Microblog Mondays: Family resemblances

I look like my father. While I have my mothers facial shape, I have my fathers features and colouring.

Pickle is the spitting image of me, but with Mr Duncan's darker colouring.  I have black and white pictures of myself as a baby that could easily be mistaken for Pickle now.

When my mother was in the emergency room, hooked up to 5 drips and a heart machine, she kept arching back and craning her neck to try and read the monitor behind her (she used to be a nurse).

There was something about that movement.  In her determination to see.  In the curve of her neck, the set of her jaw... her vulnerability...  I saw my baby daughter.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Woe-is-me Wednesday - Sandwiched Between Generations

Warning: this is just one big rant.

I'm feeling sandwiched between the other generations.  

Squashed completely.  

No room to breathe.  

For the past couple of weeks it feels like I've not had a moment to myself.  

I missed Microblog Monday on the 3rd because I didn't even notice it was Monday until it was Tuesday already and other Microblog Monday posts appeared in my reader.  I missed Microblog Monday this week because of a medical emergency. 

More on that later.

Pickle's teething and age appropriate development means she is being a little more demanding than usual.  

Fine.  Thats to be expected.  She's adorable.

But there is nothing like a new baby to bring doting grandparents flocking to your door and despite the best laid plans I have three of them in Melbourne at the moment.

My mother.  

She's been banging on about wanting to do a cruise in the Caribbean for a couple of years, having not left her rural hideaway in the north of New Zealand for twenty years.  Knowing that she'd hate a crowded floating hotel, I suggested before she invested the time and expense of getting to Florida, she try a three hour flight to Melbourne and a three day cruise between Melbourne and Tasmania.

She didn't want to wait until March for that particular cruise before meeting her granddaughter so we agree'd she'd come over for a week and I booked a two night paddlesteamer cruise on the Murray River for the four of us.  (That was great.  The boat only accommodated 18 people, so it was peaceful and relaxing.  Pickle loved it).

My mother turns up, complaining about the flight and how much walking you have to do at airports, on a one way ticket.  With tickets for a 16 day cruise around Australia.  From Sydney to Perth.  And tickets for a two night train journey from Perth to Adelaide.  She refuses to fly to Sydney.  So I sort out train tickets and accommodation for the night in Sydney, train tickets from Adelaide to Melbourne and a flight back to New Zealand.

It turns out the cruise left Sydney a week later than she thought it did, so she stayed with us an extra week.  Although she wound me up (she IS my mother) she was on her best behaviour.  Careful to blend into the background and allow the house to run normally.  Careful not to overstimulate Pickle.  And made an effort to contribute to the household - I'd turn around to do the dishes or fold the washing and find it already done.  

She was a very considerate guest and it actually went much better than I expected.

Throughout my Mother's trip around Australia I received text messages on the phone she bought for the trip to keep in touch.  She hates the cruise.  Its too crowded.  The air conditioning is too cold.  The ship is too big, she keeps getting lost.  She's pissed off that they're charging for water.  She made the Indian Pacific train from Perth to Adelaide but got laryngitis.  The hotel in Adelaide wont let her check in (at 7am) so she's just sitting outside.  Now she has heatstroke but drinking lots of water and sleeping in her hotel room until she feels better.

**************

Mr Duncan's parents have come to visit Melbourne for a month.  Their plans?  Oh, no plans other than see their granddaughter.  They're staying in a hotel down the road.  Can they come around now?  They'll see me in ten minutes  ...and stay for the entire day.

Mr Duncan's mother and I have history.  When she first met me (and Mr Duncan and I were simply travel partners, not together) she threw a tantrum and forbade him to see me, (not that he was at the time).  Forbade her 30-something year old son!  Once we DID start seeing each other she sent him text messages.  How much he disappointed her.  It was his fault she was depressed.  She might like to kill herself.  Over me!  Please.  I had little respect for that behaviour.  What the hell did she want for her son?

Since she learned he was not going to obey her, she started being fake-nice to me.   I'm not very good at that (or small talk), but it is important to me that Pickle has a relationship with her grandmother and I work hard to be cordial.  

Its not easy.

Mr Duncan's mother is in Pickles face.  

Loudly.  

All the time.  

Doesn't shut up. 'Ooh look at this, here's a nursery rhyme, look at this toy I'm waggling!  Aren't you a pretty girl'.  

Poor Pickle gets quickly overstimulated.

Mr Duncan and his brother were mostly raised by his maternal grandmother.  His mother went back to work after six weeks and his maternal grandparents stayed and looked after the children Monday to Friday and went back home on weekends. 

So I think she must have forgotten (or never have actually known) just how much time 5 month old babies need to sleep.  Pickle is ready for her first nap of the day after just an hour and starts rubbing her eyes and yawning after about 90 minutes the rest of the day.  'Do you have to put her down now?  You don't want to sleep do you Pickle?  Here look at this!'  Will she go down?  

Hell no.

As is usual for a baby Pickle's age, she's interested in the world and curious about anything new she sees or hears.  So she does not feed properly or happily go to sleep while she can hear their voices and knows they are here.  

I have a tired, hungry, grumpy baby waking several times in the night for marathon feeds to make up for her light eating during the day.  She has black rings under her eyes.

Mr Duncan's father is a fairly laid back affable bloke, but when Pickle is sleeping Mr Duncan's mother seems to require an audience.  Not just any any audience though.  And not her son.  

Just me.  

"Lisa, I'm telling you about...  Lisa!  Lisa I'm talking to you".  I want to say "Well excuse me and f*ck off Mrs Duncan but my baby is waking from her nap and takes priority!"

I'm no wallflower and calmly but assertively set my boundaries.  The same boundaries are ignored when I leave the room.  Mr Duncan does not support them. 

He has a lifetime of practice appeasing his mother in return for a quiet life.

Its driving me effing crazy.

**************

My mother is due to arrive back in Melbourne on the Monday evening and her flight is first thing Wednesday morning.  The respective grandparents want to meet each-other.  

A lunch is agreed for Tuesday.

**************

Because her train into Melbourne arrives at Pickle's bedtime, Mr Duncan picks my Mother up from the train station and takes her to her accommodation.  The plan was that she'd check in, then come up the road to spend a couple of hours with us before going back to bed.

Mr Duncan arrives home alone.  

He said my Mother didn't seem very well and would I go down and see her?  She's sitting having a cup of tea but has little voice and is very weak.  Not to worry, its the heatstroke, she's just a little dehydrated, she tells me.  She hated the cruise (predictably), it was too crowded, too expensive.  They charged for water.  Thats why she's dehydrated.

My mother is a diabetic.  I'm concerned.  She seems confused.  

I don't know what to do.

I remember when my mother was diagnosed with insulin dependent diabetes.   I was about four.  I knew my numbers.  She asked me to dial some numbers on the old fashioned rotary dial phone so she could talk to her friend.  She couldn't see the numbers.  Her blood sugar was too high and affected her eyesight.  Her friend came and took her to the hospital and she was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (not the neurosis her doctor was prescribing valium for.  God love the '70s).

As I grew older I learned how to test her blood sugar levels with a prick of blood on a plastic stick to determine whether she needed insulin or glucose when I found her passed out on the floor at home.  

This happened more often than I like to think.

I call the Australian equivalent of NHS Direct, the public health medical advice line.  They recommend I take her to the emergency room.  She protests but I take her anyway.

The upshot is that my mother was suffering from ketoacidosis.  This is where the blood sugar is so high, the blood turns acidic.  This can affect the function of all the major organs.  

Her blood sugar was over 30.  It should be under 8.  

At 2am she was transferred from my local hospital to the major one in town that had a specialist endocrinology team and an ICU.  

The paramedic in the ambulance who transferred her told me her numbers were so bad that if I hadn't taken her to the emergency room when I did, she'd probably have been dead by morning.  

He said "next time, call an ambulance".

Mr Duncan defrosted expressed milk for Pickle for the overnight feeds.  I return at 6am for her morning feed, express some more milk, get 30 minutes sleep and go back to the hospital.  My mother is still critical, but seems to be stabilising.  

Mr Duncan's mother is upset that he would prefer they don't come around today.

This morning I wake up, feed Pickle, express for her next feed, go to hospital.  I keep missing feeds and my supply seems to be dwindling.  I get home in the afternoon.  Pickle just woke from her nap and is not due for a feed for another hour but sees me and demands to be fed.  

I'm happy to.  

I've missed her.  

She yawns and rubs her eyes as she feeds and falls asleep on the breast.  I hear Mr Duncan's parents outside under the sunshade.  I put Pickle in her cot asleep, but she wakes a few minutes later and I cannot settle her.  Eventually I go outside to announce my presence and hand Pickle to her Dad so I can have a shower.

Mr Duncan's Mum says oh it must be difficult to have so many people making demands on you at the moment.  

Its nice to think she's noticed.

But it seems she doesn't have the self-awareness to do anything about it as she asks what time I'll be ready for her to come over tomorrow.

Sigh.

Microblog Mondays: Insidious thoughts

Over the years of trying to get pregnant and my two losses I sometimes had insidious thoughts, especially during the throes of disappointment after another fruitless two week wait.  

Or over the weeks months of hopelessness and futility following a miscarriage.

The thoughts undermined my confidence, my positivity, my hope:

• I shouldn't have thought/eaten/drank/worked so hard/flown/exercised/waited so long/done...
• I don't deserve to be a mother
• I shouldn't have invested so much time in work/travel/that relationship
• I should have married that wrong-for-me boyfriend when I was younger.  We'd be divorced now, but at least we could have had a family before it was too late
• I must have done something wrong... to displease the universe/in a past life
• Babies don't want me to be their mother
• I'm being punished for... any number of things I feel guilty about
• Maybe I'm just not the mothering type... 
• If only I had/hadn't...

I have always held a job with a lot of mental stimulation, responsibility, long hours and stressful deadlines.  Looking after and breastfeeding a baby is probably the most physically demanding and socially isolated work I've ever done.  It is non-stop though doesn't keep my mind particularly occupied.

I know I am lucky to have a baby, and such a contented one.  After five months of interrupted sleep and a few hard weeks with Pickle feeling her teeth coming through, I am tired and find my mind churning:

• I'm no good at this, it comes to real mothers naturally
• No wonder it was so hard to get pregnant, I'm not cut out to be a mother
• I love my baby but I'm not all in love and mushy like, the other mothers.  Maybe there is something wrong with me
• A real mother would...

I recognise these thoughts as products of my tiredness but they feel so very familiar.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

DIY Sweatshirt Baby Sleep-sack

Ted modelling the new sleep-sack

I've been looking at sleep-sack tutorials as, now that she's getting bigger, Pickle wriggles out of her swaddles.  I want her to be able to sleep in the middle of her cot rather than at the very end to make it easier to lift her for night feeds. 

The plan is to use her existing wraps as fabric for a sleep-sack.  I've taken a quick pattern from a friends sleep-sack with a side zip that I like, but need to find some proper time to put it together.

In the meantime I managed to whip one out of a sweatshirt during a longer-than-usual nap time.  I bought the sweatshirt from the charity shop for the heavyweight soft 100% cotton and didn't realise the it had a dead bird on it until after I got it home.  

Mr Duncan informs me it is something to do with a band I think I've heard of, but can't think of any of their songs.  I'm really starting to feel old now when it comes to popular music.

Before

During

In any case its based on this tutorial here.  I used velcro rather than snaps as I had the roll I bought for the baby gym and I was going to use bias binding for the edges rather than zigzag but ended up hemming it all instead, which made the neck and arms a little larger than I intended.  

Other than that, I'm really happy with it and might keep my eyes out for some other suitable sweatshirts to make more for when Pickle gets bigger.  

I like making things for her, and the less I spend on such things, the longer I can go without having to get a new job so...

Co-sleeping arrangements - DIY Sidecar Crib

I have been meaning to do a post on this as it took me quite some time and strategic googling to find the information I wanted when I was pregnant and trying to figure it all out.  In the meantime I wrote about it for a friend so here is a copy of the bulk of that email in lieu of a proper post. :-)

I looked at the sidecar cribs such as the Arms Reach, but my research showed people complained that their little ones grew out of them too early.  

And they're expensive in Australia.  

We decided against the things that go between you both in the bed like the Snuggle bed as a) ours is a double and b) Mr Duncan is an 'oblivious to the world' sleeper - also they become too small quickly.

We finally decided to sidecar a cot after looking at lots of blogs etc.  

I mainly went from the info on this site http://www.freewebs.com/sidecarcrib/ but I found a few other websites and remember there was an ikeahacks tutorial somewhere too.

We bought a cheapie cot/toddler bed (so it would be stable with only three sides) and removed the side, but kept the height at the highest level.  

The cot mattress is mashed into the side of our bed and we have jammed a cut down pool noodle on the far side to keep the mattress from moving and prevent any gap.  The noodle fits inside the fitted sheet along with the actual cot mattress.

We have the cot sitting on some old phone books to bring it up in height a bit but it is still a few cm lower than our bed.  Because they say you should sleep babies with their feet at the bottom of the cot Pickle sleeps by my head, facing the other way to me, but its really easy to pick her up and slide her across for feeds/more burps/cuddles.

As she's getting heavier to pick up I plan to make some sleep sacks soon to keep her warm and then she can sleep facing the same way as me and I can just slide her across for feeds without having to worry about blanket safety.

Most of the examples I found on the internet sandwiched the cot between the bed and the wall.  We have attached the cot to the bed with bungy cords underneath which is better for us because it means we have access to the cot without having to go via the bed.  Much more convenient for nap times, a bit tricky for bed-making.  

I also bought a couple of over door baskets to hang off the cot to hold toys/books/burp cloths etc. While she is still swaddled and not moving I am basically using the other end of her cot as a bedside table - thats where my glasses, phone etc go at night.

For the first four weeks it was difficult for me to sit up or turn in bed due to the c-section, so Mr Duncan slept next to Pickle and handed her to me for feeds and put her back down/settled her.  That was a bit tricky, Mr Duncan is a very heavy sleeper so I'd have to go through a big drama just to wake him to get her up, even if she was crying.  He also falls asleep really fast (frequently mid-sentence) and I found both of them slumped together fast asleep a couple of times where he'd fallen asleep halfway through the passing her back manoeuvre.  At least she has his sleep skills!  We have now swapped sides again.  It is so good to be able to see her and listen to her breathe (I'm still having 'is she still alive' paranoias) although man, babies can be noisy sleepers!

I'm really happy with our choice as it gives the co-sleeping benefits and minimises the risks. 

We wont need to transition her to a cot later and when she's a bit bigger we'll replace the side and move the cot to the other side of the room before moving her to her own room once she's no longer breastfeeding through the night (timing undecided, I *want* to bfeed her for as long as possible but also bfeeding is contraceptive and time is not on our side for any sibling conception).

Here is a link on safe co-sleeping - http://cosleeping.nd.edu/safe-co-sleeping-guidelines/

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Two minute DIY baby gym

Pickle barely spends more than 15 minutes 'playing' after being fed and burped

and when she's not practicing her head control in 'tummy time' on the old fashioned mat I found at the local charity shop, her favourite game is copying faces.

Popular wisdom suggests she is now approaching the developmental stage that spending some time under a baby gym swatting at interesting objects would be of benefit for a few months.

I'm not a huge fan of the commercial toys available for babies - they're expensive, yes, but the marketing of children's characters and screaming "look-at-me-now" colours just rub me the wrong way.  

Yes, I understand the benefit of bright colours for babies but seriously, some of these mats give me a headache just looking at the pictures.

I do like the Montessori idea of using everyday objects to learn from so I decided to make my own baby gym so I could hang whatever I want from it.  

I picked up a couple of hula-hoops from the local pound/dollar/random tat store, some adhesive velcro and string.

I simply removed the plastic do-hickey holding the two ends of the hula-hoop pipe together (the ends were easily found under the 'made in china sticker) and used the hooks part of the adhesive velcro to tape them together.  I then added a couple of other bits of adhesive velcro to the top so I can secure various object hanging from string and easily remove/replace them.  

Place it over the upside down tummy time mat and voila!

a purse, sock and slinky

Its pretty basic and wondered what other people had done, so googled tutorials. 

They all put my effort to shame - but I have neither the time nor inclination to improve it at the moment.  

It works, and it wont be used for that long but if I change my mind and decide to make a more finished effort, or make one as a gift, I like this one the best.  

Coming up for air at 8 weeks...

Out and about in our stretchy wrap

The past 8 weeks have passed in a blur of feeding, burping, settling and weighing wee Pickle.  

I feel like I haven't had a minute to collect my thoughts much less write and publish them, so I'm in awe of some of the ALI bloggers I follow who have become new mamas and managed to keep up with their posting.  

My hat is off to you.

I also would like to send my congratulations and understanding to those who have decided to close their blogs now their little ones are here.  I'll miss your voices and wish you all the best.

I expect to continue to blog intermittently about things I create (probably things for Pickle), and in time perhaps, our efforts to give Pickle a sibling.  We'd prefer Pickle not to be an only child, however I am very aware my chances decrease with every day I age and just because I beat the odds once doesn't mean I can do it again.  Of course it doesn't mean I can't either but I'm not sure I could go through another loss or so in the process.  The point is moot for now as I'm unlikely to become pregnant anyway while I breastfeed Pickle.

My high nutrition diet has gone a bit awry since Pickle's birth too so that is not going to help my fertility.  While we ate all the food I had stashed in my freezer the first few weeks, I dropped the baby weight almost immediately and am now struggling to keep up the calorie intake required for breastfeeding a hungry baby without resorting to quick solutions like pasta bakes and various things on toast. 

I had planned on spending the first four weeks at home working on getting to know each other and figuring out a rhythm.  It feels like I spent the first six weeks running around to appointments: scheduled maternal and child health nurse appointments, weighings every three days, lactation consultants, hearing test, hip ultrasound (due to breech).  I am relieved to say we've finally settled into a bit of a rhythm in the last week or so.

I finally managed to complete and submit my somewhat garbled essay by the deadline by having Mr Duncan have her (bringing her to me for feedings) for a weekend.  As my friends kept reminding me, it needed to be submitted on time, it didn't need to be good.  Hopefully its good enough and I get the continuing education credits.

A quick summary of posts I've meant to write about in the last 8 weeks:

1.  Pickle's birth

I won't write a birth story, suffice to say I'm not a fan of spinal anaesthetic or c-sections, but the team were great and the result was a healthy baby. 

I remain irritated at the midwives at my first new hospital appointment for telling me to cut back on calories and the obstetrician at the IUGR ultrasound for saying Pickle was in the 60th percentile for size so we were expecting a larger baby.  

She was 2.6kg (5 pounds, 11 oz).  

Small but perfect.

2.  Breastfeeding

I was concerned about not having early skin to skin and baby led breastfeeding with a c-section and found breastfeeding very difficult.  

The three days I spent in hospital Pickle wouldn't latch, despite various midwives grabbing my breasts and shoving them at her tiny mouth which I found extremely unhelpful.  

I managed to express good amounts of colostrum and feed it to her in a syringe.  Once my milk came in Pickle would sort of latch and then immediately fall asleep.

By the time of our two week visit she'd lost the weight she'd gained since birth and the maternal health nurse strongly suggested supplementing with formula. I convinced her to agree to my supplementing with expressed breast milk and she recommended we hire an electric pump at considerable expense and feed Pickle for only five minutes a side before expressing and giving her the expressed milk from a bottle.  

Bad idea.  

Poor Pickle wouldn't take my milk from a bottle and ended up starving with horrible tummy pains from too much foremilk.  After two days of pumping and lots of internet research I took the executive decision to ignore the health nurse advice and return to our sleepy feeds and I'm pleased to say that at 8 weeks she is now a 3.9kg (8 pounds, 9oz).  

We still don't have a great latch and she gulps down way too much air, which causes its own set of problems, but breastfeeding is no longer painful and Pickle is clearly getting enough to eat now.  So that will have to do.

3.  I had been reading about elimination communication/natural infant hygiene  while I was pregnant.  It made sense to me that babies instinctively don't want to sit in their own mess.  And it is a common practise in other cultures - I remember seeing Mothers hold out their babies when we were driving through Africa.  I was considering trying it when Pickle was 3 or 4 months old, however at five weeks she began peeing on the changing mat each time her nappy was taken off so we started holding her over a tiny potty at each change.  

I can now tell when she wants to go about 80% of the time and very seldom need to change a dirty nappy (she makes an unmistakeable set of noises to indicate she needs to go prior), although there are still wet ones.  

Pickle hilariously loves sitting perched upon her tiny throne and the posture really helps her pass gas and ease her tummy pains.  

We'll see how it goes as she gets older and more active...

L.

x

Essay 60%, baby 100% complete.

After scheduling a c-section for breech presentation for next Tuesday morning, my waters gushed at 9pm last night at 38 weeks, 5 days.  

Baby was delivered just after midnight on the 21st May by emergency C - just in time for my 43rd birthday tomorrow!

She's a wee 2.6kg (about 6 lbs) but perfectly formed and extremely placid (so far).

Her tiny rosebud mouth is causing some problems with latching on to the breast so 

I've been expressing colostrum which she takes through a syringe..

Early days...

L. x