Not had time to update recently, not because I've not wanted to but mainly because I just seem to find 5 mins to myself in a whole day these days. Not that I'd alter that as most of the time that I'm not working I'm spending my time with Bean. He's growing well (last weigh in he was 17lbs 7 oz but as that was 2 weeks ago I estimate he's around 18lbs 12 now. Little chunk)
We've been in to Alderhey for the clinics and so far his TSH levels have come right down to 7.9 which is great but they need to be about 3 I think before they might lower his dose of Thyroxin. Other than that he's a little cutie, smiles loads, cries very little and is learning fast.
I'm back in work full time now which is hard going. He's not sleeping through yet, he's generally waking once and now takes 8oz per feed so I think the next step is weaning him and trying some baby rice and "goo". But as he's not sleeping yet it means I've not had a nights unbroken sleep in a long time which is definitely hard going on the ole body! No al doesn't get up in the night, he's a git for that as he doesn't wake up properly. But revenge will be sweet when he's gotta deal with wet bed and sick when he's older coz I ain't!
I'm enjoying work but I wish I could be off with him. It feels all wrong to leave him and I wish I had the option of maybe working 2 or 3 days a week but I dont at the moment. It's really not fair but bugger all I can do about it unless I win the lottery.
Al's still looking for work but that seems to be impossible unless you want to do sales, 100% commission, working 2pm - 11pm and saturdays and sunday. But he does start college next week so we shall see what happens when that finishes.
Still more to do on the house but the good news is that the bathroom is finally finished (HURRAH) so now we can start in earnest on the living spaces downstairs. This will start moving quickly once we have the wall plastered as we can get on with painting and adding the skirting boards and finally get some damn paper on the walls. I will be very glad to see the back of our neo squat and have wallpaper and a carpet!
First though we have to have a mass tidy up of "stuff" in the middle bedroom (or tip as it's known) and put what we don't need up in to the loft for now. Might make some space for more crap from downstairs but leave us a bit of room to actually be able to decorate... maybe!
I'm fed up now. I feel like this is just dragging and I have no holidays left to even be off and just get stuck in to it which is a pain as I couldn't do much when I was pregnant!
Ah well. I better just get on with it. I need to sort out all the baby stuff Bean doesn't need so that I can pass it on to my sister in law or Gems for their buns ;)
2.9.09
22.7.09
Happy endings
Well 12 weeks in and monster munch is doing well. He's now 6490kg which is about 14lbs 5oz or about 1 stone something. Amazing since he's been on the high does of thyroxin for the last 3 weeks. We found out that his initial test results from the heel prick test showed his levels to be 1547 which is HUGE as in a baby they expect them to be lower than 10. They're pleased with his development though, he's learning to smile, reach for things and to giggle as well as spending hours touching your face and trying to 'talk' it's just amazing.
it seems to have been a rollarcoaster this last 3 months.
After logan's news, and Al being made redundant that was followed by my dad being made part time and my brother losing his job and me facing coming back to work which I've found very difficult. It's getting better but it was all over shadowed by my Grandad being ill. Unfortunately my beloved Grandad decided he's had enough of the world and died on July 2nd. I'm so glad he got to see Logan before he went and he had chance to hear from my brother that he was going to be a great Grandad again next january. He decided though that he was ready to go and I feel good that it was on his terms even though I miss him loads. He's the only Grandad i've ever had, and technically on a genetic term he's my step Grandad. as he married my nan when my mum was 7. He father died in the war a month before she was born and my dad's father died when my dad was 15. But what a man he was, a proud military gent, you'd never think he was 84 and despite having 5 pretty massive strokes in the last 10 years he'd carried on being independant. However I think he knew this time that anything else would rob him of his dignity and as it was his body decided to give up and I know Grandad knew this so decided to slip away.
His grandchildren carried his coffin, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do but it was an honour to do it for him and the ceremony was a simple humanist affair which my Auntie Judy and Auntie Eva led. We had a few laughs during that time especially when my son as the curtains closed round the coffin the last time before he went off for cremation, let out a huge fart shattering the sombre silence.
We all fell about laughing and you know what, Grandad would've LOVED that so much. We all toasted him with a pint of IPA and had a really nice afternoon together - the best shittiest day I've had as my cousin said. I've found it hard to write about until now, even now it makes me upset but I know he's happier there I just wish Logan had been around long enough to see and remember him.
So I've been back in work a week and a half and it's hard going but I've managed to change my working hours til 4 so that I get to go home and spend my evenings with munchy. So far he's been looked after by Al who seems to have enjoyed the father son time but I know he's realised it's not as lazy as he thought it was. Still he has an interview on thursday so we shall see what happens! And then work commences again on the house so all hell might break loose...
ohgod!
it seems to have been a rollarcoaster this last 3 months.
After logan's news, and Al being made redundant that was followed by my dad being made part time and my brother losing his job and me facing coming back to work which I've found very difficult. It's getting better but it was all over shadowed by my Grandad being ill. Unfortunately my beloved Grandad decided he's had enough of the world and died on July 2nd. I'm so glad he got to see Logan before he went and he had chance to hear from my brother that he was going to be a great Grandad again next january. He decided though that he was ready to go and I feel good that it was on his terms even though I miss him loads. He's the only Grandad i've ever had, and technically on a genetic term he's my step Grandad. as he married my nan when my mum was 7. He father died in the war a month before she was born and my dad's father died when my dad was 15. But what a man he was, a proud military gent, you'd never think he was 84 and despite having 5 pretty massive strokes in the last 10 years he'd carried on being independant. However I think he knew this time that anything else would rob him of his dignity and as it was his body decided to give up and I know Grandad knew this so decided to slip away.
His grandchildren carried his coffin, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do but it was an honour to do it for him and the ceremony was a simple humanist affair which my Auntie Judy and Auntie Eva led. We had a few laughs during that time especially when my son as the curtains closed round the coffin the last time before he went off for cremation, let out a huge fart shattering the sombre silence.
We all fell about laughing and you know what, Grandad would've LOVED that so much. We all toasted him with a pint of IPA and had a really nice afternoon together - the best shittiest day I've had as my cousin said. I've found it hard to write about until now, even now it makes me upset but I know he's happier there I just wish Logan had been around long enough to see and remember him.
So I've been back in work a week and a half and it's hard going but I've managed to change my working hours til 4 so that I get to go home and spend my evenings with munchy. So far he's been looked after by Al who seems to have enjoyed the father son time but I know he's realised it's not as lazy as he thought it was. Still he has an interview on thursday so we shall see what happens! And then work commences again on the house so all hell might break loose...
ohgod!
9.6.09
Conflicting, Raging Anger!
I'm now 6 weeks into parenthood and I love it. i think it's the best thing I've ever done. I completely adore my son even if he does have a really good aim when his nappy is off. Every day he's growing and changing. This week he's developing his smile more and more and discovering where his hands are. It's amazing.
The thyroxin levels in his blood now are stable for the moment, so he's now a pink baby and putting on weight like a monster. This is good as he'd still not made his baby weight 2 weeks ago but last week when weighed he was 10lbs 2oz and guzzling for england. We have more trips to the hospital and regular blood tests but things should be good (aside from the rushing about)
I wish I felt happier though. Things seem to be going from bad to worse at the moment.
My grandad is still in hospital. He has a pretty bad stroke this time and I can't see him recovering. We know he knows us but I also know being a proud military man that he'd be absolutely appalled at the condition his body is in and be embarrassed that we see him like that. I think he knows this. I can't help thinking that he's making a choice by refusing food and is waiting to hop off. I think he's had enough and it's so painful as he's the only grandad I've ever had but I know he's hate it if he was "well" but trapped inside his own body like stroke victims are.
My dad's father died when my dad was only 15 so I never knew him. My mums father was killed in an accident in 1944, 2 months before she was born so she never knew him let alone me. Grandad is technically a step grandad but he's my grandad, my mums only dad and I can't imagine him not being here. I'm so so glad he got to see Lo' before he had the stroke. We hope that something might change but I also expect a phone call daily.
Al's still not found any work, there is literally nothing out there at the moment, 200 people apply and they don't even get a response. Al's getting dispondant and I know my friend tom is in the same boat. It's worrying me as we now have the decision to make about the childminder. We can't afford her if Al's out of work but if he finds a job then we're screwed. With all the shite going on in the government about expenses and Kaka being signed to Real Madrid to play football for £50 million pounds it's galling to even imagine that kind of money and what it could do for struggling families.
Then we have my dad who has been made part time, 2 days a week so mums now worried about money. They shouldn't have to, they're pensioners. They've grafted hard their whole lives paying taxes to allow the scum of this country (Nick griffin and the BNP note the worst offenders on this one are NOT immigrants but scum bag white English who refuse to work) who sit about on incapacity benefit when there is nothing wrong with them, playing the system to buy their gucci trackies who have never contributed to society. Now people who actually need it, pensioners, families, single parents etc.. need it they get bugger all. Makes me SO angry.
Then there is my brother who we found out yesterday might be out as well. We are waiting to see if he will be in a job next week or not. Just after finding out the joyful news that they're expecting another child early next year this happens. They're already struggling to run a pub in difficult times and needed bro's job.
To top that off I only have 2 weeks left of maternity leave before I have to go back to work. I HATE this. I'm veering between floods of tears and the drive to make the most of every moment of beans face. The thought of going back is so hard. It's not what I want, I want to look after my child. I want to see him grow and go to school. I want to be there to see his first smile, his first steps, his first laugh and I won't be because I pay taxes for nothing. I get no help when I need it. I can't tell you the guilt, the anger, the pain I feel having to do this. It's so unfair.
I've had to stop breastfeeding so I can go back to work and that's been equally as emotional as I loved doing that. It was special time.
I feel like I'm in a concrete surround with no way out at the moment and I know I'm only one of thousands of people in the same boat during these crunchy times.
It annoys me that daily we have to see David ponsonby - MP of x, y or z come out of his moated house to "represent" the common folk because he feels he "knows" them. But of course he doesn't think that claiming 60k of public money is wrong even though he'd already paid that mortgage off and already receives an over inflated salary? Of course - the "common folk" would understand no?
This whole expenses thing I think has given everyone a mistrust of politicians (more than before) and I have to ask any Labour MP what their game is. Labour always stood for equality for all men, no class system, no rich people without paying. So how can someone saying they're a true Labourite claim ANY expense. It'd be totally against their ethics surely? it's up there with a Labour Peer in the dictionary under Hypocracy!
*angry skippy soapbox over*
The thyroxin levels in his blood now are stable for the moment, so he's now a pink baby and putting on weight like a monster. This is good as he'd still not made his baby weight 2 weeks ago but last week when weighed he was 10lbs 2oz and guzzling for england. We have more trips to the hospital and regular blood tests but things should be good (aside from the rushing about)
I wish I felt happier though. Things seem to be going from bad to worse at the moment.
My grandad is still in hospital. He has a pretty bad stroke this time and I can't see him recovering. We know he knows us but I also know being a proud military man that he'd be absolutely appalled at the condition his body is in and be embarrassed that we see him like that. I think he knows this. I can't help thinking that he's making a choice by refusing food and is waiting to hop off. I think he's had enough and it's so painful as he's the only grandad I've ever had but I know he's hate it if he was "well" but trapped inside his own body like stroke victims are.
My dad's father died when my dad was only 15 so I never knew him. My mums father was killed in an accident in 1944, 2 months before she was born so she never knew him let alone me. Grandad is technically a step grandad but he's my grandad, my mums only dad and I can't imagine him not being here. I'm so so glad he got to see Lo' before he had the stroke. We hope that something might change but I also expect a phone call daily.
Al's still not found any work, there is literally nothing out there at the moment, 200 people apply and they don't even get a response. Al's getting dispondant and I know my friend tom is in the same boat. It's worrying me as we now have the decision to make about the childminder. We can't afford her if Al's out of work but if he finds a job then we're screwed. With all the shite going on in the government about expenses and Kaka being signed to Real Madrid to play football for £50 million pounds it's galling to even imagine that kind of money and what it could do for struggling families.
Then we have my dad who has been made part time, 2 days a week so mums now worried about money. They shouldn't have to, they're pensioners. They've grafted hard their whole lives paying taxes to allow the scum of this country (Nick griffin and the BNP note the worst offenders on this one are NOT immigrants but scum bag white English who refuse to work) who sit about on incapacity benefit when there is nothing wrong with them, playing the system to buy their gucci trackies who have never contributed to society. Now people who actually need it, pensioners, families, single parents etc.. need it they get bugger all. Makes me SO angry.
Then there is my brother who we found out yesterday might be out as well. We are waiting to see if he will be in a job next week or not. Just after finding out the joyful news that they're expecting another child early next year this happens. They're already struggling to run a pub in difficult times and needed bro's job.
To top that off I only have 2 weeks left of maternity leave before I have to go back to work. I HATE this. I'm veering between floods of tears and the drive to make the most of every moment of beans face. The thought of going back is so hard. It's not what I want, I want to look after my child. I want to see him grow and go to school. I want to be there to see his first smile, his first steps, his first laugh and I won't be because I pay taxes for nothing. I get no help when I need it. I can't tell you the guilt, the anger, the pain I feel having to do this. It's so unfair.
I've had to stop breastfeeding so I can go back to work and that's been equally as emotional as I loved doing that. It was special time.
I feel like I'm in a concrete surround with no way out at the moment and I know I'm only one of thousands of people in the same boat during these crunchy times.
It annoys me that daily we have to see David ponsonby - MP of x, y or z come out of his moated house to "represent" the common folk because he feels he "knows" them. But of course he doesn't think that claiming 60k of public money is wrong even though he'd already paid that mortgage off and already receives an over inflated salary? Of course - the "common folk" would understand no?
This whole expenses thing I think has given everyone a mistrust of politicians (more than before) and I have to ask any Labour MP what their game is. Labour always stood for equality for all men, no class system, no rich people without paying. So how can someone saying they're a true Labourite claim ANY expense. It'd be totally against their ethics surely? it's up there with a Labour Peer in the dictionary under Hypocracy!
*angry skippy soapbox over*
17.5.09
until the end of time..
Well 3 weeks in to parenthood and the rollar coaster of emotions never stops. I don't think i've ever seen so much hospital my whole life as the last 3 weeks.
Anyway, we're settling down and I love my little man, he's so amazing I could just watch him for hours. The midwife said he's putting on weight but slower than she'd like and on thursday when she visited she sent us up to Alderhey for some tests as he is still jaundiced.
We went up there and saw a doctor in the amublatory clinic who told me that the heel prick test they'd done on Logan the week before had pinpointed the reason for his prolonged jaundice. The heel prick test is done in the first 2 weeks of life and is a test for 5 diseases, PKU, Cystic Fibrosis, Sickle Cell Anemia, Congenital Hypothyroidism and another one I can't remember. All these are fairly rare things but need quick diagnosis to allow for treatment and normal development or the baby can suffer from metal retardation and "slow" learning.
So, turns out Bean has Congenital Hypothyroidism (underactive thyroid to you and me - very underactive in his case as he's got no thyroid glad at all!) and this is causing the jaundice. If left it could cause him learning difficulties and development problems because the levels of THS in the system are off balance and could hinder growth of all main bodily systems.
BUT although it's rare (1 in 3500 babies in the UK get it each year) it's infinitely treatable by giving Bean thyroxin daily for the rest of his life. The Dr and nurse I saw at Alderhey were AMAZING, told us everything we needed to know and said that if we began treatment now then no one would know any different when he grew up. He said if you put bean next to a "normal" kid only a psychologist armed with fancy tests would be able to determine CH in a person. Everyone else would just see a normal child.
This is a relief, it could have been so much worse which is how I have to look at it. If it's infinitely treatable with one tablet a day as opposed to a needle after every meal or visits to hospital to clear your lungs of fluid then it's fine. We can do that and be fine. It doesn't stop you being alarmed and upset because you can't help thinking it might be somehow your fault. It's not but I guess that's parent guilt. I know Lexy had a similar battle of worry and stress with princi before she was born and I understand now how emotional that must have been.
But, other than that we're doing fine, I'm getting more and more miserable about having to go back to work in a few weeks. I'm going to find that SO difficult and it's so hard as there is not way round it so I'm attempting to make the most of my time off by visiting Mandy and Chloe, going out with bean and just staring at him :)
On that note I best go as I can hear the gremlin noises from next door meaning he's waking up for foods!
Anyway, we're settling down and I love my little man, he's so amazing I could just watch him for hours. The midwife said he's putting on weight but slower than she'd like and on thursday when she visited she sent us up to Alderhey for some tests as he is still jaundiced.
We went up there and saw a doctor in the amublatory clinic who told me that the heel prick test they'd done on Logan the week before had pinpointed the reason for his prolonged jaundice. The heel prick test is done in the first 2 weeks of life and is a test for 5 diseases, PKU, Cystic Fibrosis, Sickle Cell Anemia, Congenital Hypothyroidism and another one I can't remember. All these are fairly rare things but need quick diagnosis to allow for treatment and normal development or the baby can suffer from metal retardation and "slow" learning.
So, turns out Bean has Congenital Hypothyroidism (underactive thyroid to you and me - very underactive in his case as he's got no thyroid glad at all!) and this is causing the jaundice. If left it could cause him learning difficulties and development problems because the levels of THS in the system are off balance and could hinder growth of all main bodily systems.
BUT although it's rare (1 in 3500 babies in the UK get it each year) it's infinitely treatable by giving Bean thyroxin daily for the rest of his life. The Dr and nurse I saw at Alderhey were AMAZING, told us everything we needed to know and said that if we began treatment now then no one would know any different when he grew up. He said if you put bean next to a "normal" kid only a psychologist armed with fancy tests would be able to determine CH in a person. Everyone else would just see a normal child.
This is a relief, it could have been so much worse which is how I have to look at it. If it's infinitely treatable with one tablet a day as opposed to a needle after every meal or visits to hospital to clear your lungs of fluid then it's fine. We can do that and be fine. It doesn't stop you being alarmed and upset because you can't help thinking it might be somehow your fault. It's not but I guess that's parent guilt. I know Lexy had a similar battle of worry and stress with princi before she was born and I understand now how emotional that must have been.
But, other than that we're doing fine, I'm getting more and more miserable about having to go back to work in a few weeks. I'm going to find that SO difficult and it's so hard as there is not way round it so I'm attempting to make the most of my time off by visiting Mandy and Chloe, going out with bean and just staring at him :)
On that note I best go as I can hear the gremlin noises from next door meaning he's waking up for foods!
10.5.09
Hands on a miracle
Well things are getting on here and I've not had time to blog because FINALLY I delivered my little man on monday 27th April.
Logan Alan was born at 13.27pm after a rather eventful labour weighing in at a whopping 9lbs and 15oz and a full head of spikey hair!
I went in to be induced on sunday night, 16 days overdue (by choice as I wanted labour to start naturally) and was given an exam and the first pessary at 11.30. I was 2 cm dilated and all was ok. My Al and I spent the wee small hours dealing with mild back ache, going for walks and generally just passing the time. At 5.30 the midwife gave me another exam and my waters broke but I was still only 4cm dilated and having pains but nothing major.
By 7.30am I was having intense backache pain every 4 mins and they were worried he was back to back but that wasn't the case so they offered me pain relief which I refused - I figured if these were the "starting" contractions I'd need the diamorphine for actual labour. They told me i'd be re-examined at 11.30 and would be put on the drip.
By 9.30am I couldn't stand it anymore and was having the urge to push so I told her and she kinda smiled (used to us expectant mothers fretting I think she thought) and examined me, then ran out of the door to get the midwife as the head was on its way. Another reason to listen to your own instincts as I was right! 10cm dilated and he was on his way.
I was moved to the delivery suite and given gas and air and a crazy midwife who was fab but even after an hour of pushing he refused to turn his head just that small amount that would allow me to deliver him. It was now 11.30 am and I was desperately trying to get him out but the midwife was worried I was exhausted so they whipped me down to theatre to get him out via forceps. Quite scary as they gave me a spinal which made me numb from the boobs down, but also quite an experience as all the theatre staff were laughing and joking (and lovely) and I watched them as they got him out. Being told he was so big made it all make perfect sense as to why I just couldn't push him. He's going to have broad shoulders like his Grandad and Uncle Andy.
However it did mean I have a 3rd degree tear which is a pain in the butt (literally as it's a tear all the way through the nether bits to the back bit which needed stitches ew ew ew!) and I was quite disappointed that I didn't manage to push him out myself but I'm so over the moon with my little man that I couldn't care less about stiches in my nether regions!
I managed to escape hospital on thursday 30th and am now at home, I managed to breast feed in hospital but as my milk came in he could not draw the milk from me and I couldn't express more than a drop by hand or pump it doesn't matter how much I massaged or pummeled my poor mauled boobs. I was disappointed with that and I think it added to the next hurdle we faced come the bank holiday sunday when his biliruben levels were over 300 and he was whooshed into Alderhey to be put under the heat lamps. It's common with big babies and breast fed babies as it takes a while for the system to flush out the extra red blood cells in their bodies but it's still scary. I was exhausted and fed up. But it helped and he's looking less yellow every day.
This last week we have been at home just learning about each other. I cannot describe the feelings I have when I look at him or when he looks at me. It's overwhelming love, fear, panic and adoration rolled into one. Worth every moment so far despite no sleep and all the other bits and bobs. I'm already dreading going back to work as I don't know how I'm going to cope leaving him so young with someone. I feel like I'm going to miss out on so much as he's changing daily.
but finally I feel a little more alive and have begun thinking we should really introduce him to his aunties and uncles now as we're less zombified! When you coming for a cuddle Auntie Gem and Auntie Nich?
Auntie Lexy we shall endeavour to make an incredible journey up to see you when I'm expressing and have myself sorted out so you can have a cuddle :D
xxx
Logan Alan was born at 13.27pm after a rather eventful labour weighing in at a whopping 9lbs and 15oz and a full head of spikey hair!
I went in to be induced on sunday night, 16 days overdue (by choice as I wanted labour to start naturally) and was given an exam and the first pessary at 11.30. I was 2 cm dilated and all was ok. My Al and I spent the wee small hours dealing with mild back ache, going for walks and generally just passing the time. At 5.30 the midwife gave me another exam and my waters broke but I was still only 4cm dilated and having pains but nothing major.
By 7.30am I was having intense backache pain every 4 mins and they were worried he was back to back but that wasn't the case so they offered me pain relief which I refused - I figured if these were the "starting" contractions I'd need the diamorphine for actual labour. They told me i'd be re-examined at 11.30 and would be put on the drip.
By 9.30am I couldn't stand it anymore and was having the urge to push so I told her and she kinda smiled (used to us expectant mothers fretting I think she thought) and examined me, then ran out of the door to get the midwife as the head was on its way. Another reason to listen to your own instincts as I was right! 10cm dilated and he was on his way.
I was moved to the delivery suite and given gas and air and a crazy midwife who was fab but even after an hour of pushing he refused to turn his head just that small amount that would allow me to deliver him. It was now 11.30 am and I was desperately trying to get him out but the midwife was worried I was exhausted so they whipped me down to theatre to get him out via forceps. Quite scary as they gave me a spinal which made me numb from the boobs down, but also quite an experience as all the theatre staff were laughing and joking (and lovely) and I watched them as they got him out. Being told he was so big made it all make perfect sense as to why I just couldn't push him. He's going to have broad shoulders like his Grandad and Uncle Andy.
However it did mean I have a 3rd degree tear which is a pain in the butt (literally as it's a tear all the way through the nether bits to the back bit which needed stitches ew ew ew!) and I was quite disappointed that I didn't manage to push him out myself but I'm so over the moon with my little man that I couldn't care less about stiches in my nether regions!
I managed to escape hospital on thursday 30th and am now at home, I managed to breast feed in hospital but as my milk came in he could not draw the milk from me and I couldn't express more than a drop by hand or pump it doesn't matter how much I massaged or pummeled my poor mauled boobs. I was disappointed with that and I think it added to the next hurdle we faced come the bank holiday sunday when his biliruben levels were over 300 and he was whooshed into Alderhey to be put under the heat lamps. It's common with big babies and breast fed babies as it takes a while for the system to flush out the extra red blood cells in their bodies but it's still scary. I was exhausted and fed up. But it helped and he's looking less yellow every day.
This last week we have been at home just learning about each other. I cannot describe the feelings I have when I look at him or when he looks at me. It's overwhelming love, fear, panic and adoration rolled into one. Worth every moment so far despite no sleep and all the other bits and bobs. I'm already dreading going back to work as I don't know how I'm going to cope leaving him so young with someone. I feel like I'm going to miss out on so much as he's changing daily.
but finally I feel a little more alive and have begun thinking we should really introduce him to his aunties and uncles now as we're less zombified! When you coming for a cuddle Auntie Gem and Auntie Nich?
Auntie Lexy we shall endeavour to make an incredible journey up to see you when I'm expressing and have myself sorted out so you can have a cuddle :D
xxx
22.4.09
Standing on the edge of a precipice
Some good news to being my post with, my best mate and her hubby had their baby daughter last night. I'm really made up for them as they were the couple who lost their son after 5 weeks last year and have been through the emotional mill with it all. She is GORGEOUS and everyone is fine. She was 9lbs and 4oz and has a mop of back hair! Technically, my bean is older than hers but since he's showing a complete reluctance to get his butt out here, he loses in those stakes!
Yeh I'm still waiting for the arrival of the bean. I'm now 11 days over due and had a check up yesterday to see if he had enough fluid in there to be ok to be left a few days or if I'd need an induction. I could also chose induction. I decided to opt for waiting for a few more days to see if i can encourage this little one to move. If he doesn't then I'm going back on friday and it's likely i'll have an induction date and time for sunday or monday. People seem horrified by this decision like the game is to get the baby out as fast as possible or they think it's a fear thing and try and tell me it'll be ok. I am finding this kinda strange coz it doesn't matter how much you tell people it's your choice to do this, they don't seem to hear that bit. I'd prefer to try and get him out on his own, if he won't play ball then we have to use induction but my theory is he's waited this long, a few more days won't make much difference really to the impatient people, however it might just give him time to decide to move.
He's currently in the right position but slightly facing towards the right so I have to try and encourage him to turn just slightly so he fits neatly into the pelvis. So this means spending most of the evening last night on all fours (it could be kinky but at the mo it's more weird) trying to get gravity to help him along that little bit. It's kinda mad though, to think this time next week I will have a new born to look after as whatever happens I'm most likely to have him in the next 5-6 days.
I'm feeling fine at the moment, just uncomfortable and anti social. I've felt very guilty saying to people over the last week or so I don't feel up to visitors. I can't explain it other than I just need the space. Every day I get people texting asking "how i am" which is veiled code for "Have you had the baby yet?" which is awesome but at the same time is REALLY annoying as the people asking are the people most likely to know before anyone else! Makes me think that they must believe I'm a completely evil person who is so secretive that I'd not tell them!
It's hard to be too annoyed as it's nice people care so much but hormones rule my life at the mo!
I had wanted to be able to go into labour and have Al just tell my parents and then once Bean arrives, he has a bunch of people to tell because he'll want to tell the world. It's his job to do that and one he's looking forward to. However as this little one is proving stubborn it looks likely he'll be induced so most people will know when I am going in. I just hope they don't spend the whole time bugging Al and my parents, bombarding them by texts and phone calls from the moment people know it's happening to when he's born asking if there is "any news" coz it could last for anything between an hour to 75 hours. I suspect there are a few people that might do that so I've given them a heads up to turn off their phones heheheh!
It's a weird feeling thinking about labour. I like to know what's what (not to the point of cast iron dictation) but I like to know and this labour thang is something I don't have a clue about. I'm not worried about it as I'm designed to do it so it's more curious than anything else but it's a weird feeling, like when you stand on the side of a pool for the first time and someone says jump. It takes you a while to focus and take the leap as you have no clue what to expect. Kinda exciting as well.
At least Al will get to go to Wembley for the FA Cup final since he missed out on the match on sunday :)
Been finishing off the last few jobs for work as well ready to hand over on friday to the office so I can officially start maternity leave. I think I would possibly have gone stir crazy this last few weeks if I'd not had some work to do. Luckily I'm able to do it coz well, what's strenuous about sitting in front of a computer all day? I'm grateful for the option. Think it'd be different if I already had a child but as I don't I'd be BORED STIFF within 2 days of daytime tv.
Anyway, best get on with sorting out my files and stuff.
If I don't get chance to blog before, I shall see you on the flipside as a new Skip!
Yeh I'm still waiting for the arrival of the bean. I'm now 11 days over due and had a check up yesterday to see if he had enough fluid in there to be ok to be left a few days or if I'd need an induction. I could also chose induction. I decided to opt for waiting for a few more days to see if i can encourage this little one to move. If he doesn't then I'm going back on friday and it's likely i'll have an induction date and time for sunday or monday. People seem horrified by this decision like the game is to get the baby out as fast as possible or they think it's a fear thing and try and tell me it'll be ok. I am finding this kinda strange coz it doesn't matter how much you tell people it's your choice to do this, they don't seem to hear that bit. I'd prefer to try and get him out on his own, if he won't play ball then we have to use induction but my theory is he's waited this long, a few more days won't make much difference really to the impatient people, however it might just give him time to decide to move.
He's currently in the right position but slightly facing towards the right so I have to try and encourage him to turn just slightly so he fits neatly into the pelvis. So this means spending most of the evening last night on all fours (it could be kinky but at the mo it's more weird) trying to get gravity to help him along that little bit. It's kinda mad though, to think this time next week I will have a new born to look after as whatever happens I'm most likely to have him in the next 5-6 days.
I'm feeling fine at the moment, just uncomfortable and anti social. I've felt very guilty saying to people over the last week or so I don't feel up to visitors. I can't explain it other than I just need the space. Every day I get people texting asking "how i am" which is veiled code for "Have you had the baby yet?" which is awesome but at the same time is REALLY annoying as the people asking are the people most likely to know before anyone else! Makes me think that they must believe I'm a completely evil person who is so secretive that I'd not tell them!
It's hard to be too annoyed as it's nice people care so much but hormones rule my life at the mo!
I had wanted to be able to go into labour and have Al just tell my parents and then once Bean arrives, he has a bunch of people to tell because he'll want to tell the world. It's his job to do that and one he's looking forward to. However as this little one is proving stubborn it looks likely he'll be induced so most people will know when I am going in. I just hope they don't spend the whole time bugging Al and my parents, bombarding them by texts and phone calls from the moment people know it's happening to when he's born asking if there is "any news" coz it could last for anything between an hour to 75 hours. I suspect there are a few people that might do that so I've given them a heads up to turn off their phones heheheh!
It's a weird feeling thinking about labour. I like to know what's what (not to the point of cast iron dictation) but I like to know and this labour thang is something I don't have a clue about. I'm not worried about it as I'm designed to do it so it's more curious than anything else but it's a weird feeling, like when you stand on the side of a pool for the first time and someone says jump. It takes you a while to focus and take the leap as you have no clue what to expect. Kinda exciting as well.
At least Al will get to go to Wembley for the FA Cup final since he missed out on the match on sunday :)
Been finishing off the last few jobs for work as well ready to hand over on friday to the office so I can officially start maternity leave. I think I would possibly have gone stir crazy this last few weeks if I'd not had some work to do. Luckily I'm able to do it coz well, what's strenuous about sitting in front of a computer all day? I'm grateful for the option. Think it'd be different if I already had a child but as I don't I'd be BORED STIFF within 2 days of daytime tv.
Anyway, best get on with sorting out my files and stuff.
If I don't get chance to blog before, I shall see you on the flipside as a new Skip!
15.4.09
What does it all mean?
Today is the 20th anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster where 96 Liverpool FC fans were crushed to death in the Leppings Lane end of Hillsboroough Football Stadium in Sheffield. It marked the end of enclosed fencing at football matches, better policing and better fan behaviour and should not be allowed to be forgotten.
I don't know anyone on Merseyside or its immediate surrounding area, or any football fan countrywide who doesn't remember what they were doing when it happened. I was 14 years old. I was watching the match with my brother (a red) keen to see if we'd have another derby final between my blue boys and Liverpool when it began to unfold. I remember clearly feeling numb as I watched the chaos unfold, first wondering if it was crowd trouble before seeing the images of the people trapped in the cages in agony made me realise that it was something far far far more sinister. I remember the day playing out, everything was quiet. No one did anything except watch in horror as the number of dead and injured were pulled out of the crowd and the number ticked up. 10, 20, 50, 80. and eventually after several weeks 96.
I was moved to tears many times seeing the sea of flowers laid at the Kop end of Anfield in the days following the event. People came from everywhere, to mourn the loss of friends, family members and just the insanity of it all. Nothing seemed to move forward, like walking through soup. How could this have happened? Who was to blame? Why did this happen? There are mixed feelings about the answer to all of those questions, my personal opinion is that it doesn't matter, there cannot be one set of people to blame more than any other. It was a tragedy waiting to happen and it happened. We must NEVER allow it to happen again.
The thing that moved me the most about the whole thing was that colour didn't matter. Rivalries (which are mainly in jest as teams divide families into reds and blues) which are long held were put aside. Amongst the red scarves there were the scarves and shirts of my beloved Everton, showing that this wasn't just a tragedy for Liverpool fans alone, but for anyone who knew,worked with, was mates, with, had family who were Liverpool fans. This wasn't about colours, it was about families, sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers who didn't come home.
This is a reason why I do not reduce myself to disparaging the Reds when they're not doing so well. I'd sooner they win over anyone else in the country than not, as long as they don't beat us. Petty sniping and bitching is all very well but when it comes down to it, you insult them, you insult half your own blood. It is a reason I will NEVER buy the Sun newspaper - although to be honest it's not really the kinda rag I'd read anyway and it is the reason why I am proud to be an Evertonian from a family of proud Reds (cept my dad, he's a Man U fan of all things), it is why I'm proud to live in a city where on days that mean so much we are able to become the only city in the world that can be Purple.
3.06pm today, I will remember.
I don't know anyone on Merseyside or its immediate surrounding area, or any football fan countrywide who doesn't remember what they were doing when it happened. I was 14 years old. I was watching the match with my brother (a red) keen to see if we'd have another derby final between my blue boys and Liverpool when it began to unfold. I remember clearly feeling numb as I watched the chaos unfold, first wondering if it was crowd trouble before seeing the images of the people trapped in the cages in agony made me realise that it was something far far far more sinister. I remember the day playing out, everything was quiet. No one did anything except watch in horror as the number of dead and injured were pulled out of the crowd and the number ticked up. 10, 20, 50, 80. and eventually after several weeks 96.
I was moved to tears many times seeing the sea of flowers laid at the Kop end of Anfield in the days following the event. People came from everywhere, to mourn the loss of friends, family members and just the insanity of it all. Nothing seemed to move forward, like walking through soup. How could this have happened? Who was to blame? Why did this happen? There are mixed feelings about the answer to all of those questions, my personal opinion is that it doesn't matter, there cannot be one set of people to blame more than any other. It was a tragedy waiting to happen and it happened. We must NEVER allow it to happen again.
The thing that moved me the most about the whole thing was that colour didn't matter. Rivalries (which are mainly in jest as teams divide families into reds and blues) which are long held were put aside. Amongst the red scarves there were the scarves and shirts of my beloved Everton, showing that this wasn't just a tragedy for Liverpool fans alone, but for anyone who knew,worked with, was mates, with, had family who were Liverpool fans. This wasn't about colours, it was about families, sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers who didn't come home.
This is a reason why I do not reduce myself to disparaging the Reds when they're not doing so well. I'd sooner they win over anyone else in the country than not, as long as they don't beat us. Petty sniping and bitching is all very well but when it comes down to it, you insult them, you insult half your own blood. It is a reason I will NEVER buy the Sun newspaper - although to be honest it's not really the kinda rag I'd read anyway and it is the reason why I am proud to be an Evertonian from a family of proud Reds (cept my dad, he's a Man U fan of all things), it is why I'm proud to live in a city where on days that mean so much we are able to become the only city in the world that can be Purple.
3.06pm today, I will remember.
