know that she had found a shop with 3 remaining mats in stock.

I had that nagging feeling creeping up inside me again. It was the Fisherprice swing all over again. But I have carpet and I just fail to see how I need the rubber alphabet mat. At 8-months of age Jude's hardly going to be learning to read quite yet. I saw a beautiful giant floor puzzle in Big W for $20 that I liked a lot more than the rubber mat, which I'll keep in mind for when the time comes that Jude is learning things like that. I am not going to buy the rubber alphabet mat, I don't have hard floors and I don't need it, but damn Toy Emulation and that guilty doubt!

I did buy the lumpy rubber ball and the Fisherprice stacking cups, but I bought them because I had seen Jude playing with them and he liked them both, and Jude has the most minimal collection of toys I've ever seen, so I thought it was a good idea to buy him a couple of new toys I knew he already enjoyed. I do admit, however, that even I - the world's least consumer-driven mother in the entire universe - am not immune to the powerful phenomenon that is Toy Emulation.

Songs you can play on the V-Tech Baby Walker

2009-05-19T20:22:00.001-07:00

Jude has started standing up (with our support) so it was time to move to a new type of interactive toy. He seemed to be growing bored of the toys he already had, so I put my thinking cap on and decided the perfect toy was something that would encourage him to reach up and press buttons. I found the V-tech First Steps Baby Walker which is a walker, but not one of those hideously dangerous ones that you strap your baby into and then hurl them down a staircase (why those things are bought or sold by anyone is beyond me).

I waited and waited until I found the V-tech baby walker going cheap on Ebay and then I snapped it up. At the moment I think I play with it more than he does. It took me some effort, but I collected a few songs that can be played on the 5-note piano keys. Here they are, numbered and colour-coordinated:

When the Saints go marching in
A C D E
A C D E
A C D E C A C B
C C B A A C E E D
B C D E C A B A

Heidi-Ho (the great big elephant is so slow)
E C E C A
A B C D C B E C A
E C E C A
A B C D C B A
E E C D C E C A
A B C D C B E C A
E C E C A
A B C D C B A

Mary had a little lamb
C B A B C C C
B B B C E E
C B A B C C C
C B B C B A

Jingle Bells
C C C C C C
C E A B C
D D D D D C C
C C C B B C B E
C C C C C C
C E A B C
D D D D D C C
C C E E D B A

Hot Cross Buns
C B A C B A
E E E E
A A A A
C B A

If anyone knows any other 5-note songs that will work as well, please leave me a comment below.

Tricks to cheer up a grumpy baby

2009-05-05T23:25:00.000-07:00

I wish I had discovered these little tricks earlier, but I only just stumbled on them now that Jude is nearly 7 months old.

When he is grumpy (not crying or distraught), I can cheer him up instantly by blowing a gentle puff of air on his hair above his forehead. It must tickle him, but he forgets he's in a bad mood and starts smiling and babbling. It's such a wonderful trick.

The other means of instant entertainment is a little harder to describe. I draw a circle in air just above his face and then beep him softly on the nose. He thinks it's hilarious and forgets about having a grump so he can have a laugh instead.

I wonder how much younger he was when these tricks would have started working. If only I'd known them sooner.

When it gets easier to be a mother

2009-04-19T18:23:00.000-07:00

"I know it's hard now, but things will get better."

This is the adage that gets thrown around and quoted endlessly to new mothers. It's true, but not at all helpful. When I was a new mother I knew things would get better but the only thing I wanted to know was "when?".

After I joined a mothers group I was able to observe common behaviour among babies of the same age group and it became clear that there are definite changes that occur for all babies of the same age at certain times, and I am here to shine the light at the end of the tunnel for any new mothers so they can clearly see exactly when things will get better.

The first 3 months are tough and babies need a lot of constant attention, but after that things start to improve.

1. At around 3 months all babies can lie on their back on a play mat and swipe purposefully at toys hanging above them as they studiously learn the motor skills required to aim at hanging objects. Parents should introduce this activity from about 2 months. This form of play keeps a baby occupied for only a short time (at first just a few minutes), but will allow an exhausted mother a chance to sit back, eat a sandwich and watch her baby without having to hold and rock her baby in her arms.

2. Around 4 months all babies start to have longer attention spans and greatly improved motor skills when playing with toys. Linked plastic rings are an excellent toy at this age as babies can grasp them easily and enjoy putting them in their mouths. A baby might stay relaxed for about half an hour while sitting on your lap so you can attend mothers group meetings or meet friends for lunch.

3. Around 5 months all babies enjoy lying on a soft mat and playing independently with toys while mum is nearby. This is a great opportunity to get back into yoga (which your baby will find hilariously entertaining) or catch up with some work-from-home.

Note: If you've struggled with sleep patterns with your baby, rest assured that by now (but even before 5 months) tired signs should be very clear (rubbing eyes and yawning) and your baby will have developed his/her own sleep routines. Don't believe the hype, you do not need to force routines on your baby, they will sort themselves out and you don't have to wear yourself thin attempting to keep your baby awake or force feeds when your baby is already asleep.

4. Around 6 months all babies start enjoying food and can grasp rusks and other sticks of age-appropriate food to feed themselves and keep themselves entertained, but always watch your baby eating to make sure s/he doesn't choke. Some babies at this age can sit well on their own, roll around, crawl or even pull themselves up to stand by holding on to furniture. You need to keep an eye on your baby, but you will find more time to be able to do your own thing.

Note: Babies develop these skills at vastly different ages so don't be alarmed if your baby can't do all these things.

An important word about TV: It is not recommended to allow your baby to watch TV. "Experts suspect that babies younger than two years old view TV as a confusing array of colors, images, and noises" (source). So even though TV does mesmerise babies giving mummy more time to herself, it is overstimulating and does absolutely nothing to help your child's development. "Research has demonstrated that many young children believe that TV characters actually live inside the TV set. This can confuse young children’s understanding of the world and get in the way of their learning what’s right or wrong" (source). Yes, it's very tempting to plop baby down in front of Dora or Elmo, but imagine how those TV worlds are interpreted by a baby's mind. It's scary to think.

Parenting without family support

2009-04-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

There is some debate these days about what age is best for having children. Whether you're young and full of energy or older with an established career and a passport of travel experiences, one thing remains constant no matter how old you are. It is important to have family around when you have a baby.

This fact has come rushing at us from all angles as we dived into parenthood head-first with no family around to guide us through the murky waters. Jeremy's family lives in the USA and my family lives all over the place, but nowhere near me.

I confess that I didn't ever imagine it would be such a problem. When we first made the decision to start a family we gave ourselves 6 months to settle in to the idea as well as taking a round-the-world holiday as a last hurrah to our easy, child-free life. We thought we were so smart and prepared, but the truth was that the arrival of our baby was a complete shock.

There we were, treading water in the deep-end, trying to keep our heads above the water, with no one to throw a life ring to help us float.

I've since learned that many people have family members come and stay for months while they get used to their new roles as parents. Apparently, according to a mother I met recently, it is customary in Taiwan for new mothers to stay in bed for a month and not lift a finger to do anything. Family is there to do everything for her.

When I told doctors in those first few weeks of Jude's life that there was no family around, they all (every single one) remarked how difficult it would be for me and indicated that I was, therefore, a prime candidate for Post Natal Depression.

It all turned out to be very true. The absence of family was very noticeable. There was never a moment of downtime, there was no one to take Jude for a walk or mind him for a few hours, no one I could trust completely to take control of my life for a while, not even a single person I could ask to help out around the house or perhaps cook a meal for us. Jeremy and I had to do everything for ourselves, and Jeremy only had 2 weeks off work which very quickly put me on a 24/7 roster with not a moment to myself.

How could that not make me exhausted and depressed? How could I not have collapsed under the weight of all that responsibility? If I'd actually known what I was doing, if I'd had some experience as a mother perhaps I could have coped, but it was all new to me and the learning curve was extremely steep.

Now, 6 months down the track, things are much easier and I've settled into my role as mother. I've figured out what I'm doing and the learning curve has levelled out sufficiently so I'm no longer tackling a million new things every moment. People did tell me it would get better, but the problem with being a new mother is that you don't know when it will get better, there's no visible light at the end of the deep dark tunnel of love and with no family around shining a torch to guide the way, it's a very lonely and scary ride.

Why do mothers judge each other?

2009-03-27T15:16:00.000-07:00

Where is the solidarity between mothers? Why do we feel a need to cast a side-long glance in the direction of every other mum we pass on the street?

There are so many ways for women to judge each other and I ask the question, do men do that? Do men get through life constantly questioning the moves and motives of every other man, or do they get on with their own lives confidently, not worrying what the father next door is doing?

We, as women and mothers, need to stop being so critical. Does it hurt me or impact on my life in any way, shape or form that you do things differently? If it does not, then I should spare you my judgement.

Whether you choose to stay at home or continue your career, use cloth nappies or disposables, breastfeed your child until he's 3 years old or bottle feed from birth, give your child toys that I don't approve of ... we can disagree about these things until we lie down and die, but it doesn't achieve anything and all that time, all those years of motherhood spent scornfully snarling at each other's choices, merely increases the great gaping divide between us to further isolate and alienate each other.

I now realise that this constant criticism between women and mothers comes from a place of fragile insecurity in ourselves. First and foremost we judge ourselves too easily. We don't expect other women to be super mums, but we do expect that from ourselves. So we try to make the right decisions, we try to do the best we can and so finally we come to the conclusion that our way is the only way.

My supposedly comforting advice to another mother "do whatever is best for you and it will be what's best for your baby" came back to haunt me when, after struggling with breastfeeding for 4 and a half months I finally accepted that I had "failed". Jude was happier now that he was no longer fighting me off at meal times and was getting a full feed, and theoretically I understood that I had done everything I could and it wasn't my fault, but emotionally I continue to struggle. After a month I still find myself wondering if it would be possible to restart breastfeeding as I squeeze a little remnant milk from my nipple just to make sure ... I don't know why.

It doesn't help that when I meet other mothers and share my sad tale they ask me if I did this or tried that, and look at me with disrespect, tearing away at my already tattered ego. It's too late now anyway, even if I hadn't already tried everything. Nothing you can say will change things now and your scorn makes me feel terrible.

Having been on the receiving end of such judgement I see now with wide-open eyes that we, as women and mothers, should be there for each other and put aside our differences to give each other the support and love that we really, really need.

Competing, Lies and Mothers

2009-03-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

True to my self-doubting form, I invited a community nurse to visit me at home and observe Jude's sleeping and eating routines. This was about a month ago, before I finally accepted the end of breast feeding and before I realised Jude's sleeping patterns were quite normal.

While the nurse was visiting us Jude slept perfectly (of course), so I ended up chatting with the nurse about motherhood in general and other mums (no single mum in particular). She told me how shocked she often is during group meetings when mums start talking about how perfect their babies are and how well they sleep/feed/learn/play etc. As a community nurse she has spoken to the same mothers in private who say very different things to her about their experience.

I can't help but notice how 90% of the mothers I interact with tell me that their babies sleep through the night, when everything I read in parenting books or hear from the medical health community tells me that most babies don't sleep through the night.

A little probing reveals that "sleeping through" means very different things to different people. One mother I spoke to recently admitted her baby wakes up at 5am every morning ready to start the day. In fact, many of the mothers who claim their babies sleep through are very early risers, out strutting the pavement with their babies and prams at sunrise.

Other mums have revealed that their babies don't sleep until later at night. One mother told me that she is often still awake at midnight struggling to settle her baby to sleep.

Other mothers say "my baby sleeps from 7 til 7," but if you listen carefully you'll hear them mutter under their breath "she wakes up around 3am, but I give her a little drink of milk and a cuddle and she goes back to sleep."

I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly? So what you're really saying is that your baby wakes up in the middle of the night for a feed. How exactly is that "sleeping through"?

The concept of "sleeping through" means to me that a baby goes to bed at 7pm and wakes again at 7am without so much as flinching through the night (they can flinch, as long as it doesn't wake up mum and dad). How many babies do that, I ask? My guess is very very few.

Mothers out there, stop lying! You're not being at all helpful or constructive by painting your picture with rose-hued brush strokes. It isn't a competition, we're supposed to be there to support each other by creating realistic expectations and sharing true information. I'm sure you don't want to be a negative Nelly but there's a big difference between staying positive about your experience and telling outright BS!

Well I'm here to set the record straight. Next time you hear someone telling you their life with baby is perfect, rest assured it simply isn't true.

5-Month-Old Angel

2009-03-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

Jude has been perfectly delightful lately. He smiles, giggles and babbles constantly. Just yesterday he discovered that his toes reach his mouth, and it's the cutest thing in the world to see him with his bum in the air, hands grasping his feet and his toes between his gums. Don't be fooled. If you see a cute photo of a baby, there's a very good chance it isn't a newborn. Most likely that cute, smiling little bundle of joy is at least 5 months old.

He's also taken to sleeping a lot during the day. He doesn't sleep for too long, but he sleeps like clockwork. 1 hour of sleep followed by 2 hours of awake time then back to sleep for another hour. However, this means he has 4 day-time sleeps which is more than other babies his age. It is a bit of problem for trying to organise my day, especially now that I'm going to Mothers Group.

I've introduced him to solid food. So far he's eating breakfast and dinner but I'm going to add in lunch (I guess) tomorrow (I have to buy some more food first). Breakfast and dinner are easy to implement, but lunch will be a bit tricky since (a) I have not (and never will) force Jude onto a strict routine just for my own convenience and (b) I'm not sure how to manage lunch if I am out-and-about. Anyway, I'm sure it will sort itself out, these things have a way of just working.

Lately Jeremy has been taking the night shift. Since Jude decided to wean himself off the boob, Jeremy can bottle feed him as easily as I can, and since Jeremy can get back to sleep after waking up in the middle of the night and I can't, it makes more sense this way.

However, after 8 solid months of no sleep (including the third trimester when I had pelvic displacement and the pain kept me awake), my body clock was completely out of whack and I just can't sleep any more, so I took some sleeping pills for a few nights to reprogram my sleep patterns and it helped. I have since dropped the sleeping pills and I'm now taking natural melatonin. Last night was a bit difficult for some reason, I think because I had a set-back the night before when the neighbours decided to do aerobics in the middle of the night (or something, they probably came home drunk and decided it was a good time for Dance Dance Revolution).

I just have to keep working on it. I know I'm not alone. I know there are other mothers out there who can't get back to sleep after feeding their babies, either (although I am yet to meet one), but I wonder if I'm the only mother who still can't sleep even now I don't have to get up to feed my baby.

The 4 Month Baby

2009-02-28T22:53:00.000-08:00

At 3 months people started to congratulate me for getting through the hard part. With the days of the eat-sleep-eat-sleep routine falling behind us, things were starting to look up. It was true that my days were getting better.

As Jude gained week upon week, he started to be a little more independent every day. I remember the first time I put him on his play mat and vacuumed around him. Joy! I could finally get things done again. People with babies that sleep well during the day may not understand what an accomplishment that single feat was, but it was a mega-milestone. The ability to function can not be taken lightly, I personally will never take it for granted again.

However, despite Jude's growing autonomy and despite the congratulatory remarks around 3 months, things were still tricky. Jude's signals for hunger and sleep were still lacking and I didn't feel like I was on top of things quite yet, but by the time 4 months rolled around life with baby had really improved.

The books all tell you to watch for tired signs like rubbing their eyes, but they neglect to tell you that babies don't start with the clear perfect signs like eye rubbing until they're a little bit older, for Jude that was around 4 months. All of a sudden he became a little communicator. "Mummy, I'm tired," he would tell me with his fist in his eye and a little yawn on his perfect lips.

He's also started sleeping better during the day and when he wakes up too soon still grumpy, I can pick him up and give him a little cuddle and a kiss then put him back to sleep again. Today I took a nap in the middle of the day! It's taken me nearly 5 months to achieve that gargantuan goal, but achieve it I did.

Every day he seems to learn something new. First it was rolling around, then trying to sit up, then actually being able to sit for a couple of seconds on his own, yesterday he put his own dummy back in his mouth (and today he practised that trick some more). We just bought him a highchair and he was just sitting in it playing with his toys from a new angle without mummy holding him.

Jude smiles and laughs all the time, and he's ticklish under his armpits where he loves to be munched on by mummy. Yes that's right, he's no longer one of those weird little alien creatures, he's a little man with a very happy and charming personality. As his night sleeps improve, that light at the end of the tunnel is shining very brightly.

The isolation of motherhood - Does anyone else understand?

2009-01-09T02:03:00.000-08:00

Some people love babies. Personally, I have never been a baby person. I enjoy the antics of toddlers and children who can in some form express their needs, be it in words or gestures, but babies are a mystery to me and having a 3-month old hasn’t changed that despite everyone’s (and I mean everyone) predictions that I would be miraculously "cured" of my attitude once I had a baby of my own. I didn't choose to procreate just so I could have a baby, I wanted to raise a child to be a good person.

It seems to me that human babies are born way too soon. When I was pregnant with Jude it was my job to protect him, feed him, keep him warm and deal with his waste. Since his birth nothing’s changed, except now instead of all those things being automatic, they now take a hell of a lot of time and effort. No other animal is born so completely dependant on its mother for so long after birth.

As far as babies go, Jude is a lovely little boy. He has a smile to melt the iciest heart and I love to watch him learning to reach out and play with his toys. Just the other day I saw him pass an object from his left hand to his right hand, and that tiny feat made me so proud of him, but most of my day is spent feeding him, changing his nappy, and trying to settle him back to sleep.

There’s no end to it, either. This isn’t an 8-hour work day, it’s 24 hours every day of the week. I don’t have weekends to look forward to and at the end of the day I can’t just say "phew, that was a tough day I’m exhausted, I can’t wait to lie down and have a good night’s sleep." I’m still waking up through the night to feed, change and settle Jude. It’s like being tied to a wheel. It just goes round and round and there’s no end to it in sight.

The tough part is that I keep hearing from other mothers with babies Jude’s age that their babies sleep for a long stretch at night, and have done so for the past month or more. I feel like no one in the entire world understands how I feel. I had no idea that motherhood could be so completely isolating both physically and mentally.

I’m about to start attending a mothers group, finally, but I’m afraid that it will just make me feel even worse when I am confronted by all those other mothers who don’t relate to me and my situation at all. Is there anyone who understands?

Invalidation from Other Mothers

2008-12-16T15:43:00.000-08:00

Mothers groups and online forums provide a wonderful means of communicating with other mothers during the often bewildering first weeks and months of new motherhood. As each mother's experience is unique, the opportunity to share with other women is a golden chance to find solidarity with other mothers who are also figuring things out as they go.

Unfortunately, mothers groups and online parenting forums can also be completely invalidating. Online forums have proven particularly damaging when they provide little more than a façade of comfort (which occurs if closer real-life connections are not made). In the past year, an Australian mother suffering severe post natal depression reached out across multiple parenting forums for support and found none. She broke down and killed her children. This is an extreme example but serves as a terrifying reminder of the potentially damaging effects of invalidation.

One primary cause of invalidation is that many mothers feel judged by others and themselves and worry that their feelings may not be normal so they present a very one-angled view of their experience. When mothers share only fragmented pieces of their experience, it merely acts to reinforce the sense that the feelings they have kept to themselves are abnormal.

If a woman does share the deeper parts of her experience, the response from other mothers is vitally important. Invalidating responses range from seemingly benign to outright cruel.

Hollow sympathy, i.e., "I hope it gets better for you soon," diminishes the mother's experience by openly suggesting that (a) her experience is not shared, and (b) her experience is fleeting and is, therefore, insignificant. This is one of the most common responses from other mothers, and due to its seemingly genuinely sympathetic nature can also be one of the most damaging and invalidating responses. Such responses tend to pile up on a mother until she feels her reality has been reduced to complete irrelevance by the women around her.

Similarly, many mothers who have had multiple children forget the difficulties and confusion they faced the first time around. Subsequent children are viewed through the rose-coloured lenses of experience. There are quite a number of ways an experienced mother invalidates the concerns of a first-time mother. "We've all been there before, don't worry", "They grow up so fast, enjoy these early weeks while you can", "if you feel like that you should talk to someone" are all dangerously harmful responses which lack solidarity and diminish a mother's reality.

Outright cruel responses, such as "you're a bad mum", are thankfully less common but they do occur and are obviously damaging on a woman's psyche.

So what should be done?

As members of mothers groups and online forums it's vitally important to treat every woman's experience as real. Validating responses acknowledge the mother's feelings and opinions as true, honest and acceptable.

For example: One of the mothers from my mothers group commented that she feels judged when she is bottle-feeding her baby in public. I acknowledged her reality by agreeing that some woman will judge her, but I also comforted her by letting her know that not all women will judge her and that I didn't judge her. Finally, I validated her choice to bottle feed by reminding her that her choice makes her life easier and happier and is therefore the best choice for her baby. One of the other mothers in the group then added that she has experienced the same feelings of judgement while bottle feeding in public as well.

It would have been icy cold comfort if I had simply said "oh honey, I hope it gets better for you,” and there is little chance the other mother would have opened up and shared her experience. Hopefully you can see how that would have actually had a negative impact on the mother. Please keep this in mind if you have an opportunity to validate the reality of a first-time mum. Your response will make the world of the difference. I should know, I am a first-time mum.

Getting Baby to Sleep

2008-12-13T21:48:00.001-08:00

I'm not glad that I paid $200 for antenatal classes that turned out to be entirely useless. They didn't prepare me for the reality of what I experienced in giving birth, nor did they prepare me for the reality of what comes next.

We were told babies follow a routine of feed-play-sleep (or simply feed-sleep for newborns). However, Jude did not care for supposed routines. From week 4 to week 8 he flat out refused to sleep during the day, thus making it impossible for me to do anything (like eat lunch or get dressed) during the day.

It was incredibly frustrating. Yes, some babies do follow by-the-book routines but some babies don't and it's unfair to disarm expectant mothers by pretending otherwise. I was completely oblivious to how severely my life would be turned upside down and dumped on its head by having a baby that didn't nap during the day, and by day I mean from 8am until 11 o'clock at night.

Almost all babies start off life waking every 3 or 4 hours (some every 2 hours) through the night. For me this meant that Jude feeds at 10pm, then 2am, then 5am, then 8am and I try to sleep in between. Some babies grow out of this pattern and start skipping one of those night-time feeds. According to one of my baby bibles (which I rushed out to buy as soon as I realised the antenatal classes had been a flat-out waste of money), babies can't really sustain themselves overnight until they're about 5kgs because their stomach is too small prior to that.

Jude was born smaller than average and at nearly 10 weeks of age he still hasn't reached 5kgs. Many babies will reach 5kgs as early as 6 weeks of age. This means that while all those mums with babies the same age as Jude are complaining they can only sleep from 8pm until 7am (what?), I am still getting up twice in the middle of the night to feed Jude and I leap with joy on the rare occasion that I get 5 hours in a row of beautiful, blissful, uninterrupted sleep.

Note: Not all babies start skipping night feeds once they reach the golden weight of 5kgs. Some babies still wake for feeds at 1 year of age or even older.

Happily, Jude has started sleeping more during the day allowing me time to catch up on much needed tasks like cleaning my bathroom (which was a bit skanky after 8 weeks of mold cultivation). I'm not sure if we've done anything to encourage the sleeping or Jude's doing it on his own, but we have tried very hard by putting him to bed when we think he's tired. There are supposed to be clear signs that a baby is tired, but Jude's signs are subtle and we function on guess work.

I've learned through trial and error that Jude likes it when I sit by his bassinet and read him a story. He's not interested in the pictures and I'm sure he has no idea what I'm saying, but a reading voice is different from a conversation voice, there's a certain rhythm to the written word that helps calm Jude and lull him towards sleep. My aim is simply to quieten him to a state of peace so he can put himself to sleep when I leave the room.

Jeremy's technique is to sing him a medley of songs with the same tune, like the ABC and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

It's been a long, confusing and exhausting journey to help Jude sleep. The scary part is, what works today might suddenly stop working tomorrow. With babies you just never know. As my GP said, as soon as you think there's a routine developing something happens and everything changes.

Warning: Bad advice and Mastitis

2008-11-04T16:25:00.000-08:00

While in hospital after giving birth to Jude I tried to make use of the supposed deep well of knowledge that were the nurses and midwives surrounding me. I thought "I'm going to be out on my own soon. I should ask all the questions I can think of now so I am prepared when I go home". In retrospect, I wish I'd done anything but ask for help.

36 solid hours with not a wink of sleep following labour, my first night in hospital saw me falling apart at the seams with fatigue. At 10pm a night nurse told me I had a "sleepy baby" and I needed to wake up every 2 hours to feed him. She told me to set my alarm for midnight. She took Jude to the nursery so I could have a short uninterrupted sleep before I had to wake up again. All I could do was cry but I wanted to do the right thing by my son, so I set to work feeding him constantly without any sleep.

The next day the paediatrician came in and was horrified to see on Jude's chart that he had been subjected to a blood sugar test and that I had been subjected to feeding round the clock. "He doesn't actually need to eat," Dr Withers told me. "His stomach is the size of a pea and it's full of amniotic fluid. The only reason to feed him is to give him a little colostrum and get some practice at breastfeeding."

All the same, the idea that I had a sleepy baby and that something was wrong with Jude stuck with me and I couldn't stop waking to feed him. I just wanted to be a good mother to my little innocent baby boy.

Now, Jude was a natural at attaching to the breast, but being a first time mum I didn't know what correct attachment really was, so I asked the nurses to check each time I fed Jude. They kept telling me conflicting information. "He's not attached properly, you can tell because you can still see some areola. He should have all the areola in his mouth," one nurse told me, ignoring the fact that all women have different sized areolas and that my son was incredibly small with a little mouth.

I kept taking him off my breast and reattaching him, but this constant tug-of-war on my nipples was absolute hell and it wasn't long before my nipples were cracked and swollen.

During my last night in hospital I felt my milk come in, and I was discharged from hospital the next day with hugely swollen breasts and very sore nipples.

That night at home I took a nap and woke up at 7pm shivering uncontrollably with my right breast throbbing painfully. I tried to take a hot shower to warm up but I could barely stand and when I got out of the shower I was freezing. I took some paracetamol and the shivering finally subsided after 2 hours, but I knew something was wrong.

The next day I felt terrible and made my way to the GP. It was Sunday so I had to wait for almost 2 hours as people kept coming in off the street with apparent emergencies that were getting priority over me. Finally I burst into tears and told them I was in pain and I had a 5-day-old baby waiting for me back home. The nurse on duty said "you should have said something, honey," but I failed to understand why the girl with 3-month pregnancy morning sickness was being treated as an emergency when I had been waiting patiently with an actual appointment, I didn't think I needed to say something in those circumstances.

The GP took one look at my red swollen breast and diagnosed mastitis. He prescribed antibiotics and I started the course immediately but it took about 3 days for them to work. In the mean time I continued shivering with fever while trying to breastfeed, but my nipple was so swollen Jude could no longer attach to my right breast. The engorgement of milk was unbearable so I rushed out to buy a breast pump, even though I was sick with pain and fatigue and just wanted to stay in bed.

Pumping the swollen nipple was hell but I had to persevere or risk losing my milk supply, plus I had to get rid of that built up milk and try, try, try to unblock my milk ducts.

Fresh out of hospital with no idea what I was doing I found myself living this torture. All my questions and search for knowledge in hospital had not only given me nothing of any value, but had resulted in me getting very sick and it set me on an early path in the worst possible direction. I wouldn't wish mastitis on anyone, but a new mum fresh out of hospital with no one around to support her ... there couldn't be a worse scenario.

Since then I bought some parenting and baby books that explained things much better and made a lot of sense to me, and showed me that the nurses in hospital were completely wrong in everything they told me. If I had my time over I would do things differently, because I feel like I lost the ability to sit back and enjoy the lovely first week of my son's life, back when he slept all day and his needs were very simple.

Pre Eclampsia and an Emergency Epidural

2008-10-25T19:35:00.000-07:00

9.36pm. Waters broke 5 minutes after my head hit the pillow. I sat up uncertainly as a small trickle escaped. A wave of energy ran through my uterus. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling but I knew what it was. Waddling out to the living room where Jeremy sat trying to fix my computer, I wondered what to do next. “My waters just broke,” I said. Jeremy stood up to hug me and I started to cry as the reality sunk in.

The hospital wanted me to come in right away, but told me not to rush. I was prepared for this news. Both Mum and Nan started their labours with their waters breaking first so I knew it would happen that way and had long since given up the dream of labouring slowly in the peace and solitude of my home.

In the last weeks of my pregnancy I’d developed pre eclampsia. After several days of hospital visits and constant monitoring, the doctors told me that baby needed to come out. I was just waiting for my obstetrician, Dr Cary, to return from school holidays the next day. Facing a medical induction, we raced the clock using every trick in the book (sex, spicy food, acupressure and caster oil) and won. I was feeling very pleased with myself as we drove to hospital, but a bit of a surprise lay waiting for me.

Dr Cary came to see me right away. He gently informed me that I was going to need an epidural. Somewhere in the bottom of my labour bag sat several copies of a birth plan that would never be used. The birth plan had specifically requested no epidural unless needed in an emergency. High blood pressure, it turned out, was such an emergency. The epidural would lower my blood pressure and ensure that the pain of contractions didn’t tip me over the edge of safety. It also meant Dr Cary could pump me full of Syntocin to get the contractions hurtling along like a bullet train and baby could be delivered as quickly as possible.

As it turned out this was the best-case scenario. I had an appointment to see Dr Cary the next day but he told me in hospital that I was in line for a serious chat. If I hadn’t gone into labour on my own and my cervix wasn’t ripe I would have been facing a caesarian. I guess I hadn’t realised the seriousness of my situation.

The anaesthetist arrived and I was systematically attached to a drip, CTG, blood pressure monitor and finally the big needle was stuck in my spine. “Let’s have a dawn baby,” Dr Cary said when he left me after midnight to go home and get some shut eye.

During the night I couldn’t sleep. There was no pain or discomfort, just a steady boredom and a nagging interest in what was happening inside me. Next door I heard blood-curdling screams of another woman in labour. I could feel the baby moving and as the night dragged and my legs became heavier and more numb, I could steadily feel my contractions as short, sharp pains growing closer together.

Two midwives attended to me through the night. I chatted with them and discovered the primary attendant was a trainee. It was apparent by the fact that she failed to find my urethra 5 times while trying to insert the catheter. I quickly gave up any pretense of dignity. After all, I had already soaked my pants through with amniotic fluid when I arrived, but it would have been nice to have a competent midwife by my side through the long night.

As dawn came creeping over the horizon the midwives starting fussing about my contractions which they insisted were getting weaker. During the night they’d upped the Syntocin according to Dr Cary’s schedule so they failed to understand what was happening to my labour. I was frustrated and worried. This was the reason I’d wanted to avoid an epidural. I’d heard the horror stories of 40-hour labours resulting in c-sections and I started to see it happening to me. I wanted to sit up and give gravity a chance. So the midwife raised my bed for me and I was suddenly overcome by nausea. The midwives handed me a sick bag and a wet cloth.

Soon after 6am Dr Cary arrived back on the scene and asked me how I was feeling. “Nauseous,” I said, holding back tears of frustration. “Let’s take a look.” Dr Cary took one look and saw a head. “Well the reason you’re feeling nauseous is because you’re about to have a baby, so let’s get those legs up and push!”

The midwives were shocked. I guess if either one of them had bothered to actually examine me internally, instead of trying to rely entirely on the CTG, they might have known what was happening. They were so useless and were completely unprepared for delivery. They flew into action as Dr Cary gently coaxed them. I shudder to think what would have happened if Dr Cary hadn’t shown up when he did, but he did so I won’t waste time worrying about that.

Three contractions and some well-visualised pushes later, our darling Jude was born. As his head emerged I stopped pushing and sat back to watch in quiet contemplation as his body was delivered on October 7th, 2008 at 6.39am. My little posterior baby had turned himself around. What an angel!

The midwives were pretty astonished by how quickly it happened. Jeremy and I were blissfully happy, we both cried as Jude was placed immediately on my tummy. He was all slippery and floppy and fragile. “Is it a boy?” I asked through tears of joy, but they hadn’t looked between his legs yet. It was soon confirmed what the 19-week ultrasound had shown … the dream that had been Jude Hugo Thomas was now a beautiful, perfect reality.

Jude opened his left eye, then his right eye and started searching my chest for the nearest nipple.

Pre-Eclampsia or Hypertension

2008-10-03T22:08:00.000-07:00

On Thursday I went for my routine 38-week check up. I mentioned to the midwife that I thought baby's movements had been a bit less pronounced. She asked me if I felt it was a significant reduction in movement and I didn't really know how to answer that question (based on what knowledge would I be able to judge what "significant" means in this case?) The midwife suggested a cardiotocograph (CTG) which is just a simple heat-beat monitoring test for the baby.

After that, she measured my blood pressure. This is the only measurement I've had throughout my entire pregnancy. It has always measured around 120/70, but when the midwife checked it had risen to 130/90. She was a bit concerned about it, but I thought it was probably just related to the stress of wondering if my baby needed the CTG or not.

During the CTG that same day, my blood pressure raced up to 160/120. Now I happen to know from previous experience that I am susceptible to stress. My blood pressure has been this high before. I didn't think there was anything to worry about, but they ordered some blood tests.

That afternoon I had a call from the midwife who said my blood tests were ok but I should go to the hospital on Saturday for a follow up. That evening, however, I had another call from the attending obstetrician's office who said there were some concerns about my blood test and asked me to come back the next day (Friday).

Friday (yesterday) I went back for more monitoring. Apparently there was something about uric acid in my blood results. I had my blood pressure re-checked (the midwife said it was high, but I don't know what the measurement was) and then I had another blood test plus a urine test. The results didn't come back that same day, so I had to wait and see what happened at the hospital.

Today is Saturday. I went in to the hospital this morning with my husband by my side really not knowing what was going on. We had another CTG and my blood pressure was checked again. Today it measured 139/94, which is considered pretty high.

I asked some appropriate questions and I now know that I am being monitored for pre-eclampsia. A condition specific to pregnancy where a woman's blood pressure rises for no known reason. It starts in the placenta and can cause oxygen deprivation for the baby. It can be quite serious. At my stage in pregnancy the treatment is to deliver the baby as quickly as possible.

My obstetrician is away on school holidays, but he'll return this week. At the moment I'm not particularly under any specific obstetrician's care (just whoever is on duty). The doctor on duty this weekend didn't want to make a call today, given that he's just been introduced to my paper work (although I haven't met him because he was in theatre when I was there).

This means I have to go back again tomorrow (Sunday) for more blood/urine/blood pressure tests and a CTG and if my blood pressure has gone up or my tests come back any worse I will be induced almost immediately.

This comes as quite a shock. I'm a little bit thrown that I could suddenly be facing the imminent arrival of my baby. It's been 9 months and in just one more week I will reach my due date. My baby has already been considered full-term for 2 weeks, so having my baby now is completely acceptable it's just that I hadn't expected it to be this way.

I had assumed I would go into labour at a time that the baby would choose and it would all be a big surprise and at first I wouldn't even realise I was in labour, or I wouldn't be certain, and it would probably be in the middle of the night ... but now I'm facing a very real chance it could be tomorrow.

I sort of hope I go into labour naturally in the middle of the night and skip all this rigmarole.

Braxton Hicks Contractions

2008-09-30T03:14:00.000-07:00

At some point during pregnancy a woman's body produces hormones that tell the uterus to get into shape and start practising for labour. The resulting contractions are called Braxton Hicks. They're (usually) painless and are felt as a tightening of the entire uterus, so they may be uncomfortable.

I didn't notice them at all until the last 2 weeks or so. My obstetrician asked me if I'd felt them around 30 weeks, I said I hadn't had any. He said I probably had, I just hadn't noticed. As far as practice contractions go, I think my uterus has been a bit laid back.

Until a couple of nights ago. I woke up with a strong, sharp, tight pain in a band across my abdomen. I eased myself out of bed and felt an ache in my lower back. I thought it might be the real deal, I hadn't experienced this before. After emptying my bladder I returned to bed, feeling a bit shaken and sore. Was this it?

The thought occurred to me that once labour begins it won't stop until the baby is born. I'll have no control over it. The pain will come and go and become more intense, and I won't be able to do anything.

As I lay in bed wondering if another contraction would follow I somehow knew that it wasn't actual labour. I took a few deep breaths and reminded myself it was just a strong Braxton Hicks and I then I went back to sleep. They say I'll know when I'm in labour and I believe that's true, but now I'm feeling constantly on edge wondering when it's going to happen ... could be any time.

Where's Baby?

2008-09-24T17:56:00.000-07:00

I had a bit of fun this morning with my camera. This silly series was taken at 37 weeks and 4 days.

Where's my Bump?

Ah, There it is!

Monitoring Fetal Movements

2008-09-22T03:34:00.000-07:00

I am 37 weeks and 1 day pregnant. There isn't long to go now. Officially, my baby is now fully developed and could be born without complication (and quite probably a full head of thick hair). It's a wonderful, beautiful feeling to know that we made it to the end ... but the baby isn't on the verge of falling out just yet, there's quite likely a few weeks to go.

I've been advised by my obstetrician and various books that I should be counting my baby's movements. If I register a decline in activity inside my uterus, I should contact the hospital. My doctor told me there should be 10 movements before morning tea.

This frantic counting from the moment I wake up has me a little bit worried during those times when the baby is asleep. Sometimes I realise I've been a bit preoccupied with other things and I haven't noticed for hours whether the baby has moved or not, and so pass a few tense moments until I feel a telltale wriggle from inside me telling me everything is OK.

I'd really like to be able to relax. Didn't we make it? Haven't we reached our final goal? Why now, in these last few weeks, can't I take it easy? I don't want to be counting movements, it's tedious and stressful and I haven't actually once counted to 10 because I always lose interest around 5. This simply isn't how I want to spend my day or even the first few hours before morning tea.

And yet I'll just take a moment to pause now, pat my belly and check to see what's going on. Baby's sleeping ... should I call the hospital or wait, worried and anxious, until baby moves again?

Vitamin Supplements in Pregnancy

2008-09-18T17:52:00.000-07:00

I have just been taught me a very important lesson. Do not take your health for granted in pregnancy. When a woman grows a baby inside her womb all the mother's nutrition goes to the baby. If there's nothing left for mum at the end of the day then mum misses out. Even someone like me, someone who has always eaten a well-balanced diet and is always in the best of health, can end up basically malnourished after the baby gets all the good stuff.

Last week I started to experience debilitating fatigue. It was a lot more than just feeling tired or not getting enough sleep. I was completely run down. My eyes burned with exhaustion all day and I struggled to function. I became incredibly clumsy and lost awareness of my own space so I was always bumping into things. At first it was just physical, but it rapidly became quite mental as well and I was overwhelmed by stress and emotion.

Just before my last obstetrics appointment I was trying to fill out some paperwork that needed to be signed and was quite straight forward, but it was too much for me and I completely broke down. I was crying uncontrollably into my pillow with my poor husband trying to console me, but not really knowing how to help or why I was so distressed.

He's a wonderful friend, that husband of mine, so he gave me an expanding file folder on which he wrote "Too Overwhelming Folder (even a little bit)" and he said "put anything that you can't cope with in there every day and I'll take of care of it when I get home from work." This cheered me up enough so I could wash my face and go see my doctor.

I told the doctor about the fatigue, and he said it was completely normal in the last stage of pregnancy. What I neglected to tell him was that I never followed his advice and I hadn't been taking the supplements that he recommended about 3 months ago. Back then, I decided not to buy expensive supplements because my blood tests came back perfect and so I arrogantly thought "clearly my diet is good enough and I don't need extra vitamins."

It turns out I was wrong. After seeing my doctor I headed over to the hospital pharmacy to buy the elevit supplements, just in case they would help. I was going to get just 1-month's supply to see me to the end of my pregnancy, but Jeremy reminded me that a breastfeeding woman needs even better nutrition than a pregnant woman, so we spent a bit extra for the 100-day box.

I started taking the supplements that evening and they had the most miraculous impact on my mental and physical health. I went from falling apart one day, to washing the bathroom and vacuuming the house the next.

We're having some friends come and stay on Saturday night, and we're entertaining some more friends on Sunday night and without the proper nutrition in my system I can assure you that I never would have coped with visitors, especially 2 nights in a row, so I am very glad that I (finally) made the right decision and invested ... yes, it was an investment ... in my health.

Pregnancy Pains

2008-09-14T17:03:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I bragged through the first and second trimesters when my pregnancy was going so swimmingly. Then along came the third trimester and the pain.

The pain was concentrated in my hips and pelvis. It became quite unbearable at night when I was trying to sleep. I was advised not to sleep on my back any more, because the weight of a baby on vital arteries is detrimental to a pregnant woman's health, but the agony of lying on my side was too much to handle. I was at my wits end so I went to see the physiotherapist who lives a floor down from my obstetrician.

It became suddenly apparent that Relaxin, a hormone produced during pregnancy to help relax both mind and body in preparation for birth, had caused my hips to slip out of alignment. The physio did a great job of realigning my hips. The pain didn't vanish, but it became tolerable.

Soon afterwards, however, I started experiencing shooting pains in my left buttocks. It would stop me in my tracks for a moment, but the pain would subside and I was able to go about my business in manageable discomfort. I mentioned the pain to my obstetrician and he diagnosed sciatica, a common-enough complaint in pregnancy caused by the baby's weight on the sciatic nerve which runs from the lower back down the bum and right down the back of the leg. He told me to see the physio, but I thought I could tough it out.

Then one Tuesday I was in agony. The literal pain in the bum spread down my thigh and into my calf muscle. I couldn't walk, stand, sit, lie ... hop, skip or jump. Fighting back tears I made another appointment to see the physio and they slipped me in on Thursday. Of course (as always happens when I go to see a doctor) that Thursday I felt tip-top with no pain at all, but I explained what I'd been experiencing.

The physio saw that my hips were out of alignment again so she pummeled me some more and sent me on my way. It didn't really help the sciatica so I figured I'd just have to wait until baby is born to be pain free again.

However, the sciatica remains and I'm sick of the discomfort. I know it's all related to the fact that my baby is sitting on my left-side with its back pressed against my back (which is known as posterior positioning and is "not optimal" according to my obstetrician). I heard that acupuncture could help reposition a baby, as well as fix sciatica, so I went along this morning with my husband to his medical acupuncturist to ask if there was anything that could be done.

To my disappointment, I wasn't given acupuncture, just some more pummeling. The Doctor also recognised my lack of proper alignment and he spent some time pushing my lower back and hips into shape. Then the remedial massage woman came in and gave me a deep-tissue massage in my butt cheek to try and sort out that sciatica.

I'm feeling fine as I write this, but I'll have to wait and see what the long-term benefits of this third round of pain management are for me. There are only 4 more weeks until baby is due, but I would very much enjoy 4 pain-free weeks so I can rest and relax before the baby turns my life upside down.

Pregnancy and Insomnia

2008-09-12T16:41:00.000-07:00

There are a million reasons why I'm not sleeping so well lately. Number 1 contender is probably the mug of raspberry leaf tea I keep drinking right before bed. That's got to account for at least 3 trips to the toilet in the early part of the night.

Then there's the misaligned pelvis and associated hip pain that makes sleeping quite uncomfortable, despite the Snoogle body pillow having helped somewhat in that respect.

On top of physical causes, such as a full bladder and pain, there's the mental aspect as well. I close my eyes and start thinking about everything: baby, pregnancy, labour, husband, house, money, jobs, family ... you name it, it's floating up there in the dark recesses of my mind, emerging when I want to sleep.

Jeremy has been trying to go to bed earlier than adults usually go to bed because he's always tired and he has to work at either 8am or 8:30am. Sometimes he likes to walk to work, so he sets off earlier than he really needs to. This means I'm waking up at the crack of dawn with him. I try to sleep in after he leaves but I get hungry for breakfast and I have to get up, and so begins another day with heavy eyelids and a constant desire to sleep.

I have finished work, but I have a lot of personal projects I want to be working on. I sit down to my computer and my head screams at me "please don't make me think, I'm too tired." My body wants to nap, but I've never been good at taking naps during the day. The only time I can nap is when I'm exhausted to the point of passing out, which often happens when I'm travelling around the world on a limited time frame, but not when I'm sitting around the house doing very little (because I'm too tired to do anything, damn this catch-22).

Everywhere I turn people keep telling me to get lots of rest before the baby comes because after that I'll never sleep again, but in what universe are they living that getting lots of rest at this late stage in pregnancy is actually possible?

Buying a Stroller

2008-09-05T22:23:00.000-07:00

Quite frankly there are too many options available when it comes to buying a stroller. This baby industry thing is out of control. What has 4 wheels, a baby sits in it and you can push it around? Nothing, because nothing in the world of strollers is that simple.

I don't remember the exact date I started researching strollers, but they became something of an obsession. I started not seeing strangers in the street, but I was captivated by what they were pushing their children around in. I did ask a few people what they thought of their strollers, but I soon realised people are too proud to admit any fault in their belongings.

What I wanted was a one-hand-fold, 4-wheel, umbrella-style stroller with a big generous basket underneath, full lay-back ability for a newborn and ideally a means of turning the seat. I dragged Jeremy out one day to look at a bunch of stores to see what was out there, and came home with my tail between my legs. At this point I realised that umbrella strollers were not as big on features (such as generous baskets) as I had hoped.

I had to rethink things a bit, and I was still set on the idea of being able to have baby face me. I became addicted to Product Review Australia (which is the best site in the whole world, as far as I'm concerned) and that turned me off a few strollers I thought looked great in the store but sounded terrible in reality.

I was able to quickly cancel out the need for bits and pieces like cup holders, especially those strollers that included 2 cup holders for the baby. As if one cup (let alone two) is going to sit in a holder in front of a baby for more than 1 second before it's on the ground. There are certainly some extras on strollers that I had no interest in, which should have made things easier but it really didn't.

Finally we found a local store where the shop assistant was keen to give us some advice and show us the ropes. Jeremy and I quickly settled on the Bebe Care Caprice pram /stroller, which looked great and the seat could turn around. It seemed a bit fiddly to take it all apart in order to get it in the boot, and it was pretty heavy, but it came with a free nappy bag so that was a bonus.

Mum and Dad came up from Sydney with the intention of buying us a stroller as a wonderful gift. We took them to the store to show them the Caprice and mum had instant concerns about it. Firstly, she didn't think it was wide enough to accommodate a growing child and secondly it was too thickly padded for the QLD summer that our baby will soon be enduring. Her concerns were valid and I was glad she was there to give me that advice. Being a first time mum I never thought of those things.

But mum and dad were here with a purpose, and we were all keen to get this stroller business over and done with. There was one other stroller in the store that looked good. The Valco Latitude. The only problem was, it was a 3-wheeler and I had been adamant all along about getting one with 4 wheels, because they're generally narrower and I do not want to be one of those pavement-hogging women who thinks they own the streets with those giant tanks they push around.

Also, the seat didn't turn around, but the basket was generous and the stroller folds easily. Also, the wheel base is very narrow and it's incredibly small, light and compact for a 3-wheel stroller. I hadn't ever seen or heard of this stroller before, it was all very sudden so I wanted to give it some thought. We went out for lunch and I looked online to see if there were any reviews, but this stroller is so new there's hardly anything written about it. It's just been released!

It felt like a stab in the dark with my eyes glued closed and my hands tied behind my back, but before the day was out we decided to go ahead and buy the brand new Valco Latitude, which I obviously haven't been able to test with a real baby but Augustus, my teddy bear, went for a ride and seemed to enjoy it (when I was looking down on him through the window in the stroller hood).

I think it was the closest I could get to matching my requirements, because apparently the perfect stroller doesn't exist despite how many choices are available.

Spending the Baby Budget

2008-09-04T16:42:00.000-07:00

After months of planning, scrimping and saving we've just started blowing it all away, finally spending the money we've put aside for baby on the very items we intended to spend it on. With just 6 weeks to spare.

In the past 2 weeks we've bought flat cotton fleece nappies, snappies, pins, newborn clothes, a stroller and 6 of those Bum Genius nappies I mentioned a few months back. We also bought a few items for my hospital bag including maternity pads (boy am I looking forward to using those, not), cheap knickers (which can be thrown away in a fit of disgruntled dismay, if needed), and a post-pregnancy nightie for hospital nights.

I really should write a separate article about the ordeal of buying a stroller, because it was such a convoluted process.

There's still plenty to buy, but anything else would be luxury items rather than essentials, or should I say essential items rather than bare essentials. We didn't want to buy absolutely everything on the off chance that family (particularly those due to visit from the USA) might want to give us a thoughtful gift, and not just some left-over rubbish that we don't really need or want, but something that will be a lovely addition to our baby collection. However, we do want to be ready for when baby comes.

We're not making the assumption that anyone will give us gifts, so we've still budgeted for everything. It's hard though, because you have to think about these things and consider family. Some people like giving stuff, especially grandparents when it comes to newborn babies, so it helps to consider what they may or may not enjoy giving without trying to imply that it's required.

We didn't have a baby shower, partly because I'm just not comfortable asking people for gifts and partly because we live far, far away from family and friends. People kept telling us "don't buy too much, because you'll be given it all as gifts in your baby shower" but we already knew that wasn't going to happen, so we really did have to budget for everything.

Luckily my sister came through with a treasure trove of baby clothes, accessories and a cradle from her 2 little ones, all of which were still quite new and in wonderful condition. That saved us a hell of a lot of money and we couldn't be more grateful.

Living in a small apartment, we don't have a lot of extra space for stuff so we're quite happy keeping it simple. All we really want now is the timely arrival of our healthy, beautiful baby.

Romantic weekend for two

2008-08-16T15:21:00.000-07:00

Phew! Sometimes life just seems to get so busy all of a sudden. It's been a couple of weeks, but back when I was 30-weeks pregnant, Jeremy and I took a much-needed romantic getaway for 3 nights (4 days) to go relax at a resort and enjoy being a 2-person family for as long as it lasts.

We were upgraded by the resort free-of-charge to a King Suite which gave us a large spa bath so we went out and bought strawberries and chocolate, as well as some dealcoholised wine, and really lived it up.During the days we took scenic drives out to the hinterland and explored little towns, poking around shops that would be highly inappropriate (way too small) to accommodate small children or large prams.

I think this was something really important for us to do together, because it marks the end of the chapter in our lives that we've been living together. Now we've had that time to reflect on each other and our relationship (I made a toast in the spa), and we're all set for the arrival of our baby.

Incidentally, that's only 8 weeks from now which seems so soon but it's also 56 days which seems like forever!

Bladder Bouncing

2008-07-27T16:40:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong. I have had quite possibly the most perfect pregnancy possible. No morning sickness, no rounds of insane emotional outbursts, not a single strange food craving (although I did go off pasta for a month in the first trimester). Anyway, there's little to complain about and until the baby started kicking in week 17, I had no particularly strong feelings that I was really pregnant(although the ultrasounds and blood tests certainly supported the myth).

As soon as the baby started kicking, the baby starting kicking down ... hard and constantly, with direct aim on my bladder.

All the reading material suggested that the 2nd trimester would be a time of blissful peace and non-frequent trips to the loo. I, however, found that pesky 2nd trimester to be a pain in the ... well ... you-know-what. To be honest (and a little bit personal) I never felt entirely confident in myself (thank god there were no mishaps). At night I was getting up a good 20 times to visit the toilet and I did always need to go, it wasn't like I sat down on the porcelain and suddenly found it was a false alarm. I was always wondering where all that liquid was coming from, but somehow I managed not to dehydrate completely like a shriveled prune.

It seems that my baby didn't want to get out of my pelvis through my entire 2nd trimester. Most other people find their baby migrates north for winter, but mine just bunkered down and shut the doors and windows ... and kept bouncing on my bladder.

Now finally in my 3rd trimester I've managed 2 nights in a row of sleeping almost through the whole night (waking up just once for the loo, but that I can handle). I am enjoying this reprieve. Baby is still kicking, rolling and punching like crazy and I'm enjoying all those movements. What a nice time we're all having right now. I'm sure Jeremy's enjoying it now that I'm sleeping through the night, too.

Modern Cloth Nappies

2008-07-23T21:31:00.000-07:00

I always insisted I would use cloth nappies. When we started planning our new family, cloth nappies were one of the first things I looked into. I was pleasantly surprised to discover modern cloth nappies which are shaped nappies with elastic leg bands and buttons or velcro to hold them up. I was less pleasantly surprised when I realised that there are a mind-boggling assortment of these nappies to choose from.

I started researching them before I was even pregnant, and to this day I am still researching them. It's like I'm buying a house or ... a spaceship!

The set-up cost of buying these nappies is quite staggering, and while they save literally thousands of dollars in the long term (compared with buying disposable nappies), the initial cost can seem quite shocking, especially when I have so many other baby things to buy.

To help ease the budget, I am going to use some old-style flat nappies. I inherited an unused pack of 12 terries from my mum. This was a packet of nappies she kept from when we were babies. They just needed a bit of a wash and now they're good to go.

However, there are a million extras to consider such as liners, boosters and covers, which have the additional confusing aspects like the difference between microfibre and microfleece as well as the absorption capacities of bamboo and hemp and how badly they smell when they are wet.

After all these long months of research, I think I finally have the lingo, the details and the budget under control. I am making an initial investment in 6 BumGenius V3 one-size nappies because they are the single most raved about modern cloth nappy available. On top of my terry flats I will buy some flannel flats, because they are less bulky for a newborn (apparently).

Now I still need covers for the flats so I'm going to buy some Baby Beehinds PUL and wool covers, and then I'll hit Spotlight for bargain microfleece to use as liners. I've heard a rumour that Kmart sells cheap microfibre towels that would work as extra boosters. I'm still searching for some reasonably priced bamboo boosters, which have proven to be more difficult to find than hemp (but from all reports hemp smells like death in the morning).

Phew! The initial cost alone will be about $315, plus I need a nappy bucket, a wet bag and a nappy bag for going out, and some funky little snappi clips to hold the flat nappies closed (as an alternative to pins). That will cost an additional $78 and believe me, I am going the cheap route with a lot of these items.

When the baby is a couple of months old I will buy some more modern cloth nappies, probably the Australian brand Green Kids (which gets mostly great reviews, but has received some negative attention), or Happy Heinies because my friend recommended them.

The scary thing is, with how much these things cost I really don't want to make a mistake and buy an unreliable brand, but until I test them out on the baby I'm not going to know.

Buying a Maternity Bra

2008-07-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

Bras are very important to women. A good bra costs half a week's salary (almost). I really believe that women are not serviced well when it comes to this vital piece of clothing. They are too expensive and it's impossible to find a bra that fits.

The majority of women are wearing the wrong size. Did you know that the average cup size is now D, but there is a perception that a D cup is huge and most women avoid this size due to their more humble view of their body shape.

In my quest to find a comfortable maternity bra, I went to several stores and had some very interesting fittings that suggested I could wear a cup size ranging from size DD to F, depending on the style or manufacturer of the bra.

This was quite shocking and left me utterly confused. How could I possibly know what size I was supposed to buy? How could I, tiny little me, possibly be a size F?

The biggest challenge, however, was finding the right waist size. I was under the impression that I am a size 10 when it comes to bras, even though I wear a size 8 in clothes. Maternity bras, however, are rarely available in less than a size 12. Many shops do not stock size 10. The department stores didn't have anything smaller than a size 14!!

How many shop assistants tried to insist that a size 12D is the same as a 10DD? It is not the same, otherwise they wouldn't make the different sizes. I am sick to death of shop assistants blatantly lying about this, just to make a sale. Women, never trust a sales person who tells you such twaddle. Walk out of their store and never return!

After a lot of searching, I found 2 bras and bought them online so I could save $20 (including delivery). However, after I received my bras I felt that I had made a mistake and bought a bra that was a tad too large. I returned to one of the stores that had stocked size 10 and had another fitting.

The shock of all shocks came when the store manager informed me I am not a size 10, I am a size 8. She pointed out that I am fastening my bras on the tightest setting, which is not what I am supposed to be doing. The tightest setting is there for when your bra has stretched a bit. It is supposed to help prolong the lifespan of your bra, since they're so expensive to begin with. The store manager actually thought the cup size was too small, but the waist band was too big. When she tightened the band, I suddenly saw what she meant. She was right. I am wearing bras that are both too small and too big. What a conundrum!

I pointed out that there is simply no chance of finding a maternity bra in a size 8 and she agreed, but she said a tailor could adjust a size 10 to fit me, for around $10 - $20. I felt like crying.

How is this acceptable? How is it that a woman can't find a piece of underwear that fits? Who ever heard of having your knickers tailored? This is, surely, the most insane thing I have ever encountered!

I don't mean to get all femme-nazi, but if this problem occurred with men's underwear there would be a national enquiry and there is no way a pregnant man would ever have to deal with such a problem. Having the wrong size bra can be incredibly damaging on a woman's back and her breasts. While my breasts are developing delicate milk ducts and growing exponentially, the very last thing I should be wearing are bras that don't fit or provide adequate support. This is far from acceptable!

And I don't know what to do.

Gestational Diabetes Blood Test

2008-07-20T20:56:00.000-07:00

It was raining this morning. Jeremy took the car to work and I wasn't sure if I would be able to walk to pathology for my blood test, but the sun came out eventually and I set off on my 1/2 hour stroll to the QML lab at the Miami Medical Clinic.

The pathologist on duty took one look at my referral and starting bemoaning my existence. My visit was going to cut into her lunch break. I informed her that I had just walked there for 1/2 an hour and I wasn't going to come back later.

The test required me to drink a high-glucose drink and then sit for an hour before my blood sample could be taken. I told her I was fine with her eating lunch while I was waiting my hour, but she huffed and puffed and told me she couldn't leave me alone.

She proceeded to huff, puff, moan and sigh at me for the next hour and then when the time had passed she rushed off to the collection room, expecting me to find her through my inbuilt GPS. She hurried through the blood samples which pinched and hurt quite a lot. When she had 3 samples she slapped a Band Aid over my vein and kicked me out, while she grabbed her bag and rushed off to lunch. The whole time she barely said 2 words to me.

I don't think it's unreasonable of me to expect professional medical care and nothing less. I found her demeanor and attitude to be quite outrageous. There was no way for me to know when her lunch break was and since appointments are never made for blood tests, it was far from unreasonable of me to turn up at a time that suited me, the patient ... the 6 month pregnant women who walked all the way to the pathology lab only to be treated like garbage.

I wasn't even sure if I was supposed to walk home with all that glucose streaming through my veins, but one thing's for sure ... that woman had no interest in any duty of care.

Please let me introduce myself

2008-07-20T17:54:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I started this blog later than I should have. I am now 28-weeks pregnant, which means there are only 12 weeks left until the young one is due.

My name is Eliza and I have a wonderful, beautiful, devoted husband named Jeremy. We met and got married when we were English teachers in Osaka, Japan. He is originally from the USA but he gave up everything to be with me in Australia. Now we live next to the beach in a city where it is almost always summer.

We have a beautiful life and an outstanding relationship. Sometimes we talk about how we live in a bubble world, where it is just the two of us enjoying this journey through life. When we lived in Japan we built a completely unique life together, far removed from our histories, our families and friends. That is why we feel like we live in a bubble. As far as we're concerned life began when we met ... he was 25 years old and I was 26. Such young dreamers!

Now our bubble is about to burst, or grow ... I'm not sure. In 12 weeks (or there abouts) it won't be the two of us anymore. We can only guess how our lives will change. One thing we're sure of, it's going to be a fabulous ride and we can't wait, we really can't.

Now towards the end of this pregnancy journey, I suddenly find myself with a million thoughts racing through my mind and just yesterday I felt like I might burst open if I didn't find a way to communicate everything that's happening. Hence the blog.