Motherhood

Sunshine Me!

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 11, 2012 in Blogging, Motherhood | 0 comments

Aw, look, I’ve got SUNSHINE! A rather lovely blogger who has reached out to me a lot lately, has awarded me the Sunshine Award. I’m not much for doing things like this but when someone is so lovely, like Kate from Makeshift Mummy, you can’t help but return the favour.

Here’s what Kate has to say about me:

Karin writes beautifully from the heart and has reminded me of the natural beauties in this sometimes darkened world. This new friend of mine has supported me greatly on Twitter when I have been struggling with Youngling and I have tried to reach out to her in likeness. Karin definitely deserves The Sunshine Award for she often brightens up my day.

How very kind and lovely. Thank you Kate…you have definitely brightened my day! Now I have to answer some questions as part of the responsibility of this award. Here goes:

• Favourite Colour: This actually is a bit tough. I love pink- hot pink but rarely wear it these days. Blues and greens seem to have predominance in my wardrobe but I seem to be stuck in a bit of a black rut at the moment. Gee…wonder why??
• Favourite Animal: In the whole wide world?? Penguins. They’re adorable, the Daddy’s do the egg-sitting and they tap dance. I saw “Happy Feet”…I know!
• Favourite Non-Alcoholic Drink: My favourite COLD non-alcoholic drink is Coke. I’m addicted, well and truly. Bad Mummy. My current favourite HOT non-alcoholic drink is hot chocolate at the moment. This might have something to do with the current average temperature outside or my need for chocolatey comfort.
• Facebook or Twitter: Twitter, hands down. Facebook sort of does my head in, to be honest. I do it because I SHOULD, not because I want to. Twitter is responsible for probably 80% of my blog traffic and for maintaining my sanity. I love you Twitter. Probably too much.
• Number: Well, this is a weird one…really, do you care what number I like? Ok then, the number 3. Why? I don’t know…just do!
• Day of the Week: Friday! I have always loved Friday. It’s the end of the work week, the beginning of the weekend. It usually means that Mark will be home in good time and we often get a takeaway. I also love the feeling of going to bed on a Friday night knowing that Mark (usually) doesn’t have to go to work in the morning and we get to spend the whole weekend together as a family. This is VERY important to me.
• My Passion: My blog and writing. At the moment it probably shouldn’t be my passion but it’s my solace and haven and my work at the same time.
• Getting or Giving Presents: This is a hard one as well. I used to be far better at giving presents and that was what thrilled me. Putting the effort into something special for someone and seeing their face when they opened it was what motivated me. Now, I’ve gotten out of the habit of this which is a shame really. I should try harder to make this happen because there really is no better feeling than knowing and seeing how much you’ve brightened someone’s day. I quite love receiving presents as well but this has lost it’s luster as I don’t get many these days.
• My favourite pattern: WTF? Pattern?? Seriously? That’s like asking what my favourite shape is!! I don’t have a favourite pattern…sorry to say. Do you?
• Flower: I have two favourite flowers: tulips and irises. For my wedding bouquet I had shades of pink and purple tulips. They were GORGEOUS. I just love tulips. They are such a happy flower and the colours are so vivid and exotic. Irises are my second favourite, in particular the miniature/Japanese irises. Such a delicate bit of beauty. They make me smile.

Phew. To tell you the truth, I hate answering questions like that but it wasn’t too painful. Except for the one about your favourite pattern. What a bizarre question! Next I am supposed to nominate another blogger to receive a Sunshine Award. This is a tough one but I’d like to nominate:

Dorky Mum! First of all, I love the name Dorky Mum. I don’t imagine she is Dorky but hey ho. Dorky Mum, aka Ruth, has been exceptionally supportive and helpful to me in the last week. She’s emailed me and messaged me and generally helped to prop me up which is absolutely lovely. We’ve never met and she only knows me through the great big blogging world but I really appreciate the effort she’s put into reaching out to me. So Ruth, thank you for being such a great supporter. I bequeath you with the Sunshine Award. Go forth and be sunny yourself!

Baby Steps

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 10, 2012 in Motherhood | 0 comments

Look at these beautiful faces. One thing is for certain, even though I’m struggling at the moment and working out how to cope, the faces of Ella and Sam continue to make me smile and laugh. And I’ve been given some lovely support from former friends, acquaintances and total strangers thanks to my post, Coping.

It’s amazing how writing something down and pressing PUBLISH can help. And it’s also terrifically reassuring to know that so many others have gone through the same struggles. I’ve had some really lovely emails, messages and comments on Twitter from people who are concerned and wish to help which is lovely and much appreciated.

Rest assured, I’m not in some horrible pit of despair. I’m simply in a bit of a fog at the moment but I do plan to work on some baby steps to getting myself back on track. I’ve been advised, by more than one person, to give myself a break and some credit for what I AM doing and worry less about what I’m NOT doing. It really has helped to write it all down so for that I’m grateful for this blog. This is why I write…I share ME and what I’m going through in addition to all the wonderful things. So thank you very much, fair readers, for your support and encouragement. I’ll keep you posted on my baby steps to finding myself again.

Coping

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 7, 2012 in Bebe, Motherhood | 0 comments

It’s been ten weeks so far. Ten weeks since Sam brightened our days and joined our happy family. It’s been ten weeks of learning and ten weeks of coping. I’m learning that I’m not coping all that well, to be honest. I have learned that I am not strong. I’m pretty weak when it comes right down to it and I’m pretty quiet about that weakness as well.

We want everyone to think that we are fine? Why shouldn’t I be fine? I have a healthy, growing, lovely baby boy who is precious and wonderful. I have a fantastically independent, clever and vocal daughter who makes me smile and my heart swell with pride every day. I have a lovely husband for whom I crossed an ocean to find and who makes me happier than I ever thought possible. I should be fine.

In many ways I am fine but I’m lonely. As much as I adore Sam, I’m finding the 24/7 draining yet the idea of separating from him is difficult as well. Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays Ella is in preschool for 6 hours. I am grateful for that time. Ella is stimulated, educated and entertained by someone other than me, I get six hours to spend with Sam and try to get my work done. I love those 6 hours BUT I also find them very lonely. The house is quiet (except for This Morning on the telly from 10:30-12:30) which seems to emphasize the loneliness. I could get out of the house but when you have no one to go out with, that prospect isn’t very inspiring. I also let things get to me. I seem to blow small things out of proportion and let them affect me more than they should, particularly with regard to my work.

I know I need to get out more. I know I need to exercise more and do things for me to make me feel good. But when you have a ten week old baby, that’s easier said than done. I thought this would be so easy. Everyone else seems to just roll with it and get on. Why shouldn’t I? The other day my inlaws stopped by for a visit. I was dressed in my usual uniform these days…leggings, loose t-shirt, hair scraped back with a headband because I desperately need a haircut but can’t take the time to make an appointment and no makeup. Sam was just about to go to sleep after an early evening bottle but with the arrival of Nanny & Grandad that went out the window and he quickly got overtired and irritable. I was short-tempered and frustrated with Ella who was whirling and twirling about because Nanny and Grandad were there. My mother-in-law asked me “What have you done today?” (in a very nice & making small talk kind of way) and I thought about it and stared at her. I had no idea what I had done all day.

Ella had been at school for her usual shift, I had managed to get the kids dressed and fed and the kitchen was clean with the dishwasher unloaded. I had done a couple of blog posts and done my freelance social media work. I had eaten lunch. But what had I ACCOMPLISHED??? In the eyes of my mother-in-law, probably not much! The shelves needed to be dusted, the carpet needed to be vacuumed, there was a pile of laundry on the table that needed to be folded. The bed linens really could have stood to be changed and the bathroom could have used a good scrub. Sam’s room was still in a state of disarray and there were a million other little projects that I could have done. But I couldn’t find anything to say to my mother-in-law. I just looked at her and said “Um, well, not much”. I didn’t even have dinner started. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to be making for dinner.

I’m not really sure what I need to do. I think I maybe have the “baby blues” and could use some help. Unfortunately, I have very little faith in the GP’s and Health Visitors at my surgery so I don’t really have a medical person to confide in. Perhaps I just need to go in and speak to someone, regardless? Maybe I just need a happy pill to take some of the “blah” out of me because that’s what I feel like right now. Blah. Are there happy pills to take the blah away?

This motherhood thing? Not so easy after all!

Snow 2012

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 6, 2012 in Little Miss Adventures, Motherhood | 0 comments

We’ve been waiting for PROPER snow all winter. On Thursday morning, approximately 18 flakes fell from the sky. Ella was so excited! And then so disappointed when it stopped after all of 5 minutes. She wanted snow, wanted to make Frosty the Snowman, wanted to play! Is that so much to ask for?

The UK has been threatened with forecasts for snow. Parts of the UK have had quite a bit but our wee corner of the East Midlands has had Jack Squat. Until last night, that is! Finally, the snow that is torturing the rest of Europe arrived in our neck of the woods. Big fluffy snow flakes adding up onto our cars and the ground. I showed Ella the snow last night and was sure that we’d only end up with a light covering in the end.

Imagine my surprise and Ella’s pleasure to find around 6 inches of snow EVERYWHERE! It was a lovely winter wonderland and Ella was ready. Kitted out in layer upon layer, her waterproofs, hat, mittens and wellies…she was ready. Snow 2012…here’s Ella!

Dressed and ready for the snow…wearing a hat from Wisconsin, USA where they REALLY know what snow is!

How much fun can one three year old and one 45 year old have? Three hours worth in the end!

A fine Frosty I must say complete with a carrot from our vegetable drawer, stones for eyes, a Caterpillar hat and Mummy’s fleecy scarf. Now where’s that magic???

I love this picture because it shows just how much snow we got AND how important Ella’s trampoline is to her. She’s got a teeny, red, plastic shovel from her sand box to clear the trampoline. She didn’t get very far!

After 3 hours, a proper snowman, a cleared driveway, a trip to the park and sledging around the village powered by Daddy, Ella finally came in with cold red cheeks and rather wet layers. She didn’t want to come in! As she started to thaw, her feet began to hurt…she was that cold! Ella has definitely inherited her Daddy’s resistance to pain.

The snow has already begun to melt. I would imagine that it will be gone within a day or two. Ella’s quite devastated to know that her Frosty will melt soon. Such is life in England. Snow comes and goes pretty darn fast but at least we’ve finally had some. Too bad it took until 4 February for it to arrive!

Really, Amanda Holden?

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 5, 2012 in Motherhood | 0 comments

Edit (6/2/12): The original title of this post was “Shame on you Amanda Holden” however after receiving several comments on Twitter about this post, I have changed the title and issued this editorial. Provided she is given medical clearance and serves her government mandated two weeks maternity leave, obviously Amanda Holden is free to do what she likes. I am sure she will have her baby and helpers with her when she attends Britain’s Got Talent auditions and obviously, sitting in a chair isn’t hard work. However, I still stand by my point that it isn’t advisable to return to work so soon following such a serious delivery. I hope Amanda Holden will have a positive and smooth recovery. What is a shame is that perhaps Ms Holden feels the need to return to work so soon. Whether for financial reasons or contractual obligations, it is a shame that she can’t take more time to focus on own recovery and her family’s new bit of happiness.

This morning, while feeding Sam his morning bottle I was watching BBC Breakfast. While reviewing the day’s newspaper headlines, they announced one of the headlines reporting that Amanda Holden plans to return to work as a judge on Britain’s Got Talent as early as next weekend. Less than two weeks ago, Amanda Holden went into labour 1 week early and had her daughter Hollie delivered by Emergency Caesarian Section. Following the safe delivery of her daughter, apparently Amanda lost a considerable amount of blood, had to have several pints of blood in a transfusion and remained in Intensive Care for three days. She was not allowed to see her daughter for three days due to the severity of her emergency delivery, so say the reports.

The recovery time for a caesarian section is recommended to be six weeks. Obviously every patient is different. Some recover quicker than others. However, when you’ve had, what seems to be as traumatic a delivery as Amanda Holden has had, received a blood transfusion and been in intensive care, do you think heading back to work after two weeks would be sensible? I doubt it!

It’s one thing to reply to emails, take phone calls, handle simple business from home but to schelp yourself (albeit by a driver) into a location hours from your home (next weekend’s auditions are in Edinburgh, Scotland), dress up in some flashy numbers probably including high heels, sit for hours watching insane acts attempt to win a chance to perform for the Royal Family seems quite daft. Why on Earth would anyone want to be away from their gorgeous, squidgy newborn for a few hours much less a day? It’s not like Britain’s Got Talent is THAT important after all. Maybe if she was Prime Minister or President of the United States but a JUDGE on Britain’s Got Talent?? I think Amanda Holden’s newborn daughter, older daughter and husband are FAR more important, don’t you?

I thought I could just bounce back from my caesarian section following Sam’s birth. Granted, every day after delivery I felt better. However, I was tired, sore and didn’t have the same amount of energy and stamina as before. I pushed it too hard in the first two weeks following Sam’s birth. Walking to Ella’s school left me drained for hours and increased my blood loss. My body was telling me that it wasn’t ready. That was a 5 minute walk down the road! Just attempting routine household tasks ended up setting me back a day or two. My abdominal discomfort continued well beyond what it should have and one day my knee suddenly swelled up dramatically. I went to the GP where it was determined that I had a Kidney Infection to go along with my c-section recovery. I was placed on a week’s course of anti-biotics and began to feel much better but that was two weeks post delivery! I returned to my freelance work around 4 weeks post-delivery with the odd bit of work here and there prior to that. I also continued to post on this blog in the days following Sam’s birth. I’m not perfect at “taking it easy” either however I paid a price in the end by slowing my own recovery.

Of course, provided she has medical clearance to do so, Amanda Holden is free to do what she likes. I just think that it’s daft! Taking yourself away from your familly and what should be your primary focus, pushing yourself physically when your body needs plenty of time, rest and support to recover is not sensible for anyone. When a celebrity does something so inadvisable it sets a precendent that none of us “normal people” can live up to. There’s already enough pressure on mothers to be able to fit back into their pre-pregnancy jeans within weeks following the delivery of their babies thanks to celebrities like Katie Price, Victoria Beckham and Heidi Klum. Shouldn’t we allow mothers the time to be mothers and recover on their own terms instead of setting unrealistic expectations as a society? The work can wait. Britain can wait. Babies are far more precious and the health and well-being of their mothers should be what we’re concerned about, shouldn’t it? I really hope that Amanda Holden’s physicians feel the same because they certainly should not be signing her off to return to work at two weeks post delivery.

So my advice, Amanda Holden? Keep your comfy clothes on, scrape your hair back in a ponytail, skip the makeup and snuggle up with your so-longed-for Hollie Rose. That’s where Britain wants to see you…not on our televisions, just yet anyway.

Sam- His Birth Story, Part One

Posted by cafebebemama on Feb 4, 2012 in Bebe, Motherhood | 0 comments

If you hadn’t been keeping up on Twitter, I went into hospital on Monday 21 November after noticing some light spotting bleeding. I had placenta praevia and our elective c-section had been scheduled for Friday 2 December. I was adamant, in the meeting with the consultant, that I wanted an elective c-section. Ella’s emergency c-section after failure to progress in labour was traumatic and terrifically unpleasant. I wanted to have a controlled, semi-peaceful birth and was confident that an elective c-section, while stil MAJOR abdominal surgery, would be the best for all of us. I was also adamant that if I went into labour early, I still wanted an elective c-section. Thankfully, the placenta praevia necessitated that.

On Monday 21 November, one week after turning 41, I went to the toilet around noon for a routine wee and noticed some spotting. My heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t bright red bleeding but it definitely was spotting. I waited for a bit, checked again and was assured that it was continuing. I phoned Mark first to tell him and told him that I would be ringing the hospital labour ward. After I rang the maternity unit, they told me that I definitely needed to come in. Panic stations!

I wasn’t packed and the hospital bag that I had started for the baby was only partially ready. I rang Mark back to tell him to come home, had a quick bath & got dressed, packed the baby’s bag, packed my bag and waited for Mark to come home. We had Ella with us as it was a non-school day. We didn’t want to ring Mark’s parents to worry them nor did we really have time to drop Ella off at their house. All three of us journeyed the 15 minutes or so to Peterborough City Hospital. We had been instructed to go to the Maternity Triage area where they would handle us. We arrived in the waiting area at 1:45pm and thus began my stay in hospital. I wouldn’t leave, in the end, for 5 more days. I hadn’t packed for that! I thought, silly my, that I might be having our baby on Monday 21 November. Everyone else had different plans.

Eventually I was taken through to be examined. We had rung Mark’s parents and asked them to come to the hospital to collect Ella as we weren’t sure how long we’d be there. Ella was bored and wiggly so Mark took her down to the lobby get some treats and shortly after they left I was called back to the exam room. After checking me, they determined that it seemed to be an “old” bleed but they were still concerned enough to admit me. At that point I was given the first of two steroid injections to help Bebe’s lungs to mature should he or she decide to be born early. At this point I was 37 weeks + 5 with a scheduled elective c-section for the following Friday at 39 weeks + 2. It was during my time in triage that Mark brought Ella back up to say goodbye to me which made me cry. I didn’t know what was happening and my daughter was leaving me…it really was hard for me.

I was then tranferred onto the Maternity Services Ward. This is the place where women being induced or checked for ante-natal problems are sent. Also, this is the post-delivery ward in Peterborough City Hospital. Thankfully, the hospital being just a year old meant that everything was nice and shiny and clean. The wards were HUGE with 4 beds and plenty of room around each bed. We were even afforded the luxury of a television, albeit, without freeview or satellite! There was one large toilet/shower room for the 4 berths to share which was far better than when I had to schlep myself down the hallway to a communal toilet when I was in the old hospital for Ella’s labour and delivery.

I shared the ward with a slightly chavvy girl who was being monitored (and later turfed), a diabetic woman at 34 weeks pregnant who was refusing to eat and/or take her medication and a woman being induced and beginning to labour across from me. When I was admitted, no one really explained anything to me. The midwife on shift told me that I would be seen by the consultant in the morning. That was it. No explanation of how long I might be staying or what I could expect. Mark stayed with me for a short while but I felt it was more important that he collect Ella and take her home so she could have a normal night in our house. He went to his parents to collect her and then brought Ella back to see me. We had a nice but short visit and then when it came time to say goodbye, Ella grabbed onto me and sobbed. Poor thing, she didn’t understand why her Mummy couldn’t come home with her. We’d really never been separated with the exception of 2 nights apart in her whole life. We both cried and then Mark peeled Ella off of me and bundled her into the car to go home. Bless her, she fell asleep in the car on the way home.

Thankfully, there were no restrictions on mobile phone usage and I had had the presence of mind to pack my BlackBerry charger so I was able to Tweet and email everyone to give updates. I also managed to write, over the next 3 days, 3 blog posts with my two little thumbs tippy-tapping away. A miracle! The next morning (Tuesday) a rather horrid and totally unfeeling, thoughtless Consultant rolled up, reviewed my chart, said I would be staying at least another day and night and that was it. No discussion about anything. No questions. No niceties or anything. I was left staring open-mouthed as he turned on his heel and went to the next bed. Thus began the pattern for the next 3 days. The consultant would roll up in the morning at some point, look at my chart, tell me I was staying and leave. Each day I wondered when I would be allowed to go home. Each day, no one filled in that answer. Finally, one afternoon, I think Wednesday, one of the midwives finally said, “More than likely they’ll keep you here until your scheduled elective c-section.”

Thanks to the placenta praevia and the fact that I had had a light bleed, there was no telling if or when a proper bleed might start. The danger, with placenta praevia, is that if a major bleed starts, it happens FAST with very little time to get help and the result could be death. The doctors at PCH didn’t want to risk me leaving hospital and having a major bleed. Totally understandable. But it really didn’t help that this wasn’t properly communicated to me until I was in hospital for 3 days. I also wanted to discuss moving up the date of the elective c-section. It seemed to me that keeping me in hospital for 11 days was far more expensive and pointless than moving up the date of the c-section, especially considering that by the Wednesday I was 38 weeks pregnant and had had my 2 steroid injections as well. The consultants wouldn’t even discuss it. They gave me answers like “statistics”, “reports”, “studies” and said it was best to wait as long as possible and get to 39 weeks. I argued that if I went into labour and/or had a bleed then the elective c-section which was scheduled for 2 December would then become an emergency and/or crash c-section, potentially under general anaesthetic which could be far worse for myself and the baby. They didn’t listen. They were aiming for 39 weeks. I was stuck. I was depressed.

Mark and Ella were having to fend for themselves, I was lonely and depressed and all I wanted was to hold my baby. The lunatic in the bed next to me was driving me to distraction and I had nothing to do. It was not a good thing. I honestly don’t know how women who have to be in for much longer manage. Part of my difficulty was that no one was telling me anything until Thursday. Finally on Thursday, the same humourless consultant who I had seen on Tuesday told me that there was no chance I was getting out and that I would just have to wait until the following Friday for my scheduled elective c-section. I sobbed. He stared at me. He said nothing but just stood there and stared at me. Finally he backed out of the bay and left me sobbing. The midwife came over to me and wrapped her arms around me and just patted my back while I sobbed. I just wanted to go home. She brought me some tissues and left me in peace. I curled up in a ball on my bed and was miserable.

I spent the rest of the day sitting up in a chair, watching telly, pouting miserably and checking Twitter. Then, around 3:30pm my comfort midwife came in and asked if I had been put on the monitor yet that day. I hadn’t so she wheeled in the machine, strapped me up and started monitoring me. As the minutes ticked on, I began to feel “tightenings” in my belly. I started looking at the monitor each time they started and watched the numbers go up and up. They started to be more than “discomfort” and became properly uncomfortable. My spotting had picked up a bit that afternoon and now with the “tightenings” starting, I began to wonder if Bebe was planning on an earlier entrance. It was Thanksgiving in America after all. It seemed fitting!

The midwife came around to check the tape and was shocked to see all the spikes and dips in my feed. She asked me if I could feel the contractions. I said yes. She said, “Well, we’ll keep you on the monitor for a while longer then.” About 30 minutes later, after continued tightenings and definite “discomfort”, the midwife came back. She didn’t like the frequency of the “tightenings” and called in one of the junior consultants to look at the tape. They decided that it was time to bring in the consultant to have a look. Then, after a few more minutes, they decided to transfer me to the labour ward. It was about 5:30 by this time. I rang Mark and told him to get to the hospital as I was being moved to the labour ward which scared the bejesus out of him. The midwife and junior consultant brought a wheelchair around and started packing up my things to transfer me to the labour ward. It seemed that Bebe indeed wanted to be a Thanksgiving baby.

Next installment: Labour ward, Arterial Bleeding and the C-Section…