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

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.

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??