No Different From Any Other

It's been a while since I blogged. Time has flown of late and many things/events have occured to distract me.

We had a good Christmas. It was quiet on the day given the inlaws have emigrated and it was just Husband, Oliver and myself. Oliver was a good lad and napped through our dinner (which I was worried would be full of cris or worse, the consumption of cold mash due to seeing to the little man).
I wouldn't say he was spoilt but he got some nice gifts from everyone. I was a bit strict and asked people to not get toys he'd not pay attention to after 2 minutes so we have lots of cloth & inflatable books, teddies that talk/sing and he received some clothes amongst other bits and bobs.

I recieved the most beautiful scarf from Husband aswell as a digital photo frame. I love technology! We now have Oliver in a frame from birth to now!
Husband got a new electric shaver from me. Something he's been after for a while and we both got some books and the obligatory smellies that will inevitabely never see daylight again.

Boxing day we travelled to my folks and spent the day with most of my direct family. It was good to see them all again and although Oliver started to flag around 4pm (his witching hour)he had a good day and slept the 2 hours back and went from carseat to cot and sleep within 10 minutes.

Husband is back at work already which is a bummer and this morning he missed this:



I simply cannot believe that a 4 month old baby can stand. Yes he's a little wobbly but he does not liek to sit with us anymore. It's either laying on his mat, in the Jumperoo or standing and that's it.
I think I ought to start thinking of safeguarding the house!

I hopw everyone had a wonderful Christmas and I wish you all a happy and prosperous 2011.

11oz

This is all that is left of the milk stash I've had in the freezer for a few months. In total I've used 135oz. 11oz remains.
Oliver dropped to the 9th centile last week andthe words 'referral' & 'Peadiatrician' were mentioned should he drop anymore. Worrying words it must be said.
So, on advice/instruction of the HV we upped the O mans' feed to 7oz a pop. 4 feeds in 24 hours still as he is in that routine he is so happy with so 28oz per 24 hours.
Yesterday he weighed in at 12lb 14oz. In the last 7 days he'd gained 8oz. This, I am pleased with but he's still hovering arond that damn 9th. But hey, I'll take what I can get for now.
This does mean however that I am under immense pressure to express more milk and I have to admit here that 7oz every 4 hours is a tall order. I often reach 5oz (normally on the nose.. bizarrely) so in order to maintain Olivers' feeds over the last fortnight or so I've been digging into the freezer stash.
I have a decision to make and althoug it may sound obvious, to me it's a decision I am finding most hard to make:

Option 1: Express more frequently - say every 4 hours to try and increase my supply. This will have a major impact on my life and yes I know, having a baby can do that but I feel that the impact would be great. Selfish? Maybe. It is bloody hard to feed and then express afterwards as it is without adding another express session in there and just hen to do it given the best time is when baby has fed/around you.

Option 2: Forget the increase in frequency and switch to formula on the last feed of the day (7pm bedtime). This would mean I'd still be able to express as I do no and give Oliver my milk on the 3 remaining feeds.

There is, for me an issue with giving Oliver formula. I guess it's a view that I know that BM is best for him and anything else is, well poison really. That may sound harsh but you'd be amazed that most women in my BF support group agree. Don't get me wrong, I do not judge anyone who formula feeds (I can sense I'm digging a hole here) but breastfeeding for so long makes me see formula feeding in a whole new light.

So, what to do? Has anyone had a similar experience?

I've often read conflicting views on when a babys eyes should change (if they do indeed change). Some say 6 months, whereas some say up to 2 years!
Oliver was born with blue eyes - mine are vivid blue. Husband has hazel eyes (thanks to his dark attributes I guess) and we often discuss if Olivers eyes will turn or not. Lately I've seen flecks of light brown around his pupils. Now given Oliver is the spit of his dad, you can forgive me for hoping that his eyes remain blue if only to resemble me a bit!
What do you think?

This boy is learning to love the camera.

Oliver and I have the snot.

I thought it was the 2nd jabs that made him under the weather but here we are well over a week later and he is still congested. Poor little lamb sounds terrible sometimes! I've also had a mild cold for the last week. Nothing as bad as last time but annoying all the same. Husband has escaped it (so far).
We went to weigh in yesterday and I was hoping that as we'd not been for 2 weeks and that I'd upped Olivers' feed to 6oz that his gain would be substantial. Imagine my consternation when I saw 3oz being written in his book. 3oz? Bugger. That's 6oz in 4 weeks!
I got a lot of questions fired at me about his feeding habits, health etc. I explained he'd got a bit of a cold but was happily finishing the 6oz every 4 hours. I said I refuse to wake him in the night to feed (on prev advice). She was a bit weary when I explained he still goes 7pm - 7am without a feed as he sleeps through. (He actually went 14 hours last night!) so we have new instructions to feed him 7oz first and last feed and 6.5oz on the other 2 feeds (11am & 3pm). I can only hope this works as he is rapidly dropping on the chart and is now on the 9th centile. I must add though that he never cries for his food. In the mornings he'll be happily chatting to himself for a good half hour and whilst I'm changing him he's happy as larry. Plus, I'd hardly call him a bag of bones. Hes' more creases that Gordon Ramsey!
He took 7oz well last night and this morning so fingers crossed.
He is teething aswell. I've seen no evidence of teeth yet but Husband claimed to feel something sharp the other evening whilst Oliver chewed his finger. He is dribbling everywhere, munching on everything and his poor thumbs takes such a battering each night!
We got his Xmas present yesterday and let him have it when he got it home:



I've had many friends speak highly of the Jumperoo so we got it for him. This particular one at £60 was cheaper than the Jungle theme.. still the same product but £30 cheaper. Mustn't grumble eh? He likes it so much he thought he'd show it:



I've been trying not to dwell on the issues I have with my mother as I find I get so frustrated and depressed so I'm focusing on other things.. such as work!
I called my HR dept in the week an asked when can we get this redundancy rolling. I'm not in the business perse, I'm on Maternity leave so they could just cut all ties now but alas the Union has stuck its oar in and is now demanding justifcation for any redundancies.
Now.. the majority of intelligent folk in my workplace understand the need to lose 30% of the workforce. It's clear we are doing poorly and need to shift some employees but there are select few at work who are in the Union who think it's all unjustified and that the company is bullshitting.
It must be said at this point that these 'workers' are amongs the poor performers with 2 being in mine and a neighbouring dept. I guess they're sweating it a bit.

So, I am still no nearer to receiving my redundancy package. I can only hope I receive it before Christmas otherwise it's going to be rather lean (just as well it's only Husband and I for the duration eh?).
We were planning our day to York for 7th to celebrate my birthday but the funds are looking low so we might need to pull the plug on that too. Marvellous.

Not feeling particuarly grand at present. As this week progressed I have become more and more down in the dumps and a belly ache that started on Tuesday has gotten worse to the point that last night I was up half the night doubled over in pain. Plus Oliver has a cold which is either a side effect from his 2nd jabs (he was poorly the day after) or he got a little cloe to one of his baby group friends who was indeed full of the snot on Weds. This means he is waking in the night crying.. no need to get up to him as he settles within seconds but it's keeping us awake.
So, until I am feeling really up to blogging here's a little photo to celebrate Oliver turning 3 months on the 24th. I know I know he could of at least cracked a smile huh?!

My eldest brother (the one who marries next year) has announced to the family that he and his fiance are expecting. This is wonderful news as he is such a good place now after parting from his ex.

My mother has decided to plaster it all over Facebook how she has her order in for a girl and how excited she is.
If only she could show this kind of emotion over my younger sister who approaching 11 weeks. Instead, she is still reeeling off the 'options' my sister has and won't talk about it with anyone. So my sister is an outsider in the family at present, a cast off if you will as mother is treating her pregnancy like the Apocolypse is upon us.

Sometimes I really dislike my mother. Harsh? maybe but at least I'm honest.

I have a somewhat shady relationship with my mother.. as you might be able to tell from previous posts.
Last year she has disclosed that she plans to leave my step-father but these plans have not transpired into anything, instead she sleeps on the sofa each night and groans all day long to anyone who'll listen about how rubbish her life is. I've often told her to get pro-active and bloody well do something about it but she claims she is powerless.
I was never a positive thinking kind of girl when I was young. My glass was always half empty. Assume the worse and anything else is just a bonus, etc. Mum never tried to turn this around, never gave me inspiration to change how I saw life because she was just as negative as me and was too tied up in caring for my younger sister. We never shared typical mother/daughter moments. When my period arrived at 14 she mentioned something about towels and not to store them in the loo incase people saw them (god forbid!). I recall very clearly that I never even got a hug on my wedding day. I was the last one to get the shower and by then it was cold, I changed in my parents' room and she never came to see me. She left to go to the ceremony and all day she was as miserable as sin. She was not the typical happy and belated and proud mother you would normally see butI digress. It's not in her psyche to show this kind of emotion.

Recently, I have spoken to Husband about my fears of turning into my mother. It may not sound like such an issue but I look at my mother now and see how negative, gossipy and emotionless she is and I worry that I'll be similar in 30 years time.
Husband tries to re assure me that our personalities are different, that it's the life mum made for herself that has left her with such a negative aura. He points out that I was nothing like her when we met 10 years ago and living away from my family for the last 8 years has made it even more so.
I have noticed that when I around my family, I seem to have a lot of positivity and I talk to them all but my family are not close, never have been and I can see so clearly that it is our mother who sends out the bad vibes that make get totgethers not so much fun.

My aunt has often remarked that she can see my mother turning into my nan (rest her soul) as nan was very similar. Showed no emotion, good or bad. She won't tell mum though as mum has, like me this fear of turning into her mother.. funny isn't it?


As for my father, well he is a different kettle of fish altogether.

I have still not had any communication from him, regardless of the 2 messages I sent him. I have expressed that although he may still be holding a grudge against me (I told the wicked step-mother how I felt about her.. it didn't go down well) that it is so disappointing that because of this he won't acknowedge his 3rd Grandchild. How sad it is. No contact for 4 years.
I am not particularily bothered if he never speaks to me again but Oliver has done nothing wrong and yet my father spoils the other 2 grandsons and ignores him. How, in years to come do I explain this?
I guess the crunch will come when my eldest brother marries next year. Obviously the whole family will be there and I wonder how my father will react to Oliver. The only consolation here is that Oliver will not be old enough to be emotionally affected by the situation. Me on the other hand........

I think it's safe to say my period is back. The cramps arrived this morning. I guess it's a case of everyone being different as to when to expect to bleed given the reponses I've had, not only on here but irl too.
I now find myself in territory I've not been in for a fair few years; Not preparing for the upcoming 2 weeks of jumping in the sack when a £9.99 piece of plastic tells me to, Not purchasing tests 4 days before AF is due inb the hopes it'll bring up those magic 2 lines, Not comparing the prices of said sticks on well known internet auction sites for the best price, etc etc. These are strange times! Don't get me wrong, I know I am very lucky to be in this position right now but all the same.
I'll be keeping track of when I due each month obviosuly but there is no real purpose now. It's a bit odd. I stopped taking my pill in the Spring of 2005 so it'll take a bit of getting used to.

Now, for news on the work front, I have decided to take the redundancy package that they are offering. I am yet to receive a call with their final offer but Husband and I have talked and talked about it and I just really want to spend these precious times with Oliver before he starts proper nursery and plus, with the shift they are offering, we simply cannot afford the childcare. Not a chance.
Don't get me wrong here, we'l struggle I'm sure as we do now when it comes to the end of the month. Those few days before payday are a killer.
We have gotten better at managaing our finances now Oliver is here, for example I now do my weekly food shopping online and have it delivered. This way I can plan a weeks' meals (not that we have to have said meal on that particular day) and there is no temptation of the deli counter, baker, clothing section etc etc. For the last 2 months we have saved an astonishing amount on our food/toiletries. I can spend as little as £20 on food for the week, whereas we used to shop monthly (and normally after a long day) so we'd fill the trolley with pointless stuff and offers we couldn't resist that we;d end up not consuming such as broccoli or yoghurts.
Now I can shop and rest that someone will bring it to me and all I have to do is tap a few times on the laptop and put it away when it arrives.

So, I could potentially be unemployed in a months time. Another new territory for me as I've been in full time work since I left school 14 years ago. Scary thought.
I shall be seeking a part time position in the Spring and we'll try our best to fit it round Husbands shift. However, if I need to send Oliver to nursery then it won't be as expensive as a 10 hour day (£50!)
One thing I've made clear (or at least I think I have) to Husband is that although I'll be home with Oliver everyday, he is not to call me his Housewife and I expect him to do his fair share of the household chores when he is not on shift which is for 4 days. I would like a few days off a week from the cleaning!

On a lighter note, I have made plans for my 30th which falls 3 weeks tomorrow. Husband has kindly offered to stay home whilst I and a few friends go to the local for a drink or 2 on the 4th. I've no intention of getting sloshed but a few will suffice. Plus I'm hoping I'll still be expressing so a) I don't want to have to dump too much milk and b) I'd like to in a fit state to pump when I get back from the pub. Then on my birthday (the 7th) Husband, Oliver and myself are taking the train to York for the day. York is the most beautiful city I've been too. I know it well as my father lives there but he will not be involved in our day (he is still ignoring me even with Oliver in our lives) but I'm looking forward to spending the day with my 2 favourite people doing a bit of sightseeing (loads to see even after 20 years of visiting) and a spot of retail therapy should our budget allow but I'm hoping with the redundancy package, I'll have a spare few £££'s to spend. Heaven knows my wardrobe needs a severe overhaul!

I started to bleed on Thursday. Not heavy and not really enough to warrant a pad but by this morning, it had become heavier and now I'm raiding the bathroom cupboard each time I go for a wee. I honestly can't remeber the last time I brought tampons and the only pads I had in the house were Maternity ones (think John Wayne!)
Imagine my consternation when upon waking this morning it appeared someone had been shot in my bed (Maybe I do live in a Western?!).

I am almost 12 weeks postnatal and still expressing 100% for Oliver. This, I was told would have a great impact on the length of time my montlies take to return with some waiting up to a year (imagine the savings!)

Now I'm really not sure what to make of it as I had the implant put in 3 weeks ago and I was told there may be some 'breakthrough bleeding' but I'd harldy call this breakthrough. It feels like a normal period. I am cranky (so what else is new) I am a bit achy down below and my head has been pounding since Wednesday.
Here's where it gets a bit complicated so bear with me:

Breastfeeding/Expressing can prevent the period from returning. The Contraceptive implant slowly release Progesterone into the body, increasing the Cervical mucus and preventing Ovulation. It is medically known that Progesterone can prevent periods so I'm confused. Period or side effect? I guess I'll have to wait it out and see if it stops. If it does then I have my answer. If not then I'll be hot footing it to my GP to have this little blighter removed. I know I've not bled for over a year but bleeding full time now is not a consolation prize I'm interested in!

Have those of you who have/are expressing had your monthlies return early?

Oliver has taken to his cot so well that we now put him there to nap from 11am - 1pm. It's sights like these that make me go all mushy. Only this scene didn't last long once I woke him to go to baby group! This boy is not a fan of getting his outdoor clobber on.

"Wake him at 10pm and he'll sleep through."

Yeah, that went down like a lead balloon.

We tried it.. honest we did for 3 nights but I have to say it is the worst piece of advice I've heard since Oliver came into our lives. Who in their right mind doesn't feel guilty about waking a sound 10 week old baby boy to shove a bottle down his neck? I felt terrible. Husband felt worse. He just couldn't face lifting Oliver out of his cot (yes I said cot.. more below) to feed him. It was made even worse with the fact that his nappy needed changing everytime as it was wet so by the time he's got a fresh one on (no matter how gentle/quiet we were) he'd wake and then fuss.
So, we knocked that idea on it's head quick sharpish and carried on as per the norm. So far for the last 3 nights, Oliver has fed at 5pm and has not fed again til 5 or 6am the next morning. He sometimes fusses a little through the night, enough to wake me via the monitor but by the time I go to pull off the duvet, he's settled, thumb in mouth. At least he is getting good sleep and my mantra is: If he's hungry, he'll wake and let us know. Heaven knows he's good at notifying us in the day times!
I guess the real crunch will come when he is weighed on Friday. He is plateau'ing just below the 50th so no issues but with only 4 feeds of 5oz in 24 hours I'm sure he'll not be gaining as he should. We can't given him 6oz as he often struggles with 5oz. Husband has suggested moving to every 3 hours which I'm sure Oliver won't mind but I'll wait and see what the HV has to say about it.

He has found his thumb. He will only suck it and only when he's in bed or napping on his mat. He looks so bloody cute it's unreal. I'm one for thumbs ratehr than dummies and I know there are advocates for both but with a thumb it's a case of self pacifying. Good for him and us. As you can see on the photo, given the choice he'd rather go for the thumb. (By the way I don't normally cover him with a muzze when he naps in the living room but it was quite warm and I just don't like seeing him uncovered in case he feels a draught).


Now for the 'cot' news. He is officially out of his basket and now slumbers in his cot. Yes we have bumpered it with large fluffy towels to make him feel a little more secure but he sleeps well. We've had no tears. The basket is now on its way to be bagged and put in the loft on the off chance that fate hands us a good deal again and we have another baby in the future. No idea when we'll begin that journey again.. sigh

I've a feeling he may be teething. He is slobbering all over the show and munching his left hand so much he sometimes gags. He's never been a dribbler but in the last week it has come thick and it's come fast. I brought a teething ring a few weeks back (a six sense that something was on it's way perhaps?) so it'll be in use soon I'm sure. It's not hunger, well I don't think it is as he shows no other signs of being hungry (and he's got these down quite well.)
He can also now grab things that are placed in front of him. Wonderful to watch. He clasps his hands together and normally anything caught will be pulled towards his mouth but it's amazing.. Overnight this happened. It's as if his brain picks a task each night and decides that the following day when he's woken, he'll be able to complete that task.

Watching him grow and progress is wonderful.. but a tad scary I must admit

Things are ok with Husband. I guess a lot of things are getting to me and this was the straw that broke the camels back. We've talked extensively. Hopefully we'll move on from it.

Now, onto a more positive subject, Oliver has been Colic free for 10 days now. I know I know, now I've said it, we'll have tears today but with the exception of a few grumbles he's ok. I can pick him up and pat his back and get an almighty burp if he's having a bit of a grumble and it's enough to settle him. He sure is good at keeping hold of the wind but it doesn't bother him in the way it did.
Dare I say it? Can we possibly be coming out the other side of the dreaded Colic? I hope so because I'm thinking of taking shares in Gripe Water!

One issue I have is nappies. They are useless as present. I might as well leave him naked and let him pee everywhere.
Every few hours (or nappy change whichever comes first) I notice immediately that he is soaking on his left side. Never on his right, always on the left. His nappy can be almost bone dry at the front and around the back but up the side it's sodden. I am greeted with this be it night or day (changing his clothes in the dead of night normally results in a few tears).

I was using P.ampers New Baby 3's but they started to leak so I got the H.uggies 3's and voila! Same issue. He can't wear the New Baby 2's as they cut into his chubby thighs so I might try the standard P.ampers or H.uggies 2's. I have a whole array of nappies in the nursery so you can understand my consternation at the tought of buying more today. I have noticed that he is always pointing to the left so maybe his pee is coming out with such force it's not soaking where it should?!

Speaking of leaving him to be naked.. I don't do this - ever! I've had a friend tell me her little boy lays around in his nappy or naked at some point everyday. I have never done this with Oliver.. I guess te thought of him getting chilly puts me off. The house is warm for me but is it warm for him (normally around 21C)
We rarely have skin to skin too and the same reason as above. I also find he roots for my boobs when we do so I try not to confuse him too much. Is that fair?

These things are sent to try us.

Thanks for the comments regarding Husband and his female aquaintance.

Things came to a head last night when I opened up and told him how I feel. It seems that sometimes, honesty is not the best policy. All it created was a bad atomosphere, a few words and me going for a walk in the blustery darkness at 10pm and then came the comments about me, my good albeit slightly alcoholic friend and our trip to Dublin last November. Not good.

I've been asked to tell him what I want him to do and you know what? I've no idea. I will not tell him he can't play with his friends anymore. He is 32 years old and can be friends with whom ever he chooses but I've asked that he spends more out of work time with Oliver and I.
Is that unreasonable? I don't think so.

I have been feeling a bit better in the last few days. I think sleep has been the major cause for feeling so destitute. Everything seems 1000 times worse on no sleep. However, last night Oliver slept from 9pm to 6am - This is a new event and one I hope coninues.
Suffice to say, Husband and I got a good amount of sleep. Not a full night as I woke a few times to check the time and once when I heard Oliver fussing but he managed to settle within moments. I don't feel on top of the world as some predicted but better.
The mass of sleep was helped by the day we had. We paid a trip to see my folks. A 2 hr drive and a full day with 10 members of the family and I was wiped so Oliver must of been emptied of all drops of energy. He was passed from pillar to post and I even had to have a stern word with my SIL to not keep picking him up out of his carrycot. She is too broody right now but my brother has said no to more children. This means Oliver bears the brunt of her affection.
We left our home at 7am (after I woke up at 5am.. blasted end of British Summer Time!) and arrived home at 8pm - Long day! Still it was good to see everyone.
My Stepfather was his usual pleasent self and mother spat venom everytime someone mentioned his name.
My pregnant sister was there as was the nausea. She is so bloated already that she was wearing a loose top thus to not give it away. She text me as we were in the car coming home that she had told mum. The words lead and balloon are appropiate. Mum text me this morning giving me her version of the conversation and how it'll all pan out.. just as I predicted would happen.

I mentioned Husbands' friend and my jealousy of their friendship. It's worth pointing out that is friend is of the female persuasion. They are good friends and became so through the workplace. They work together in an office 4 metres square for a 12 hour shift 4 days a week and then I'm often notifed that that are planning to socialise outside of work on his days off.
Now, it has to be said I'm a rather jealous person. My eyes are bright blue but behind them lies a deep green. I can't explain why, Husband and I have a close relationship and talk about everything together but I can't shift this feeling.
The last straw came last week when he declared that he was meeting her at the pool again for a swim. Now I was unaware that previous trips to our local pool were in her company so this was a bit of a blow. I made a snipy comment which went un-noticed and he left. I was seething and cursed to myself.
I just don't trust the girl. She is nice enough at work, albeit lazy and relies on Husband and their other colleague a lot however, she is 25, 7 years husbands' junior and this bugs me. I often find myself wanting to tell her to go play with friends her own age.

Husband spent a full day at her home last week laying new wooden flooring as she has recently moved out of her parents house. I was rather pissed that he returned so late given our 4 days with him here are so precious no Oliver is here. His response is that there is no one else to do it... apparently her older brother and father are unavailable.
It is 5 weeks tomorrow that I turn the big 30 and here I am jealous of my husbands friend.. it's not right. I trust husband implicitly though, which is a positive.

I have been implanted. I now a rod the size of a dolly grip inside my bat wings style arm. This is going to stop me falling pregnant.. say what now??

I find it so bizarre how this little contraption releases enough progesterone to stop my ovaries doing their thing. I also find myself feeling sorry for my ovaries, given the grief I've caused them over the last 5 years or so.
The DR told me a week should be a good length of time to wait before jumping into the sack with Husband. He's been asking if it's sooner whereas I'd be happy for it to take a year sometimes. I am feeling rather run down and blue. I wouldn't like to hazard a guess and mention PND but it seems I am having a bit of a hard time recently. In my defence there are many contributing factors:

1. I gave birth a little over 9 weeks ago - I'm still mentally adjusting.
2. My job has been made obsolete, I have to decide whether to take the replacement role they're offering (no more managing my team, mostly lonesome work) or go for the pay out.
3. I am freaking out about Oliver having to go to a nursery.. freaking out!
4. My younger sister is pregnant and I am worried for her.
5. The dog is crapping in the house still and it's only getting worse.. as is her health.
6. I do EVERYTHING around the house and if I mention this to Husband I feel I have apologise for nagging otherwise he thinks I'm getting pissy about it.
7. I am jealous of Husbands' friend and the time they spend together.. wtf?
8. I am sleep deprived (see all of above for justification)
9. My father has yet to reply to a message I sent with a photo of Oliver... I'm not expecting him to visit and smother me with hugs but still...
10. I have just eaten a whole pack of gingernuts and I'm feeling off.

Ok so the last one is a bit trivial but I've a lot on my plate (there is more but I try to limit what I share with the blogging world after the last incident.)
I feel I'm always in a grump and I must say, it's being the one that maintains the house that is starting to really bug me. I actually went into Husbands office yesterday and rooted for dirty washing. There were socks strewn all over, pants, trousers you name the attire it was there... and all dirty (I refuse to check his undies to assertain just HOW dirty - Eugh)
I hate to nag but it's all I do lately. I announced last week during one of my many rants that I am not his housewife.. I got zero response.

I need something to perk me up as I'm in a major rut and aside from meeting up with my fellow new mums 3 times a week I'm not sure how to do it.

Oh and I thought of number 11... I turn 30 in Dec. We can't even go away for a night as we've no childcare. Arse!

My sister who is 9 years younger than myself phoned me on Friday. Now this might not seem like it's worth blogging about but my sister NEVER rings me. I get the odd text now and again and we exchange comments on F.acebook (normally about Oliver) but she's not one for calling for chats (gets that from our mother sadly, who I've not heard rom for about a month.)
Anyway, we chatted for a few moments and got the obligatory "hows things?" out of the way and then she dropped it on me.

She's pregnant.

I was, admittedly rather speechless and didn't know how to react. You see my sister is 2 months shy of turning 21 but has the attitude and aspect of life of a 15 year old. Stroppy, ignorant to the important things etc. She has also only recently moved into a small 1 bedroom flat with her boyfriend of 3 years.
She says it was an accident for they were using condoms. I believe her, no reason not to but it doesn't make it any easier to digest.
I am worried. How on can they afford a child when she only works part time (her choice) and with such a small flat. I have found out all too well the financial struggles of having a baby.

She has asked me to be with her when she announces the news to the folks. I'm going to do it as she's my sister & needs my support (I am the only one who knows of the pregnancy) but I am also very worried of the reaction she'll receive.
Mum has always baby'd my sister as she is the youngest and the child she has with my stepfather. I've always blamed my mum for the way my sister has turned out as she has mollycoddled her all her life, even offering to pick my sister up from her home and take her to work up until a few weeks ago. My sister is also to blame a little for never refusing. Mum has always denied my sister is spoilt but the rest of the family know different.
My stepfather has always been the opposite. Encouraging my sister to do all the things in life we should do like get a decent job, attempt to use public transport once in a while, be more independent etc. He has often referred to me as the 'motivated one' in the family as when I was the age my sister is now I was travelling the length and bredth of the UK for my job. Trains were my choice of travel mode and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was staying in various hotels on my own for weeks at a time. I remember catching the 4 hour train ride to see my father on my own at the age of 15 - My younger sister won't even catch a bus for the 10 mins ride to work.

Anyway, the reactions from the folks are where it looks to turn ooogly. My folks are on the brink of divorce and I can see the following happening:

• Mum gets upset and blames herself
  
• She then blames my stepfather because it's convenient to do so and they start fighting
• Stepfather gets angry and ignores my sister for a long while
• Mum takes over and declares she knows best
• Sister has to endure a lot of agro and grief from the family including my step siblings and I live 150 miles away so I can't be there for her in person should it ever hit the fan
• Sister in law puts her 2 pence worth in and makes things a whole lot worse

Husband and I had planned to visit the folks/family on the 31st Oct anyway so this is the day my sister and I sit the folks down to announce her news but I just know it'll ruin the day. It's not a bad thing that she is pregnant - it's wonderful but it's the reactions and the fallout that will make it hard. My brother will be seeing Oliver for the first time and we're having a slight family get together. Then at tea time we drive home and I will worry more about what happens next.
Maybe I'm over reacting and my family will prove me wrong but I'm doubtful. I've thought about telling her to wait until she's had her 12 week scan but I don't know.

However at the end of the day my sister is going to be a mum & I'm going to be an aunt for the 3rd time and this makes me happy!

Not only did Oliver have his first set of jabs on Monday, but last night he slept in his own room... all night.

When I say all night I don't mean he actually slept all night (oh if only) but he was in there from 6:30pm until I went and got him at 10am this morning.

We made the decision to move him yesterday morning as we have noticed that it is not Husband and I that are losing the most sleep, it's Oliver. He, is like his mother sleeps light and every time I shift in bed/get up to pee he wakes and becomes unsettled so with the encouragment of the HV we put him in his basket and placed that in his cot last night after his 6pm tea time feed. I was, admittedly rather nervouse about having him away from us all night as I kept hearing 'SIDS' in my ear but we know it was a wise move. I will also admit to poking my head in the door one too many times before I went to bed at 10pm just to check on him.
One thing that spooked me through the night though was that at 2am I woke and panicked. I was asking myself "where was he?" and I can only imagine it was due to being half asleep but I then worred he'd gone too long witout a feed. He'd missed the 10pm as he'd slept from 6:30pm and as Husband was fast asleep next to me I then wondered if he'd fed and changed him before coming to bed (husband often stays up way later than me, I simply can't function past 10pm) and this would mean all was well but then right on cue, Oliver stirred and woke. Husband had the monitor next to the bed but we could clearly hear him next door so I might not have monitor on tonight for 3 reasons:

1. It flashes when there is sound (We have the new T.omy monitor)
2. The battery is useless and it needs charging after 6 hours of use
3. Our room is adjacent to his and me being a light sleeper means I hear him clearly anyway

I got up at the same time as Husband and, perched on the end of the bed expressed rather wearily. I then placed the bottles in the fridge and went back to bed.
Oliver then slept til 6am, had his next feed, fussed for around 30 mins but fell aslee again and we all woke up around 10am. All in all not a bad night at all, but I just wish he could shift that long spell of slumber by 4 hours. I'd be dead chuffed if he fed at 10pm and slept though til 6am. Well who wouldn't?!

Today was weigh day: 5 oz in 10 days which is a change from the massive gain he had at the last weigh in. Maybe the growth spurt has eased. He now weigh in at a satisfactory 11lb 6oz.

I spoke to the HV about weaning onto formula because people, I am really struggling with the expressing. I'm not fed up with it, it's more that it's too draining on me. I will be the first to admit that my diet of late has been somewhat abysmal as it's a case of grab what I can when I can with Oliver still being colicky (I told you it'd come back to bite me in the arse). Some days It'll be a rushed bowl of flakes, half a ham sandwich and maybe 2 or 3 cups of tea until Husband returns from work and I can eat a 'proper' meal.
Any tips on food that can give me a little more energy are welcome but I really think that at 12 weeks I might start to wean him on to formula.
I currently get between 7 and 9oz per session but I've noticed that I have also become a little lazy with pumping times. I was a stickler for 'every 4 hours' but now it's gone to every 5 and sometimes 6 or 7 at night time. This hasn't affected my supply thus far but surely it's only a matter of time before it dwindles and with the HV advising me this morning to up his feed to 5oz it's worrying that I'll be digging into the stock that I currently have. (10 feeds in the fridge at all times and a freezer drawer full of 4oz bags just in case.)

I guess the expressing is really getting to me. I know it is the best thing for Oliver and I know I've done well to get this far on expressing 100% bar the odd tea time boob feed still but that will stop soon I think as he doesn't sleep for as long after compared to a bottle.. selfish of me perhaps? Another selfish view is that formula takes longer to digest so there's a good chance he'll sleep through sooner. This was pointed out by the HV. Still, Breastmilk is so good for him and I take comfort in this. A good example is when Husband and I had the really bad cold not so long ago, Oliver never even caught a sniffle. HV says it's all down to breastmilk (and maybe a smidgen of luck.)

What to do? So I'm throwing it out to you all. I know that with maternity leave being tremendously shorter in the US than here in the UK a lot of new mums express whilst working etc. What's your secret and if you've fell in a rut like I have, how have you yanked yourself out (pardon the pun)

Contreception. A word that I've not used for a long long time. I've not thought about contraception for a long long time. over 5 years in fact.
I had my 8 week postnatal appt yesterday. I was given the all clear and we discussed a few things. We discussed how I'm feeding, she was very hapy when I explained I'm expressing (almost) 100%. I have carried on feeding him from the breast at tea time as this settles him more. The colic has eased again but now I've written those words, it'll no doubt come back to bite me in the arse.
I now have to decide which form of contraception to use. Yikes!

After a lengthy conversation with husband and the doctor, I decided I'd go for the implant. The injection sounded ok but the cons outweigh the pros. Plus once you've had it, without top ups it'll stay in the system for up to a year - The DR advised this is not a form of contraception to use if we plan on trying for another baby in the next few years.
So, implant it is. I go in next week to have it inserted in my arm. I find it amazing that a 4cm price of plastic under the skin on my upper arm can prevent me falling pregnant. What a wonder the modern medicine world has become!

Oliver also had his first set of jabs yesterday. Stage one of immunisation complete.

He was so brave, although he was cranky all day leading up to the appointment so maybe he had a clue he was in for something unpleasent but I think his daddy took it harder! I held him whilst Husband tried to distract him but he had to walk away. However he was also very brave as he is petrified of needles. I'll admit they don't phase me and I will often watch any medical professional dig around my stingy arms for a vein.
He had a rather unsettle night so I'm rather groggy this morning but it was all worth it. Next stage is in 4 weeks time.

As part of baby loss awareness week, tonight Husband and I lit a candle. A candle to remember our baby we lost in Sept 2008. We also remember all the other losses and think of those who are suffering loss right now.

Sleep tight little one. Oliver will always know of you.

It all started on Tuesday when he simply would not settle. It was at the usual time. Bang on cue at 3pm after his grub he started the colic cry. I sometimes wonder if he's doing it on purpose but then I see his little face turn beetroot red and know that even the most sadistic of us couldn't self inflict that sort of pain/cry.
I managed to settle him enough that he was awake but whinging but then just before 6pm he started again. He was due a feed at 7pm so I took a gamble and put him on the boob and within milliseconds he was as quiet as a mouse and all I and Husband could hear was the gently sound of suckling. He fed well and went to bed like a good boy at 8pm.

FLUKE! I thought.

Alas, it is 2 days later and his tea time meal is still my left breast. Granted he's probably not getting the 4oz he has via expressed milk but I'll take what I can get folks. Tonight he fed well and went down straight away. Whilst I'm so happy that he has breastfed without munching my nipple here's the thing.
Have I created a rod for my own back here?

• Will he get the dreaded 'nipple confusion'?
  
• Will he demand the boob more as time passes?
• Will this new feeding method throw his routine off track?

I fear that the answer is 'yes' to all of the above.
For the record, his routine is still 4 hourly feeds of 4oz. Tuesday he weighed in at 11lb 1oz. At 7 weeks that puts him 3oz shy of a 3lb gain since birth. He is averaging an once a day. Fatty! The HV is not fussed about that and therefore the following:

He has started missing his middle of the night feed. He normally feeds at 2 am and for the last 5 nights, he's woken up but not cried or stirred enough for me to get up and warm a bottle. I give him his dummy (another rod maybe?) and after a few minutes he goes back to sleep. This would be wonderful if it weren't for 2 factors:

1. He grunts - A LOT. Kicks - A LOT. Puts his foot through his gro-bag flap - A LOT.
   
2. I have to get up and express. However saying that I've gone through for the last 3 nights resulting in a8hr gap and the only downside is I'm a bit tender/full. There's a concern my supply might be affected but this morning I got 8.5 oz combined which was another 2 bags for the freezer as I've got 2 days worth in the fridge due to him dropping a feed.

I'm chuffed he's staying in his basket all night (generally 10pm - 6am) but if only I could actually sleep a but more I'd be happier.
Speaking of the basket, he's rapidly outgrowing it. We put him feet to foot every night but he only has say, e inches left of leg room and plus he's got this habit of squirming to the top end and squishing his face against the side nearest me. He's not bothered at all and sleeps well. How long it'll be before we have to put him in his cot I'm not sure but I highly doubt it'll be the 6 month recommended time! Husband has suggested 8 weeks, but I'm uneasy. I worry about the obvious SIDS risk. I might negotiate 12 weeks and see how we get on.

Oh, and he's found his right hand. No idea how as the wrist rattle brought him went on his left! but he can often be seen trying to stick it down his throat. Some say it's a sign of hunger but he does it at all times of day. Deep down I'd prefer for him to find his thumb. At least then he can self pacify himself without me having to reach over every minute put his dummy back in (another reason for no sleep).

No amount of colic cries can harden my heart after catching this earlier today:

I have husbands' cold. Not sure what made my body feel the need to steal it but yes, I am full of the snot. In all fairness it's taken nearly 2 weeks for it to make its way from Husband to me. I had been anticipating its arrival and I was almost convinced I'd escaped its clutches but on Monday I met up with a friend for lunch and upon arriving home I noticed the sore throat. Since then it has expanded to the snot.
Colds and I have an agreement: New 'symptom' each day then after a week it's sayonara. I'm on day 3 and the snot has taken hold after yesterdays' feeling rough as a badgers' arse. Tomorrow should bring a sore nose from all the blowing and a headache to boot.

Obviously I'm hoping Oliver doesn't catch it but let's face facts, it's inevitable surely? I'm going to pop into the chemist tomorrow and pick up some saline drops in preperation.

The pumping is going well. Maybe not as well as I'd hoped. I'm pumping every 3-4 hours and achieving an average 6oz combined each session. It's fair to say my left supplies more than my right. If I've left it a bit long, say I've been out and been a tad too long, then I can get 5oz plus from the left, but only 2 from the right. I've tried to express more frequently on the right to give it subtle hints but it's just not getting it.
I'm looking for tips so any input would be greatfully appreciated.
I've tried some tricks, massaging, putting Oliver on the boob to trick it, etc and I resorted to Fenugreek last week. I have to say that Fenugreek is the devils' herb. It stinks to the high heavens (so maybe NOT the devils' herb after all? ha!) and it made my wee smell foul. Not that I think my urine smells good of course but I was beginning to think something had died in the loo each time I visited. I stopped taking the stuff a few days ago after I noticed zero difference in my milk supply.

Fenugreek = FenuFail

Keeping in line with stuff coming out of the body, Olivers bowels have decided to take a break for a while I think.
Last Friday (2 days after I started taking the FenuFail coincidentally) he poo'd as norm and then went all the way to Monday just gone without as much as a skid mark. One friend told me my milk has matured thus it can affect his system, another told me he's constipated, the HV told me he'll go when he needs to. I wrnt with the 3rd and on Monday afternoon when we arrived home post lunch (and scratchy throat in tow) he produced. Now let's not get into the ins and outs of my sons' deposits but it was NOTHING like prev extractions. Not the typical breastfed baby poo. How can one describe it delicately.... Well, all I can say is he'd put anyone off paying a trip to the local curry house. Yuk.
He then went another 24 hours and showed the HV his work when she popped in for his 6 week (6 weeks!) check yesterday morning. She's not concerned, but suggests maybe the FenuFail affected him more than me. What a waste of £7.99. Given I'm 24 hours in front on the milk supply, it ties in with when I started/stopped as last night I noticed we're back to standard poo*

Yes he is 6 weeks. In some ways I feel time has gone so fast yet in other ways I feel it's just right. I have no real sense of the week anymore. Don't bother asking the date today (which Husband did coincidentally when we arrived for our bank appt this morning as I planned, only to find I'd got the date wrong.. it's tomorrow - Still I got a Ploughmans out of it).
Days come and go and they roll into the nights without much distinction between the 2.
Oliver still feeds every 4 hours but we have noticed that after his tea time feed that he'll sleep for longer. For example last ngiht he fed at 4pm and went through til 10:30pm. I just wish he'd adopt this at night time. 3am is a killer.

His weight is right on the line. 50th centile. 10lb 9oz at 6 weeks. He is certainly reaping the beneifts of my milk.
His height and HC is ok too, a little over the 50th.

All in all, he is doing really well. All we need now is for the colic to bugger off because people, a baby crying non stop 3pm - 6pm is not good.

* I was astounded to learn and see there is a website dedicated to visually disected your babys' poo.

This day has been 50/50.

Oliver hasn't pooped for 2 days and he's begininning to get cranky. Therefore my afternoon has been filled with tears and frustration (his mainly). I'm a little concerned at his lack of activity in the backside dept as he normally fills 3-4 nappies in a 24hr period. He is wetting a lot of nappies which is re-assuring. Might give the HV a call tomorrow if it continues into the night.
I put him on the boob earlier on to try and sooth him and it did, for all of 10 minutes. A man than can't be soothed by a boob - So unlike his dad!

However, I try to look at the positive side as I was greeted with this sight this morning:

Today was blood test & weigh in day. Bloods for me to check my Iron levels have reached a satidfactory level. Weigh in for Oliver.

Oliver and I ventured out into the Autumnal weather this morning. Me resembling someone suitable for whaling. It looks like we might have a season that has arrived on time.
Our preperations for our venture were somewhat challenging. I got him dressed and fed by 09:00 and as my blood test was at 10:15 it meant I had time to dress, attempt a go with the mascara & walk at a leisurely pace. Oliver it seems had a different ideas and whilst chilling post feed, decided to fill his nappy, his sleepsuit and cover me and my dressing gown in his poo.
After undressing him and giving him and washdown, he decided to top it all off by peeing all over himself and his mat. How it got into his hair I'll never know but we then had to take a bath. Now, I've been lectured about bathing babies and ensuring there is an hour gap before leaving the house, so please don't rat on me when I confess that it was 30 mins post bath that I dragged him into the rain. He was well wrapped (and somewhat warm byt the time we reached the health centre) so I can rest easy that I shouldn't expect social services to bang on my door anytime soon.

So, we power walked to the health centre. It's a good mile and we managed it inside 15 minutes. I was a few minutes late booking in for my bloods but it didn't matter as there was a 20 minute delay (some idiot from S.ainsbury across the road had sliced their finger and was being assessed - possibly mentally).
Once we got called my bloods took a while. I am renound for being stingy with my blood. I love my blood so much that I am often scared to drink post test incase it spouts from all the holes they create.
The nurse coo'd over Oliver and was very pleased when upon asking how I'm feeding him, I answered I'm exclusivley expressing. Not many women can do this she said. Some give up as it's too tough, some simply don't have the patience, some just think it's a waste of good socialising time. I agree with all 3 but I'm persevering and it's going well... more on that another time.

Bloods done and 4 plasters later we went 3 doors down the corridor to the HV clinic where Oliver was weighed. He has gained 1 full lb in 2 weeks. He is now 10lb 4oz. HV is most pleased (I was a little concerned he'd not gained much.. just a feeling) and she has marked him as being on the 50th centile. Bang on the nose. I'm happy of course as it means what I'm giving him is sufficient.
I'm to carry on the 4oz feeds every 4 hours as per his routine. He never guzzles his milk and seems content with each fill.

On the way home I nipped into S.ainsburys and picked up some essentials and also found some sleepsuits for him. They have integrated scratch mits which, with his nails are a godsend. Someone please tell me how to trim an infants fingernails. They are too short for the clippers and filing doesn't work!

All in all he is doing well. His smiles brighten up my day and my heart melts each time. He's becoming more focused on me and Husband. He watches me walk away when I hand him to Husband in the evenings. (I feed him at 6pm and Husband arrives home just in time for cuddles and then he puts him down).
I caught him looking at his rattle this morning. He can't grab item yet but it'll happen soon I'm sure.

One thing's for certain. He does NOT like his cot. Hates it. I put him in there this afternoon for his nap and he screamed bloody murder. I put a sheet over the front to take away the 'open' feeling but he's not daft. It was a big fat fail so we came downstairs, had a cuddle and he went into his carrycot which has been the norm. He is outgrowing his moses basket. He has maybe 3 inches of room left lengthways so the cot will be in use soon. I just hope he's so tired at night that he can't be bothered to fuss about it.

The colic is easing. He has his moments but it's easing. We invested in Dr Browns' anti colic bottles. At £20 for 4 I expect them to sing and dance too but it's a price I'll pay if it means Oliver is in less discomfort. The In.facol has gone out the window. I am in love with Gripe Water (although no taste - my god it's foul).

On a more pleasing note, I am back in my pre pregnancy clothes. I actually brought 2 tops yesterday in a small size. What a confidence booster. Weight wise I am 2lb shy of my pre pregnancy weight. I'm happy with that! Still, I declared that I would shift a load post birth and with this in mind I've decided my goal is to lose 10kg. Sounds a lot I know but when I currently weigh in at a hefty 95kg? not so much!

I think I have an eye infection.

I noticed last night during Masterchef that my left eye was sore in the outer corner. I dismissed it thinking it was probably a war wound from a 5 weeks olds' post feed attack but it worsened and when I had a look in the mirror at bedtime it was weeping and kind of snotty. Marvellous. I put in some eye drops and went to bed hoping it would clear but when I got up to feed Oliver at 2am it was still sore, crusty and weeping. This morning it's not too bad but I've continued with the eye drops so I hope it clears and buggers off. That's the last thing I want right now.

I attempted to breastfeed Oliver yesterday morning. It was 6am, husband had gone to work and I was shattered so I got him of his basket, lay down next to him and he fed quite well from my left boob. He went back to sleep afterwards and whilst he brought a bit back up, I was happy he'd had a good fill. I was a little tender afterwards but it's normal. I then attempted it at 2am this morning. Big Fat Fail. My left nipple is in pieces and it's now covered in L.ansinoh along with a no entry sign. I was kind of hoping that I could breastfeed at night to save the warming of bottles and him fussing/getting upset it's all taking too long but alas, we're in the same boat we were in at the hospital when he was born. His latch is strong but he doesn't open wide enough, hence he chomps down on my nipple. Ouch! I'll be having a word with the Health Visitor at Tuesdays' weigh in to see if she can advise. Have I sealed his latching fate with the dummy?

Thursday passed with little tears. I was so consumed in trying to keep Oliver settled that there was rarely a time I could actually sit down let alone think about things. I sat down with Oliver at one point and explained he has a sibling watching over him. It felt good to talk to him about it, even though the reply I got was a scratch down my left cheek but I digress.

Colic is still rife in this household. I would like to say it's not as bad as it has been (or could be.. I've seen in my nephew what colic can really do) but it still plays havoc late afternoons. The Gripe Water is working as he is getting better albeit a bit fussy after feeds..
I just wish I could pin point what it is I'm eating that is upsetting him. We established the Jalfrezi curry I ate Tuesday evening was my own undoing. Weds night was not pleasant. I only drink decaf tea and coffee, I don't touch fizzy drinks, I've (begrudgingly) given up on chocolate. I'm wondering if it's dairy. I don't want to cut that out as it's a big deal and the Health Visitor advises against it unless in dire circumstances.

I have recently come under fire (from those irl) for having a routine with Oliver. Who said structure and routine was good eh? Comments have come my way about him feeding every 4 hours and the fact that he 'has to go to bed' at a certain time. For the record I belive putting him to bed early evening is a wonderful way for him to get used to the idea that it is indeed bedtime. Some folk have their babies downstairs with them until they go to bed. It's not a bad thing but each to their own.
so I'm going to give you a picture of a typical day for us (Oliver and I.. When husband is here we double team the poor mite) to see what you think:

05:30am - normal wake up time. He stirs, grunts, strains, gurgles etc

06:00am - I get up, change and feed him and put him back down in his basket. I express.

07:00am - 09:ooam - I shower, grab some toast and a cuppa, put some washing on, wash bottles/sterilise bottles and spend a small amount of time on the laptop catching up on various things.

09:00am - I express.

09:30am - He wakes, again putting the world to rights with the grunting

10:00am - Another feed (all feeds are 120ml/4oz except the tea time one)

10:30am - 12:oopm - Cue playtime/him having a colicky moment, eventually he settles. I try to express whilst tapping his bouncy chair with my foot and fighting the urge to glue his dummy to his lips. Don't talk to me about multi tasking!

14:00pm - Feed. Fight with colicky baby. Leave room to make a strong cuppa. Come back to crying colicky baby. Cuddle/soothe/sing to baby, attempt to eat something.

Miss expressing due to colicky baby.

16:00pm - Attempt to grab a cuppa & some sleep on the sofa - until colicky baby has other ideas. Normally manage to express for a short time about now.

17:30pm - Bathtime (he actually likes it)

18:00pm - Feed and put a somewhat chilled baby to bed.

18:30pm - 19:00pm - Aquire sore mouth from too much ssssshhhhhuushhh noises.

19:00pm - Husband returns from work, has a wash and takes over. Baby asleep in minutes.

19:01pm - I throttle husband then have a good cry. I express.

19:01 - 22:00pm - Dinner, relaxation, chatter, MasterChef Oz style, Shower (or bath together if we're feeling adventurous)

22:00pm - Feed somewhat sleepy baby and return him to slumberland. Express.

22:29pm - Tip away numerous cups of tea I've been unable to drink. Clear the sitting room of muzzies, rattles and his playmat.

22:30PM - Bed time for me whilst Husband catches up on emails/online game.

The night is filled with a feed at 2am (or near as dammit) a bit of a fuss when he won't burp and starts to cry/fight being burped & then we start the cycle over again. It's worth pointing out that when Husband is home off shift then this routine kind of hits the fan a bit. Only because we go out or Oliver just tends to be a little more settled when we're all home together and can often sleep for 5-6 hours after his 6pm feed. However, he soon settles back into the above when Husband returns to work.

I don't think there is anything wrong with the above. Routine is good. Yes, I appreciate Oliver is not quite 5 weeks old yet but this is not MY routine, it's his. Trust me, he dictates the events in this household.

What is 24 hours like for you?

To add: Oliver has been down since 09:ooam. As I have been typing he has stirred and it seems he wants to add more disruption to my Saturday morning plans. Mrs H is right.. it is a conspiracy and this is what he thinks to my plans:

Tomorrow is September 23rd.

Tomorrow marks 2 years since my miscarriage.

Tomorrow I will be remembering the events of that day along with the sorrow and grief that washed over Husband and I.

Tomorrow I will be remembering our baby, however short my pregnancy was.

Tomorrow I will be telling Oliver how he has a sibling watching over him.

Tomorrow I will be thinking how lucky we are to have Oliver in our lives.

Tomorrow is going to be tough as Husband has to work.

Tomorrow came far too soon.

Oliver is asleep and for this time of day let me tell you that is rare! So I'm grabbing the chance to blog.

We still have colic issues. Don't get me wrong, it's not so bad that he is screaming and withering in my arms at all hours but he is uncomfortable still and the Inf.acol seems to be wearing a bit thin.

One thing husband and I have noticed is that he always strains/grunts when he wakes in the night/morning. Not so much upon waking in the day and let me tell you, it's pretty hard to get back to sleep when I have him grunting loudly a foot from my bed. It is al though he is always struggling to fill his nappy. He is not constipated, trust me! but the grunting makes it sound like he is.

We took a walk to the health visitor yesterday. This walk is rather pleasent and only takes 15 minutes.
We arrived, grabbed a number (free for all Friday) and I got him undressed on my lap, something I haven't got the hang of mainly due to being only 5'3" and having a 29 inside leg. We got called and I put him on the scales butt naked and expecting him to scream bloody murder/pee/crap or all three but he did nothing. Just lay there gaxing at the HV.

9lb 4oz folks. That's a gain of 12oz in 10 days - No wonder his sleepsuits are getting rather snug!

We got dressed again - where he cordially farted so loud the room fell quiet - and made our way home.

The afternoon was then filled with tears (mainly mine) and screams (his) as he would NOT settle. He went from 12pm til 7pm on about an hour of sleep. At one point I was beginning to get frustrated so I put him down and went to make a cup of tea.. him still screaming. It is awful to leave a baby in that state but EVERYONE has told me to walk away when it gets too tough so I did. I had a good sob in the kitchen and got some odd looks from the dog, text husband to say I couldn't take much more and asked him to come home after work instead of going out for a drink to celebrate his co workers' birthday.
At 7m he walked in the door, I was upstairs with a freshly fed and changed baby (still unsettles albeit not crying) and when I saw him I promptly burst into tears.

I never expected looking after an infant to be easy, I'm not that naive but it is hard. I walk away to make lunch (at random times of the day) and it's like Oliver senses I'm about to do something that does not involve him. I can't even go upstairs to pee without a winge.

And on that note, he is stirring and I'm anticipating the crying game to begin all over again.

Thanks for the input regarding supply of breastmilk.

I collected the Symphony and brought it home, sterilised the accessories and promptly hooked myself up. I have purposely gone 3 hours without expressing (and it was a long walk to the surgery to collect the pump) so my breasts were somewhat relieved to be smothered with plastic.
I have made every effort to pump every 2 hours and although sometimes I go 3 sometimes 4 depending on what we're doing that day, I can tell that my supply has improved. I am producing average 140ml a time. Given Oliver is on 120ml (still wetting a lot of nappies) I have extra that is poured into a 'collection' bottle and put in the fridge. As it can be in there a good 5 days there is no issue with spoilage and it means I can make up a bottle from excess supply.

I'll be honest I'm not as far ahead as I'd like, with ony 3 bottles ready at a given time. I was hoping to get into a good pattern where I could begin to freeze the milk but I think that would seriously involve shipping Oliver off somewhere, locking the front door and becoming a recluse because let's face it, expressing milk every 2 hours puts a somewhat dampener on the social plans.
Take last night for example:

My outlaws are moving to Eastern Europe on Monday so my SIL threw a goodbye meal last night with just us 6. I was a little concerned I'd be fit to pop by 8pm (my breasts certainly have a way of telling me they are full - cue stripping the bed sheets most mornings & walking around arms folded in Tesco) but I took the pump with me thinking I'd just nip upstairs at DH's brothers' and be done with it. Only I couldn't. I was very aware that they would be aware of what I was doing and that made me anxious which in turn put me off. Suffice to say when we got home at 21:30pm my breasts were ready to explode.
I am very comfortable around Husbands' family but last night it was different. It was an 'activity' that is very intimate and I wasn't 100% happy to do it.

But I'm persevering. I pupmed at 22:00pm, 02:00am (when Oliver was fed) and I have not long produced another 130ml. Night times I'm happy to go the 4 hourly to reflect Olivers' feeds. I feed him, settle him then nip downstairs and pump for 20 minutes.. yes 2o minutes! then crawl back to bed unless it's the 6am feed where I'll stay up, have a cuppa and chill out with the news.

One thing I've noticed in the last 3 days is that Oliver always has really runny poo. I'd say it's diahrroea given its consistency. He has a touch of colic, we know that but he always seems to be straining, especially first thing in the morning when he wakes. The boy can fart like no other too. He puts a grown man to shame!
Will mention the above the the HV tomorrow. Is my diet affecting him that much? I confess I've had a penchant for Whole Nut recently and that contains caffeine which can irritate little ones' bellies but apart from that I eat a varied diet. I struggle with my 5 a day but my diet isn't bad. Everything in moderation and all that.
HV mentioned dairy possibly being an issue. I don't consume that much dairy if I'm honest. A splash of milk in my cuppa, 2-3 times a day. Cheese twice a week maybe. I haven't had a yoghurt for what seems like an age.

Sadly I think he'll be feeling the effects of last nights dinner in the next 24 hours or so. We had greek food (curtesy of greek SIL) and trust me... I'M already feeling the effects.. embarassingly.

I am still express feeding Oliver and I have taken in the Health Visitors advice to up his feeds to 120ml but he struggles with it and is saoking through nappies and clothes at an alarming rate. He now weighs 8lb 8oz (after losing a lot in the first week) so he's a good weight but 120ml seems an awful lot for feeds that we have down to every 4 hours (dare I say we're in a routine?!)

So my question to you all is this..

How much can/do you manage to express in one sitting, with both breasts pumped. I am struggling to hit 110ml every 2 hours and it takes 45 minutes and a bad back to get it. My left dominates over my right still but combined it's just not enough.

I am off to the clinic this afternoon to collect a pump. For £10 I can rent it as long as I need it and it's the Medela Symphony - the same I used in hospital so I know it should work. Hopefully it'll work better than the crappy electric hand held pump I have.

The health visitor called in earlier.

Oliver has regained weight and is now 8lb 8oz.. gaining a whopping 1lb 2oz.. the little gannet. He is healthy and she has advised to carry on with the Infacol as it sounds like he does indeed have a mild case of colic. Marvellous.

I am also to up his feeds to 4oz a time. I have to be honest here I really don't think I can supply that amount per session - so I've been told to express every 2 hours to give my boobs a wake up call.

Just call me Hermit from now on.

We just got back from registering Oliver. He is now officially a person and this now means I get the fantastic task of filling in god knows how many benefit claim forms. Still, at least I know I'll be stationary every 2 hours!

Woah there!

I can't believe Oliver is 2 weeks old tomorrow. 2 weeks? It seems a couple of days since I gave birth and was hobbling around the hospital ward hooked up like a back street junkie.

We are doing well. He has a touch of colic which sees him squirm and grunt quite often. Poor little man. I have been giving him Infacol as the gripe water is not for infants under 1 month (mum said it never did me any harm but I want to it by the book for my conscience)

He is sleeping for 4-5 hours, feeds, has moments of gazing and fuss then goes back to slumber. Overall I'd say his sleeping pattern is good.
We gave up on the breastfeeding. I was so hoping to return but I tried to feed him on my left 5 days ago and within minutes my nipple was raw again and this was after taking on the feeding consultants' advice. So we're still exclusively expressing. It is hard. I worry that I can't supply enough as my right side doesn't supply as it should. My left boob has always been larger than my right albeit not so noticeable to joe public but it's evident to me. Also, I always sleep on my left - could this be connected to my supply? I express every 4 hours and can often get 80ml from my left and no more than 20-25 from the right so it's not enough for 2 feeds (he is on 80ml 4 hourly).
I have the health visitor coming today so there'll be a few questions:

1. How can I increase the supply on my right
   
2. Can I mix 'batches'? Can I make up one bottle from the 12pm express with milk from 8am?

I am still rather sore down below. I have noticed that my ecternal stitches have healed which is great but now it itches.. and itches bad. I am still tentative when visiting the loo as the internal stitches are giving me jip. They will take up to 3 months to heal fully so my diet is on the forefront of my mind to ease each 'transaction'.
I am also sore up front and I have noticed that I am feeling worse as each day comes. I have this dreaded feeling that the catheter didn't agree with me as it now hurts to pee and I can feel pain and pressure around the area and up toward my bladder. Something else to get checked out.

The bruise is healing, slowly and with the aid of Arnica. Wonderful stuff.

One thing I'm really struggling with is the itching.. oh the itching. My lower belly is the worst area. I can sit for ages and scratch with all my might and still feel no relief. It looks like I've fallen in the nettles. My stretch marks on my upper belly itch too but not so bad and then there are my knees.
Whilst in the stirrups having an exam, husband pointed out that my knees looked red and I told them they itched.. bad. Now, almost 2 weeks later they are still red and itch.. bad. I could say it looks similar to eczema and it appears on both sides of both knees - a side effect from the epidural? I can't see much evidence online so that's another thing to mention today.

Still, it is all worth the itching and pain when I see that face looking at me. His eyes are still blue and I do hope they stay that way. Dark hair and blue eyes is a lovely look (I should know.. ha!)
His skin is not as dark as husband thought it would be. Husband has darker skin than most and he is often asked of his origin, to which he replies his hometown. Some struggle to believe him but it is true. There is not an ounce of foreign blood in him or generations before him. He and his brother tan wonderfully and have that lovely darker glow all year round the lucky swines.

Ok bear with me here… this is long and [‘m sure there are parts I’ve missed:

We made the most of Sunday 22nd chilling out. We went to lunch at our favourite pub and although I was feeling contractions, I didn’t make a big deal of it as they were so sporadic. It was at the pub that I noticed the change in colour of my discharge when I went for a wee and I knew something was happening. I was glad as I’d been waiting so long for something to happen!
Sunday night I decided to hoover out the car. No idea why really as it wasn’t particularly in need of it but I was a bit restless. I then decided that to take my mind of the now somewhat frequent and ‘different’ contractions, I’d have a tinker on the Xbox with DH. Something I rarely rarely do. I guess there’s something therapeutic about shooting the crap out of terrorists? What DH found amusing is that every 7-8 minutes I had to pause the game, breathe through a contraction then furiously scribble the time and duration. Suffice to say the game we played took a while! (I still kicked his arse though).

I went to bed around 11pm and carried on timing contractions and by this time I knew things were happening as they felt so different. Low down instead of the higher BH feeling. We had a go on the online contraction counter thing-a-me-bob but it was pointless when DH decided he needed a shower.
By 2am I hadn’t slept at all and I was beginning to feel most uncomfortable so I rang the hospital and told them what was happening. They suggested we go in to be checked but at 6 mins apart the contractions didn’t sound strong enough.

Of we trundled to the hospital in the treacherous rain. It was awful, with standing water everywhere and because DH had to drive slower, the journey was more painful for me. With each contraction I was clinging onto the overhead handle and breathing. DH kept saying things to make me laugh (unintentionally I might add, he has the knack of making me giggle) and it was so painful to laugh I had to tell him to be quiet and just drive.

We got to the hospital at 02:30am and after pacing in a room/having back rubs I was assessed and the midwife said I was only 2cm. I wasn’t disappointed as I was at least happy I was indeed in labour! We were sent on our way as it was not enough to keep me in so at 4am we arrived back home where DH went to bed to get some pre labour shut eye and I jumped in the bath. It helped a little and when I got out an hour later I wanted to get back in! I dozed on the sofa until 7am when the contractions started to come on more frequent at 5 mins. They were also more intense and I was starting to get the controlled deep breaths out. I called the hospital and they told us to go back in. An hour later (and through rush hour traffic) we arrived but not before the contractions decided to come every 3 mins in the car. It was the most uncomfortable car ride in my life, with every light at red, speed bumps feeling more prominent and the city being full of arsehole drivers.
We made it to the labour ward and it took me 10 mins to get from the lift to a room where another midwife (the most fantastic woman in the world!) announced I was 4 cm and they’d keep me in. She literally force fed me toast and tea as I’d not eaten properly the night before and let me do what I wanted/what my body wanted me to do which was pace back and forth then lean forwards against the wall each time a contraction appeared. Taking the weight from my back with one foot in front of the other really helped (as did back rubs from DH once he got the knack).

At tea time she examined me again and declared I was 5-6 cm and asked if I wanted the epidural.
We’d previously discussed pain relief and as I hadn’t had any gas and air as I planned to up til then, she advised I was doing so well to get to 6cm on my own that we’d see how I went. However I decided that yes I wanted the epidural as the contractions were now very painful. So it was set up and I was getting that cold sensation before I knew it. DH had to find a happy place while they inserted it as he is petrified of needles. He was so good!
30 mins later we managed to get a little sleep (30 mins or so) and then I felt a gush as though I’d literally wet myself. It was my waters and they were coming out so fast! This is when things intensified and it was then that the fantastic midwife announce she was going off shift. Aggghh! I was so upset a she had been wonderful and so supportive thus far.
We met the nightshift midwife and although I try not to judge too quickly, I could tell I wasn’t going to enjoy her company as much as the last.

At around midnight I started to feel pain again and my epidural was topped up. I was still only 6cm according to new midwife and this news made mw cry a little. 4 hours and I’d not dilated anymore? No way.
I was given the gas and air (whilst still on the epidural) which was a little confusing but I said nowt because I was too busy sucking up the entinox and all it’s hallucinating goodness. Some say it makes them sick but it just made me feel like I’d had one too many glasses of red. Not an unpleasant feeling but I didn’t like it as I felt out of control.
It was an hour later and me really struggling through the pain that the consultant came in and basically bollocked the midwife. A woman with an epidural should NOT need extra pain relief – that’s the whole point of the epidural. So I got a lovely anaesthetist come in to top me up and once I got that cold feeling in my back I knew it’d be ok soon. Sure enough it worked.

The next 3 hours are somewhat hazy. DH says I was in and out of doziness. He tried to read his book but then at 4:30am the registrar examined me and told me I was 9cm and that as Olivers’ heartbeat was fluctuating, he’d need a clip to monitor him. They didn’t bother in the end as the other monitor was picking it up fine but then they took a scraping off his head and checked his bloods. 20mins later I was examined again and told I was 10cm and that it was time to push. I couldn’t feel a thing so the midwife had to tell me to push. I must say, trying to push when you can’t feel what/where you’re pushing is a bit surreal… as is being told you’re 10cm and it’s time to push. I was a little overwhelmed that this was it!

30 mins is all I was given to push given Olivers’ HB and if by then he wasn’t here then they’d intervene with forceps. 30 mins later I had pushed with all my might and he was close but it was no good so out came the stirrups, off went half the bed and in came 4 or 5 nurses. It all became a bit manic.

The registrar told me to push and 10 seconds later I had Oliver on my chest. 8lb 4oz. He was that keen to come out. He had grade 2 meconium so he was mucky but it didn’t bother me. I cleaned him whilst he was on me and DH could only look on with tears in his eyes in amazement. He was whisked off to be checked by the DR and handed back to DH whilst I was assessed for damage and then came some bad news. I had a 3rd degree tear as the registrar didn’t have time to perform the planned episiotomy. Oliver was just took eager to come out. I had lost over a litre of blood and was still losing it so the only option was surgery quick sharpish and a transfusion. I was wheeled off down to theatre within 10 mins of delivering feeling rather worried. DH was sat with Oliver looking concerned but he was assured all was well.

In theatre I remember being hooked up with the spinal block, the screen going up in front of me. I was so tired by now having been up a good 40 hours. I remember the radio in the background playing a Michael Buble track and I drifted in and out of sleep. 2 hrs later I was wheeled to recovery and apparently made some remark about how nice it looked outside. The registrar explained my situ downstairs but it was the last thing on my mind. I saw DH waiting in the chair with Oliver in his tank next to him and I welled up.

I sent DH home about 30 mins later to call everyone and get some sleep as he too was deprived and I caught some shut eye in between staring at Oliver non stop. It was a bit surreal that this little bundle was mine!
By lunchtime I was being wheeled to the ward which I shared with 3 other women and their newborns. Not the ideal situation but who was I to argue.

From there I had 3 nights of zero sleep, hair pulling, agonising trips to the toilet as I was so weak and ear piercing cries from babies everywhere. It drove me crazy and I broke down the 3rd morning when the nurses bounced in at 6am. I was determined to come home but as I needed a blood transfusion due to the loss in labour then I had to be monitored. Thursday I spent hooked up to the bloods.. 3 units went in and Friday afternoon I was finally allowed to leave with the promise that I was feeling better and knew how to take my meds. Clexane shots each night, laxatives, painkillers and antibiotics. They screwed my arm up by piercing a vein and now I have a black arm due to the blood seeping into my muscle.. it will take a long time for it to fade. It looks hideous.

It was an experience I will never/hope not to forget.. ever. Even though it was agony at times and traumatising for us all, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

He comes in peace:

Taken whilst I was in theatre - More on that another time.

Oliver Joseph arrived in the early hours of Tues 24th Aug. 8lb 4oz. A head of hair any scouser would be proud of.

3rd degree tear and a lot of blood loss resulted in me being released this afternoon.

More to come soon!

Disclaimer: I make no apology for the grossness that may follow!

Last night I indulged in yet another Jalfreze (it's worth pointing out that Husband picked up a box of 6 from our staff shop for £2. Yes that's right, £2 so I'm game for a ready meal at 33p a pop).
We scoffed our processed junk and sat to watch Lord of the Rings. A film that if I'm honest I've had zero desire to see. Not my thing but it was bearable and Husband was keen to watch it so I sat the 3 hrs.

It was at 3am this morning that I woke with what felt like menstrual cramps.. constantly. That horrid dull heavy ache you get right before the witch shows her face. I drifted in and out of sleep and BH and woke again at 7am with sore hips so I got up, made a cup of tea and watched a bit of news. I started to to feel regular contractions, regular enough to write down times and durations (every 9-10 mins and average a minute long).
I decided I was too tired to watch the depressing news so I went back for a lay down and slept from 8am til 11:30am - result! I did wake up flat on my back which made me curse but I tell thee, I was so so comfortable I could of stayed that way all day.

When I got up and dressed at midday I noticed the contractions returned but I could tell they were still no more than 8 minutes or so apart so Husband suggested we go out to lunch given its a lovely day and he's starting to get cabin fever. I felt a little trepidation as I was getting these blasted contractions and they were stopping me in my tracks and therefore I didn't want my lunch ruined. Still, we made it to the local pub not more than 5 min drive away (me? walk? Ha!) and ordered our food. I was ravenous and pigged out on a pork & apple burger with salad... and it was delicious.
Whilst we were waiting for our food to arrive, I visited the loo and straight away felt a funny sensation. The best to describe it is as though I was passing bubbles. I then noticed that all was not as it should be when I wiped. As I exlained to Husband it looked as though I'd used the loo roll/my liner as a snot rag during the worst cold ever (he can take this sort of grossness).
It was tinged a bit with colour so I thought instantly that it must be my plug.. what else could it be? I told Husband when I got back to our table and he replied with moving from opposite me to my 2 o'clock. Charming.
I was having contractions all through lunch and after a nap on the sofa this afternoon whilst Husband watched the BTCC I woke, went for a wee and noticed the same thng happen as before.
So, as it stands I think I am losing my plug. I say "think" because I'm really not sure. I guess if I continue seeing evidence then I might believe it. This means that things are actually in progress and it's about bloody time!

I have just hoovered the car out, washed the dishes and I have a nice warm bath on the agenda tonight and then if I'm feeling adventurous, I might even crack open the bar of mint Aero that is in my fridge.
I have my 41 wk midwife appt tomorrow and Im reeeally hoping I don't have to go... because I'm reeeally hoping I'll be 20 miles away panting like a dog on a hot day.

I am contracting still every 8-10 minutes and the pain is certainly further south than of late. Good sign I'm thinking.

Watch this space!