The boys with their respective godmothers, my dear and darling best friends, Jill & Nikki
Monday, August 29, 2011
Baek-il - It's a Korean Thing
Last weekend, we celebrated Charlie's baptism, as well as his baek-il, or 100 Days Birthday.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Ergo Heart2Heart Infant Insert - A Review
About eighteen months ago, I reviewed my beloved Ergo. I didn't start using my Ergo, however, until Alex was about six months old, so I hadn't a use for the Infant Insert. So, with Charlie, I was glad to have an excuse to try it out. Which also gives me an excuse to write another review. I'll also add in my "Ergo After Two Years of Use" review at the end.
The Heart2Heart Infant Insert has me in two minds. I love my Ergo, and I know I need the Insert to be able to carry my infant in it, but besides that, it doesn't inspire a great level of enthusiasm or excitement. It serves it purpose, which is great. It does have a few downfalls, however.
It would be absolutely useless to use in the Australian Summer. It's the middle of a relatively chilly Winter at present, and I still find Charlie getting quite warm after being in the Insert. It is wonderful that he is nice and rugged up from the elements in the Insert, but there is no way I could use it in any warmer weather. (It's presently around 15 degrees Celsius on average). I was actually given the Insert by a friend for a baby shower present. She had originally bought it for herself for her baby born in August, but tried it once and found it terribly hot. So she popped it back in the package for my Winter baby.
I found the Insert a little challenging to use to begin with. Even with the instructions, I couldn't figure out where my little one's legs and feet were supposed to go. After the second or third try, though, it became second nature. However, I am also very comfortable and practised in putting on and taking off my Ergo, so I would imagine it might take a little longer to get used to for Ergo virgins.
I love how soft and cosy the material is, and Charlie looks super cute all wrapped up in it. I don't presently have a photo of the Infant Insert in use, but will add one as soon as Husband provides one.
Another issue is that you really need a surface to lay your baby on to be able to put bub into the Insert, and then the Ergo. Usually I have the car's front passenger seat, but today, after feeding Charlie at the shopping centre, I had to look around for something to put Charlie down on before I could get going. Not really a big deal, but just a little extra bit of inconvenient. The Ergo carrier by itself is much more convenient to get baby in and out of.
I also have to compare the Infant Insert with my other alternative baby carrier - the Sleepy Wrap. My sister lent me hers, and I just cannot use it. Perhaps, like the Ergo, it takes practice, but Charlie seems to hate it also. He seems much more comfortable in the Infant Insert. The Sleepy Wrap (or other jersey material alternatives) is impossible to wear in public, unless I happen to have put it on before I left the house. Otherwise, one has jersey material all over the dirty carpark while you attempt to tie it around you, with toddler and infant both screaming. Not so fun. I would generally use the Sleepy Wrap at home, and the Ergo out and about.
So on to my "Two Years Later" update of the Ergo. I still love it. My enthusiasm has spread among friends and family, and several have bought their own. My sister borrowed mine while I was pregnant, and was loathe to return it. I had to metaphorically bitch-fight her for it, and she went to buy her own straight after.
As predicted, my maroon colour has faded a tad, but the actual carrier is in fantastic shape, especially considering the work-out it's had. I carried 18 month old Alex around New Zealand in it. My other sister carried her (admittedly small) four year old in it. I carried 16kg thirty month old Alex in it the other day, which by the way, was a fantastic bum exercise.
One thing I've found is that the Ergo is fantastic for getting kids to sleep. Even carrying Alex in it last week, he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open after a while, even though it was ten in the morning. Pre-pregnancy, it was a sure-fire way to get Alex to sleep, particularly while travelling. My four year old nephew couldn't even resist the urge to nap when he was on my sister's back.
One unfortunate aspect of the Ergo carrier I have is the short waist band. This wasn't a problem pre-Charlie, but I unfortunately have an extra 15kg to lose post pregnancy, and there is no way I could wear the Ergo with the regular waist band. The thing is, even with the extra 15kg, I'm not humungus. I believe the newer models do have a longer waistband, so one doesn't need to purchase the "fat extender", as I like to call it. Thankfully, my sister had bought the "fat extender", so she passed it along to me. Perhaps I've deceived myself in how fat I've actually become, but I would have thought the regular waist band would suffice.
So here's the summary of the Heart2Heart Infant Insert:
The Good:
- Lovely soft material
- Super cosy in Winter
- The seat feels supportive and appropriate for newborns
The Bad:
- Completely useless for use in warmer climates
- Takes practice to get bub's position right
- Need a surface to lay bub on to put him in or out of the Ergo
- I find the neck support is not fabulous unless I keep adjusting the Insert under the Ergo straps
To be honest, I can't wait until Charlie is big enough that we don't need to use it any more. It's necessary, and I want to be able to use my Ergo, but it's kind of a pain in the bum. So, on my arbitrary ratings scale, I give it a 5/10. And those five points are only because it allows me to use my Ergo.
The Heart2Heart Infant Insert has me in two minds. I love my Ergo, and I know I need the Insert to be able to carry my infant in it, but besides that, it doesn't inspire a great level of enthusiasm or excitement. It serves it purpose, which is great. It does have a few downfalls, however.
It would be absolutely useless to use in the Australian Summer. It's the middle of a relatively chilly Winter at present, and I still find Charlie getting quite warm after being in the Insert. It is wonderful that he is nice and rugged up from the elements in the Insert, but there is no way I could use it in any warmer weather. (It's presently around 15 degrees Celsius on average). I was actually given the Insert by a friend for a baby shower present. She had originally bought it for herself for her baby born in August, but tried it once and found it terribly hot. So she popped it back in the package for my Winter baby.
I found the Insert a little challenging to use to begin with. Even with the instructions, I couldn't figure out where my little one's legs and feet were supposed to go. After the second or third try, though, it became second nature. However, I am also very comfortable and practised in putting on and taking off my Ergo, so I would imagine it might take a little longer to get used to for Ergo virgins.
I love how soft and cosy the material is, and Charlie looks super cute all wrapped up in it. I don't presently have a photo of the Infant Insert in use, but will add one as soon as Husband provides one.
Another issue is that you really need a surface to lay your baby on to be able to put bub into the Insert, and then the Ergo. Usually I have the car's front passenger seat, but today, after feeding Charlie at the shopping centre, I had to look around for something to put Charlie down on before I could get going. Not really a big deal, but just a little extra bit of inconvenient. The Ergo carrier by itself is much more convenient to get baby in and out of.
I also have to compare the Infant Insert with my other alternative baby carrier - the Sleepy Wrap. My sister lent me hers, and I just cannot use it. Perhaps, like the Ergo, it takes practice, but Charlie seems to hate it also. He seems much more comfortable in the Infant Insert. The Sleepy Wrap (or other jersey material alternatives) is impossible to wear in public, unless I happen to have put it on before I left the house. Otherwise, one has jersey material all over the dirty carpark while you attempt to tie it around you, with toddler and infant both screaming. Not so fun. I would generally use the Sleepy Wrap at home, and the Ergo out and about.
So on to my "Two Years Later" update of the Ergo. I still love it. My enthusiasm has spread among friends and family, and several have bought their own. My sister borrowed mine while I was pregnant, and was loathe to return it. I had to metaphorically bitch-fight her for it, and she went to buy her own straight after.
As predicted, my maroon colour has faded a tad, but the actual carrier is in fantastic shape, especially considering the work-out it's had. I carried 18 month old Alex around New Zealand in it. My other sister carried her (admittedly small) four year old in it. I carried 16kg thirty month old Alex in it the other day, which by the way, was a fantastic bum exercise.
One thing I've found is that the Ergo is fantastic for getting kids to sleep. Even carrying Alex in it last week, he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open after a while, even though it was ten in the morning. Pre-pregnancy, it was a sure-fire way to get Alex to sleep, particularly while travelling. My four year old nephew couldn't even resist the urge to nap when he was on my sister's back.
One unfortunate aspect of the Ergo carrier I have is the short waist band. This wasn't a problem pre-Charlie, but I unfortunately have an extra 15kg to lose post pregnancy, and there is no way I could wear the Ergo with the regular waist band. The thing is, even with the extra 15kg, I'm not humungus. I believe the newer models do have a longer waistband, so one doesn't need to purchase the "fat extender", as I like to call it. Thankfully, my sister had bought the "fat extender", so she passed it along to me. Perhaps I've deceived myself in how fat I've actually become, but I would have thought the regular waist band would suffice.
So here's the summary of the Heart2Heart Infant Insert:
The Good:
- Lovely soft material
- Super cosy in Winter
- The seat feels supportive and appropriate for newborns
The Bad:
- Completely useless for use in warmer climates
- Takes practice to get bub's position right
- Need a surface to lay bub on to put him in or out of the Ergo
- I find the neck support is not fabulous unless I keep adjusting the Insert under the Ergo straps
To be honest, I can't wait until Charlie is big enough that we don't need to use it any more. It's necessary, and I want to be able to use my Ergo, but it's kind of a pain in the bum. So, on my arbitrary ratings scale, I give it a 5/10. And those five points are only because it allows me to use my Ergo.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Not-So-Meningococcal
So last weekend, we had our first major health scare with either of our boys. Although it wasn't too scary. Our little Charlie Bear, who is now nine weeks old, was suspected of having meningococcal meningitis, and was rewarded with a two day hospital stay. He wasn't sick, it was all due to a dodgy looking rash on his leg, but shout out to the John Hunter for taking every precaution with our baby.
Our friends, Jill & Rob and their two little girls, and Nikki, were over for dinner last Saturday night, so we could celebrate Rob finishing his internship and Nikki handing in the first draft of her masters thesis. We had barely eaten dinner when I was changing Charlie, and I spotted a purply rash on his leg. It hadn't been there when I'd last changed him, and it looked "not right". I brought him out to show John, and he said we'd just wait and see how it went in the morning. I showed Jill and Rob, and we did the "glass test". Usually, a rash will disappear if you press on it - this rash didn't. I still wasn't hugely concerned, as Charlie looked completely healthy, but the more I looked at it and thought about how dangerous meningococcal can be, I started to panic, as did John.
We decided to take him up to the hospital, expecting to be told everything was fine, and to be back in half an hour. Thankfully, our darling friends could stay with Alex and put him to bed until we got home. As we were walking to our car, I remembered our next door neighbour is a doctor, so we quickly ducked in. He looked at Charlie and said he looked fine, but it wouldn't hurt to get him checked out at the hospital.
As soon as we showed up at the emergency room and said our almost-nine week old had a non-blanching rash, they took us straight back into a room, and a paediatric doctor looked at him. Yet again, he said the rash is a concern, but he looks healthy, so most likely isn't meningococcal, but to take blood just in case.
So we got taken back into a pretty scary area, where they stripped off our bub, attached three heart monitor sticky things, a blood oxygen monitor to his foot, and then put a cannula in. I wish no one the agony of watching their tiny baby screaming while they get a needle shoved in their hand. Particularly when the first try didn't work and they had to try again in the other hand. Unpleasant, to the say the least.
The doctor was undecided about whether to give him antibiotics to cover all bases, but told us we'd most likely be here overnight for observation in any case. John called his parents to go and pick up Alex so our friends could go home, and we were ushered to the paediatric emergency room, where we sat and slept for the next five hours.
Finally, the paediatrician came, looked at his rash and again was very concerned, but put at ease by the fact he was laying there smiling. She wanted to play it safe, so Charlie was given a dose of antibiotics via his cannula, and we were taken to a ward at about 4:30am. There were no beds left in paediatrics, so we had to stay in the adolescent ward. There was a pull-out bed, thankfully, but only one of us could stay. I, having the boobs, won, and John headed home for a few hours of rest.
So we were pretty much stuck in Charlie's room, as he had to be isolated, and couldn't really have visitors, just in case. All of the doctors and nurses kept telling us they didn't think it was meningococcal, but they had to take the precaution. Another paediatrician saw Charlie about lunchtime, and decided he needed another dose of antibiotics at 3am the next morning, so another night in hospital was in order.
The meningococcal bacteria takes 48 hours to culture, so we couldn't get an answer until the next day, in any case. The doctors told us that it was most likely some random virus that was causing the rash, or some other bacteria, but the rash was starting to clear up, either of its own accord or because of the antibiotics.
I know I shouldn't say this, but I was so bored for the entire time we were in hospital. We could barely leave the room, Charlie was asleep for most of the time, and they didn't turn our tv on until the Sunday afternoon. I did many a crossword and sudoku. I probably wouldn't have been as bored if I hadn't guessed Charlie was completely fine and meningococcal free. But it was terrible being away from Alex for such a long time, and it was, quite frankly, incredibly boring.
Thankfully, on Monday, we were given permission to go home by Overly Officious Know-It-All Murse (we took to naming each of the nurses - he was our least favourite). The final meningococcal test wouldn't be complete until that night, but he'd had two doses of the antibiotics, so on the small chance the final test was positive, he wouldn't be infectious, and we'd just have to come back up to the hospital for more antibiotics.
So good to be home with both of my boys. The final test was of course negative. Charlie seems none the worse, other than two little bruises for the needles on his hands. Alex has been absolutely feral all week, possibly due to being separated from me and John for three nights. Hopefully that will stop soon. I have not had a fun week...
I am, however, very thankful, to be home with my two healthy little men.
Our friends, Jill & Rob and their two little girls, and Nikki, were over for dinner last Saturday night, so we could celebrate Rob finishing his internship and Nikki handing in the first draft of her masters thesis. We had barely eaten dinner when I was changing Charlie, and I spotted a purply rash on his leg. It hadn't been there when I'd last changed him, and it looked "not right". I brought him out to show John, and he said we'd just wait and see how it went in the morning. I showed Jill and Rob, and we did the "glass test". Usually, a rash will disappear if you press on it - this rash didn't. I still wasn't hugely concerned, as Charlie looked completely healthy, but the more I looked at it and thought about how dangerous meningococcal can be, I started to panic, as did John.
We decided to take him up to the hospital, expecting to be told everything was fine, and to be back in half an hour. Thankfully, our darling friends could stay with Alex and put him to bed until we got home. As we were walking to our car, I remembered our next door neighbour is a doctor, so we quickly ducked in. He looked at Charlie and said he looked fine, but it wouldn't hurt to get him checked out at the hospital.
As soon as we showed up at the emergency room and said our almost-nine week old had a non-blanching rash, they took us straight back into a room, and a paediatric doctor looked at him. Yet again, he said the rash is a concern, but he looks healthy, so most likely isn't meningococcal, but to take blood just in case.
So we got taken back into a pretty scary area, where they stripped off our bub, attached three heart monitor sticky things, a blood oxygen monitor to his foot, and then put a cannula in. I wish no one the agony of watching their tiny baby screaming while they get a needle shoved in their hand. Particularly when the first try didn't work and they had to try again in the other hand. Unpleasant, to the say the least.
The doctor was undecided about whether to give him antibiotics to cover all bases, but told us we'd most likely be here overnight for observation in any case. John called his parents to go and pick up Alex so our friends could go home, and we were ushered to the paediatric emergency room, where we sat and slept for the next five hours.
Finally, the paediatrician came, looked at his rash and again was very concerned, but put at ease by the fact he was laying there smiling. She wanted to play it safe, so Charlie was given a dose of antibiotics via his cannula, and we were taken to a ward at about 4:30am. There were no beds left in paediatrics, so we had to stay in the adolescent ward. There was a pull-out bed, thankfully, but only one of us could stay. I, having the boobs, won, and John headed home for a few hours of rest.
So we were pretty much stuck in Charlie's room, as he had to be isolated, and couldn't really have visitors, just in case. All of the doctors and nurses kept telling us they didn't think it was meningococcal, but they had to take the precaution. Another paediatrician saw Charlie about lunchtime, and decided he needed another dose of antibiotics at 3am the next morning, so another night in hospital was in order.
The meningococcal bacteria takes 48 hours to culture, so we couldn't get an answer until the next day, in any case. The doctors told us that it was most likely some random virus that was causing the rash, or some other bacteria, but the rash was starting to clear up, either of its own accord or because of the antibiotics.
Thankfully, on Monday, we were given permission to go home by Overly Officious Know-It-All Murse (we took to naming each of the nurses - he was our least favourite). The final meningococcal test wouldn't be complete until that night, but he'd had two doses of the antibiotics, so on the small chance the final test was positive, he wouldn't be infectious, and we'd just have to come back up to the hospital for more antibiotics.
So good to be home with both of my boys. The final test was of course negative. Charlie seems none the worse, other than two little bruises for the needles on his hands. Alex has been absolutely feral all week, possibly due to being separated from me and John for three nights. Hopefully that will stop soon. I have not had a fun week...
I am, however, very thankful, to be home with my two healthy little men.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Six months later...
So six months have passed...
We're now a family of four.
John has settled in at his new job, and absolutely loves it. Must love public service jobs.
It's our four year wedding anniversary tomorrow. That has gone particularly fast. We're celebrating on Friday instead of tomorrow, with a seafood bonanza. I'm going to go to the fisherman's co-op and buy scallops, and prawns, and oysters, and we'll cook them ourselves. If either of us could be bothered, we'd get some salmon and have some sashimi, but neither of us want to cut it up, or clean up the mess for that matter...
Alex is growing into such a lovely little man. He has his two and a half year old moments, which usually involve lots of high pitched screaming when things don't go his way, but he's generally pretty good. His speech is still not fabulous, but he can now count up to 20, or 30 with a little help, recognises numbers written up to 10 or so, can recognise almost every letter of the alphabet, knows all of his colours and shapes, and can recognise his name written down, so that's pretty cool. He's obsessed with Cars, and Lightning McQueen. He carries his Lightning McQueen car around with him everywhere, including bed. We've had some success toilet-training for the past week and a half, and he actually asks to go to the potty when he's wearing undies. Other days, he hates wearing undies and chucks a tanty if I don't put a nappy on, but I figure he won't be in nappies forever...
He's also starting lots of activities next term. Tuesdays, we're going back to playgroup. Fridays, we still do music at the Conservatorium. Saturdays, he's starting Korean language school, and Sundays, he does swimming lessons. I feel like we're hot-housing the poor child, but he loves doing different activities. He hasn't tried the Korean language classes yet, but hopefully we'll both learn a few words. We also have his name down for a spot at a day care or preschool as soon as possible, which I think he will love when he eventually gets a place.
Charlie is growing well, and is already well over 5kg at eight weeks. We're almost out of 000s and into 00s. He's absolutely gorgeous and so very placid. He has the cutest smile, and is starting to laugh and have little cooing chats with you. We're in the midst of planning his baptism in a month or two, which will also coincide with his 100 days birthday. He sleeps like an angel, and feeds like an angel. It feels so much easier this time. Probably because I know what I'm doing... I'm much better at sticking with the "feed, play, sleep" routine, and recognising tired signs. I've realised how set in having a routine I've become. I really need to relax a bit, I think.
We're now a family of four.
John has settled in at his new job, and absolutely loves it. Must love public service jobs.
It's our four year wedding anniversary tomorrow. That has gone particularly fast. We're celebrating on Friday instead of tomorrow, with a seafood bonanza. I'm going to go to the fisherman's co-op and buy scallops, and prawns, and oysters, and we'll cook them ourselves. If either of us could be bothered, we'd get some salmon and have some sashimi, but neither of us want to cut it up, or clean up the mess for that matter...
Alex is growing into such a lovely little man. He has his two and a half year old moments, which usually involve lots of high pitched screaming when things don't go his way, but he's generally pretty good. His speech is still not fabulous, but he can now count up to 20, or 30 with a little help, recognises numbers written up to 10 or so, can recognise almost every letter of the alphabet, knows all of his colours and shapes, and can recognise his name written down, so that's pretty cool. He's obsessed with Cars, and Lightning McQueen. He carries his Lightning McQueen car around with him everywhere, including bed. We've had some success toilet-training for the past week and a half, and he actually asks to go to the potty when he's wearing undies. Other days, he hates wearing undies and chucks a tanty if I don't put a nappy on, but I figure he won't be in nappies forever...
He's also starting lots of activities next term. Tuesdays, we're going back to playgroup. Fridays, we still do music at the Conservatorium. Saturdays, he's starting Korean language school, and Sundays, he does swimming lessons. I feel like we're hot-housing the poor child, but he loves doing different activities. He hasn't tried the Korean language classes yet, but hopefully we'll both learn a few words. We also have his name down for a spot at a day care or preschool as soon as possible, which I think he will love when he eventually gets a place.
Charlie is growing well, and is already well over 5kg at eight weeks. We're almost out of 000s and into 00s. He's absolutely gorgeous and so very placid. He has the cutest smile, and is starting to laugh and have little cooing chats with you. We're in the midst of planning his baptism in a month or two, which will also coincide with his 100 days birthday. He sleeps like an angel, and feeds like an angel. It feels so much easier this time. Probably because I know what I'm doing... I'm much better at sticking with the "feed, play, sleep" routine, and recognising tired signs. I've realised how set in having a routine I've become. I really need to relax a bit, I think.
Charlie Xavier
Our gorgeous little man, Charlie Xavier, was born on 11 May, at 4:20pm, weighing 3.7kg, and 52cm long.
Charlie had been very quiet in my tummy for the few days before. The day before, I'd had my midwife visit and mentioned that he hadn't been moving much, if at all, and she popped me on the monitor, and of course, Charlie, started kicking again. My midwife, Susie, saw how uncomfortable I was and offered me a stretch and sweep, which I happily accepted. It did nothing really, that I noticed, but later that day, I felt a gush, which I chose to ignore, because that's what I do. There was definitely some dodgy looking discharge in my undies, which I chose to ignore, attributing it to the stretch and sweep.
Charlie didn't move all day, except for one big kick at dinner that night, and by 3am, I'd barely slept. I was worried about Charlie not moving, and was increasingly disturbed by the ongoing discharge. I started googling, which is always a stellar idea at 3am, and convinced myself my waters had broken, and they were meconium stained.
I woke John and asked if we should call Susie, which he agreed we should. Susie told us to come up to this hospital just to check things out. So we called John's mum to come over to look after Alex, and got to the hospital about 4am. When Susie arrived, she popped me on the monitor, and of course, Charlie started moving again, and checked out the discharge situation, which she agreed definitely looked like my waters had broken, and were in fact meconium stained. My blood pressure was also up to 140/90.
A "junior doctor" came in to check, and we agreed that I should be induced as soon as possible, so she set about popping a cannula in my arm. I've had cannulas before, but apparently the one you need when you're being induced is the size of a frigging hose, and hurts like a bandit to put in. Miss Junior Doctor had two goes, and eventually got the hose in, took some blood, then went to consult with her supervising doctor.
A few minutes later, Supervising Doctor came in and said, no she didn't think my waters had broken, the baby is moving on the monitor, so I didn't need to be induced, I can go home, and to come back in two days to get my blood pressure checked. Basically, I'm healthy, the baby is healthy, there was no reason to induce. We just had to wait around for an hour or two for the blood test results, to make sure everything was all good. Two hours later, around 10am, they removed the cannula and we were on our way.
About five seconds after paying $10 for parking, Susie called and asked if we'd left yet. The senior obstetrician had looked at my file and wanted to review it before I left. By this time, there was absolutely no parking, so we had to drive around the hospital for 15 minutes before Susie called and asked me to come back up to the delivery suite. The senior obstetrician had decided that I was full term, I'm healthy, the baby's healthy, there was no reason NOT to induce. Research shows that in cases of stillbirth, the mother has felt the bub stop moving in the 24 to 48 hours prior, so they decided to avoid a potential law suit and induce me.
John couldn't find a park, so he had to drop me off, and then ended up driving back to his mum's, and she drove him back. As soon as she got there, they broke my waters, which was somewhat disgusting. Turns out they hadn't broken before, and were not meconium stained...
Anyway, contractions kicked in after that. John and I went for a walk and grabbed some banana bread and gatorade, and went back up to the delivery suite after an hour, waiting for labour to establish. Two hours later, contractions were still quite irregular, so I had to have another cannula put in, which also took another two tries, and had the synctoconin drip.
I know that walking around and being active is better for bringing on labour, and getting bub downwards, but by that point I was totally exhausted, and really only had the energy to lie on the bed, and ride out the contractions. They got more and more regular, but still not intense enough, so the midwife kept pumping up the drip.
A few hours later, I was no longer able to breathe through the contractions, and was in intense pain. A lot more intense than my contractions with Alex. I could only really cry through them, which is so pathetic. The midwife did an internal and said I was only seven cm dilated. It felt like two contractions later, I needed to push. I had no choice but to push. I didn't even realise I was pushing out the baby. The two midwives kept trying to get me to turn onto all fours or kneel, but I was in so much pain, I could only roll on to my side.
Ten minutes later, our little muffin was born. He went straight onto my chest, covered in all matter of bodily fluids, and was so gorgeous. Exactly like his big brother. It was almost like deja vu.
I had the oxytocin injection to hurry up birthing the placenta, and a few minutes later, we had a lotus birth. Apparently. Our midwife was slightly authoritarian (not Susie, she'd had to go home earlier), and made John cut the cord. Charlie attached and started feeding straight away, which was a relief after the breastfeeding hell I had with Alex.
About 20 hours later, we took our new little man home, and he's been an angel ever since. Alex adores him. He rarely cries. He settles himself to sleep. He feeds so easily. He's even started only waking once during the night. He settles himself to sleep at about 7 or 7:30, wakes at about 3 for feed, then wakes at about 6. It's freaking awesome.
So now our little family is settling in. It's pretty easy so far, but I'm prepared for the wheels to fall off at any point, and that's ok...
Charlie had been very quiet in my tummy for the few days before. The day before, I'd had my midwife visit and mentioned that he hadn't been moving much, if at all, and she popped me on the monitor, and of course, Charlie, started kicking again. My midwife, Susie, saw how uncomfortable I was and offered me a stretch and sweep, which I happily accepted. It did nothing really, that I noticed, but later that day, I felt a gush, which I chose to ignore, because that's what I do. There was definitely some dodgy looking discharge in my undies, which I chose to ignore, attributing it to the stretch and sweep.
Charlie didn't move all day, except for one big kick at dinner that night, and by 3am, I'd barely slept. I was worried about Charlie not moving, and was increasingly disturbed by the ongoing discharge. I started googling, which is always a stellar idea at 3am, and convinced myself my waters had broken, and they were meconium stained.
I woke John and asked if we should call Susie, which he agreed we should. Susie told us to come up to this hospital just to check things out. So we called John's mum to come over to look after Alex, and got to the hospital about 4am. When Susie arrived, she popped me on the monitor, and of course, Charlie started moving again, and checked out the discharge situation, which she agreed definitely looked like my waters had broken, and were in fact meconium stained. My blood pressure was also up to 140/90.
A "junior doctor" came in to check, and we agreed that I should be induced as soon as possible, so she set about popping a cannula in my arm. I've had cannulas before, but apparently the one you need when you're being induced is the size of a frigging hose, and hurts like a bandit to put in. Miss Junior Doctor had two goes, and eventually got the hose in, took some blood, then went to consult with her supervising doctor.
A few minutes later, Supervising Doctor came in and said, no she didn't think my waters had broken, the baby is moving on the monitor, so I didn't need to be induced, I can go home, and to come back in two days to get my blood pressure checked. Basically, I'm healthy, the baby is healthy, there was no reason to induce. We just had to wait around for an hour or two for the blood test results, to make sure everything was all good. Two hours later, around 10am, they removed the cannula and we were on our way.
About five seconds after paying $10 for parking, Susie called and asked if we'd left yet. The senior obstetrician had looked at my file and wanted to review it before I left. By this time, there was absolutely no parking, so we had to drive around the hospital for 15 minutes before Susie called and asked me to come back up to the delivery suite. The senior obstetrician had decided that I was full term, I'm healthy, the baby's healthy, there was no reason NOT to induce. Research shows that in cases of stillbirth, the mother has felt the bub stop moving in the 24 to 48 hours prior, so they decided to avoid a potential law suit and induce me.
John couldn't find a park, so he had to drop me off, and then ended up driving back to his mum's, and she drove him back. As soon as she got there, they broke my waters, which was somewhat disgusting. Turns out they hadn't broken before, and were not meconium stained...
Anyway, contractions kicked in after that. John and I went for a walk and grabbed some banana bread and gatorade, and went back up to the delivery suite after an hour, waiting for labour to establish. Two hours later, contractions were still quite irregular, so I had to have another cannula put in, which also took another two tries, and had the synctoconin drip.
I know that walking around and being active is better for bringing on labour, and getting bub downwards, but by that point I was totally exhausted, and really only had the energy to lie on the bed, and ride out the contractions. They got more and more regular, but still not intense enough, so the midwife kept pumping up the drip.
A few hours later, I was no longer able to breathe through the contractions, and was in intense pain. A lot more intense than my contractions with Alex. I could only really cry through them, which is so pathetic. The midwife did an internal and said I was only seven cm dilated. It felt like two contractions later, I needed to push. I had no choice but to push. I didn't even realise I was pushing out the baby. The two midwives kept trying to get me to turn onto all fours or kneel, but I was in so much pain, I could only roll on to my side.
Ten minutes later, our little muffin was born. He went straight onto my chest, covered in all matter of bodily fluids, and was so gorgeous. Exactly like his big brother. It was almost like deja vu.
I had the oxytocin injection to hurry up birthing the placenta, and a few minutes later, we had a lotus birth. Apparently. Our midwife was slightly authoritarian (not Susie, she'd had to go home earlier), and made John cut the cord. Charlie attached and started feeding straight away, which was a relief after the breastfeeding hell I had with Alex.
About 20 hours later, we took our new little man home, and he's been an angel ever since. Alex adores him. He rarely cries. He settles himself to sleep. He feeds so easily. He's even started only waking once during the night. He settles himself to sleep at about 7 or 7:30, wakes at about 3 for feed, then wakes at about 6. It's freaking awesome.
So now our little family is settling in. It's pretty easy so far, but I'm prepared for the wheels to fall off at any point, and that's ok...
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Happy New Year!
So there are three minutes left of the first day of the first month of 2011. John and I have been a couple for six years today. Three minutes until Alex's 2nd birthday.
We've had an intense few weeks. My Pop passed away last week. It was hardly a shock, being his recent hospitalisation, but so sad nonetheless, particularly for my beautiful Nanna. He has been quite sick for a while, probably a lot sicker than he let on, and after a fall at home, he was admitted to hospital with blood pressure of 85/80. Within a few days, it was pretty clear he wasn't going to be leaving the hospital. A few days before he passed away, Mum called and said he didn't have much time left. Dad called us even later that night to say they didn't expect him to last the night. He did, of course, and John and I went down the next afternoon to veritably say our goodbyes.
I think I was prepared for the worst more than others, considering the updates we had been receiving, so I wasn't too shocked to see his appearance, barely conscious. He could barely talk, but he seemed fairly lucid when we were there. He wasn't able to eat at the point, however, and wasn't attached to a drip, so it was a matter of time until he slowly fell into a coma and slipped away. Two days, two days before Christmas, he did.
To be honest, I didn't cry until the funeral. I think I was prepared for it to happen for a while, it was almost a relief that he was at peace finally. We spent Christmas day and Boxing day with our family, doing the best we could to support each other. Nanna is obviously devastated. My Mum, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, aren't much better.
My Nan and Pop and their four kids...
This was my third funeral, and quite different to the others. My first was Baby Lucas, which was completely devastating on a different level. We had no real memories of interacting with Baby Lucas, but were grieving lost possibilities for our friends' darling little boy. We had a lifetime of memories of Pop, but his death after such a long illness and a full and happy life was sad in a different way.
We'll all miss him, and I'm so sad that Alex won't get to know his great-grandfather better, or that Pop never got to meet his next great-grandson.
Besides the above, I finally adjusted to being the Mummy of two little boys, and am quite looking forward to it all now. I still have the occasional pang, but as we get closer and my belly gets bigger, I am much more excited. One unfortunate thing is that the placenta is at the front of my belly, which means I rarely feel any kicks from bub. I enjoy the few that come through though. Still, I'm only 21 weeks now, so I imagine even with the placenta at the front, I'll start feeling more kicks soon.
We had Day One of Alex's 2nd birthday celebrations today. I really couldn't be bothered organising a birthday party for Alex this year, and John and I decided his next big birthday party can be when he turns five. So instead, we somehow ended up with three different celebrations, which probably add up to the same amount of work one big one would have... We celebrated with my family today, at Mum and Dad's house, with a swim in the pool. Very appreciated in the 39 degree heat today. I just made a simple butter cake with ready-made icing, and an edible Thomas the Tank Engine thing on top. Lazy, but delicious and efficient.
Tomorrow we have afternoon tea in King Edward Park with our friends, and all associated children. I haven't organised a thing for that yet, but luckily, we have a few things left over from today that can be taken. The next day, we're celebrating with John's family, probably at their house. John's hoping to organise some sashimi, which is great for the pregnant lady. I expect a big plate of sashimi to be included in the hamper I expect to be prepared for me post-birth of this baby.
We had a nice quiet New Years Eve last night. We had been invited to two different gatherings, but due to Alex, decided to stay home. My sister Kel is up this week, so she ended up joining us, and we played Scrabble until midnight, and ate chocolate. Not very exciting, but enjoyable, regardless.
I'm looking forward to catching up with our friends tomorrow, especially my dear Nikki, Alex's godmummy. We seem to have a co-ordination issue when it comes to seeing each other, but we do seem to manage a catch-up at least every two months or so. Two of our friends are also expecting their first baby about three or four weeks before this little one is due, also a boy, which will be lovely. We have developed a lovely little "mothers group" of sorts now, and have a set time of catching up and letting our kids "play". Amber and Alex are the eldest, at two, then Luke, almost one, Tahlia, seven months, and Lily, at four months. It's easy to get caught up in your own life with little ones, and it's easy to go a long time without seeing good friends. Even though we've all known each other for yonks (Jill and I were housemates for two years, as well as each other's bridesmaids), unless we set a time, we can go weeks or even months without seeing each other. Plus, it's lovely to see our children grow up together, and talk about all of the delightful ups and downs of motherhood.
So I'm well and truly into Alex's birthday now, so I should go to bed so I can actually get up and organise and cook tomorrow morning. I just keep thinking, ooh, two years ago today, I was in labour, but didn't realise... Gosh I hope it's like that again this time.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
So we had our scan this morning. It's a little brother for Alex. I know I should be over the moon that our baby is healthy and all in one piece. But I'm devastated. I can't stop crying. I can't believe I'm never going to have a daughter. This is my family. Me and my three boys. No adorable pink dresses in this house. No baby ballet lessons. No taking my daughter wedding dress shopping. Picking out a formal dress. No fairy wings. I've put aside one of my old dolls in the hope we'd have a girl, and now I just feel like throwing it in the bin.
I am insanely jealous of both of my sisters and my friends that have little girls right now. I just finished sewing a Christmas dress for my niece, and am so envious that I'll never get to sew one for my own baby girl.
When I got home, I thought I can just put on some trashy tv and zone out, but I'm up to season of Friends where Ross and Rachel have a GIRL, Gilmore Girls would just be cruel to watch. Every show has some reminder that I'll never have a girl.
Being the good Christian girl that I am, I started praying for a daughter as soon as I gave birth to Alex. I prayed every day, every time I thought about it, for eighteen months. I keep trying to tell myself that God obviously wants me to be the mother of boys for some reason, and considering how much I prayed and still got the other, it must be a pretty special reason. It just doesn't give me any comfort right now.
I want to feel excited about this baby. When Alex wakes up from his nap, we'll go to the shops and I'll buy the cutest boy outfit I can find.
I knew I would be disappointed if I found out it was a boy, I just didn't expect to feel this bad. I figured I'd be a little sad for half an hour, then back to excited. Granted it's only been five hours, but I've pretty much been in tears for four and a half of those. My head hurts. I'm dreading people's comments. People telling me I should be grateful he's healthy. Of course I am. I'm not stupid, I know how lucky we are to have one healthy child, let alone another on the way. Anything anyone could say to me is just going to break my heart at the moment, whether they're trying to make me feel better or not. I don't want to talk to or see anyone except John and Alex.
The annoying thing is that we did everything we could to get a girl. I did the "girl diet", the timing, anything we could think of. John suggested we don't rule out having a third, but I figure being that we did everything "girlish" this time and still got a boy, there's no point trying again. Besides, I would only ever have a third if it was the right thing for my family, and I was happy to have either gender, and that wouldn't be the case. We've always said two kids. My whole life, I assumed they would be girls.
Yeeaccchhhh, I now have to prepare myself for acting super excited to everyone that asks what we're having. Maybe I'll just tell people we didn't find out so they don't say anything.
I know I'll feel better soon. I just need to vent. Nothing anyone says will make me feel better at the moment, I just need time to feel better by myself. I know as soon as the baby's born, I won't be able to imagine him any other way, and I can't wait for that. For now, I'll just avoid anything baby girl related, and try and get in the spirit of some beautiful baby boy nesting. Maybe go through some of Alex's old clothes and photos, and remember how lucky I am.
I am insanely jealous of both of my sisters and my friends that have little girls right now. I just finished sewing a Christmas dress for my niece, and am so envious that I'll never get to sew one for my own baby girl.
When I got home, I thought I can just put on some trashy tv and zone out, but I'm up to season of Friends where Ross and Rachel have a GIRL, Gilmore Girls would just be cruel to watch. Every show has some reminder that I'll never have a girl.
Being the good Christian girl that I am, I started praying for a daughter as soon as I gave birth to Alex. I prayed every day, every time I thought about it, for eighteen months. I keep trying to tell myself that God obviously wants me to be the mother of boys for some reason, and considering how much I prayed and still got the other, it must be a pretty special reason. It just doesn't give me any comfort right now.
I want to feel excited about this baby. When Alex wakes up from his nap, we'll go to the shops and I'll buy the cutest boy outfit I can find.
I knew I would be disappointed if I found out it was a boy, I just didn't expect to feel this bad. I figured I'd be a little sad for half an hour, then back to excited. Granted it's only been five hours, but I've pretty much been in tears for four and a half of those. My head hurts. I'm dreading people's comments. People telling me I should be grateful he's healthy. Of course I am. I'm not stupid, I know how lucky we are to have one healthy child, let alone another on the way. Anything anyone could say to me is just going to break my heart at the moment, whether they're trying to make me feel better or not. I don't want to talk to or see anyone except John and Alex.
The annoying thing is that we did everything we could to get a girl. I did the "girl diet", the timing, anything we could think of. John suggested we don't rule out having a third, but I figure being that we did everything "girlish" this time and still got a boy, there's no point trying again. Besides, I would only ever have a third if it was the right thing for my family, and I was happy to have either gender, and that wouldn't be the case. We've always said two kids. My whole life, I assumed they would be girls.
Yeeaccchhhh, I now have to prepare myself for acting super excited to everyone that asks what we're having. Maybe I'll just tell people we didn't find out so they don't say anything.
I know I'll feel better soon. I just need to vent. Nothing anyone says will make me feel better at the moment, I just need time to feel better by myself. I know as soon as the baby's born, I won't be able to imagine him any other way, and I can't wait for that. For now, I'll just avoid anything baby girl related, and try and get in the spirit of some beautiful baby boy nesting. Maybe go through some of Alex's old clothes and photos, and remember how lucky I am.
Stupid early mornings...
So far some reason when I'm pregnant, I wake up ridiculously early in the morning and can't go back to sleep. It's presently 5:20am and I've already been up for an hour. Not cool...
I'm quite excited, we have our morphology scan this morning, and we can finally find out if this bub is a boy or a girl. I'll be honest and say I have my heart set on a girl. I've already warned those closest to me that if the scan does reveal another boy, I will be disappointed, I will cry, and I'll need a little while to adjust to the idea that I'll never have a daughter. It doesn't mean that I would love said boy any less, it's just a matter of readjusting how you pictured your life.
When I picture having a family with John and two boys, I feel a little lonely. I remember growing up as one of three girls, and even though we did fight (and still do), we used to have so much fun together. And even though Mum and I didn't get along while I was a teenager, we still had our moments that made it worth it. And we're so close now, I think it makes up for it. I found a picture not long ago of Mum and Kel doing each other's hair, and it made me realise how much I would miss having that "girly" relationship within my own family. I am in many respects the girliest girl, and the thought of having a life revolving around sport, cars, dirt, noise, blue, testosterone, and so forth... it feels lonely.
Having said that, I do actually like some sport, I love how noisy Alex is, and how much fun I have with him, and two such little creatures would still be divine. Who's to say that a "girly" relationship would develop with my daughter? She might hate pink. She might hate ballet. She might hate everything that I love doing. She might never want to get married or have children. In either case, girl or boy, I'll love this child more than anything.
Other interesting happenings... John got a new job! His last day at his present work is next week, the day before Christmas eve, then he has a month off to spend with us, then starting new job late January. His new job has a 40 hour week, with NO OVERTIME, and if he does do any, he actually gets paid for it. And handsomely. Perfect for him. Even now he's winding down at his job, and not having to bring work home every night, and work weekends, he said he's starting to feel the tension dissipate. 'Twill be nice to have a happy non-stressed husband again.
The thing that impresses me about his job hunting is how employable my husband is. His recruitment agent tells him he's one of the most marketable accountants around. And he hasn't even finished studying. Even though he was the last "interviewee" for this job, he still managed to get it, even though it asked for someone with their CA or CPA. He's just so good at his job. It impresses me.
He also managed to pull another distinction out of his ass for his last module for his CPA. He's now halfway through, with no fails. The man's a wonder. This current exam took place while working 60-70 hour weeks, having done a half-assed three days of study, taking care of me with morning sickness, and his toddler. And he still managed to get a distinction.
Should probably try and rest before Alex wakes up...
I'm quite excited, we have our morphology scan this morning, and we can finally find out if this bub is a boy or a girl. I'll be honest and say I have my heart set on a girl. I've already warned those closest to me that if the scan does reveal another boy, I will be disappointed, I will cry, and I'll need a little while to adjust to the idea that I'll never have a daughter. It doesn't mean that I would love said boy any less, it's just a matter of readjusting how you pictured your life.
When I picture having a family with John and two boys, I feel a little lonely. I remember growing up as one of three girls, and even though we did fight (and still do), we used to have so much fun together. And even though Mum and I didn't get along while I was a teenager, we still had our moments that made it worth it. And we're so close now, I think it makes up for it. I found a picture not long ago of Mum and Kel doing each other's hair, and it made me realise how much I would miss having that "girly" relationship within my own family. I am in many respects the girliest girl, and the thought of having a life revolving around sport, cars, dirt, noise, blue, testosterone, and so forth... it feels lonely.
Having said that, I do actually like some sport, I love how noisy Alex is, and how much fun I have with him, and two such little creatures would still be divine. Who's to say that a "girly" relationship would develop with my daughter? She might hate pink. She might hate ballet. She might hate everything that I love doing. She might never want to get married or have children. In either case, girl or boy, I'll love this child more than anything.
Other interesting happenings... John got a new job! His last day at his present work is next week, the day before Christmas eve, then he has a month off to spend with us, then starting new job late January. His new job has a 40 hour week, with NO OVERTIME, and if he does do any, he actually gets paid for it. And handsomely. Perfect for him. Even now he's winding down at his job, and not having to bring work home every night, and work weekends, he said he's starting to feel the tension dissipate. 'Twill be nice to have a happy non-stressed husband again.
The thing that impresses me about his job hunting is how employable my husband is. His recruitment agent tells him he's one of the most marketable accountants around. And he hasn't even finished studying. Even though he was the last "interviewee" for this job, he still managed to get it, even though it asked for someone with their CA or CPA. He's just so good at his job. It impresses me.
He also managed to pull another distinction out of his ass for his last module for his CPA. He's now halfway through, with no fails. The man's a wonder. This current exam took place while working 60-70 hour weeks, having done a half-assed three days of study, taking care of me with morning sickness, and his toddler. And he still managed to get a distinction.
Should probably try and rest before Alex wakes up...
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The Family Update
Sooo, I'm a slacker who couldn't be bothered writing anything for ages. So here's what's been happening in the family of late...
We're expecting bub #2! Due date is presently 11 May next year, but I think it may a few days earlier than that. We had a nuchal translucency scan last week, and everything was great. So comforting to go to that twelve week scan and see a heart beat. We'd ended up having a dating scan around six weeks, due to some crazy cycles, but we couldn't see much back then. My belly has already grown quite noticeably, so I was also fairly sure things were still growing quite well. Disturbing as it is to have an obvious baby belly at nine or ten weeks, let alone fourteen.
I haven't particularly enjoyed this pregnancy much thus far, but things are turning around now. My morning sickness was much milder this time around than with Alex. I only really vomited twice from morning sickness, as opposed to chucking up in the basin in the bathroom at work every morning. I never seemed to make it to the toilet... I did pick up a horrid cold about a fortnight ago which has made me start vomiting daily again, but it's not so much morning sickness as an abundance of phlegm that motivates my presently sensitive gag reflex.
However, the constant nausea and tiredness really took it out of me. The tiredness is still getting me, but that's probably due to having an almost-two-year-old more than anything. I started feeling sick around the four week mark, and it was demoralising to have my dating scan and be given a date four days later than I'd predicted. That meant four extra days of feeling like that. I almost cried at the time. Morning sickness got me down to the point where I had no joy or excitement about being pregnant. I was terrified half the time of something going wrong, physically drained and just miserable. I wouldn't go so far as to say prenatal depression, but it wouldn't have been far off it. I knew I'd feel chirpier once I had a bit of energy back, and glad to say, since last Thursday, I'm almost back to me. Much more excited about having another baby now.
Not that I have changed my mind as to this being our last baby. Boy or girl, I'm not doing this again.
We see our midwife for the first time tomorrow, so looking forward to that. We liked our midwife with Alex, but she doesn't do the group midwife program anymore, so we have someone new. We're not too fussed, as long as she isn't too tree-hugging, as some of the other group midwives tended to be.
I was actually keen to use an OB and go to the private hospital this time around, mostly due to my Dad's povvo experience at the John Hunter, where they made him wait three days for an operation, without any food or water in that time. His veins were collapsing by the time they were trying to put a drip in so he didn't, you know, die and stuff. The doctors were basically begging us to go to the media so they could draw attention to the administration problems there, but I guess Mum & Dad couldn't be bothered after he finally got his operations. (He needed two in the end because they left him for so long.)
Anyway, John wasn't too keen on the private system being that we had such a positive experience with Alex, so we're going through the birthing centre, using the group midwifery system, where we see the same midwife the whole way through, and she will (theoretically) be there to deliver the baby. We still get a private room at the John Hunter anyway, so not too fussed on the accommodation. Alex's birth was so easy, drug-free and positive, I can only hope it's the same this time.
Besides pregnancy stuff, things have been pretty busy around here. John has been absolutely flat-out with his work the last few months, after being promoted to business analyst, but still doing financial accountant role at the same time until they find someone to replace him. He literally works almost every day, including weekends, until 11pm. The past few months have been tough on both of us, with my morning sickness and his excessive work hours, we haven't had time to be there much for each other. We got through it though. I'm at least feeling human enough to clean the house and cook dinner now, so he doesn't have to come home after a hard day to a pig-sty, a miserable wife and a hungry son.
Alex is growing up fast. Almost two. We started toilet-training today. I guess. I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know if Alex is quite ready yet, so I'm not being too hardcore about it. He wore undies for the first time today anyway. He sat on the toilet a few times, but he didn't quite hit the toilet with the wee. He did hit the floor once, the high chair twice, and his nappy during his nap. But I guess we have to start somewhere. Maybe I should google how on earth I'm supposed to toilet train a boy.
His speech hasn't progressed a huge amount, but John and I noticed the other week that some words he has trouble with, he actually inhales rather than exhales, so we're going to make an appointment to see our lovely nurse at our GP and possibly get a referral to a speech pathologist. He understands almost everything you say now. When he feels like it. When Mummy says "sit on your bottom" when he's running along the lounge, sometimes, he doesn't quite get that one... Much more fun to run to the corner giggling at Mummy.
He's a good boy though. Very few hissy fits. His major one is when we go to Westfield, and he finds his way into Kid Central where they have a Thomas the Tank Engine set up, which he'll happily play with for hours if we let him, but as soon as we try to leave to store, he chucks a gigantic tanty. Kind of embarrassing. Luckily, if you then head up the top floor of Borders with the kids books, it distracts him enough to calm him down.
Through some kind of osmosis, he now loves anything Thomas, even though he only saw the show for the first time last week. He sleeps with a Thomas shape sorter until I take it out after he falls asleep, but then when he wakes up in the morning, he cries out for it again. He was obsessed with a pink car for a week or two, but John's glad he's moved on now.
So I'm sure other stuff has been happening, but my burst of energy has depleted and it's time to sleep!
We're expecting bub #2! Due date is presently 11 May next year, but I think it may a few days earlier than that. We had a nuchal translucency scan last week, and everything was great. So comforting to go to that twelve week scan and see a heart beat. We'd ended up having a dating scan around six weeks, due to some crazy cycles, but we couldn't see much back then. My belly has already grown quite noticeably, so I was also fairly sure things were still growing quite well. Disturbing as it is to have an obvious baby belly at nine or ten weeks, let alone fourteen.
I haven't particularly enjoyed this pregnancy much thus far, but things are turning around now. My morning sickness was much milder this time around than with Alex. I only really vomited twice from morning sickness, as opposed to chucking up in the basin in the bathroom at work every morning. I never seemed to make it to the toilet... I did pick up a horrid cold about a fortnight ago which has made me start vomiting daily again, but it's not so much morning sickness as an abundance of phlegm that motivates my presently sensitive gag reflex.
However, the constant nausea and tiredness really took it out of me. The tiredness is still getting me, but that's probably due to having an almost-two-year-old more than anything. I started feeling sick around the four week mark, and it was demoralising to have my dating scan and be given a date four days later than I'd predicted. That meant four extra days of feeling like that. I almost cried at the time. Morning sickness got me down to the point where I had no joy or excitement about being pregnant. I was terrified half the time of something going wrong, physically drained and just miserable. I wouldn't go so far as to say prenatal depression, but it wouldn't have been far off it. I knew I'd feel chirpier once I had a bit of energy back, and glad to say, since last Thursday, I'm almost back to me. Much more excited about having another baby now.
Not that I have changed my mind as to this being our last baby. Boy or girl, I'm not doing this again.
We see our midwife for the first time tomorrow, so looking forward to that. We liked our midwife with Alex, but she doesn't do the group midwife program anymore, so we have someone new. We're not too fussed, as long as she isn't too tree-hugging, as some of the other group midwives tended to be.
I was actually keen to use an OB and go to the private hospital this time around, mostly due to my Dad's povvo experience at the John Hunter, where they made him wait three days for an operation, without any food or water in that time. His veins were collapsing by the time they were trying to put a drip in so he didn't, you know, die and stuff. The doctors were basically begging us to go to the media so they could draw attention to the administration problems there, but I guess Mum & Dad couldn't be bothered after he finally got his operations. (He needed two in the end because they left him for so long.)
Anyway, John wasn't too keen on the private system being that we had such a positive experience with Alex, so we're going through the birthing centre, using the group midwifery system, where we see the same midwife the whole way through, and she will (theoretically) be there to deliver the baby. We still get a private room at the John Hunter anyway, so not too fussed on the accommodation. Alex's birth was so easy, drug-free and positive, I can only hope it's the same this time.
Besides pregnancy stuff, things have been pretty busy around here. John has been absolutely flat-out with his work the last few months, after being promoted to business analyst, but still doing financial accountant role at the same time until they find someone to replace him. He literally works almost every day, including weekends, until 11pm. The past few months have been tough on both of us, with my morning sickness and his excessive work hours, we haven't had time to be there much for each other. We got through it though. I'm at least feeling human enough to clean the house and cook dinner now, so he doesn't have to come home after a hard day to a pig-sty, a miserable wife and a hungry son.
Alex is growing up fast. Almost two. We started toilet-training today. I guess. I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know if Alex is quite ready yet, so I'm not being too hardcore about it. He wore undies for the first time today anyway. He sat on the toilet a few times, but he didn't quite hit the toilet with the wee. He did hit the floor once, the high chair twice, and his nappy during his nap. But I guess we have to start somewhere. Maybe I should google how on earth I'm supposed to toilet train a boy.
His speech hasn't progressed a huge amount, but John and I noticed the other week that some words he has trouble with, he actually inhales rather than exhales, so we're going to make an appointment to see our lovely nurse at our GP and possibly get a referral to a speech pathologist. He understands almost everything you say now. When he feels like it. When Mummy says "sit on your bottom" when he's running along the lounge, sometimes, he doesn't quite get that one... Much more fun to run to the corner giggling at Mummy.
He's a good boy though. Very few hissy fits. His major one is when we go to Westfield, and he finds his way into Kid Central where they have a Thomas the Tank Engine set up, which he'll happily play with for hours if we let him, but as soon as we try to leave to store, he chucks a gigantic tanty. Kind of embarrassing. Luckily, if you then head up the top floor of Borders with the kids books, it distracts him enough to calm him down.
Through some kind of osmosis, he now loves anything Thomas, even though he only saw the show for the first time last week. He sleeps with a Thomas shape sorter until I take it out after he falls asleep, but then when he wakes up in the morning, he cries out for it again. He was obsessed with a pink car for a week or two, but John's glad he's moved on now.
So I'm sure other stuff has been happening, but my burst of energy has depleted and it's time to sleep!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Our NZ Trip
So John and I both turned 30 this year. Horrifying in itself that our twenties have gone, but as an amazing 30th present to us, John's parents gave us a trip to NZ! We didn't have a huge amount of time, with John's work, and we were concerned about extended travelling with Alex at just over 18 months, so we went on a six day trip to the North Island in July. It was absolutely amazing, beautiful, and exhausting. Mostly due to Alex lack of willingness to sleep in any bed besides his cot. Which meant he shared a bed with John and me for the week, and we sang Rock a Bye Baby over and over until 10pm, after which John and I feel asleep while Alex was still up.
We still got to see quite a lot, obviously not as much as we would have without Alex. We spent most of the time based in Rotarua, then two nights in Auckland. Auckland was disappointing. Kind of a poor man's Sydney. Without the bridge. Or anything to see or do.
Rotarua, on the other hand, was a great pick. It is basically the centre of Maori culture, as well as basically built on geothermal land. We also went to the glow-worm caves from there, which we all loved. So amazing to sit in a boat silently floating in a pitch black cave with thousands of tiny glow-worms twinkling above you. Until they tell you it's actually the excrement of the insects that actually glows. But still...
So photos...
We got to Auckland fairly late on the first day. I'd actually had a job interview the day before down in Sydney, so we stayed the night at my aunt's house, and my cousin Lisa skipped uni to take up to the airport in the morning. Four hour flight was a great length for Alex's first flight. Took us a while to find the hire car and fit Alex's car seat in the torrential rain (would it be that much of a hassle for the hire company to do this for you??). Alex was pretty good on the plane. He'd had an ear infection the week before so we'd worried about his ears, but he was fine. Planes are "birrs", so he was quite fascinated by the airport. Drove the three hours-ish to Rotarua, checked in to the apartment, which, by the way, was fabulous for what we were paying. Probably because it was about 100 m from the thermal village and absolutely reeked as soon as you walked out the door.
Geothermal activity means sulfur. Sulfur smells like rotten eggs. Every time I walked out the door, it seemed to slap me across the face. John adjusted apparently. We did, however, refer to Rotarua as "where the Earth farts".
First day in Rotarua, we went to Lady Knox geyser. Twas quite the geyser.
Then to some mud pools.
We tried our first of several unsuccessful attempts at the local cuisine that night. Perhaps we were just unlucky, but we found the food in Rotarua was shite. To put it politely. The best meals we had were meals from the supermarket prepared in our apartment.
Next day, we started with a tour of Whakarewarewa, which was the thermal village up the street from our apartments. That was pretty amazing. It's a living thermal village, which means the native Maori inhabitants still live there. The tour guide didn't actually live in the village but was a descendant of the tribe. It was kind of weird to tour around people's actual houses, but they seemed to not mind. Most of them seemed to be involved in the "touristy" side of the village, performing in the cultural show (everyone loves a haka), and the like.
The tour guide explained the village such that the village is the "house" of the people living there, and their individual houses were their bedrooms. Cooking, washing, cleaning, eating, were all done in communal areas. The thermal waters were used for power, for their cooking, and for bathing. The waters were amazingly blue and clear. And 100 degrees Celsius. We ate our lunch there, eating some food that had been cooked in the thermal waters. (And a coke).
That afternoon, we thermalled it up again and went to the Polynesian Spa. That was awesome. We decided to splash out a bit, and paid for a private deluxe spa for half an hour, and it was divine. We had this amazing view over Lake Rotarua, and could swim in the nud if we wanted to. I hired swimmers (who packs swimmers for NZ in July), but did end up going in the nud. You only live once. Alex absolutely loved this as well, with the bath-warm water in the open air, swimming with Mummy & Daddy, and birds flying overhead. Probably our favourite activity of the trip.
Next day was Glow-Worm Cave day. We went through the Ruakuri cave, as well as the actual glow-worm cave. Ruakuri cave had glow-worms also, but not quite like the other one. Ruakuri had amazing cave formations, and started Alex's favourite saying of the trip "Ooh, wow!". He wasn't overly keen on the caves to start with, when the first thing we did was go into a pitch black cavern, where the guide got everyone to shout at the top of their lungs. It took about ten minutes to get Alex to stop screaming. But after that, he was happy, checking out the stalactites and the like, in the Ergo on Daddy's back. Hard to get decent photos in the Ruakuri cave, and we weren't allowed to in the other glow-worm cave.
Next day was our favourite activity, although we had to say goodbye to Rotarua. We went on a tour of the Hobbiton site from Lord of the Rings, which is presently being rebuilt for the filming of the Hobbit. We had to sign confidentiality agreements to go on the tour, and am not supposed to publish photos, but I can show ones that don't give away movie secrets...
This was our favourite activity, mainly because we like the movies, and it was just so interesting seeing how and where they filmed Hobbiton scenes from LOTR, and also the rebuilding that was happening. And the countryside was storybook beautiful.
Our hotel room in Auckland was right near the airport, and while we were paying about as much per night as what we did for our gorgeous apartment in Rotarua, it was quite skanky. We actually had a nice meal in Auckland though, at a beautiful Thai restaurant. We missed our nice food. Alex enjoyed throwing rice all over their lovely restaurant, but luckily he's cute, so the waitresses didn't seem to mind.
Our last NZ day, we spent the day exploring Auckland. Actually we spent most of the time at the Sky Tower. Alex loved it up there, we had another great meal at the buffet restaurant up there, and it was raining, so our options were limited in any case.
Then we had nothing else to do. So we caught a ferry over to Devonport. It was cute. Kind of reminded me of Darby Street, except obviously over a larger space. And less cafes.
Had another nice dinner downstairs back at the Sky Tower, then back to the hotel to pack! Early flight home in the morning... Alex was great again. He got a little tetchy not far from the airport, but we could see boats in the water by then, so they kept him amused.
So it was an altogether lovely trip. I think we all had a great time, even though John and I came back more exhausted than ever. My lovely cousin Lisa picked us up at the airport in the morning again, probably voluntarily missing uni again. Slacker.
But shout out to John's parents for our amazing trip! We would never have bothered organising anything ourselves, even though we haven't been away since our honeymoon, except for the occasional weekend to Canberra. Not quite the same...
We still got to see quite a lot, obviously not as much as we would have without Alex. We spent most of the time based in Rotarua, then two nights in Auckland. Auckland was disappointing. Kind of a poor man's Sydney. Without the bridge. Or anything to see or do.
Rotarua, on the other hand, was a great pick. It is basically the centre of Maori culture, as well as basically built on geothermal land. We also went to the glow-worm caves from there, which we all loved. So amazing to sit in a boat silently floating in a pitch black cave with thousands of tiny glow-worms twinkling above you. Until they tell you it's actually the excrement of the insects that actually glows. But still...
So photos...
We got to Auckland fairly late on the first day. I'd actually had a job interview the day before down in Sydney, so we stayed the night at my aunt's house, and my cousin Lisa skipped uni to take up to the airport in the morning. Four hour flight was a great length for Alex's first flight. Took us a while to find the hire car and fit Alex's car seat in the torrential rain (would it be that much of a hassle for the hire company to do this for you??). Alex was pretty good on the plane. He'd had an ear infection the week before so we'd worried about his ears, but he was fine. Planes are "birrs", so he was quite fascinated by the airport. Drove the three hours-ish to Rotarua, checked in to the apartment, which, by the way, was fabulous for what we were paying. Probably because it was about 100 m from the thermal village and absolutely reeked as soon as you walked out the door.
Geothermal activity means sulfur. Sulfur smells like rotten eggs. Every time I walked out the door, it seemed to slap me across the face. John adjusted apparently. We did, however, refer to Rotarua as "where the Earth farts".
First day in Rotarua, we went to Lady Knox geyser. Twas quite the geyser.
Then to some mud pools.
We tried our first of several unsuccessful attempts at the local cuisine that night. Perhaps we were just unlucky, but we found the food in Rotarua was shite. To put it politely. The best meals we had were meals from the supermarket prepared in our apartment.
Next day, we started with a tour of Whakarewarewa, which was the thermal village up the street from our apartments. That was pretty amazing. It's a living thermal village, which means the native Maori inhabitants still live there. The tour guide didn't actually live in the village but was a descendant of the tribe. It was kind of weird to tour around people's actual houses, but they seemed to not mind. Most of them seemed to be involved in the "touristy" side of the village, performing in the cultural show (everyone loves a haka), and the like.
The tour guide explained the village such that the village is the "house" of the people living there, and their individual houses were their bedrooms. Cooking, washing, cleaning, eating, were all done in communal areas. The thermal waters were used for power, for their cooking, and for bathing. The waters were amazingly blue and clear. And 100 degrees Celsius. We ate our lunch there, eating some food that had been cooked in the thermal waters. (And a coke).
That afternoon, we thermalled it up again and went to the Polynesian Spa. That was awesome. We decided to splash out a bit, and paid for a private deluxe spa for half an hour, and it was divine. We had this amazing view over Lake Rotarua, and could swim in the nud if we wanted to. I hired swimmers (who packs swimmers for NZ in July), but did end up going in the nud. You only live once. Alex absolutely loved this as well, with the bath-warm water in the open air, swimming with Mummy & Daddy, and birds flying overhead. Probably our favourite activity of the trip.
Next day was Glow-Worm Cave day. We went through the Ruakuri cave, as well as the actual glow-worm cave. Ruakuri cave had glow-worms also, but not quite like the other one. Ruakuri had amazing cave formations, and started Alex's favourite saying of the trip "Ooh, wow!". He wasn't overly keen on the caves to start with, when the first thing we did was go into a pitch black cavern, where the guide got everyone to shout at the top of their lungs. It took about ten minutes to get Alex to stop screaming. But after that, he was happy, checking out the stalactites and the like, in the Ergo on Daddy's back. Hard to get decent photos in the Ruakuri cave, and we weren't allowed to in the other glow-worm cave.
Next day was our favourite activity, although we had to say goodbye to Rotarua. We went on a tour of the Hobbiton site from Lord of the Rings, which is presently being rebuilt for the filming of the Hobbit. We had to sign confidentiality agreements to go on the tour, and am not supposed to publish photos, but I can show ones that don't give away movie secrets...
This was our favourite activity, mainly because we like the movies, and it was just so interesting seeing how and where they filmed Hobbiton scenes from LOTR, and also the rebuilding that was happening. And the countryside was storybook beautiful.
Our hotel room in Auckland was right near the airport, and while we were paying about as much per night as what we did for our gorgeous apartment in Rotarua, it was quite skanky. We actually had a nice meal in Auckland though, at a beautiful Thai restaurant. We missed our nice food. Alex enjoyed throwing rice all over their lovely restaurant, but luckily he's cute, so the waitresses didn't seem to mind.
Our last NZ day, we spent the day exploring Auckland. Actually we spent most of the time at the Sky Tower. Alex loved it up there, we had another great meal at the buffet restaurant up there, and it was raining, so our options were limited in any case.
Then we had nothing else to do. So we caught a ferry over to Devonport. It was cute. Kind of reminded me of Darby Street, except obviously over a larger space. And less cafes.
Had another nice dinner downstairs back at the Sky Tower, then back to the hotel to pack! Early flight home in the morning... Alex was great again. He got a little tetchy not far from the airport, but we could see boats in the water by then, so they kept him amused.
So it was an altogether lovely trip. I think we all had a great time, even though John and I came back more exhausted than ever. My lovely cousin Lisa picked us up at the airport in the morning again, probably voluntarily missing uni again. Slacker.
But shout out to John's parents for our amazing trip! We would never have bothered organising anything ourselves, even though we haven't been away since our honeymoon, except for the occasional weekend to Canberra. Not quite the same...
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