Veronica

“But I’m not tired Mummy”

by Veronica on May 16, 2012

in Isaac

“But I’m not tired Mummy” he says, as he snuggles into my lap and tucks his head under my chin. His fingers twine through my hair as he breathes a contented sigh. “I’m weally weally not bery tired”.

I’ve been trying to convince him to have a small sleep. We were up until 3.30am together, with Isaac vomiting every ten minutes to begin with, before easing to every 25 minutes. By the end of it, we were both exhausted. He fell asleep between vomits and I watched him carefully, to make sure he didn’t choke. He only tried to once.

By 3.30, I took us both to my bed, as Nathan prepared to sleep on the couch. With buckets and towels at the ready, I prepared for waking every half an hour, but his body had had enough and he fell asleep deeply enough to stop the retching.

***

It was 10.30pm and I was just falling asleep when I heard Isaac start to cry, before that distinctive cough that heralds a child about to throw up. I was up and moving before I realised it, in his bedroom just as he started to throw up.

Pulling him out of his bed, I rubbed his back while he threw up on our feet.

This is parenting, I thought.

This is the reality. I could have told the story about a sick child and the snuggling this morning, but instead I’m telling you that vomit on your feet when you’d rather be sleeping is what parenting has in store for us all.

***

At 7am Isaac’s eyes flew open and I cursed his body clock that would wake him up (wake us up) so early after such a rotten night. I got him a drink of water and turned on cartoons, before stroking his back and falling back asleep.

20 minutes later Amy was in the bedroom with us as well, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Figuratively of course, I was too busy hiding my head under a pillow to check the actual bushiness of her tail.

I debated sending her to school, before deciding that it was too much work. Not to mention a risky endeavour – if she’s going to catch this bug, I want her safely with us where we can keep an eye on her, rather than vomiting all over the front row of the classroom, like a friend of mine did in year 1.

We stayed in bed for as long as possible, but sleeping in is a whole different ball game when you’ve got two children in bed with you, kicking each other and crying.

***

It was not a pleasant night, but you don’t sign up for parenting without expecting to be thrown up on at some point.

And as Isaac tucked himself under my chin for a snuggle this morning, I decided that it’s the bad bits that make you appreciate the good.

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I went to lie down this afternoon with my son and my book, only to wake up two hours later, kindle akimbo and pelvis screaming at me. I’d call it narcolepsy, but I suspect “pregnancy” is a better diagnosis. I woke up to find that Isaac hadn’t wet himself, that Nathan had cleaned the house and that everything was pretty much perfect. I am inordinately grateful for this.

Ten minutes later as I was sipping a cup of tea to wash down the buckets of panadol I required, Isaac ran up to me, threw his arms around my neck and squeezed tightly, before racing off again.

In contrast, I saw a physio yesterday who reminded me about the importance of good posture, gave me millions of pelvic floor exercises to do, looked a bit stunned when I discussed what joints of mine actually dislocate and sold me a pelvic brace.

It was an interesting appointment, rehashing things I already knew about how to correctly sit at my computer, how to not destroy my vagina forever and how to ease strain on my shoulders.

All of which are perfect in theory, but a little messy in reality. I pointed this out and she responded “It’s about finding the reality within the ideal”.

Which I guess is a perfect description of life, isn’t it?

As much as the ideal version of sitting at a computer looks great, if I sit properly, my blood pressure bottoms out and I either puke, or pass out. Neither are conducive to working, in case you’re interested. And so I write blog posts either lying in bed with a laptop, or with my feet resting up near the mantelpiece. Definitely bad for my posture, but it’s about finding the least bad thing and attempting that.

I keep reminding myself that pregnancy is not forever, that eventually I’ll be allowed to take the good drugs again and that I will have a smooshy new baby as compensation. Sometime in September, I’ll stop wanting to puke all of the time, my joints will stabilise a little bit and my skin will clear up.

Everything is falling apart and yet, it’s all going to be okay. Even if I spend the next three months unable to actually do anything other than write things and lie down, it will get better. Things will ease and I will not remain this unwell for ever.

This is shades of Amy’s pregnancy over again and I survived that, in worse health to start with. I can get through this. Pregnancy is meant to be glowing health and skipping through rainforests, while birds serenade me.

However, I’ve got to get used to the reality, within my ideal.

24 weeks 007

24 weeks.

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Our day in pictures

by Veronica on May 13, 2012

in Sharing The Love

Not pictured: My children covered in preserved cherry juice.

Thank you to Frogpondsrock (Mum) and Liz and Jarod for spending the afternoon with us! It was lovely.

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Getting into things they shouldn’t…

by Veronica on May 11, 2012

in Gotta Laugh

Yesterday evening, after dinner, I took myself to my bedroom with a book in order to get some peace and quiet and hopefully stop my back aching quite so much. I could hear the children running around the house screeching and playing; with Nathan occasionally breaking in to ask them to PLEASE go and play in their bedroom.

It was relaxing, right up until my son came into my room, tucked himself under my chin and nearly asphyxiated me with the smell of perfume. It seems, during their playtime, Isaac had tipped the remains of a bottle of perfume all over himself.

It wasn’t pretty.

For the record, a little bit of perfume is lovely – a lot of it is nauseating.

This morning, after a good wipe down, a bath, a sleep and another wipe down, he still smells vaguely of perfume whenever he tucks himself under my chin for a cuddle.

It could be worse however – there was a time when taking my eyes off Amy meant that she would fingerpaint the kitchen with butter, or the hallway with nappy cream. At one point she smeared both sudocreme and bepanthan into her hair, leaving her looking punky and smelling like sweet baby bottoms for a week. Waterproof nappy rash cream is not designed to shampoo out easily.

Nowadays Amy hides herself in the bedroom with a pair of scissors, paper and the sticky tape, madly creating before anyone discovers her absence. Despite the little bits of paper she leaves everywhere that refuse to vacuum up, I can’t say I mind this style of creative expression.

It’s certainly less frustrating than discovering an entire box of cocoa tipped out, or the corn flour tipped onto the floor!

What do your children get into when you’re not looking?

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For future record

by Veronica on May 10, 2012

in Pregnant. Finally.

Today, after a miserable night, I went searching through my blog archives. Long term readers know this, but I was hospitalised while pregnant with Isaac, with fears of preterm labour (short story: 24 weeks pregnant, lost mucus plug, positive fetal fibronectin test, steroids, antibiotics, 3 days in hospital for observation).

I knew that I was about this pregnant when it happened, but I couldn’t remember all of the details. You see, I’d bled on and off through the entire pregnancy to that point, so one more period of bleeding wasn’t entirely a memorable event. Only what happened afterwards is what sticks in my mind.

I’ve been having braxton hicks contractions for the last few weeks, but they’ve intensified in the last couple of days. No major cramping, they’re merely uncomfortable and not coupled with any bleeding, or true signs of labour.

As I was reading back through my archives, my blog was able to tell me that the braxton hicks contractions started at about the same time with Isaac’s pregnancy. That at 27 weeks they were uncomfortable and irregular. That he was still born full term, after two weeks of serious prelabour.

This is reassuring.

When people tell first time mothers to write everything down because they’ll forget, we scoff in disdain. What is happening to us is SO IMPORTANT that there is no way we’d forget any of it. Six years later I look back on Amy’s pregnancy to find myself hazy on the details. I know I was sick. I know the nausea came back with its friends, exhaustion and joint pain at about 22 weeks. I remember being incredibly miserable.

But I can’t remember the details like when braxton hicks contractions got uncomfortable and how badly my ribs ached when my uterus forced them to stretch.

It’s why I’m grateful that I blogged the pregnancy with Isaac, so that I can refer back to it this time.

So far, this pregnancy seems a perfect mix of both full term pregnancies I’ve had. The nausea, pain and exhaustion have increased in the last few weeks. The braxton hicks contractions are uncomfortable, but not a sign of anything greater. My ribs continue to ache and my skin is breaking out and I’m spending a lot of time laying on my bed with a book.

All in all, things look perfectly on track to finish in the same way I gestated and birthed Amy and Isaac.

While I’m nauseous and exhausted and crampy, knowing that this happened last time too (and the result of that pregnancy is draped over my lap right now, stroking my hair) is reassuring. I’m not going mad and I’m not going into preterm labour. I’m just not very good at pregnancy.

So I’ll follow the advice of my midwives from previous pregnancies. I will make sure I’m only doing light things around the house. I will rest lots and I will eat good food as often as I can. I will medicate as necessary and I will drink as much water as I can hold without audibly sloshing.

And, it should all be okay.

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