Being together

As usual I'm typing this late at night (technically it's early morning) from my iPod. Bleary eyes, stumbling thumbs and a small screen. But I want to say something. Not sure quite what yet. 

This evening I watched the American Office. It was the episode where Pam has a baby. She asks the nurse for help trying to feed her baby as she is having problems getting her to latch on. The nurse responds by saying try again later and that she will take the baby to the nursery and feed her formula if she gets hungry. 

HUH

Why didn't she just help? 


I didn't really want to watch it anymore after that because it wound me up. Hawk said it's just a show,they're setting up a comedy moment.

HUH

When I had Leo this same scenario happened to me. I was extremely weak as I had lost around a litre and a half of blood and gone through a rather dramatic/traumatic time just after Leo was born. I was having blood transfusions at the time and my partner (Hawk) had been told to go home. I couldn't pick my baby up as I had various drips going in my arms and hands. My arms were so weak i couldn't move them. Nobody helped me. I struggled and struggled and eventually got him in my arms. A nurse told me to put him back in his plastic box. She said I didn't want to create bad habits. I had just created this little miracle and wanted to love him and hold him and be with him and I was told to put him in a box. 

HUH!!! Wahh 

I get cross thinking about it now. If I was well enough then I would have been pretty "fuck you" about it because the thought of separating from my baby was THE WORST. Him and I were still the same. I knew I was going to hold my baby and marvel at him. I actually couldn't fight against a natural need to have him on me and with me.  He just got born and was taken from me so that they could repair me. And then he was supposed to stay in a plastic box like a good little baby. This tiny helpless creature. MY boy. I just didn't have any strength left to think or fight or speak or move. And it was very overwhelming and surreal. I had worked up to the day I gave birth because Leo arrived three weeks early. My last day in the office. I was exhausted before I had him. 

(I can't see what I am typing now because my screen keeps scrolling up. So annoying. Probably a bunch of illegible rambles.)

A nurse told me my baby was hungry and she was going to take him and get a domestic to give him formula. She told me because I had been through trauma and blood loss my body wasn't producing the colostrum my baby needed. But she didn't try and help me, a new mother, at all. Not one bit. I think my body WAS producing what my baby needed. I think she couldn't be bothered and the easiest option was to take him and have him fed.  

When they took him off me I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I could not stop. I cried in total silence because I was embarrassed. I used all my strength to stand up and walk out the room and I saw down the corridor a woman holding my baby and feeding him. And I felt like it was the worst moment ever. I did not want to be separate from him. I did not did not did not want a stranger holding and feeding MY baby. I wanted to go and take him off her. 

They brought him back to me and I held him tight, sitting up all night and silently crying. I watched the clock all night waiting for Hawk to come back. Leo and I were covered in everything gross from birth plus donor blood where the doctor was rough and careless and yanked it about because the transfusion broke three times. But we were together :-)  

So this is the thing. Often I tell people that I am soft. I say I'm a soft parent because I don't like being apart from my baby. I do things as he asks. He's so little. He wants food and love (and when you are nursing that is the same thing).The world is confusing when you are new to it. Being awake is strange and being tired is hard. I am not strict. When I talk to people I say it like its a bad thing but I know for a fact that is how i am and i couldnt change it. I am very attached. 

 I worked out how to breastfeed on my own. Leo sleeps in my bed. He is happy, content and thriving. I have friends and family that have done something called 'crying it out' as a technique for getting their babies to sleep through the night. Its good it works for them but I know I can't do that. I get very stressed hearing my baby cry. He doesn't cry if he is with me or I am carrying him or cuddling him. He feels safe and loved and that's good for me. I like holding him, feeding him and having him with me. 

When he was newborn I barely put him down, let alone leave him. Now  I have to go to work. It's ok because he is with my mum. She loves him like I do. He gets more independent all the time and that's good. I'm happy. He is eleven months old. I know as time goes on we will be less and less the same person. He is finding his own identity and personality. And I will tell you something right now: it's awesome! He is lovely. Funny, sweet, loving, confident, content, cheeky, smart and boisterous. 

butter

Today my housewife duties were a dismal failure. I managed to accidentally dye a load of washing pink. Sorry boys! I watched the baby throw every morsel of every meal on the floor. The house is in total disarray. I feel like I need a beer. And a housewife.

My favourite part of the day was sitting on the floor with Leo and mucking about. I kind of miss the days when he was tiny and would nap on my chest for hours but this is definitely more fun. He is always up for a frolic.

I wish Blue Bloods would give a female a decent role. There is the mom that bakes, the dull lawyer and the sidekick cop that is always one step behind the chap. You know, I gotta sit here, boring in suburbia. Give me a normal woman, please. And don't get me started on House. One beautiful,  model-esque lady doctor after another.

Now I must sip my hot chocolate and tidy up this bomb site ready for tomorrow.

p.s. This is my most b.e.a.uuuuutiful :-)

smooth

Spent the day trying to comprehend data at work after a grand total of two hours sleep. None of it matters because now I am home and the bubs is asleep BY HIMSELF! It only took an hour. I could feel myself drifting off with him. I have the next two days off. I have a list of jobs the length of the M25 but I reckon the park and some severe snuggling is in order. 

p.s. I just ate two chocolate mousses. 

I spent all evening trying to upload photos. I take hundreds thousands of photos of my baby. I don't know what I took pictures of before my muse arrived. I find it stressful doing anything other than letting the baby climb on my head and poke out my eyeballs. The whole time I was uploading pictures he was being mournful for me. When Leo is sleepy or sad he just wants his mumma. I think it would be nice to be able to spend a while doing something other than look after the baby and NOT feel guilty for it.

This morning I was flicking through the music channels searching for just one good song to blast out for my boy. Credits were closing on breakfast and I wanted to prolong my coffee. I got advert advert advert the Grease Medley advert advert advert advert Michael Buble advert... All these channels for what?

Today was Leo's first Guy Fawkes night. We stood on the backdoor step watching fireworks shoot around us whilst Hawk cooked a roast dinner. I squeezed my boy close in the cold.

Pffffff pffffff is this thing on?

Oh good giddy god god I spent a while saying hello and it's vanished. It took ages typing on my little iPod as well. I see examples of women having babies and straight away carrying on with life no sweat. They blog and get back to creative stuff and I am trailing behind barely able to tie my own shoes. Pathetico! My cousin even cleaned her oven. WTF, right?! P.s Do NOT look inside my oven. Horror.

Whenever I switch on my laptop the baby either wants to climb inside on top hereherrhereoh my god mouse mouse! batter batter smash. Or he decides he is super miserable and wants a cuddle and to be wrestled to sleep.

I have a handsome, gorgeous, bouncing baby boy. His name is Leo and he is pretty much the best. My Hawk just wrote about when he was born right here: http://takeitlikeaprisonbitch.blogspot.com/2011/11/little-bit-about-day-of-23rd-december.html

I imagine this post will look totally botched. I can't area blinking thing on this screen, it's late and my brain got lost somewhere over a rainbow.

Automobile

I got a lovely and shiny new car. My first car. I can't drive it at the moment as it's not insured yet but yesterday I moved it to a space outside my house. It was a touch traumatic. I haven't driven since passing my test a year or two back. After minutes (that felt like an age) of bumbling back and forth in a space big enough to fit a juggernaut  in I remembered what mirrors are for and parked liked a non-maniac.

I was so embarrassed and shaking and sweating. I can never leave the house again. It's going to be one of those moments I look back on from time to time that make me cringe.

Sabbath class

 

I went to Asda on Sunday to return a dress I bought there the week before. I got in the store and couldn’t find my receipt so I asked the security guard (only person about) if I could exchange an item without a receipt. He said no.

On the way out the alarm went off. The same security guy was asking me questions about which tilI bought the dress from “don’t remember, it was two weeks ago”. I said I’ve never stolen anything in my entire life and I certainly wouldn’t start with clothes from ASDA! He said he wasn’t accusing me of stealing but how did he know I had paid for it?

FUMING

I said  that is the same as accusing me of stealing. Then he tried called his manager and she said “I’m going home, deal with it yourself” over his walkie talkie. So he was scratching his head and I was getting a bit heated  and he said he would give me the benefit of the doubt.

BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT. WTF MOTHERRRRRRRRR @£$%^. As if I need you to grace me with your benefit!

I had to be restrained by Hawk. DO I LOOK LIKE A COMMON THIEF?!

I mean seriously, I was wearing a lacy blouse, scarf, fancy jewels etc etc – I had just been out for Sunday lunch (granted, to a pub but I can’t even drink!). Do I seriously look like I would steal from ASDA?!?!?!?!?!

Hawk had to escort me off the premises. I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life. As long as I live I will never get over the insult. 

 Whilst this was occurring a woman was actually having hysterics because she was trying to return a thermos flask she had purchased the day before because the lid had broken and they were asking her how they knew she hadn’t broken it. She was actually in hysterics sobbing and screaming.

sailboat

I'll think of some good things to say, just not right now. I feel bad that I haven't posted for a while. I'm so permanently shagged though. I caught sight of myself in the mirror whilst brushing my hair a few moments ago and holy fuck the areas from eye socket to cheekbone are almost black. I wake up almost every night at 4am with a new nightmare (always involving my family), then stay awake until I'm calm enough to think sleep might be safe.  As soon as I'm asleep again Hawk's alarm is going off for crack of dawn overtime.

To add insult to injury, today I sat through a management meeting where over an hour was dedicated to issues with post.  At one point I actually thought that I have studied for GCSEs, A Levels and a degree and that has led to a job listening to other managers quibble about post. You guys are dorking on my vibe with all the dicks.

I cannot wait until my baby is here.

Saturday I am having a tremendous fucking lie in to end all lie ins.  Hawk is washing up right now. He's the best. Our ironing pile is so big that yesterday we both saw it through the window from the street outside. There are  more clothes in the ironing basket than in our wardrobes.

p.s. 

my boy

The babe is a boy. I didn't mind either way but this feels right. I'm so pleased. He seems to be doing ok so far. I love him (in all his alien like glory). 

Sympathy for the devil

When I don't feel well it makes me accidentally nice to Hawk. I don't have the energy to be a rude witch. This evening Hawk made me a cup of tea in a pretty floral mug and not the moo cow one :)

never the sharpest but always the tool

This is going to be a super quick post because I made it all the way to half 11 and am about to pass out. This may not make sense. 

Yesterday was my first day back at work after over a week off. I had a midwife appointment in the morn and felt totally fine. On my way in to the office I started feeling ra-huff. I put it down to first day back anxiety. All day my head was cracking and I had to call off a meeting because getting my shit together for it felt tantamount to scaling Everest. I had 184 new emails, 7 voicemails and a paper pile up which actually resembled Everest. So I put the sludge feeling down to that overload.

This is a tangent but as I walked in and I mean, my computer had not even loaded up yet, I got bombarded with information.  I take an hour every morning to simply adjust enough once at work to even speak basic niceties to people. Who in their right mind would barrage someone just back from holiday with a voice attack. Don’t ever do that. Let a colleague realign their settings in silence for a while.

So, at work feeling shitty and tired. But I’m up the duff so that’s normal. Came home, could not move. Felt like a guilty lazy twat as collapsed and Hawk did all the boring grown up chores. Woke up feeling shitty and tired, back at work feeling rough. Really rough. Head splitting so much that cannot focus on my screen or letters or writing. Feeling overwhelmingly hot. This is the norm too in pregnancy. Spent ages fanning myself with paper and wondering if the air conditioning was broken. Everyone else merrily in jumpers and cardies and definitely not boiling to death in heat wave. I thought my skin was burning but felt cold when I touched it and the cold felt nice on my burning hands. 

Was so hot that I went in to a toilet cubicle and took my top off. Sitting there topless with my head in my hands trying to push my brain back from exploding through my eyeballs it slowly dawned on me that THIS IS NOT NORMAL. So I did what most people would do in this situation and text my mum saying I wasn’t very well J   

N’night, hope everyone (including me) wakes up feeling fresh and well. 

bad taste?

Do you think I could attribute the fact that I haven't washed my hair since the funeral to mourning? 

I think it's similar to chalking up my being a fat git to pregnancy. The babe is only a few cm long.  

June

I didn't really know what to say about this so kept quiet. My Grandma died the weekend before last on her 78th birthday. My Grandma was such a character and a force. She was extremely liberal and funny and  ahead of her time. She noticed every single tiny detail. My mum inherited this trait and so have I :)

She picked out her coffin before she died and it looked absolutely fucking beautiful. I expect that's not what one should say about a coffin, but honestly, it looked like something the fairies would carry out to the woods. My Grandma was about the same size as a fairy so it was quite apt.  

I know this isn't about my Grandad but it's impossible to write about her without him. They were united. This is the first time in my life I've seen one without the other. He is a legend. My Grandfather is my hero. He looked after her so lovingly and perfectly and capably. Thinking about it makes me cry.

My Grandma was totally unreligious, so in lieu of all that nonsense the family wrote about her and the speaker (I don't know what you call the person that performs the shindig) pulled the pieces together and read them out. My sister Ro and I got together one evening in the pub to write our piece. This is what we came up with: 

Despite being only 4”11, June was one of the biggest characters in our family. At family gatherings her stories, and the way that she delivered them, commanded the attention of the entire room. One of the more recent gems involved a blind man passing his driving test. Preparing this speech, we went through a number of June’s different tales and laughed our heads off. We tried to write them down to retell but they were all either too scandalous or politically incorrect to repeat to a room full of people. 
June had a wicked sense of humour. She always told Mark that he was her favourite son-in-law. It took a while (a long while) for him to realise he was her only son-in-law. 
When asked to give Ken a break from bossing him about she promptly picked up her cane and said she would give him a break, “right over the top of his head”. However, often when he left the room on an errand she would lean in close, lower her voice (not something she did too often) and say how lovely he was, and that he took great care of her and how well he does. As soon as he walked back in the room she would pass judgement on his task mastering. Flower arrangement? Or, as she put it, “WHAT flower arrangement?” 
Everything about June was immaculate: her house, garden and appearance. She did not tolerate disorder or mess. In spite of this, she absolutely adored her dog Taffy. Indeed, it was not family photos displayed at her hospital bedside, but a lovely big portrait of Taffy, the most chaotic and energetic thing allowed to enter her house in a long time. When Ken dared to suggest that maybe Taffy might be too hard to handle she told him she would rather get rid of him than the dog. 
June was extremely artistic and creative and this shone through in her beautiful garden and all of her artwork. In her last few weeks she made duvet covers, cushions, a skirt and baked a cake. This is more than most of us could ever really manage to achieve. 
Except for her known hatred of thunderstorms, she always seemed fearless. We will never forget her standing in front of our 2 large dogs, both of which individually outweighed her by a good 3 stone waving a bag of sausage treats and commenting on how lovely they were as they were revving up ready to charge. 
June was always interested in and proud of our achievements and what we had been up to. If we ever broke any news to her a thoughtful card in the post would follow saying how happy she was for us. It’s very strange to think of how different our family is now going to be, or to imagine family events without the powerhouse that was June holding court and making us all laugh.

revolting

Our hoover smells like sick. We've not sucked up anything revolting or done anything out of the ordinary. It's seemingly adopted this affliction from nowhere. I've tried Googling variations of 'Hoover stinks of vomit' but nobody else in the internet land  appears to have had this problem. It's nice to have a house free of dust, dirt and hair but the puke blanket is unpleasant. It makes me throw up whenever I smell it.

 Hawk is going to try disinfecting the pipes.  I'm going to keep well out of the way. If anyone knows a solution or has had this problem let me know, thanks. 

Really?

Kellogg's have bought out these new ads. I don't need to be standing next to this at the best of times, let early mornings at 5 months pregnant. 

Off

Lunch is cheese and apple followed by bombay mix and meeting my friend for a coffee. I really needed  some time off work. Yesterday I could feel my heart pumping stress levels even after I had left the building. HOW DO I CONTRA MY CONTRA? I'VE POSTED A CHARGE BUT CANCELLED THE UNSETTLE! 

Goodbye complicated shit. See you in a week!  

omf(ro)g pt 2

 There's a frog hopping around my bedroom. Flipping cat.

omfg

MY WORST FEAR HAS BEEN REALISED: WE ARE OUT OF TOILET ROLL

Hawk

Hawk and I just did the cleaning. I pissed off early to have a shower and he finished mopping then made the bed (making bed = worst job ever). Then he made me a cup of tea in a mug with a cow on. He makes me tea in that mug because he says it reflects my personality. Then he  went to wash. Before he went I made him inspect a dirty rash on my leg and we had a conversation where I told him he wasn't allowed to get a 6ft Sully.

  

last remaining pairs

I really, really want these shoes. Size 8 ladies out there SNAP THESE UP! 

P.s. They would have gone perfectly with my new dress :)