Auf Wiedersehen 2010, hola 2011!

Well, the eve of New Year is upon us once more and it's time to usher out the old with a lump of coal, or some such nonsense. Aye, time to make those resolutions to be fitter, happier, and more successful in the next.

Do I have any resolutions? Well yes, actually. I don't usually bother, but aside from having a wonderful year with my gorgeous daughter, this year hasn't been the best. Some of it hasn't really been my fault, I mean no one chooses to suffer post natal depression, do they? I've also had a pretty tough time at work, and a tired and stressed out me has meant that the year could have been better for my wonderfully supportive partner too. I could make lots of excuses for why I've been narky and why I've had such a tough time returning to work, but I think the best thing to do would be to try and deal with the issues instead.

So, my resolutions are as follows:

*Be more peaceful and serene.

Let's see if we can't dampen that naturally fiery temper of mine, not by suppressing emotions because that's how I've got myself in a post-partum pickle, but by changing my thought processes. A bit of retraining, that's all.

*Formulate a proper plan to change career so I'm doing something I love.

I am a teacher, so what more needs so be said? Actually, I do love my interractions with (some of) my pupils. Some of them are really fantastic and it is indeed a vibrant and dynamic working environment. No two days are ever the same. Fact is though, I don't love it - nor will I ever. All the saintly selfless teachers who seem to have a calling... well it has always made me feel a litle selfish and lacking for not wanting to devote every waking moment to my profession. Those are the best teachers - let's leave it to them so the kids get what they deserve.

*Get well.

Once I'm over my PP PTSD and depression, the first resolution will become a lot more viable. Yes, for the health and happiness of my family life, I am going to get well.

*Not be fobbed off by medical folk

My daughter spends most of everyday wheezing, and there's a nasty flu epidemic kicking off, but our doctors don't seem to have a clue. I'm going to do my best to make sure she is not subjected to unecessary risk through inaction on their part. Along with getting well, this is the most important resolution of all as far as I'm concerned.

So anyway, a healthy and happy new year to everyone! 2011 is going to be tough with the harsh governmental cuts, but lets hope that we all steer a steady course through the troubled waters and emerge fitter, healthier, happier, more productive, and so on.

Now, is midday too early to start on the Baby Cham???? Hmmmm......

My baby, the chocolate snaffler!

What a lovely family Christmas it has been! I hope that anyone who wanders onto this blog has had an equally splendid one!

It’s been so wonderful to see Babyzoid getting more and more excited with each present opened. The unbridled joy that greeted the drum and xylophone, and the belly laughs that accompanied being pushed round on her new baby ride for the first time. Not to mention the frantic scooping up of chocolates as she managed to get hold of Mum and Dad's Thorntons. We managed to react more quickly than earlier in the day when little one got hold of her Cadbury's Buttons tube and munched her way through a handful before we caught her red-handed. Thankfully, only a white choc truffle got sucked before she was foiled *sigh*. There has indeed been much laughter in this house over the past few days.

Last Christmas we didn’t even know if little one would be home for Christmas as her due date had been 15 days before Christmas and we’d been told that she would do really well to get home for it. As it was she beat it by a couple of weeks! Yes, last year was really special. And after months of only being able to get her clothes from premature baby sites or doll shops, we even managed to get her in a Christmas Dress for 7lb babies (ok, it swamped her, but she looked beautiful!).

I haven't uploaded any from this year yet - but I can't get over how different she looks. Gone is the dark hair and little upturned snout. In their place silky blonde hair that is just starting to curl outwards, and a cute little button that is constantly encrusted with snot. Every morning we have to prise off the khaki manhole cover that has formed over one or both of her nostrils - thanks to Daddy for that analogy!!

This year though Babyzoid's (thieving!) personality has really established itself so in my eyes it's been even better. I certainly do have my work cut out for me!!!

I do however have to spare a thought for those mummies and daddies who's baby has been born early, sick or both, and have therefore spent Christmas by the incubator in SCBU. Rest assured though, the next Christmas will be the most amazing ever as you will appreciate it so much x

Warning - humour-bypass post: Post Partum Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

I have been looking for another outlet for my urge to write for some time, and unbelievably I didn’t even know of the existence of Blogger Mums until I stumbled upon a few excellently written sites a few weeks ago. Inspired by the likes of Really Rachel, Vodkamom and A Modern Mother I eventually decided to give it a go myself – not only as writing practice, but as a cathartic exercise. You see I have many issues surrounding my experiences of motherhood so far. It started off badly with a horrendous pregnancy, followed by my baby being born at 27 weeks. But it has been the single most exciting and wonderful journey of my life. In spite of everything, I wouldn’t change a thing. Or would I?

I thought I’d reconciled with everything I’ve been through over the past couple of years, but an eventual admission of depression 14 months after I’d given birth has made me re-evaluate. I love my baby, I would leap in front of a flying bullet for her (thank you, Morrissey) but actually, I DO have a problem with the pregnancy that should have been a joyful experience, and the fact that I couldn’t cuddle my baby for 3 days, and worse, take her home for 11 weeks. Yes, that DOES bother me. There, I said it.

After months of breezily saying “yes, everything’s great with me, thanks” to every medical and healthcare professional who had asked, I finally had to admit that it wasn’t. I'm great at appearing happy and carefree, and indeed half of the time I do indeed feel like that (I have a good life), but feelings of darkness within, and rage at everyone around me finally came to a head. I should have realised long before I did, after all I would end up in tears every time I saw an article on premature babies, or even babies born on time (because mine wasn’t, damnit!). The birth of friends babies would be celebrated, but again... why ME? Why didn't mine go to plan? The feelings of annoyance at myself for being so stupid and self-indulgent because after all, my baby was ok and, for-goodness-sake, it was MONTHS ago now! Why couldn’t I just ‘get over it’? So off to the doctor I went. She diagnosed depression and possible Post Partum Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Had to admit I felt slightly ashamed at crumbling, but I’m glad that I sought help eventually. Indeed, I'm relieved I'm not just going crazy for no apparent reason.

I have been referred to a counsellor, and the letter came through today. Not sure what to expect or if it will help, but it is worth a try as I know I’m not able to give my best as a mum or a teacher while I’m feeling this way. The one saving grace is that I did bond with little one as soon as I sat next to her incubator after she'd been hooked up to that awful ventilator machine. It hasn’t affected my relationship with her at all, and I know that not everyone who has been through this experience is so lucky. I’m perhaps not a picnic for the other people in my life right now (not that I ever am!), but thankfully I have an excellent support network and a wonderful partner. And not forgetting a beautiful baby girl with a wonderfully mischievous personality. Yes, I'm very very blessed, and therefore I know it will all come good.

Munchausen by proxy, moi?

My little one has never had her immunisations on time. The last lot I had to reschedule 5 times. Yes, 5 times (!!!!) before there was a window where she wasn't too poorly. I had hoped that being the holidays - a whole week after she had last attended nursery - that this time she would be ok. But no. Once again I had to phone the Doctors and postpone *sigh*. I'm sure they must just think 'oh here she goes again, that woman who is always convinced her baby is poorly' as they tick the Munchausen by proxy box on my medical file (demonstrating my medical knowledge there *cough* too much time with House DVD boxsets *cough*). It's true, they should designate me my own waiting room chair (next to the toybox please!)

Aye, every Thursday morning without fail, there I'll be, toting my consumptive wheezy babe. Yep, that'll be another footnote on my psych file (did I mention my paranoia trait yet?). Still, at least it will be something to talk about in my first counselling session. Weh hey!

Seriously though, my daughter's constant ill health since the start of September is a concern. She's slipped two weight and height centiles in the space of a couple of months, in spite of a VERY healthy appetite (see previous post - my baby, the food thief!). Indeed she's never been without ailment since she started nursery. Now I know this is quite normal for immune-system building babies, but the repeated struggle with chest and lungs is a constant source of worry. She is after all a premzoid, and Chronic Lung Disease is a distict possibility.

Well, the next lot of jabs after the set I've just postponed is the 6th of Jan, so maybe she'll be well enough to have them both at once. And pigs in blankets may fly...!

Merry Christmas!

My baby, the food thief!

"Wow, you wouldn't know she was a prem baby now, would you?"

...is a comment I frequently get from people I run into who haven't seen my little one since she was barely out of dolls clothes. "No" I say, "that's 'cause she loves her food and never stops eating!"

It's true, my little one is virtually impossible to fill up. I've yet to find a food she won't eat. Liver? Sure thing, Mum! Tinned crabmeat? Slurrrp. Dried figs, apricots, prunes? Yummeeeee!

Weaning was not a difficult task with Babyzoid. She relished the challenge and ran with it. Of course she'd been the same with the formula milk until it started to not like her and she suffered horrendous reflux. Gamely, she kept trying, but up it would always come up again in copious amounts. Until we tried her on a little food. Apart from one abortive start (ohhhh the gut rot and nappies...!) that was it - she was away.

Little one had been fed my breast milk in Special Care, and I still look back in amazement at how I managed to produce enough for nearly all her feeds for the whole 11 weeks she was there. I put so much pressure on myself to provide as much as she needed, because I felt so helpless in every other way. The old joke rang true – hang a bell round me neck and call me Daisy. When she finally took to the breast I was ecstatic. But once home, my milk supply started to slow and so the formula started to take over as my nipples were repeatedly spurned. And that was when the reflux started. So it was a bit of a relief to get to 5 months or so and try a few solids.

Now I'd read plenty of books and articles that suggested babies like bland foods. Not mine! Anything that tasted strongly or smelled foul, she wolfed down. Basil was a particular favourite so went into everything for a good few weeks. I remember balking at a prune and basil combo that I was sure she’d snub – but no! It was the biggest success ever. So I had to ask: Annabel Karmel, whaddyou know?!?

But it’s not only anything she’ll eat – no matter how pungent and rank-seeming. It’s the amount. She yells in annoyance if I try and stiff her out of one of her two Weetobix’s – in spite of the fact that she will then eat 2 more when she gets to nursery. She will also eat ALL of her AM snack, ALL of her lunch; ALL of her tea, and then ALL of her second tea once we get home. And don’t be forgetting dessert with every meal as well as the handfuls of raisins in-between meals.

And then there is the taking of food from the other babies... oh the shame. Like the midnight fridge raider in every student household – except far more blatant. I’ve seen it with my own eyes as all I can do is stand there blushing and laughing feebly with embarrassment. Still, apparently I was like this at that age – and I have most definitely calmed down. Well, unless someone puts a tin of Quality Street in front of me that is. I can decimate it in a matter of a few hours, if the shame didn't kick in after all the creams, caramels and green triangles. Speaking of which, I do believe there are still a few remaining toffee fingers in the 3rd ‘replacement’ Christmas tin I’ve bought this year. Oops....

Mindy Roberts on pumping milk for sick babies

Read an excellent blog post this morning by Mindy Roberts of http://themommyblog.net/
fame. The post appears on Dr Green's parenting site. I've been trying to insert a link for the article but obviously I'm not quite up with the old html yet. It can easily be found though by searching for Mindy Roberts on the site or going to guest bloggers perspectives area.

I really enjoyed reading this post and wanted to link it here because it highlights the positives of caring for your baby through breastfeeding while they're in the Special Care Baby Unit. It's a highly stressful time and you want to do anything you can for your little one while they're so sick. And if you have that urgeto breastfeed then pumping milk can help you feel like you are bonding with your baby, even if they are not physically attached to your nipple!

I will just say however, that I'm not a rabid breastfeeding fanatic. If a mum wants to, she wants to, if she doesn't, well that's cool too - not the approach of many UK Health Visitors, but hey ho!

Christmas in the Wayne and Waynetta Slob household

Catching up on my mummy blog reading this morning it seems that we are all well and truly in Christmas mode.  This seems to be a positive thing in most cases - children are being taken for toboggan rides, 2 month matured cakes are being iced, turkeys are being collected, gift shopping was not only completed a month ago but presents are now all wrapped and under the tree.  And so on and so on.

In this household you can tell the Christmas spirit has arrived also.  Little one is having her morning nap having been fed all manner of unsuitable snacks by Daddy this morning, I'm here tap-tapping away on my laptop like I haven't got an overspilling laundry basket, and t'other half is pumping bullets into everything that moves on Call of Duty: Black Ops.  It's 11.30am and none of us are dressed yet.  Maybe we won't bother.

I have not completed my shopping yet.  I was forced into early action with my parents and my sister as they live away.  To be fair I have little one almost sorted, but only because it's going to be a pretty meagre Christmas this year for Tiny Timella.  The part-time wage is a shock to the system all right.  The shopping isn't done yet - but I'm telling myself there's no point before I can buy the meat, and oh I do hope they don't run out of parsnips!  It's the same every year.  I start out with great intentions by getting my first gift from Amazon at the start of November, then it all just gets away from me as I succumb to lastminititis.

Will I ever change?  I'll resolve to do so on the 1st of January, but let's face it - as my Mum always says to me with an exasperated sigh "you'll never change".

Time off dependant - your colleagues WILL hate you!

It's a tough one, isn't it?  You have to imagine being the work colleague whose own workload is increased 'cause the new mum in the team keeps having to take time off with her snotty little brat.  Yes, that was my perspective too when I was young, childless and carefree.  It is incredibly frustrating, but I now see completely unavoidable.  Well, I would say that now wouldn't I?

I'm prone to a bit of paranoia, I admit it.  I'm also prone to feelings of inadequacy and put horrendous pressure on myself to be perfect - which I never am (those feelings of inadequacy again..), and I feel very guilty about everything all of the time.  Guilty I'm not helping my child develop fast enough, guilty for being a crap housewife, guilty for missing lessons of those I'm paid to educate, and guilty when I snap the heads off those around me.  So much guilt, I'd make a pretty good Catholic!

I also had to spend much of my short pregnancy in bed as I had a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum (I may write more on this later).  It was an extreme form of morning (hell all day, every day!) sickness that saw me hospitalised and put on a drip 3 times.  This meant my colleagues again had to cover my lessons so the students didn't suffer.  I was full-time then too.  So, I guess I can understand the "will this ever end?" attitude I imagine them to have.  The answer to that question is, I really don't know.  My daughter comes first, and if her health continues to be this much of an issue, then I'll have to think again about whether I can do this.

The immune system of a premature baby

My daughter started nursery at the start of the school year as I had to return to work.  Thankfully I'm only doing 2 days a week, but it still cuts me up when I have to hand her over.  She seems to really enjoy it, and I do think it's a good thing for her social development.

Just one problem, being a preemie she's having a hard time building up her immune system.  I only managed to get one of the two steroid shots into me before she was born, so her lungs are perhaps a little weak.  Indeed, she's been ill every single week since she started, poor lamb.  Instead of being woken by the lovely sound of a happy gurgling babyzoid in the morning, I'm regularly greeted by the sounds of Darth Vader coming at me through the monitor.  I keep expecting to hear "Luke, I am your Father!" one of these days. 

There are mixed messages from health professionals too.  On the one hand they say that the bar is lower for taking action when premature infants are ill, on the other I'm being told that "she WILL catch everything going.  Don't worry".  Well I do worry!  I will continue to worry, and I will continue to be my precious little one's advocate to ensure that her long term health isn't put at risk by the "let's wait and see" brigade.

My daughter was born 13 weeks early

My daughter's birth was a traumatic one.  One minute I'm teaching a lesson (aye, a teacher for my sins), the next, I'm in a hospital bed being told that I'm experiencing the onset of labour at 27 weeks gestation to the day (well, 26 actually - I know my dates, damnit!).  As dilation progressed somewhat slowly after being admitted I was told by the midwives that there was no way I was giving birth anytime soon.

Little one was born early the next morning weighing 2lb 5oz.  Here she is, a few hours old rocking UV shades:

Completely perfect in my eyes, I still wasn't prepared for how much she'd look like a little frog - bodywise at least.  Just as well that I think frogs are extremely cute!

Sleeping through the night is a myth, surely....

When they start sleeping through the night, you think you've cracked it.  That's it!  I shall have wonderful undisturbed sleeps from now until the end of time (or now until the next baby, at least)!

Pft.  What no one tells you about is the disturbed sleep due to:

• teething
• colds and viruses
• soothers/pacifiers/teddy bears thrown out of the cot
• and probably a zillion other reasons that us Mum's can't begin to comprehend.

Last night was another bad one, which resulted in cuddles in Mummy's bed.  Of course then little one becomes wide awake and makes an even bigger fuss when put back in her cot.  She falls asleep eventually, but there is still the inevitable having to retrieve the soother every few hours.  Still, could be worse - Babyzoid is not exactly an early riser - and I'm not sure I should really feel aggrieved when she wants to get up at 8.30am...

Dipping one's toe in the blogosphere...

Seasons greetings,

I'm sitting here a little dazed, a little brain dead - kind of wanting to go to bed after a pretty sleepless night last night.  But I'm reluctant to give in as I don't want to waste that precious 'me time' now my daughter is asleep.  Mums, you know what I mean!  Tonight, Daddyzoid is working the late shift so I am free to stretch across the whole sofa, ignoring the dishes for longer than is hygienic, and just waste time surfing, ignoring A Christmas Carol on the TV.

I love the sounds of my 15 month old snoozing through the monitor.  Not even sure if I still need to be using the device, but as a first time mum who keeps having nightmares that I'm leaving my baby on the train, in a full bath, in a supermarket trolley, and so on and so on, I like to err on the side of caution.   I'm aiming to balance out that subconscious feeling that I'm really not up to the job - but as the dreams keep coming, I guess it isn't working!

  Leaving my daughter in the bath was the weirdest (and most disturbing) dream so far.  Apparently I'd gone downstairs to talk to some random Russell Brand lookalike who was inhabiting my living room, only to think 10 dream-minutes later "shoot! I left Babyzoid in the bath!".  Amazingly, she turned out to be OK, and though distressed was still just about afloat.  She had also de-aged to look like she did when she was a tiny preemie in special care. Scary.
Anyway, my heart is racing again at the memory, but I would like to highlight to any passing social service folk that IT WAS ONLY A DREAM!!!!!!!  Thank goodness...