Before baby I imagined he'd sleep all day and I'd have loads of time to do lots of fabulous cooking... ummm, turns out not so much. I cook all his meals in bulk and freeze them, so if I have time during the day, I'm usually doing that. At the end of the day, after he goes down, I frequently just don't have the time or the inclination to do much in the kitchen for us. And hubby has requested that I take a bit of pressure off myself and tone it down a bit in the food stakes after he saw me trying to make curry paste when I was dead on my feet one night. So, I've been trying to do stuff that is easy and quick that is more than just a bit of meat and some veg/salad. Pasta is of course a major winner, so that's an easy couple of nights a week knocked off. I've got my trusty scrap books, in which I've printed out, photocopied, written, and stuck in torn out recipes since I moved out of home. And there are some major winners in there. Last night I did Allegra Mcevedy's Lebanese Pizza, which is a total winner. I didn't use pine nuts - almonds instead, and I put some rocket and a dollop of yogurt on top at the end to up the "things that are good for you" factor. Quick, super tasty, sort of healthy, plus... pizza! I'm totally into cooking food that is a healthier version of take away food, like making fish and chips at home with oven chips (from scratch) and pan fried fish, this cheats chicken parma (with a fraction of the oil - I just put the breadcrumbs on top at the end without all the oil and cheese and they brown up nicely), and a couple of other tasty pizza recipes I've got up my sleeve. You get the idea - junk food, but healthier.
And another one worth mentioning for entertaining is Stephanie Alexander's seven hour leg of lamb. Sure, it requires seven hours, which isn't quick by any stretch of the imagination, but once it's in the oven, you can forget about it, aside from being tortured by slow cooking lamb smells pervading your house. And it doesn't matter if you or your guests are running late, because you can take it out of the oven whenever you want it and it's still fall apart, melt away amazing. We've done it pretty much every time we've had people over for lunch since A was born (all of three times). Total winner.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 30, 2012
So do you want to go to the jeweller?
It's no secret that I love jewellery. My standard reply to questions such as "do you want anything from the shop?" is "diamonds!". And it's hilarious every time. I was recently a tres lucky girl, with Jamie asking me to meet him in the city for a coffee (which we do occasionally) because he hadn't seen Arch properly in a few days. When we met, he uttered my dream phrase "so do you want to go to the jeweller?" Ummm, yeeeeeheeessss. I'd been scoping these puppies for a while, since seeing them in the window at Fairfax and Roberts, and I luuuhuuuuve them. I love everything about them. I love the idea of stacking rings, I love the different golds, I love the diamonds, and I love the deco design. They are reasonably substantial, which I think suits my hands, and they are kind of like really fancy knuckle dusters. I'd prefer to be wearing something other than Birkenstocks and shorts when going to a nice jeweller, but hey, whatever. So I ummed and ahhed over them for a while in the shop, felt a bit bad about how much they cost, got over that, and then green lighted the purchase. I've got a rose gold one (fourth wedding anniversary is fruit and flowers traditionally, and rose is a flower, and ROSE gold... get it?!? Jamie says I can rationalise anything), a white gold, and a white gold with baguette diamonds, like in the pic below (I don't have the yellow gold, I got a white gold instead). I have the rose and white gold ones now, and the diamond one is being made. Sigh. L.O.V.E. The reason for the purchase (if we need one), apart from the fact that I'm spoilt, is because we had our little guy this year. Hopefully I can tell him one day that his dad bought me these rings when I had him, and maybe one day his future wife can wear them. Like when I'm dead. She's not getting them before then.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Merry Christmas!
It was a quiet but nice Christmas here at Riley Street. We were going to go away, but after an unsettled weekend with A in Melbourne recently, we decided it would be a lot more relaxing just to stay home. So stay home we did. Especially with the pouring rain here in Sydney. I cooked a pork neck which I talked Hudsons into giving me (after they told me the pork necks had been allocated weeks ago), which was delicious. We took a drive down to the beach in the rain, just for something to do because we were all going a bit stir crazy. We drove past Seans Panorama, where we had a couple of memorable meals when I was really pregnant, and going past just flooded me with memories of waddling in and out and those last few weeks filled with anticipation. I also have stuck my head into the room where they do prenatal yoga at my yoga place - the carpet has a very distinctive (and not unpleasant) smell, and all I have to do is breathe it in and it's just like I'm lying there with Arch kicking me from the inside again. I think about my pregnancy a lot, and what it might be like to be pregnant again, it's such an incredible thing. Especially marvelling at this little person that grew inside me. I still can't get over the fact that his ears and eyelashes and fingernails and ribs (and the rest, you get the picture) grew inside me. No doubt it would be much harder the second time around, having a bebe to chase after and pick up and get down on the ground with, but like all these things that seem impossible with babies, people have being doing it more a very long time, and people just seem to manage.
I've been going to yoga when I can - which is much easier with Jamie around for the break. I really enjoy it, and wish I could get down there more often. Arch is still breastfeeding four times a day, so I still can't be away for long periods of time, and have to time it when I do leave him, but four is better than six, and soon it will be three. He's still loving solids, and I think I'll give him an eating disorder if I'm not careful.
he's eight months now, and the biggest development lately has been sitting. He's so much happier and seems so much more grown up now he can sit and play with things. He's doing a lot of babbling of ma ma and da da - he has no idea what it means, but it's still adorable when he does it.
I'm going to go back to work three days a week when he is one, which I have really mixed feelings about. I think I'll be a happier person for engagement with the adult world, but oh god, the thought of leaving him... As soon as the new year ticks over I know I'll feel like I'm on countdown until the end of April, and I need to not do that. But it will be hard.
I've hurt my knee running, and it's taking ages to get better, which is driving me up the wall, so I've found this great gym to go to which specifically caters for pregnant women and women with children - there is almost as much play area as there is gym area, and they do small group training. So you turn up at some stage in a three hour time block, stay for an hour, and there are usually only a couple of other people there. The owner puts you through the session she's planed for the day, while the babies/kids play on one side of the room. It really is ideal. And something where I don't have to rely on other people to look after Arch, which means it's up to me when I exercise (and Archie's nap schedule).
Some photos to finish off:
I've been going to yoga when I can - which is much easier with Jamie around for the break. I really enjoy it, and wish I could get down there more often. Arch is still breastfeeding four times a day, so I still can't be away for long periods of time, and have to time it when I do leave him, but four is better than six, and soon it will be three. He's still loving solids, and I think I'll give him an eating disorder if I'm not careful.
he's eight months now, and the biggest development lately has been sitting. He's so much happier and seems so much more grown up now he can sit and play with things. He's doing a lot of babbling of ma ma and da da - he has no idea what it means, but it's still adorable when he does it.
I'm going to go back to work three days a week when he is one, which I have really mixed feelings about. I think I'll be a happier person for engagement with the adult world, but oh god, the thought of leaving him... As soon as the new year ticks over I know I'll feel like I'm on countdown until the end of April, and I need to not do that. But it will be hard.
I've hurt my knee running, and it's taking ages to get better, which is driving me up the wall, so I've found this great gym to go to which specifically caters for pregnant women and women with children - there is almost as much play area as there is gym area, and they do small group training. So you turn up at some stage in a three hour time block, stay for an hour, and there are usually only a couple of other people there. The owner puts you through the session she's planed for the day, while the babies/kids play on one side of the room. It really is ideal. And something where I don't have to rely on other people to look after Arch, which means it's up to me when I exercise (and Archie's nap schedule).
Some photos to finish off:
Monday, October 22, 2012
Six months this week!
I know I say it pretty much every time I put up a post, but time has just been flying. All of a sudden, Arch is nearly six months old, work wants to know when I'll be back, we have started solids, and those (usually wet) little hands are all over the place, pulling and groping at anything and everything in sight.
He's such a smiley little baby, he will give anyone a cheeky grin. His motor skills are really developing a lot, like amazingly, and absolutely everything goes in his mouth.
I get a little bit sad putting him down to sleep at the end of most days, because that's another day over that we'll never get back. Not that it's always beautiful and easy, but I know this time when he's so small will be so fleeting and I'll be back at work before I know it (part time), and long for the days when I could hug my tiny boy. I must kiss him several hundred times a day. He usually ends up in fits of giggles, which is only an encouragement for me to do it more.
We took him on his first plane ride last weekend - to Perth, for a wedding. I was totally worked up about taking him away, flying, and being in a different time zone, but you know, it all worked out. It was fine. He was a bit clingy for the first few days back home, but he did so well, and it was a good lesson for me to learn.
He is really proud of himself when he sits on his own on the couch:
This weekend Grandpa Frank is going to be in town. Grandpa Frank is known for the lasting impression he leaves on children, so I'm very curious to see how Archie reacts to him. Nanna Annie is following in a few weeks, and then I think I'll be lucky to get a hold of Arch at all as she whisks him away at every possible opportunity. I've thought a lot about my mum since becoming a mum, and imagining her doing all the stuff with me that I'm doing with Arch. I hope that when Arch is in his 30s I'm a regular fixture in his life, and he comes over for dinner with his partner, and we hang out and drink wine and catch up for lunch, and he likes me, and asks for my advice on things, and that I'm cool and slightly eccentric.
The little bear is going to wake up any second now, so I'll end it here.
Surry Hills
Surry Hills is undoubtedly one of those places in Sydney that people just want to be. Which is why it's so awesome (restaurants, shops, bars, cafes, parks), and sometimes not so awesome (parking, hipsters, no bookings at restaurants, neighbours who have terrible taste in music and very loud speakers). I prefer mid week Surry Hills when it seems to be mostly locals around, rather than weekend Surry Hills when everyone floods in from everywhere. Especially now, I spend a lot of time walking around outside, and most times when I'm out, I bump into another mum with a pram that I know (the mum, not the pram, although I am pretty good at identifying prams too) and have a chat, or just start talking to someone in the park. It's nice, and there is this whole baby community of people around, and everyone just reaches out to each other. But of course that isn't unique to Surry Hills. I'm really grateful to live somewhere where I barely have to use a car to do what I want, and there really isn't much that I could want to do, buy or eat that isn't within walking distance.
But it isn't just me who thinks SH is awesome! Recently, The Hills were named as one of the 50 most stylish suburbs in the world. It was the only suburb in Australia to make the list (I've never heard of the website that made the list, but who cares! Surry Hills is on it and that's where I LIVE).
Read about it here
But it isn't just me who thinks SH is awesome! Recently, The Hills were named as one of the 50 most stylish suburbs in the world. It was the only suburb in Australia to make the list (I've never heard of the website that made the list, but who cares! Surry Hills is on it and that's where I LIVE).
Read about it here
Thursday, September 20, 2012
I just found this in my draft post folder...
I must have written it intending to post it when I got past 12 weeks and then totally forgot.
I still remember feeling like this so clearly. It also seems like a lifetime ago. And what I didn't know then, but knew would somehow fall in place is that I'd end up with my little Arch, and everything would be ok. But it's a pretty terrifying road getting there.
Last week I found out I'm pregnant. It still feels weird to write that. Like I'm a fraudster in the mystical world of pregnant ladies. It shouldn't have been at all surprising, but it still surprised the crap out of me. There were no serenely shed tears tears of joy, or thoughtfully wrapped pregnancy tests presented in a romantic way, just a muttered "holy shit" from me, and a husband trying to force me to drink more water so I could do another pee test.
I still remember feeling like this so clearly. It also seems like a lifetime ago. And what I didn't know then, but knew would somehow fall in place is that I'd end up with my little Arch, and everything would be ok. But it's a pretty terrifying road getting there.
Last week I found out I'm pregnant. It still feels weird to write that. Like I'm a fraudster in the mystical world of pregnant ladies. It shouldn't have been at all surprising, but it still surprised the crap out of me. There were no serenely shed tears tears of joy, or thoughtfully wrapped pregnancy tests presented in a romantic way, just a muttered "holy shit" from me, and a husband trying to force me to drink more water so I could do another pee test.
It felt really surreal. Everything else was the same - we were in our house, on our couch, watching our TV, doing what we always do, but I am pregnant.
The signs were there - the most clear of which being that I didn't feel like a second glass of pink Taltarni last Friday night. I don't know that has EVER happened before. Naturally, I went on oblivious in to the weekend - off to have my hair dyed, eat sashimi, and drink whisky sours (which contain the very baby unfriendly combination of both raw egg yolk and whisky). Really, that happened.
God, there is SO much I need to know. And I have to make a decision really soon, like within weeks, about where and how I want to give birth. Private, public, private patient in public hospital, birth centre etc.
I'm feeling cautious about it all because it's so early, but I also feel like I have a little bond already with the. But already I can't get enough of rubbing my belly (which is absolutely no bigger than it has ever been) I am TERRIBLE at keeping secrets though.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Where does the time go?
Seriously - where have the last two months gone? I feel like I'm an ostrich just pulling my head out of the sand and re-engaging with the world a bit. I used to read the newspapers every day and watch the news every night - now major stuff happens and I'm all "oh, really? When did that happen?" And then I start telling people about things that I think are obscure, when in fact they have been front page news for a week. Thank god for the ipad and iphone - the one media outlet I haven't been neglecting is the Daily Mail, so I'm up to speed on celebrity pregnancies, weight loss/gain and other assorted scandals that are somehow more important for me to know about than world events. What did people do when they were feeding before these gadgets?? Or just in general?
So, Archie is great - really smiley and chatty. He's sleeping in his own room now, which was hard for the first night (lots of tears from me, none from him - he's over me already), but it is actually so nice to have our room back and to be able to turn on the light when going to bed and not have to tiptoe around.
I did a 9k run on the weekend, which I have been training for since I got the clear to run again 6 weeks post baby. It was a bit of a battle, especially the last 2k, and I did it way slower than I did two years ago, but hey, I did it, and I did kind of just have a baby, so you know, snaps for me.
I feel like Arch and I have really found our groove with each other lately.
Cute pic from fathers day:
So, Archie is great - really smiley and chatty. He's sleeping in his own room now, which was hard for the first night (lots of tears from me, none from him - he's over me already), but it is actually so nice to have our room back and to be able to turn on the light when going to bed and not have to tiptoe around.
I did a 9k run on the weekend, which I have been training for since I got the clear to run again 6 weeks post baby. It was a bit of a battle, especially the last 2k, and I did it way slower than I did two years ago, but hey, I did it, and I did kind of just have a baby, so you know, snaps for me.
I feel like Arch and I have really found our groove with each other lately.
Cute pic from fathers day:
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Archie loses it laughing
Arch started laughing a little while ago, but the laughs were few and far between. Sometimes though, when he's in the right mood, he thinks everything is HYSTERICAL. As per below. This cracks me up so much!!
We went and visited a friend with her new baby (welcome to the world Patrick!) on Monday, and Arch looked HUGE next to the newborn. I can't believe how much he has grown in less than four months, and that he was ever that small!! But we are super excited to have another friend to hang out with, and congratulations to Patrick's mum and dad.
We went and visited a friend with her new baby (welcome to the world Patrick!) on Monday, and Arch looked HUGE next to the newborn. I can't believe how much he has grown in less than four months, and that he was ever that small!! But we are super excited to have another friend to hang out with, and congratulations to Patrick's mum and dad.
Friday, July 27, 2012
3 months old!
The little guy is three months old today, and has gone up another clothing and nappy size. I bought him a bunch of new clothes yesterday, and he's looking super cute today. My favourite item of clothing that I got was a black pair of leggings with ruffles on the bum, but Jamie was adamant they were for girls. I wasn't sure if I had entirely lost perspective because I love the ruffle bum so much, so I asked my two most trusted advisers on such things, Em and Drew, and both agreed that ruffle bums were indeed for girls. I'm devastated, and the ruffle bums are going back. Sigh. photos from week 6 to week 12 here. He is getting really into his hands right now and starting to swat at things. He's also really into me, which, of course, is adorable. I get the best smiles and coos every day. I try to get it on camera, but naturally, when I stick this big black thing in his face he's totally intrigued by it and just stares and stops being chatty.
We've started a mums and bubs yoga course, which is nice - the babies just lie on blankets next to your yoga mat and it's really cute. Of course, half the time is spent settling, or feeding, or making faces, but it's good to have something to get me out of the house and meet other new mums.
I'm feeling more and more confident in taking him out and fitting in what I need to do rather than freaking out that he's going to wake up/ cry/ needs a feed. We are really so lucky with the baby we have - he's really easy going, and is sleeping like a dream. The other night he slept for nearly 12 hours, fed, and then went back to sleep for another two hours. Amazing. He's down to one feed a night, and I don't mind it at all. I'd be really sad if he dropped it actually. As totally mental as it sounds, I like getting up to see him in the middle of the night, all sleepy and kittenish, and snuggling down just us in the chair in his room with the occasional drunk wandering past outside, car doors closing, or rain coming down on the roof. I know when he does drop that feed, I'll miss it.
We did a weigh in and measure this week - he's 6.6 kilos (75th percentile) and 64 cm long (90th percentile). I was very proud. It's crazy to think he's grown so much, but I guess that's what babies do!
Smiley baby!
Feeding baby. He curls and uncurls his hands when he's feeding, and sometimes plays with my top or thumps me.
Sleeping in the carrier with dad... awww
We've started a mums and bubs yoga course, which is nice - the babies just lie on blankets next to your yoga mat and it's really cute. Of course, half the time is spent settling, or feeding, or making faces, but it's good to have something to get me out of the house and meet other new mums.
I'm feeling more and more confident in taking him out and fitting in what I need to do rather than freaking out that he's going to wake up/ cry/ needs a feed. We are really so lucky with the baby we have - he's really easy going, and is sleeping like a dream. The other night he slept for nearly 12 hours, fed, and then went back to sleep for another two hours. Amazing. He's down to one feed a night, and I don't mind it at all. I'd be really sad if he dropped it actually. As totally mental as it sounds, I like getting up to see him in the middle of the night, all sleepy and kittenish, and snuggling down just us in the chair in his room with the occasional drunk wandering past outside, car doors closing, or rain coming down on the roof. I know when he does drop that feed, I'll miss it.
We did a weigh in and measure this week - he's 6.6 kilos (75th percentile) and 64 cm long (90th percentile). I was very proud. It's crazy to think he's grown so much, but I guess that's what babies do!
Smiley baby!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Archie's birth story
I know for some people this might be a bit TMI, but hey, I'm not making you read it, and I know I became fascinated with birth stories towards the end of my pregnancy, and there are so many horror stories out there, that having something positive to say is a good thing.
I went into labour at about 7.30 pm the day after Anzac day. I was putting something in the dishwasher and felt a mild contraction and didn't really think much of it. I'd read so much about birth and labour and the fact that so often women freak out at nothing and how common Braxton Hicks contractions are that I didn't really think this was going to be *it*. They came and went every ten or twenty minutes or so and weren't that bad, so I was very calm about it. Until I got a phone call from Jamie saying he had missed his flight home from Melbourne. I didn't tell him what was going on because I knew he'd freak out, and planes leave Melbourne every half hour or so, so I knew he'd be home soon. I watched some TV and texted my back up birth partner (Em) to be on standby, but that it was probably nothing... Jamie got home about 9pm, and I was in bed reading in my pillow fortress. I still wasn't convinced I was in labour, even though things were coming on stronger. It was really manageable, but I couldn't sleep and just lay there squeezing Jamie's hand with every contraction. When the pain started getting more intense - maybe about 2am, I conceded that maybe I was in labour and we were going to have a baby... again, having read so much about how women turn up way too early to hospital, I was determined to stay at home for as long as I could. I hopped in the shower for a while, which was really great. After that, we put on the tens machine I'd hired, and I thought it was really good. Maybe just because it was a distraction and there was a button for me to push, but at least the buzzing sensation on my back took away from the feeling at the front of my stomach. I'd definitely recommend these to anyone thinking about it. We called the hospital, and they had a chat to me, and given I could talk through a contraction and was still pretty calm, they said I could stay home for a while yet. Things stepped up a notch about 5am, and I was on my knees, leaning over the side of the bed with each contraction, pushing my little button. We called the hospital again, and I started crying and couldn't talk through the pain, so they said to come in. It took a while for me to get up and get downstairs and make sure Jamie had my (five - I'm not kidding) bags. He pulled the car up out the front and the sun was just coming up. I remember walking out the door and thinking that when we walk back in it will be with a baby... incredible. Sitting up in the car was pretty uncomfortable, and any bumps, acceleration, braking (pretty much anything) unleashed a torrent of abuse and swearing from me. It took me ages to get out of the car, into the lift and into the delivery suite. Lots of stopping and leaning up against the wall, swearing, enquiring after my bags (yes, he did have them all, yes, he would go back and get them from the car, yes, my hospital admission card was in my handbag, and yes, he had my handbag). When we walked in they took one look at me and asked if I was Marsha. Then straight into a room and onto a monitor for a while. They examined me and I was 4cm - I was kind of a bit disappointed by that given I'd been going for about 12 hours by that stage, and things were becoming pretty tough. But still, that's nearly half way, so it was something. I had to stay on my back while they monitored the baby for half an hour, but then I could get up. I tried sitting on a swiss ball and doing all the things I had planned to, but it really was just too much for me. My contractions were not backing off - they were coming in waves, but they never eased off in between, so I was fighting the whole time. This was really unexpected for me, as the common thing is for the contractions to completely back off at the end of each one and give you a chance to recover. But apparently this can happen - it's common with induced labours. It was seriously punishing me - no relief at all, but I was in the zone. I was on my knees leaning over the bed again and the midwife suggested I get in the bath. I had to be convinced, because I was becoming quite attached to my tens machine and my little button, and you can't take the tens machine in the bath for obvious reasons (water + electricity = bad), but I was convinced. My doula arrived to help with the convincing process, and her and Jamie helped me to the shower while the bath was filling up. I got in the bath for the next few hours, had the lights out, and just worked through the contractions. My doula was amazing, and so was Jamie. At one stage the obstetrician came down to say hi and they checked every two or so hours to see how far along I was. I wasn't really talking at this stage other than "water". I was getting pretty vocal with the peak of the contractions (I later asked if the suites are reasonably soundproof - they aren't! How terrifying for anyone coming in!!) and just really let go. When I got to 8cm, about 11am, the midwife came and said something like this: "the anesthetist has given everyone else on the ward an epidural, and he rides his bike in here and lives a reasonable distance away, and given you are 8cm, if you want it, he won't get back here in time, so if you want it, you have to get it now...". She said the pain wouldn't get worse, but that it would continue for about another three hours before I could start pushing. I didn't need an epidural right at that moment, but the thought of three more hours of the same level of pain sealed the deal for me. I went for it. As I said at the time, I didn't need that medal. I tried, and I was really proud of how far I got, but I was pretty close to my limit of what I could handle before losing control. It was really getting to be too much. I was pretty shut down at this stage - not talking, eyes closed, pretty primitive noises coming from me. It took me about 15 minutes to get out of the back and onto my bed about 3 metres away. The anesthetist was as charming and empathetic as a doorknob, but worked his magic, and then sweet, sweet relief in about five minutes time. I have honestly never felt such a feeling of relief, it was amazing. I came out of the zone, and was chatting, eating biscuits, having cups of tea, and cracking gags in no time. The epidural was really different from what I expected. I could still move my legs, I could still feel people touching my legs, I was totally mentally present, and the only thing that was really different was that the vice on my belly had let up. So I chatted away the last two cms of dilation before they told me it was time to push. I thought all the hard work was over once I had the epidural and that I was on the downhill track. Not so much. Pushing was really difficult, especially since I couldn't feel anything. So I asked them to dial back the epidural which brought back the pain. I pushed for over an hour and then the midwife said she had to get the obstetrician - I knew that meant intervention, so I tried *really* hard to push, but I just wasn't getting very far. The obstetrician came down and I had my own little cheer squad encouraging me with every push, but it was slow going. I pushed for another half hour or so, and he said that the baby was in the birth canal for too long and had to come out, so he wanted to use a vacuum. Not what I wanted, but baby had to come out, so we tried that. It was slow going. The vacuum came off a couple of times, and I tried so hard, but he just wouldn't come out. Eventually, the obstetrician said that we would give it one last go with the vacuum, and then he had to use forceps because the baby really needed to come out now because his heart rate was dropping. At this stage I was totally exhausted, shattered like I have never been in my life, but I knew he wasn't far off, and I really, really didn't want a forcep delivery (and accompanying episiotomy). An ominously large and metal sounding package wrapped in blue fabric was quietly put next to the obstetrician (forceps!! eeek), and I was given one last push. I just told the doctor to do whatever he had to do to get the baby out. The doctor put ALL his bodyweight into pulling Arch out and I used all the energy I had left. He was pouring with sweat by then too, and I could tell by everyone's faces that they were getting concerned. And he came out. If I thought the epidural was a relief, this quickly replaced that moment as by far the strongest feeling of relief I have ever felt. It was like running into a wall of relief - so total and overwhelming. He was born at 5:12 pm. I can't really remember much at this stage, but I know they put him on my chest right away. I remember his smell really clearly - so earthy and salty and wet. They took him away pretty quickly because a paediatrician had to look over him (which they do with all assisted deliveries). He had a huge bruise and lump on his head from the vacuum, and he was so hard to get out because he had a very big head... They brought him back, and we just held him and stared at him. You are pregnant for so long, but nothing prepares you for the fact you now have a baby - OMG, a baby!!!
He fed, and Jamie held him, and the obstetrician finished up his business. I had one internal stitch, which the obstetrician said was an amazing outcome for an assisted delivery. The midwife that works with him later told me he was really, really nervous about not doing an episiotomy, and that it was a good lesson for him to learn, but I'm sure the outcome could just as easily have been bad as it was good. But I'm glad I stuck by my guns.
Gradually, everyone left and it was just us, our little family. I was pretty keen to get him feeding well, and he was on and off, in between us just looking at him in incredulity. WE DID THAT.
So things didn't go according to plan, but I was so proud and happy about Archie's birth. I felt totally supported and in control during the whole thing - even towards the end, the obstetrician was listening to what I wanted and everyone there was so amazing. We had a beautiful midwife, my doula was fantastic, the obstetrician incredible, and of course Jamie was holding my hand through every minute of it and being the best support possible.
I didn't feel the instant smack of love that a lot of people talk about, it took me a little while to bond with him and want to kiss his belly all day long, but I'm definitely there. I love this little boy so deeply and intensely. He's transformed my life, and made me calm in a way I have never been before. He's also wracked me with anxiety and guilt, but wow, what a journey it's been already. I love being his mum, Jamie's wife, and having a family. I know the future is going to be amazing and I will never be the same because of this little boy. It's such a privilege to be responsible for bringing up a human being, and trying to give him the best guidance we can to be a good person. Archie, my darling, welcome to the world. We love you very much and adore being your parents. I hope we can do a good job of it. We will always try our best. Now lets have some fun.
I went into labour at about 7.30 pm the day after Anzac day. I was putting something in the dishwasher and felt a mild contraction and didn't really think much of it. I'd read so much about birth and labour and the fact that so often women freak out at nothing and how common Braxton Hicks contractions are that I didn't really think this was going to be *it*. They came and went every ten or twenty minutes or so and weren't that bad, so I was very calm about it. Until I got a phone call from Jamie saying he had missed his flight home from Melbourne. I didn't tell him what was going on because I knew he'd freak out, and planes leave Melbourne every half hour or so, so I knew he'd be home soon. I watched some TV and texted my back up birth partner (Em) to be on standby, but that it was probably nothing... Jamie got home about 9pm, and I was in bed reading in my pillow fortress. I still wasn't convinced I was in labour, even though things were coming on stronger. It was really manageable, but I couldn't sleep and just lay there squeezing Jamie's hand with every contraction. When the pain started getting more intense - maybe about 2am, I conceded that maybe I was in labour and we were going to have a baby... again, having read so much about how women turn up way too early to hospital, I was determined to stay at home for as long as I could. I hopped in the shower for a while, which was really great. After that, we put on the tens machine I'd hired, and I thought it was really good. Maybe just because it was a distraction and there was a button for me to push, but at least the buzzing sensation on my back took away from the feeling at the front of my stomach. I'd definitely recommend these to anyone thinking about it. We called the hospital, and they had a chat to me, and given I could talk through a contraction and was still pretty calm, they said I could stay home for a while yet. Things stepped up a notch about 5am, and I was on my knees, leaning over the side of the bed with each contraction, pushing my little button. We called the hospital again, and I started crying and couldn't talk through the pain, so they said to come in. It took a while for me to get up and get downstairs and make sure Jamie had my (five - I'm not kidding) bags. He pulled the car up out the front and the sun was just coming up. I remember walking out the door and thinking that when we walk back in it will be with a baby... incredible. Sitting up in the car was pretty uncomfortable, and any bumps, acceleration, braking (pretty much anything) unleashed a torrent of abuse and swearing from me. It took me ages to get out of the car, into the lift and into the delivery suite. Lots of stopping and leaning up against the wall, swearing, enquiring after my bags (yes, he did have them all, yes, he would go back and get them from the car, yes, my hospital admission card was in my handbag, and yes, he had my handbag). When we walked in they took one look at me and asked if I was Marsha. Then straight into a room and onto a monitor for a while. They examined me and I was 4cm - I was kind of a bit disappointed by that given I'd been going for about 12 hours by that stage, and things were becoming pretty tough. But still, that's nearly half way, so it was something. I had to stay on my back while they monitored the baby for half an hour, but then I could get up. I tried sitting on a swiss ball and doing all the things I had planned to, but it really was just too much for me. My contractions were not backing off - they were coming in waves, but they never eased off in between, so I was fighting the whole time. This was really unexpected for me, as the common thing is for the contractions to completely back off at the end of each one and give you a chance to recover. But apparently this can happen - it's common with induced labours. It was seriously punishing me - no relief at all, but I was in the zone. I was on my knees leaning over the bed again and the midwife suggested I get in the bath. I had to be convinced, because I was becoming quite attached to my tens machine and my little button, and you can't take the tens machine in the bath for obvious reasons (water + electricity = bad), but I was convinced. My doula arrived to help with the convincing process, and her and Jamie helped me to the shower while the bath was filling up. I got in the bath for the next few hours, had the lights out, and just worked through the contractions. My doula was amazing, and so was Jamie. At one stage the obstetrician came down to say hi and they checked every two or so hours to see how far along I was. I wasn't really talking at this stage other than "water". I was getting pretty vocal with the peak of the contractions (I later asked if the suites are reasonably soundproof - they aren't! How terrifying for anyone coming in!!) and just really let go. When I got to 8cm, about 11am, the midwife came and said something like this: "the anesthetist has given everyone else on the ward an epidural, and he rides his bike in here and lives a reasonable distance away, and given you are 8cm, if you want it, he won't get back here in time, so if you want it, you have to get it now...". She said the pain wouldn't get worse, but that it would continue for about another three hours before I could start pushing. I didn't need an epidural right at that moment, but the thought of three more hours of the same level of pain sealed the deal for me. I went for it. As I said at the time, I didn't need that medal. I tried, and I was really proud of how far I got, but I was pretty close to my limit of what I could handle before losing control. It was really getting to be too much. I was pretty shut down at this stage - not talking, eyes closed, pretty primitive noises coming from me. It took me about 15 minutes to get out of the back and onto my bed about 3 metres away. The anesthetist was as charming and empathetic as a doorknob, but worked his magic, and then sweet, sweet relief in about five minutes time. I have honestly never felt such a feeling of relief, it was amazing. I came out of the zone, and was chatting, eating biscuits, having cups of tea, and cracking gags in no time. The epidural was really different from what I expected. I could still move my legs, I could still feel people touching my legs, I was totally mentally present, and the only thing that was really different was that the vice on my belly had let up. So I chatted away the last two cms of dilation before they told me it was time to push. I thought all the hard work was over once I had the epidural and that I was on the downhill track. Not so much. Pushing was really difficult, especially since I couldn't feel anything. So I asked them to dial back the epidural which brought back the pain. I pushed for over an hour and then the midwife said she had to get the obstetrician - I knew that meant intervention, so I tried *really* hard to push, but I just wasn't getting very far. The obstetrician came down and I had my own little cheer squad encouraging me with every push, but it was slow going. I pushed for another half hour or so, and he said that the baby was in the birth canal for too long and had to come out, so he wanted to use a vacuum. Not what I wanted, but baby had to come out, so we tried that. It was slow going. The vacuum came off a couple of times, and I tried so hard, but he just wouldn't come out. Eventually, the obstetrician said that we would give it one last go with the vacuum, and then he had to use forceps because the baby really needed to come out now because his heart rate was dropping. At this stage I was totally exhausted, shattered like I have never been in my life, but I knew he wasn't far off, and I really, really didn't want a forcep delivery (and accompanying episiotomy). An ominously large and metal sounding package wrapped in blue fabric was quietly put next to the obstetrician (forceps!! eeek), and I was given one last push. I just told the doctor to do whatever he had to do to get the baby out. The doctor put ALL his bodyweight into pulling Arch out and I used all the energy I had left. He was pouring with sweat by then too, and I could tell by everyone's faces that they were getting concerned. And he came out. If I thought the epidural was a relief, this quickly replaced that moment as by far the strongest feeling of relief I have ever felt. It was like running into a wall of relief - so total and overwhelming. He was born at 5:12 pm. I can't really remember much at this stage, but I know they put him on my chest right away. I remember his smell really clearly - so earthy and salty and wet. They took him away pretty quickly because a paediatrician had to look over him (which they do with all assisted deliveries). He had a huge bruise and lump on his head from the vacuum, and he was so hard to get out because he had a very big head... They brought him back, and we just held him and stared at him. You are pregnant for so long, but nothing prepares you for the fact you now have a baby - OMG, a baby!!!
He fed, and Jamie held him, and the obstetrician finished up his business. I had one internal stitch, which the obstetrician said was an amazing outcome for an assisted delivery. The midwife that works with him later told me he was really, really nervous about not doing an episiotomy, and that it was a good lesson for him to learn, but I'm sure the outcome could just as easily have been bad as it was good. But I'm glad I stuck by my guns.
Gradually, everyone left and it was just us, our little family. I was pretty keen to get him feeding well, and he was on and off, in between us just looking at him in incredulity. WE DID THAT.
So things didn't go according to plan, but I was so proud and happy about Archie's birth. I felt totally supported and in control during the whole thing - even towards the end, the obstetrician was listening to what I wanted and everyone there was so amazing. We had a beautiful midwife, my doula was fantastic, the obstetrician incredible, and of course Jamie was holding my hand through every minute of it and being the best support possible.
I didn't feel the instant smack of love that a lot of people talk about, it took me a little while to bond with him and want to kiss his belly all day long, but I'm definitely there. I love this little boy so deeply and intensely. He's transformed my life, and made me calm in a way I have never been before. He's also wracked me with anxiety and guilt, but wow, what a journey it's been already. I love being his mum, Jamie's wife, and having a family. I know the future is going to be amazing and I will never be the same because of this little boy. It's such a privilege to be responsible for bringing up a human being, and trying to give him the best guidance we can to be a good person. Archie, my darling, welcome to the world. We love you very much and adore being your parents. I hope we can do a good job of it. We will always try our best. Now lets have some fun.
Archie Richard Moses
Where to start!?!? Our beautiful little boy was born ten and a bit weeks ago, and our lives were forever changed. I'm at a loss to begin to describe how the last ten weeks have been, but it seems like we've come so far in that time. From a quiet, sweet, sleepy, mysterious little creature that I was petrified to even hold has emerged a still sweet, very alert, happy and inquisitive little boy who recognises us, loves his bath, smiles all the time, hardly cries, gets frustrated when he doesn't get enough milk, makes hilarious noises all night long, and just loves hanging out at looking at lights and having cuddles. He melts me a hundred times a day, and nothing I have ever done has made me feel so much so intensely. My life has been flipped on its head, and there is now this constant little presence with me, who I would do anything for. It's been a process of getting to know each other and working out what he wants and when. I still have very little idea most of the time, but I'm getting better each day. It's so easy to be really hard on yourself as a new mum, and I know I have been, but what could be more important than getting this right?
My dad was staying with us when I went into labour and was waiting to hear Archie's first cries outside the delivery suite. Jamie's mum was also in Sydney and my mum came over from Holland when he was three weeks old and stayed with us for three weeks being the most amazing help (cook, cleaner, maid, laundromat etc). We've had loads of visitors and amazing support from all our friends here in Sydney, and those who are far away too.
You can see photos from his first six weeks here. There is just so much to say... I know we are so lucky to have the baby we do - aside from being perfectly healthy, he is a very happy feeder, and really rarely cries. We were warned about the "witching hours" with new babies in the early evening, but we hardly had any of that, and Arch really rarely cries, so when he does I find it really distressing. I've never found a noise so physically uncomfortable. I can feel it in my chest when he cries and it's such an overwhelming instinct to go to him when he's upset. Like everyone, he has good days and bad days, but the good days are far more frequent then the bad. He's nearly doubled his birth weight since being born (!!), and is a breastfeeding demon. He sleeps well, and has even done one nine hour sleep in the evening. I'm usually up with him once or twice a twice a night - at around 11 and around three or four in the morning. But it's pretty variable. He sometimes wakes up between feeds, but is getting good at settling himself back down - admittedly often aided by a dummy. I'm also getting better at letting him try to settle himself back down rather than picking him up every time he wakes. I'm actually amazed by how not tired I feel. I mean, I'm tired, but my eyes aren't hanging out of my head and it's hard to feel resentful about getting up to feed your baby. I read somewhere that your hormones help you cope with the lack of sleep, but after so many people carry on about how you'll never sleep again, it's been a pleasant surprise. That whole "sleep when the baby sleeps" thing isn't happening - it did while my mum was here, but it's just too hard to do when it's just me and there is stuff to do around the house. And I don't feel that I can't function without it. It would be nice though... I'm sure as he gets into more of a sleeping pattern it will happen.
In the early days I really struggled with feeling anxious about pretty much everything, which resulted in a lot of tears from me. I still do when he has an off day, and I don't know why or if it's something I'm doing. But I'm getting more confident, and also relaxing a bit. At the start I was paranoid about creating "bad habits" - I felt terrible about giving him his dummy (even though it instantly relaxed him and stopped him crying), I didn't know how to settle him - in my arms or otherwise, and had been made to feel that settling him in my arms wasn't right. Thankfully I'm now happy to rock him to sleep in my arms - I actually love it, but I'm trying to not do it ALL the time so that he can learn to put himself to sleep without having to rely on me. It's not so much for him, but I need to get into good habits with him for when it gets important for him in a few months time. We have a little night time routine with a bath, massage, story and feed which is so sweet. The rest we just wing it, based loosely on a three or four hourly feeding structure.
A few things have caught me by surprise - like how much I don't mind spending my days not doing much but feeding and playing with him. I know I'll need to make more of an effort to get out and do stuff eventually, but right now I'm happy to just snuggle at home and watch him sleep. He generates an incredible amount of laundry, and staying on top of that as well as managing to have a shower and make dinner every day feels like a great accomplishment.
It's amazing how quickly you get to know your baby - it's amazing how in tune you become with what your baby needs and wants. Sometimes there is absolutely no clue, but right now, I know him better than anyone in the world, and know what's best for him, and that's a nice thought.
Everyone has so much advice on what is right and wrong, and all these books push their own philosophies. But as the sensible ones (people and books) keep saying, there is no manual to doing this, and you should just do what feels right for you and what makes you and the baby happy.
I read a blog post the other day by and really related to a couple of things she said - that each stage seems like the best and you never want them to change, and then they get better. It's hard to imagine him getting cuter or better, and part of me wants him to just stay a little baby. When his umbilical stump fell off I felt sad about it, when he grew out of his 0000 clothes I felt sad about it - all this change! All so quickly! I just want to save up all the lovely moments and smiles and snuggly times. Already he is so different to when he was born - and it's been such a short period of time. But I'm sure with each stage I'll think it's the best and the most fun, but I also know I'll look back on this time and wish for it again, so I'm trying to really enjoy it and not wish it away.
The other thing this blogger was saying was that she knows she'll look back in a few years time and see the child she has already there in the baby - not just in looks, but personality, and I know the same will be the case for Archie - it's just that I can't see it now and I am so curious about what kind of a person he is going to be. What will he look like?? What will he be like?? How will his laugh sound? Will he like cooking with me? Will he like soccer or tennis? Will he be stubborn like his mum and dad? Will he love to go swimming? What funny little things will he do that will make us tell stories about him for years to come? I know it's all there and is going to come out, and that's such a lovely thought.
This is becoming a really long post, so I'll wrap it up, but what I do want to say is that being a mum is lovely. People (other women mainly) are so negative about it, but it's just beautiful and rewarding and lovely. It really does get easier, and of course it has its moments, but it's so worth it. I'm so excited for all my mummy to be friends right now, and can't wait to introduce Arch to everyone soon. Until then, this is my favourite picture of him (so far). Is my baby the cutest thing ever or what??
My dad was staying with us when I went into labour and was waiting to hear Archie's first cries outside the delivery suite. Jamie's mum was also in Sydney and my mum came over from Holland when he was three weeks old and stayed with us for three weeks being the most amazing help (cook, cleaner, maid, laundromat etc). We've had loads of visitors and amazing support from all our friends here in Sydney, and those who are far away too.
You can see photos from his first six weeks here. There is just so much to say... I know we are so lucky to have the baby we do - aside from being perfectly healthy, he is a very happy feeder, and really rarely cries. We were warned about the "witching hours" with new babies in the early evening, but we hardly had any of that, and Arch really rarely cries, so when he does I find it really distressing. I've never found a noise so physically uncomfortable. I can feel it in my chest when he cries and it's such an overwhelming instinct to go to him when he's upset. Like everyone, he has good days and bad days, but the good days are far more frequent then the bad. He's nearly doubled his birth weight since being born (!!), and is a breastfeeding demon. He sleeps well, and has even done one nine hour sleep in the evening. I'm usually up with him once or twice a twice a night - at around 11 and around three or four in the morning. But it's pretty variable. He sometimes wakes up between feeds, but is getting good at settling himself back down - admittedly often aided by a dummy. I'm also getting better at letting him try to settle himself back down rather than picking him up every time he wakes. I'm actually amazed by how not tired I feel. I mean, I'm tired, but my eyes aren't hanging out of my head and it's hard to feel resentful about getting up to feed your baby. I read somewhere that your hormones help you cope with the lack of sleep, but after so many people carry on about how you'll never sleep again, it's been a pleasant surprise. That whole "sleep when the baby sleeps" thing isn't happening - it did while my mum was here, but it's just too hard to do when it's just me and there is stuff to do around the house. And I don't feel that I can't function without it. It would be nice though... I'm sure as he gets into more of a sleeping pattern it will happen.
In the early days I really struggled with feeling anxious about pretty much everything, which resulted in a lot of tears from me. I still do when he has an off day, and I don't know why or if it's something I'm doing. But I'm getting more confident, and also relaxing a bit. At the start I was paranoid about creating "bad habits" - I felt terrible about giving him his dummy (even though it instantly relaxed him and stopped him crying), I didn't know how to settle him - in my arms or otherwise, and had been made to feel that settling him in my arms wasn't right. Thankfully I'm now happy to rock him to sleep in my arms - I actually love it, but I'm trying to not do it ALL the time so that he can learn to put himself to sleep without having to rely on me. It's not so much for him, but I need to get into good habits with him for when it gets important for him in a few months time. We have a little night time routine with a bath, massage, story and feed which is so sweet. The rest we just wing it, based loosely on a three or four hourly feeding structure.
A few things have caught me by surprise - like how much I don't mind spending my days not doing much but feeding and playing with him. I know I'll need to make more of an effort to get out and do stuff eventually, but right now I'm happy to just snuggle at home and watch him sleep. He generates an incredible amount of laundry, and staying on top of that as well as managing to have a shower and make dinner every day feels like a great accomplishment.
It's amazing how quickly you get to know your baby - it's amazing how in tune you become with what your baby needs and wants. Sometimes there is absolutely no clue, but right now, I know him better than anyone in the world, and know what's best for him, and that's a nice thought.
Everyone has so much advice on what is right and wrong, and all these books push their own philosophies. But as the sensible ones (people and books) keep saying, there is no manual to doing this, and you should just do what feels right for you and what makes you and the baby happy.
I read a blog post the other day by and really related to a couple of things she said - that each stage seems like the best and you never want them to change, and then they get better. It's hard to imagine him getting cuter or better, and part of me wants him to just stay a little baby. When his umbilical stump fell off I felt sad about it, when he grew out of his 0000 clothes I felt sad about it - all this change! All so quickly! I just want to save up all the lovely moments and smiles and snuggly times. Already he is so different to when he was born - and it's been such a short period of time. But I'm sure with each stage I'll think it's the best and the most fun, but I also know I'll look back on this time and wish for it again, so I'm trying to really enjoy it and not wish it away.
The other thing this blogger was saying was that she knows she'll look back in a few years time and see the child she has already there in the baby - not just in looks, but personality, and I know the same will be the case for Archie - it's just that I can't see it now and I am so curious about what kind of a person he is going to be. What will he look like?? What will he be like?? How will his laugh sound? Will he like cooking with me? Will he like soccer or tennis? Will he be stubborn like his mum and dad? Will he love to go swimming? What funny little things will he do that will make us tell stories about him for years to come? I know it's all there and is going to come out, and that's such a lovely thought.
This is becoming a really long post, so I'll wrap it up, but what I do want to say is that being a mum is lovely. People (other women mainly) are so negative about it, but it's just beautiful and rewarding and lovely. It really does get easier, and of course it has its moments, but it's so worth it. I'm so excited for all my mummy to be friends right now, and can't wait to introduce Arch to everyone soon. Until then, this is my favourite picture of him (so far). Is my baby the cutest thing ever or what??
Friday, June 22, 2012
35 to 38 weeks pregnant
In case you were wondering, my long absence from the blog does not mean I am 46 weeks pregnant. Archie Richard Moses was born eight weeks ago, on a Friday afternoon at 5:12 pm (cocktail hour!). Before I write about both the birth and all about his first six weeks, I'll finish up the pregnancy posts.
Here is me on the morning of the day I went into labour - I went to a work meeting, so got to wear a nice dress. 38 weeks plus 6 days:
But I can assure you, it wasn't all pretty dresses and makeup in the end of the pregnancy. It was mostly stretchy clothes and ugg boots. As evidenced here at 37 weeks.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
33 and 34 weeks
I've had three weeks off work already, which has flown by. I'm trying to just enjoy this time and take it easy, but I constantly feel the need to be doing things, and I'm not good at doing nothing. Luckily, there are many jobs to do before the baby comes, most of which involve spending money at various shops, and if there is one thing I'm good at...
I am also doing yoga several times a week, which I'm really enjoying. I really am getting physically pretty big now, and regularly cursing the fact that our two bathrooms are up a flight of stairs - firstly stairs (pant pant), and secondly, how many times in a day can one person need to go pee?
33 weeks and heading off to yoga:
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
32 weeks
This is a new dress. I think I'll try and stop buying maternity clothes now, given I'm due in less than 8 weeks. But it was like $50, so even if I wear it once a week for the next 8 weeks, my value per wear ratio is $6.25, which is totally reasonable, amirite? And it's definitely something I'd wear after I have the baby if it isn't too tent like (which hopefully it will be - immediately).
Finally, science and maths do something useful!
By creating an algorithm which predicts the longevity of celebrity marriages. I'm glad to see that Beyonce and Jay-Z have some good odds, but unfortunately, even if you went to the 15th decimal place, Khloe Kardashian and Lamar Odom have zero expectancy of making it to their golden wedding anniversary.
Monday, March 12, 2012
31 weeks and Emu Export
So I missed week 30. It's been a really busy time at work, and I feel like I'm just keeping my head above water. Thanks to me we turned up a week early for our birth and parenting class at the hospital on Saturday. Ahem. Better than a week late I guess? It's my last week of work before I go on maternity leave, so I took no small satisfaction in waking up this morning and thinking that this would be my last working Monday morning for quite some time. I'm sure I won't think I'm such a legend when I'm woken up at 3am on Monday mornings by a crying baby, but hey, I'll take it for now.
Here is week 31. Not the best bump showing off dress, but it is leopard print, which counts for a lot. Also - new glasses. I bought them online (Dior) and am very pleased with how they turned out. You can't really see them very well, but the front is a clear blue/grey colour, and the sides are a smoky brown colour. I'm kind of loving myself in them.
We went out for dinner with Muz and Em recently to a hipster bar/restaurant. We had to do a double take when we saw none other than Emu Export being offered on the menu. Surely this was some sort of West Australian joke? Turns out no, people were ordering it!! I saw more than one can go out from the bar. Lord knows where they sourced it (my back shed circa 1999 thanks to Lindsay Dodd?), but the hipsters were loving the Export. Crazy kids. It's not a great pic, but here is a can on the bar, waiting to be delivered to what I assume is an unsuspecting parton.
Finally, I really liked this slide show from The Guardian today where art nudes have been reworked to conform to today's ideal body types. I think it says a lot.
Here is week 31. Not the best bump showing off dress, but it is leopard print, which counts for a lot. Also - new glasses. I bought them online (Dior) and am very pleased with how they turned out. You can't really see them very well, but the front is a clear blue/grey colour, and the sides are a smoky brown colour. I'm kind of loving myself in them.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Weeks 27 + 28
Week 27 bump pic (taken in Melbourne):
I've got four weeks left of work after this week ends. After this birth course we did a couple of weeks ago I've been feeling the need to get organised a bit more, and this weekend I'll start packing my hospital bag, and we'll hit up the shops again for more baby essentials.
I got a the cutest box full of things from my mum for the baby last week too. His first teddy! And the softest blanket ever, with a bunny embroidered on it! Adorable.
We are now going to the obstetrician fortnightly, and yesterday he pointed out that you can see fuzz on top of his head - HAIR! The dragon baby has hair! And the fortnight before, we could see him opening and closing his mouth, drinking lots of tasty anmiotic fluid. Amazing.
He's in the right position for birth now, and should stay that way. That also means his feet are up on my ribs, and he's running out of room, so I've been getting a few strong kicks lately. It's hard not to be distracted by it all, especially when in meetings and being serious with clients.
Baby has notched up a fair few frequent flyer points already, but I think that will have to come to an end soon.
I'm feeling increasingly excited about meeting him - but also a little apprehensive about it all. I know there is no way to really prepare for this, and things are going to be so different for me. For both of us. But we'll have this little guy who will amaze and overwhelm and fill us with love every day. And that will make it all so worthwhile.
I think I'll miss being pregnant though. I quite like it - except for the times that I don't... but it's nice to carry him around and feel him moving like our own little secret all day long, and I like wearing tight things to show off the bump, and I feel pretty great. But it will be great to run again, not see the scales going up every time I step on them, wear normal clothes, etc. Oh, and of course, to meet our baby!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Week 27 - arts edition
This week the second trimester came to an end! Wow. We are this far already. Right now I'm really enjoying being pregnant, even though walking up hills (pant pant pant), tying my shoelaces (I can't reeeeeach), and getting up off the ground (groan, grunt, moan) have never been harder. I find complete strangers smiling at me and the bump, and it's really kind of nice.
This week we got a dose of culture. We went on a VIP tour of Picasso's exhibition at the NSW Art Gallery during the week, which was pretty amazing (says she casually about 200 pieces of art valued at multi millions per item), and also to the opera on Saturday night (Turandot). I thought he'd kick and be quite active during the opera (because he can hear), but he was really quiet. Hope the little guy wasn't scared by all that yelling. Here's me just before we headed out:
And me at the Opera House. I think this is my favourite preggie pic so far. The dress I'm wearing was the bridesmaids dress I wore for Emma's wedding, and it was pretty boobtacular, but that's never stopped me before. Going to the opera is so much fun. Where else do you see people in tuxedos and people in crocs at the same event? We tried to go to Jamie Oliver's Italian joint in the city for dinner beforehand, but the line was out the door at 6.10, so our backup plan was burgers at Rockpool. And as far as backup plans go, it wasn't a bad one...
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Week 26 - Qualia edition
We are back from five lovely days at Qualia, doing nothing but putting time in the sleeping, reading, lying around by the pool and watching TV vaults. I think we are going to draw on the resources of those vaults in the near future, if the threats of people that we will NEVER sleep again or EVER be able to do ANYTHING enjoyable ever again are true. Qualia itself was lovely, so beautiful. I did yoga every day, and padded around showing off my belly in a bikini. Which sounds glamorous, but it was usually accompanied by rivulets of sweat streaming off me. One night we went out for dinner, and the waitress was so concerned about how hot I was she put me in the (large walk in) wine fridge while Jamie paid the bill, which was hilarious, because it was a glass encased wine fridge, located by the entrance of the restaurant, intended to look all fancy and classy, not to be a goldfish bowl for an extremely hot pregnant lady sticking her face in front of the fans.
I Became obsessed with Downton Abbey, but since there is only one season on iTunes, and it's only eight episodes long, the obsession was short lived. But I'm excited for season 2.
Just in the last couple of weeks the general public has been feeling free to comment on my belly and ask questions about it. I think I'm a fully fledged pregnant lady in the eyes of the rest of the world now. I'm really quite enjoying this stage of things - I'm still pretty comfortable, and the little dragon spends his days and nights squirming away. It feels a bit more like I've surrendered myself over to being pregnant and it's now totally intertwined with who I am. Which isn't a negative thing at all, it's lovely. I could lie on the couch for hours and watch my belly move. I got in trouble last night for poking and prodding the baby to feel him kick back - I'm sure it wasn't hurting him though, he's got a little swimming pool in there to keep things cushioned.
My public transport trials continue - the other day someone FELL on me as I was sitting down when the bus lurched away from the stop, and his apology was "sorry, I'm not used to catching buses". I really didn't know what to say to that. But you know I THOUGHT lots of rude things at him.
We've got a fun weekend coming up - the opera on Saturday night, and then Jamie is doing The Cole classic swim on Sunday at Manly. We've both done it the last two years, but I'm just cheer squad this year. It's a nice atmosphere down at Manly, and I'm looking forward to it.
I think I'm also one of the few people in Sydney right now that's not complaining about the weather! Suits me just fine.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
25 weeks
Lots of things make me angry and send me into fits of ranting. This is exacerbated by pregnancy - if I think of anything that normally irritates me, and stick the phrase "and I'm six months pregnant" in my complaint somewhere, it just has extra gravitas - such as:
- Waiting at a taxi rank when some bloke 20 metres down the road sticks out his hand and gets the cab that would have been coming to the rank, and the taxi stops for him, "and I'm six months pregnant".
- When the bank won't change my billing address for a credit card I rarely use because I can't recall the last time I used it, and that's their stupid security question, "and I'm six months pregnant".
- When you call the salvos to come pick up some furniture you don't want and they tell you they can't disassemble a bed because of insurance, and that you have to do it yourself if you want them to take it "and I'm six months pregnant".
See, it works in all instances.I don't think pregnant ladies should be the subject of a great deal of special treatment merely because they are creating new life, however one thing I'm pretty firm in my belief on is that people should stand for pregnant ladies in general on public transport. Especially the people sitting in the special needs seats, everyone else can keep their seats at the back of the bus. I don't even want a seat half the time, but the fact that every f***er sits there staring at their phones and looking anywhere but at me makes me so angry. I think I'm going to start taking pictures of people and sending them to the Daily Telegraph or something. There is no mistaking the fact I am pregnant, and it's pretty much a 50/50 chance that anyone will offer me a seat on the bus. Really humanity? Really?? This is the best you can do?? Furthermore - looking up sullenly, while not getting up, and asking resentfully "do you want to sit down" does not a courteous bus traveller make. Get the f**k up. One more thing - it's usually women who offer their seats. Now I'm a modern lady, and I don't want or expect any guy to give me a seat under normal circumstances, but I'm sorry boys, you need to get your cheap polyester suits off that seat, tone down the Brut 33 and get some manners (big shout out to the guy directly in front of me on the 301 bus this morning).
I've been walking in to work and home a lot lately. I think I'll stick to it.
Anyway, off on our babymoon tomorrow! Yipeee!
Also, I wasn't just making it up about everyone wanting dragon babies - this article from the WSJ has interviews with people who are getting fertility treatments so they can have dragon babies!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
24 weeks
Things (me) have been growing rapidly lately. Even just looking back on the pics I posted just a couple of months ago I can't believe how much I've grown. I'm not sure why I'm surprised, but here I am, six months pregnant.
My focus is gradually shifting to the fact that we are going to have a baby soon, and trying to get ready for that. Unfortunately, that also entails giving birth, which I need to really start reading up on and thinking about. We have a doula, which I'm really pleased we did. She dropped over about 10 books yesterday on birth, so I'll have a look through those and see what grabs me. I really like the idea of someone being there with us the whole time who knows what they are doing and who has seen it all before. Even more when they are a trained counsellor and know how to calm down hysterical screaming women in labour. Sure, I'll be in a hospital and have an obstetrician, but they don't stay with you through your labour, and I really want that extra support, especially if I need it. I'm trying to be positive about it all though. Buuuut enough about that.
This week, the Wheaters brought over presents in the form of cute baby clothes!
How awesome is all this stuff??? Ahem, especially note the furry hooded jacket on the right. IT HAS EARS ON THE HOOD. Cutest thing ever.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Christmas at the beach
We spent Christmas in a beach house with the team from Wheaterville. We (Em) orgnised this early on in the year, so much self high fiving (me) was taking place in the lead up to our trip. And it wasn't a disappointment at all. In fact, it was perfect. Nothing too fancy, just a nice beach house, with wooden fish and nautical stripes everywhere (just in case you didn't get you were near the beach). I can't remember ever having done a quintessentially Australian Christmas like this before - walking on the beach in the morning, having a swim, lazing around reading and watching videos, eating massive amounts of food, chatting, and just chilling out.
We were a bit of a comedy of errors between the lot of us, with each of us becoming sick or injured at some stage, with one of us even needing a trip to the hospital with a nasty burn. My personal affliction was some sort of gastro bug which took hold on boxing day. I'm not quite ready to admit that any of the food I ate the day before had anything to do with it, although it does seem the most likely conclusion.
This isn't the best picture, but it's the living room and kitchen of the house (stripes! oars!), with Em, Muz, Josie and Jamie (behind Josie in the kitchen) one morning.
- glazed ham
- turkey breast (stuffed with pork mince and cranberries)
- spiced pears
- cauliflower cheese
- honeyed carrots
- rocket, feta and pomegranate salad
Monday, January 9, 2012
Weeks 21, 22 and 23
Here's me on Christmas Day (more to come on that shortly), at our beach house, in my new maternity frock - 21 weeks:
Our Woolies delivery guy told me that this is going to be the year of the Dragon in the Chinese zodiac, which is very good, especially for boys. He said everyone wants dragon babies, and that they bring good luck. I liked that. My little dragon boy.
We have also booked a babymoon for the near future, and because I'm totally spoilt, we are going to.... Qualia. Yesssssss. We were going to go somewhere more reasonable, but the hubby reasoned that if we are going to do this, we might as well do it properly. Ummm, OK!! If it's good enough for Oprah, I think it will be sufficient for us. But I will report back.
The dragon boy has been ACTIVE in the last couple of weeks. He kicks up a storm now, some days he just dances away all day. Lots of the things I read said it feels like butterflies, but I never got that. It feels pretty much like there is a 30cm little person inside you kicking you. Or popcorn. That is the most accurate description I have read. Funny how so much baby descriptor stuff relates to food. In particular, the updates you get each week, saying "your baby is as big as a potato now". Which isn't the most helpful thing in the world given how much the size of a potato can vary. And what the hell is a yam anyway? Apparently the dragon baby is the size of a banana this week - again, I find "29 cm" a little more useful to visualise things rather than just "a banana", but hey, the more things relate to food the better.
Speaking of which, I still haven't had any mad cravings. I'm kind of disappointed. I am drinking a lot more milk, especially with Milo, which I used to be mad for when I was younger. But that's really it.
I went for a swim the other day, and there were a bunch of young girls in the change rooms who were part of a squad and had obviously just finished training. It made me feel all nostalgic. There I was, in my maternity bathers, waddling around, but I used to be just like them. Chatting, borrowing moisturiser, gossiping, fit. And here I am now. And not that I'm sad to be here, or want to go back, but just listening to these girls made me smile. I suppose in 15 years they will do the same.
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