The mancub

If child development is supposed to be some gradual, almost unnoticeable build up of changes then the mancub hasn't been following the rules (for a change).

I've always theorised that females have slower, but more constant changes to their bodies and minds, whilst males have sudden bursts of metamorphosis. I'm not talking puberty here though I guess that's the most obvious with girls gradually looking more womanly and boys suddenly waking up one day sounding and looking like they've made a wish on a creepy fortune machine a la the movie 'Big'!  It's throughout life, at the other end of the spectrum men look the same for years then suddenly look, well, old.

Anyway. I digress. The mancub has been blasting out changes daily. He's pretty much dropped daytime sleeps (much to the annoyance of Newt who is missing her hour of peace and iPad time), he's stopped using nappies at all now - even at night and for days out, and the biggy - he's just started actually talking. Not just one or two things that I am able to translate actually saying new words all day long. It's as if he's realised he can so he is. Each time looking at me proudly afterwards with an edge of surprise that matches my own. It's lovely.

It's also quite poignant and a bit emotional for me. As I wait to meet my new little person who is growing inside me it's as if they are waiting a day here and there just enough for him to be that tiny bit more ready than he was the hour before. 

Last night we didn't quite rock the daytime nap drop, he was exhausted and ready to sleep from far to early and woke disorientated and weepy at about half eleven. He didn't even open his eyes as he walked zombie like, arms out front into my room across the hall and climbed into bed and into my arms. He nestled like a baby and put his arm around my waist in the manly reassuring manner he has always done and slept. As I looked down at his sweet blonde curls framing his face, his light freckles tickling his nose and cheeks and his long lashes pressed tightly shut I felt complete and utter love for my baby boy. And yet at the same time a sense of letting go too. 

I think we are both ready now to welcome this new little life. I wonder if tonight will be the night. Will tomorrow morning be the morning that mancub climbs into bed with me to find me not alone? How will he feel? What will his smiley face really read? Oh wow, this motherhood thing is intense sometimes!

Bottoms up

Well first we had the surprise of baby. Then there was the good ole 'it might be twins' week....and for now things have been pretty quiet.

I've been feeling good apart from a potential pelvic girdle pain flare up that settled after a few weeks (over did the hill walking on a home ed trip...entirely my own fault). But then today at my final check before I'm on a home run for our planned Homebirth we have the rather fun news that baby is now breech. 

At 36 weeks I'm not worried, there's time to move and this baby has been every way every day now...it's just a very wriggly little person (and my body is clearly very loose and stretchy haha). After confidently brushing aside any concerns from midwife my brain started to whir a bit after she had left. The first was that I've just not had the same connection with this little one, I've never known what on earth they are doing in there, what's a foot and what's a head, if there was one or two and definitely not if they feel more like a girl than a boy. The second realization was that actually perhaps they have been interchanging between breech and transverse more than I thought. Having had the midwife show me what head felt like I'm now realising that what I've been thinking is bum and feet for some time is actually head and hands. Hmmmm. 

So whilst I had on my list of things to discuss cord ties...it looks like I may end up having to discuss my intention to still plan homebirth for the time being at our next visit instead.

Off to sit and read the Spinning Babies website......

How do you want to be remembered?

A friend linked to this blog post the other day from Hands Free Mama, along with the comment that it was 'thought provoking'. I agree it really was. Along with also being very true, very real and very honest. It was uncomfortable in places and encouraging in others. I liked it.
It reminded me of my own pledge a year ago for my children not to remember the top of my head and the tap of my fingers as a lasting memory of their mother. Of my own inward struggle to manage my temper and demonstrate to my little mirror and firebox how to cope with situations without erupting and how to channel the flow when there is no other choice. Also of the ongoing reality of being a mother to my children, my business and myself. Letting myself also be nurtured and loved, giving myself opportunity to grow.
So yes dear friend it was thought provoking. I've come further than I ever realised but am still finding opportunities each day to learn from my less fine moments. But of all else it made me think about what my children will think.
What do you most want your children to remember you as? Loving? Kind? Gentle? Consistent? Fun? Happy? Brave?
I know my fathers generation of parents had a whole different expectation and not forgetting also a reality darkened by wartime pain and memories. My dad would have probably described his mum as a fighter. She was the fantastic tiny little hard as nails northern nanna. If I'd have grown up with her as my mother I wouldn't have pissed her off let's just say! Yet despite never remembering once any loving words from her lips, or even a moment of physical affection when hurt or scared I know so deeply she loved me fiercely. She would do anything for me, for us. As a child I knew it and it still resonates through me now when I think of her.

                            The lovely Edith Mary (second from left) with my grandad, John (first left)


Perhaps being amazing for our children isn't as hard as all the books and blogs make out. Perhaps we just need to really really love our children. Maybe as wild as it seems that is enough.

Enjoying our time together

About three months into this pregnancy I had a wobbly week or two.
My youngest, the mancub, was still so much my baby. Was it unfair of me to not start 'preparing' him somehow? Should I be easing him 'off me' if there was such a thing? We sleep snuggled up, he fed from me still and whilst newt goes off and has days out, and even weekends away with family he stays firmly here with me. Not because he wants to necessarily but just because he's the little one & it's easier for him to be with me.
As his daytime naps became more sporadic the daytime feeds slipped off completely. Before long it was only a bit of bedtime and breakfast booby...as much about getting him to sleep and letting me have a bit longer in the morning - not essential but just what was wanted and worked for us both. All of a sudden there was a week where he fell asleep every night without asking for boob. A week later I tried offering him a drink and a snack at 5am (his usual wake up time) and that's where we stayed. Thanks to my irritation at the continuous crumbs in the bed (argh pet hate alert) the snacking in bed faded out too now. We just have a drink, a cuddle and get up. Booby has finished though he occasionally still asks when he wakes. But for now the night long snuggles haven't.
I decided instead of preparing him for having me less I'd make sure that these final few months he has me as much as he can. I'm his.
On the days when Newt is out and about with others I've made a special effort to enjoy each other. Instead of using it as a chance to catch up on work I've used it as time to be together.
We've explored the riverbank. Played cars and read stories (....well the same story..over and over!).

Preparing him through attachment, through love and connection feels so much more right. I've been woken by kisses and strokes instead of demands. He runs to get his sandals when Newt leaves for her grandmas instead of crying at the door, knowing we will go somewhere together soon.

 

There is plenty of time for him to not need me. I'm just going to savour this time that he does.

Week 29 - As you were

Well it's been an eventful few days. Or rather it hasn't. I've been on a huge journey and feel like so much has changed yet nothing is any different.

Last week at my routine midwife appointment my midwife, who has been my midwife for all of this and both of my other pregnancies, thought she could hear two heartbeats, one each side. She couldn't work out what position baby was in and was concerned about the general size of bump (though not huge it was very high and full).
Thing is. I wasn't sure either. For about a month I've thought the movements seemed to be very continuous, the position of baby hard to fathom and in general...I felt very full. Whereas last time there was never any doubt to my connection with baby this time I've found it harder. I've felt different and since early on have joked and teased my already anxious husband about there being two!

We talked and I agreed that this would be one of those situations that a scan would be acceptable for us. I had already decided that before I went in had there been any doubt about multiples. The earliest scan I could get was four days later on Monday. Before leaving I quickly slipped in the next most important question....had she done many twin home births?!

On the long walk home though the emotional roller coaster set pace. Coupled with no lunch (cue instant upset lol) I was already finding it hard not to think about it. Kind of like sitting in an empty room with only a red button saying 'do not push'. This was the first day. Shock and slight panic. The second day was the classic guilt, embarrassment and fear. Fear of there being only one and feeling stupid. Fear of there being two. Embarrassment of how much weight I've put on. Guilt at how if there was just one how anything else could all be my fault...too much sugar, too little exercise. Why haven't I been more careful. How did I let it get so bad as to give myself gestational diabetes or worse. Thankfully day three was easier. Poor dude blurted it out to a friend at a festival - I had the upper hand now of being able to say...way to go to keep a secret! We just didn't go there all day, quietly reassuring and loving each other was enough that day. And day four my brain decided enough was enough and it would take charge. It stepped in with the one thing that it knows I will always listen to and cannot ignore. Money worries. It decided to spend the day making me panic and freak about our general lack of finance. Thanks brain. Worked though.

By the time we actually went into the maternity unit I was back to thinking that there would be only one and was not really even surprised when the scan showed just one wriggly mobile busy baby.

It's left a strange deluge of baggage washed up on the shore though. Though my mind is obviously relieved...five months ago I was freaking slightly at the prospect of fitting in just one baby after all....yet my heart feels sad a bit still. This baby has not had any of the excitement and attention the other two earnt. The guilt is already present for that. And I feel strangely now like I haven't any excuse for taking it easy a bit like I would have had there been two little pairs of feet squiggling around in there. Which is daft I know. I'm still having a baby. I'm still mum to two younglings, running a home and a business. Somewhere along the way having a third baby and my general day to day exposure to baby land had taken some of the sacred magic out of all of this.
I also discovered that despite my general feeling of impartialness to the idea of having to go to hospital etc that in fact the only reason I'm so ok about it is that I've not had anything to do with the place for five and a half years! I'm not as ok with it as I thought I was. I was a wreck on the inside at the potential loss of power just going into reception. Might need to work on that after all, you never know what's going to happen even with a Homebirth. I don't fancy tackling that one much during or after labour or something.

I am trying not to think about whether the scan itself was unnecessary now either. Thats Pointless now. I think I needed it this time to ease my multiple mindset. Though I know my midwife respects my decision not to scan and has never pushed against my choice not to have any blood tests etc either I also knew she would probably raise it again at some point in the nine months as we already discussed her feelings towards going into Homebirth without knowing placenta location last time round. At least I can say for sure now there is nothing for them to bother me about and I can go back to slipping nicely under the radar as suits me.

I'll go back to being my nearly normal self. To the outside world I'd never been anywhere anyway. All I'll say is, in the words of Vinny Jones 'its been emotional'.

Here comes the Sun..

Spring arrived this weekend. Focusing on the seasons as we do has been interesting this year as apart from a change in the seasonal table, the books that sit alongside it and the colours of the play silks there has been little to demonstrate the difference between winter and spring.

When the sun slowly crept out this morning it was as if it too was stiff and slow from the lack of use all of these months. I enjoyed one of my lifes little pleasures and hung out the washing to sway dry on the line as it's gentle quiet heat warmed my back. I was joined by Mrs Blackbird, who was just like me, pottering and caring for her home and children as she busied herself flitting through the moss and earth in our guttering and between our roof slates. We acknowledged each others presence and continued on with our respective jobs.

As I returned to the house I actually felt a huge weight lift. A deep internal emotional sigh of relief at the start of spring and the end of winter. It has been a long one and all in all quite a challenging one too.
I've never minded winter before and in fact, whilst others cursed and moaned the cold and dark I've always quite enjoyed the cleansing regroup it provides. Reflecting what is going on outside we stay close together, eating rich, nurturing food and protecting ourselves from the elements. But not this year. This year it feels like it has been a strain. I've genuinely struggled with feelings of heaviness and exhaustion. From a delibitating lack of motivation and interest. My devotion and patience as a mother has been tested and my passion and energy for all else faded and tired.
At first I thought it was the pregnancy. Having never experienced SAD like so many others do this time of year it was another obvious assumption to reach. It was my fault. My poor diet. My lack of exercise and numerous other things I should be and wasn't doing. Then at around month four of baby's life I realised it was more than that. This left me more frightened that the pregnancy depression I had when I was pregnant with my second child had returned. In fact, to the point of actually calling and attracting the same issues, misunderstandings and disconnections between me and my soul mate. We bumbled through a few weeks, out of sync and disjointed. But then I just knew it wasn't something 'in' me this time. It was from outside. It was happening to me not from me.  I almost wept a few joyful tears of release as I came back into the house.

I made it. It's going to be ok. Spring has arrived.

Babies, business and analogies

I’m tired and ranty. This is similar to being grumpy only ranty is what I become when there is no one to be grumpy with! One might argue that there isn’t anyone here to be ranty at either but you can’t be grumpy with a blog post but you can be ranty. Think of it as a short disclaimer!  

Having your own business is like having your own children. Turns out all those people who I’ve heard say it before and have directed this seemingly unproductive advice at me are correct. I always assumed it was something to do with the analogy of nurturing it and watching it grow, loving it and wanting to protect it and so on blah blah but it is so much deeper and truer than that. I never imagined I would be overly sentimental about our businesses, they were the portkey to our future, but I would be one of those professional and realistic business owners who is honest and practical in my outlook.  Just as if you described parenting as a simple sentence of events it would not do it justice it is not enough to describe having your own businesses like that either.

I was out with a friend who I then only knew in a professional context. We were having a working lunch with my husband and my then six month old son. The waiter was wonderful, funny and friendly. He clearly adored babies and asked if he could play with our son (who was not interested in eating the feast laid out before us)...naturally we were all too happy for him to entertain him! We ate our meal together and enjoyed watching our son being shown off to the entire restaurant, he played his part beautifully and loved every second of having an adoring audience. When he brought him back to us he excitedly exclaimed how wonderful babies were and how much he misses his children at that age. We both smiled gratefully in agreement assuming this was in some way a compliment on how lovely our boy was. I was completely taken aback with the tone of absolute seriousness that my friend rebuked ‘you forget that they are incredibly hard work’. We all smiled waiting for the softness to follow but there was none. She meant it completely.

I have often reflected on this moment. It was a tiny fast rollercoaster in my mind for the minutes that followed. The initial natural motherly reaction of ‘are you implying my son is hard work?’ passed and then went on to the next swooping bend with the slightly less instinctive ‘but I am grateful for every moment of it’ phrase but ended the ride at ‘do you know what your bloody right. No one ever says that to me and no one ever really appreciates what hard work it really is’. I instantly respected her more than ever after that moment. It was honest and real and in no way as harsh as it initially felt, it was simply true. This business associate also turned out to be the woman we went on to buy a business from. Her baby. It was a pinnacle moment in my life, not just the purchase of the business and everything that has followed but this moment of recognition and respect of motherhood. I should have realised then that we were not just buying a business. We were adopting a new member of the family. Someone with its own needs that needs attention, love and time and that will require these all the time. Just as motherhood has helped me grow so did the business.  

I am intensely grateful for all of my ‘children’  though on this grumpy tired day when no amount of writing in a gratitude journal will take away the exhaustion at the relentless list of things to do and washing and tidying and cooking and birthdays to remember and calls to make and and and.... I am just allowing myself a little space to say you know what, it is great but it is bloody hard work.