I didn't.

There is a lot of that to report.

In 6 more sleeps, Lochlan will be one year old. There is so much I didn’t do but rather than obsess about what I *didn’t* do..…I am happy to report he is alive and kicking, and well - I kept a baby alive for 9 months and on top of that - another 12 - go me!!!

Motherhood has been interesting. Yeah, it changes you. For the better? Fer sureeee. I have learnt tolerance and patience on a level I didn’t even know existed (in regards to him) Everyone else? Not so much. Nothing really matters now. Of course I care about the bigger picture: family, friends, relationships, the threat of Ebola….the list goes on. But mostly.…I don’t sweat the small stuff. I still care what people think (it would be a lie to say otherwise) but it certainly isn’t on the same level as before. My circle is safe and small and I am happy with that.

What didn’t I do? I didn’t have any professional photos taken. I didn’t continue with this blog, documenting every little detail. I didn’t join every baby group going. I didn’t lose the baby weight. I didn’t send out thank you cards and I didn’t start a memory box. I just raised a baby. I stumbled along, getting through each and every single day. I bought a book on baby led weaning, my sister in law sent me a book on sleep training - both are untouched. I didn’t anticipate being so un-orderly. I was the archetypal fmt whilst pregnant. I googled, I researched, I had SPREADSHEETS. 

THEY WERE POINTLESS.

I woke up the Wife in the middle if the night during the third trimester fretting we didn’t own enough hats, vests, cardigans, frozen meals…..

I do realise it’s a rite of passage, as a ftm, to go through all of this…I look back at my pregnant self and have a little snigger. It is NOT as scary as people make out. You will cope with the sleepless nights. You will forgive yourself for not breastfeeding past a certain point. And those days of instragramming your hospital bag are long gone. You are now shuffling around in the dark trying to find a crinkled dry babygro, anything, anything that resembles some kind of ensemble that will keep him dry, warm, quiet.

So: there are no professional photos, no plans to send out holiday cards with him on the front. I have no time for that, and no remorse about it either. I am a SAHM who is constantly learning, growing. I am lucky to have friends who are a few months ahead of me and their advice has been invaluable. I continue to make mistakes. Like my relationship, my journey of motherhood will continue to be a work in progress. He is happy. I am happy. Exhausted, carrying a few extra lbs but this is the best thing I have ever done. 

An update of sorts

Lochlan Michael turned 8 months last week and here I am posting the typical cliche phrase - where has the time gone? I can barely remember the tiny newborn attempting to latch on, the noises, the smell. It's fading quickly but rather than feel sad I am enjoying all the new changes and growth. There is *always* something new to get excited about. 

Lochlan: doesn't sleep through and recently has been waking every 45 mins to an hour. We are exhausted. He won't take a dummy (which secretly I am quite pleased about)

He has no teeth. Not one. Boooo.

He loves to roll back and forth and can exit a room crawling on his back. On his front? Er, no. He can sit unaided but would prefer to spend his day lounging around on the floor. We breastfed but he is now on formula. We are still co sleeping. We babywear (well, mostly the Wife does) and we cloth diaper.

He is my world and I didn't realise it would be so amazing. Apart from the no sleep thing (let's not focus on that) - everything else is perfect. Being the lazy blogger I am here are some photos:

Induction @ 39w..

Induction @ 39 + 1

So, on Tuesday 29th Oct we had the go ahead to go down to the hospital for 10:30 - rather keenly, we were buzzing the ward at 10:15. Got taken into a small room with just two beds and at that point, the other was empty. Sat around for a while and finally, around 12ish, a MW inserted the first pessary. And so we waited. The pessary was removed the next day, 24 hours later, and we were informed it hadn't made any difference. Blah. We were then told that at 6pm, the second one would be inserted. Meanwhile a rather hysterical woman was admitted, who huffed and puffed about having to share a room (er, this is the NHS you fool, not the Hilton) - eventually she was carted off to the labour ward. Hoo-fucking-ray and good riddance.

Spent a ridiculous amount of time on the monitor and made the unfortunate mistake of saying I hadn't been to the loo so they then insisted I put an enema in place and then they weren't happy to put the next pessary in till a few hours later. It got to the point where I had been on the monitor for hours and hours and I began to get VERY worked up. I was dreading the next pessary going in (completely overestimated my pain threshold!) so by the time it got to 9pm, I started to get really rather anxious. The MW on that particular shift wasn't very confident and double checked everything with a consultant and a senior MW - hence the delay. By the time they came to boot The Wife out around 10pm, I had an utter melt down and insisted she stayed. They fought me on this, stating the visiting rules to which I calmly informed them if they had actually inserted the pessary at the 6 hour mark, we would have been within visiting hours. Another MW came to argue this (she actually said 'don't cross the MW) to which I said fine, send The Wife home but we'll insert the next pessary tomorrow when she returns - after all - you've made me wait all day - what's another night? (This doesn't go down well)

In the end I got my way (kapow!) and high on gas and air, it went in around midnight. Back on the monitor for another two hours and then a dreadful nights sleep. 

When The Wife arrived the next morning I was extremely tearful, (probably due to exhaustion as I hadn't slept at all for a 2nd night and I had more monitoring early on) Wasn't allowed to leave the ward as apparently the consultant would be around to check me (they like to administer the next pessary, rather than a MW)

Around 10:30, I was informed the consultant was now available which surprised me as I had prepared myself for another days wait. Got puffing on the gas and air and was rather shocked in my drug induced state to hear him say he could break my waters. Looked away when he brought out the 'hook' - felt instantly calmer after he left, purely because we were finally moving forward. Lay on the bed for an hour or so, as my waters came. 

They then informed us we were being moved to the labour unit around lunchtime, which surprised us, as we have anticipated more waiting around.

Anaesthetist came down to do the epidural - after half an hour of jabbing at me, decided she needed fresh eyes and called down another one. ...

Who didn't want to do it, as I wasn't in active labour at that point. Argued with her for a bit and pointed out the consultant had written an early epidural into my notes. Could feel my anxiety levels rising but the MW then dragged her outside to see the consultant... who told her to just do it, which she did. Had various checks through the night (The Wife stayed around the clock) and didn't dilate very well at all. Was told that my final check would be at 11am on Friday am and if no more than 6cm, it would be a section. I was kinda hopeful at this point because I was asking for an epidural top up every 45 mins towards the end. Because I'd had the mobile epidural, I was able to get up, go to the loo (but that was it, due to the constant monitoring) 

Early Friday am I decided I needed the loo so hopped out of bed and er, dropped dramatically to the floor in a heap - my right leg has completely given way. Apparently it was a rather graceful fall, as falls go! MW called the buzzer and a few MW's and The Wife managed to get me back on the bed, from which I didn't move from till Saturday morning after the section.

Consultant came in, checked me and delivered the news we were expecting. Got taken into theatre - shook the whole time (think the quickness of if all sent me into a little bit of shock) - at 12:34 he was lifted out to the sound of The Wife saying 'Holy shit, it's a baby' (!!) - he was shown to me and then taken away to be cleaned and then brought back to me to be held, whilst they stitched me up. Felt very overwhelmed at this point - none of it seemed real. I was obviously elated that he seemed perfect and healthy but I didn't feel emotional, nor did I cry. When they finally took me into recovery, he was having skin to skin with The Wife. Then they put him on my chest and various people kept coming in and trying to show me how to bf but it was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt completely overwhelmed by the last 4 days, tired and panicked. I felt panicked I didn't feel the instant love/bond everyone talks about. I kept that to myself and quietly lay in the bed doing exactly as I was told (apart from sneaking sips of Sprite which was a total no no, apparently)

It was around 8pm, after all my visitors had gone when I managed to lift him (in agony) out of the cot and on to my chest....where I felt a BOOM and that boom was my heart exploding. I feel teary typing that... now I can't even believe after recovery I was panicked about bonding....

We had a few dreadful nights on the ward - I hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to pick him up out of the crib in the hospital when no one else was around. I was up on the Saturday morning the second they took the catheter out and threw myself into the shower but felt very, very fragile. We battled back and forth with trying to get him to latch but to no avail. Eventually, we had to give him a formula top up due to his glucose levels dropping, which broke my heart. The Wife arrived on the Sunday morning with high hopes of taking us both home. She found me sitting, sobbing, on a blood soaked bed (no one came to change the sheets) - it was also covered in L's sick. I was a mess because the MW had said they wouldn't discharge us until I could prove I had bf twice, unaided. I felt like such a failure and I was pretty broken, after 2 days of induction, 18 hours of labouring and an emcs. I just wanted out. I ended up saying I would formula feed, just to leave. I sat sobbing and looking quite vacant whilst The Wife gave him aptamil. That part is fairly hazy to me now and actually, even the first day or so - the memories are blurry - I think it is very much related to the pain relief and lack of sleep. We finally left in the pm and I began to feel so much better, the minute I was home and in my own surroundings. I swore I'd never be induced again straight after the c section but now life seems to have calmed down, I'd quite happily do it all again...

Mummy and Lochlan 

Lochlan Michael is here!

Lochlan Michael was born last Friday, 1st November, via emergency section, weighing 7lb 4oz.

Birth story to follow...

Full term!

And about bloody time! 

I have been feeling complainy and sorry for myself since 30w and it is progressively getting worse. I realllllly feel for the many people who listen to my complaints and moments of woes (you know who you are!)

I SWORE I wouldn't become *that* person but alas, I have succumbed to the third trimester pity party. I'm in pain with SPD to the point I don't go out unless necessary. Necessary basically means the labour ward recently with reduced movements. That's it. Not even the grocery store! Sob.

I am TIRED. Sleep is pointless. I'm up 5 times a night whether it be a loo trip or a dramatic bout of acid reflux (fun!)

My hips hurt, my pelvis hurts, so trying to get comfy in bed is near impossible. The actual thought of having to go another 5 weeks to 42 sends shivers down my spine. I shan't. They cannot make me. 

So: operation get baby out has begun in earnest. All the usual tricks - I won't go into too much graphic detail. And so now we wait. 

Photos: 

37w exactly!

Bag - finally packed.

My staple breakfast these days - if it doesn't show up glucose in my urine - I probably don't want it. 

She knows.

33w

How far along? 33 weeks

How big is baby? Honeydew melon 

Total weight gain/loss: 2lbs up

Maternity Clothes: Have been buying dresses in autumnal colours 

Have you started to show yet? Yep....pretty apparent I'm knocked up!

Sleep: Up at least 3 times a night - baby is now head down, hooray!

Best moment this week: Watching him move across my tummy.....still amazes me

Miss Anything? Nope

Movement: He is extremely active @ the moment, considering at this stage they are supposedly running out of room...

Food Cravings: Scones with clotted cream and jam, mhhhh

Anything make you queasy or sick? The bloody iron tablets I'm taking for anaemia!

Gender prediction: NA

Symptoms: Have been diagnosed with SPD. Joy.

Major purchases this week?  Nothing!

32 weeks

(well, I will be on Monday)

So, where to start? 

Firstly, we moved house. Today we have been in the new apartment for exactly one week and it is slowlyyyyy starting to feel like home. We still need to buy new furniture - for example the living room has a nice new couch in (which Daisy-the-cat is enjoying scratching the shit out of), a TV and er, that's it. Baby's room is devoid of furniture and The Wife has appointed it her dressing room for the time being. The move was not without stress - and I do NOT recommend moving when in the third trimester. I am extremely tired at the moment and have just start started taking iron supplements as my levels have dropped, which I hear is pretty normal at this stage. It's been frustrating because usually when we move house I pretty much run the show and have everything organised in the first few days - that has literally been impossible. 

Yesterday we has a bit of a scare: no movements all day. Tried not to get to hysterical about it, but if I am honest I started thinking the worst. He is usually extremely active - the day before I was watching him move across my tummy and could almost grab an arm or a leg. To have nothing yesterday put into a  complete  tailspin - The Wife wanted to head straight to triage. I tried to remain calm and suggested we wait till I had eaten dinner but still nothing after that. In desperation I ate a LOT of chocolate and low and behold, he started kicking off. Thankfully this morning he is just as active. Whilst we don't feel quite ready for him, we both wanted him out and with us last night.

Size wise, something doesn't seem right: I'm still the same weight now at 32 weeks as I was the day we found out we were pregnant. But measured 34cm at 30w so knows what is going on?! I've  been tested for gestational diabetes which thankfully, came back clear. Maybe water? Maybe a big baby? Maybe I'm just short!

In more cheery news, I have gone on a bit of a spree and ordered the nursery furniture and wintery maternity clothes. Don't think I'm going to be able to run around in little dresses and flip flops for much longer!

My thoughts these days are very much focused on the birth plan and having the perfect birth (ha) - if anyone feels like sharing theirs, pls do!