Friday 30 July 2010

My Baby

My baby is a joker. Well, you'd have to be to implant just in time for an April Fool's Day BFP.

My baby is learning how to tease his or her sisters. Poor Natasha's had a foot poking her in the back as she's sat on my lap several times lately.

My baby likes the same TV shows that I do. Its first strong, definite kicks came when my husband and I were watching a DVD of our favourite show and ever since then the movements come thick and fast whenever we watch it.

My baby has very definite ideas about the kind of cuisine it needs me to consume. It likes to invent new recipes on my behalf and makes me cook them, then makes me finish everyone else's leftovers! Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

My baby likes its own space. It hates it when my laptop rests against my bump for a moment and will kick and kick until I move it away.

I'm loving learning all about my baby's personality before he or she even arrives. I'm enjoying the precious weeks and months of bonding time before I get to hold my little bundle in my arms. I know that when that time comes it's not going to take away the pain and the loss it's taken to get to that moment but I cannot wait for the sunshine it will bring to our lives.

Thursday 29 July 2010

Worst Cookery Lesson Ever

Part one of an occasional series: Misty's Highly Inaccurate and Vague Recipes!



I love to cook. I adore it. I am at home in the kitchen, randomly boiling or frying or grilling various food to see what happens. I have an issue with following recipes though, the issue being that it's just not me. I'll get an idea for something to make, I'll look up about three or four recipes online and then I'll just decide that I have a better idea and totally ignore the recipe.

This is good and bad - it means I don't have a diva-like strop if I accidentally add too many tomatoes but on the downside it makes it very difficult to share my recipes because I have no concept of measurements. Seriously, no concept at all.

So here is my attempt at sharing Misty's Inaccurate and Vague Spaghetti Bolognese:

You'll need:

Beef mince - how much? No idea. Whatever looks like enough to feed your family.
Stock Cubes
Cornflour
Water
1 large tin of chopped tomatoes
Tomato puree
Spaghetti - enough to feed your family
Random things you find in your cupboard that you want to add

First of all, fry the beef mince in a pan until it's brown all over. Poke it a bit with a spatula, flip it, stir it and mix it around. Now, if you're a normal person who likes onion then you can chop and fry some of that first. If you're weird like me and my husband and don't like them then leave them out! We also don't like garlic so there's none of that in my spag bol. Yes, we are a match made in heaven!

When the beef is brown and cooked through, drain off the nasty, yucky fat that's come out of it. The result will be a big pool of gunk, like so:




Mmm, lovely!

Anyway, next open a tin of chopped tomatoes and pour them in. Mix into the mince, then add a few squirts of tomato puree. Mis-aim the tube, squirt it over the back of the oven, mutter under your breath about how much cleaning you're going to have to do later and put the tube away before you can cause any more damage with it.

Crumble in two beef stock cubes - more or less depending on taste and how much you are making, and also depending on whether you are pregnant and craving beef stock cube and end up eating half a cube. Add some boiling water, however much or little you like. Add a little cornflour to thicken the sauce, stir well and leave to simmer for half an hour until the liquid has reduced.

Next, start boiling your spaghetti, spend the next ten minutes worrying about whether you've cooked too much or too little, shout at your daughter for trying to climb into the guinea pig cage and then take the pasta off the boil.



Drain, serve, top with sauce and a little cheese, then devour your highly inaccurate, experimental and vague spaghetti bolognese!

Oh, and then don't accidentally leave a bowl of leftovers sitting on the bed while trying to clear the table because this happens:



Yes, you find your darling daughter raiding them behind your back! At least they didn't go to waste!

For dessert: Bolognese Pants!


One Set of Rules

I try really, really hard not to have one set of rules for one of my girls and a different set for the other but sometimes it's really hard. It's going to be even harder when Baby #3 comes into the mix. It's not that I play favourites or willingly give one of them more or less scope for their actions but they are very different sometimes in terms of personality and intention.

Just now I was nibbling on a biscuit. Ahh, dry biscuits are my friends right now. This is the first pregnancy I have had morning sickness with and although it had faded for a while it seems to be back now. Natasha loves my biscuits while Angelica just pretends to love them to fit in with 'the in crowd'. I generally break a biscuit in half, then in half again and give each of them a quarter but today Natasha decided this was unacceptable and swiped a whole biscuit from the packet. It was done so innocently that I couldn't do anything except to laugh - and watch my potential snack be gobbled down by my youngest daughter.

When Angelica tried to steal a whole biscuit a few minutes later and got a telling-off I felt pretty guilty for it, but her actions were different to her sister's. She has a 17-month advance on Natasha and knows only too well what she's doing. She gives us a sly look as though to say, "Go on then - what are you going to do about THIS, huh?!" Plus, she doesn't even like the biscuits!

Natasha is approaching her second birthday and still has a lot to learn. She wasn't swiping the biscuit to be naughty, she just thought it was unfair that Mummy got the bigger snack when she's a growing girl. There is a certain naivety about Natasha that I love. Angelica was a lot more knowing, even as a baby. She does a lot of things deliberately to find out what the outcome will be while Natasha is pretty laid back and coasts through the day, discovering things more by accident than purpose.

It's like Natasha climbing on the bed and running across it just to get from A to B, not thinking about the consequences while Angelica will climb on the bed and watch us carefully, trying to prompt a reaction by copying what Natasha has done.

Angelica is starting to understand that she should know better and I can see she comprehends why she gets a telling off because she looks jolly guilty afterwards. Natasha will be reaching that point soon too, but for now I'm trying to make the most of her last little bit of innocence before she becomes a knowing young lady trying to push her parents the same way as her sister does.

I'm trying hard to show consistency. I know that it is the best way to be. But I can't help giving a giggle at the happy young lady sitting in the middle of a big pile of biscuit crumbs.

Tuesday 27 July 2010

Monday 26 July 2010

The Nerves are Back

One week from now I'll have had my anomaly scan. I'll know whether everything is alright and (hopefully) whether this is a little bundle of blue or pink. The nerves only truly hit me this morning. I had a dream about it last night and all my fears started coming out. I think I have been doing much better at keeping my fears in check recently and trying to just enjoy the rest of my pregnancy but I am starting to get nervous again now.

Lately I have been thinking about the regret I have from the start of my pregnancy. My regret is that I broke a promise I made to myself just before I got my BFP (Big Fat Positive). My BFP came at a strange time for me because I had just decided that I couldn't handle another miscarriage and to call a halt to TTC. At the same time I made a promise to myself that if I did ever get another BFP that I would enjoy every moment and throw myself into making the most of every day that I had with my baby, however long or short that time would be.

I broke my promise to myself very quickly. I went into hiding almost. I was too scared to talk about my pregnancy on JM because I was aware that the more boards I joined, the more I would have to leave. I had thrown myself into enjoying my pregnancy with Daisy and having to retrace my steps and say goodbye was one of the hardest parts after losing her. I didn't take any belly pics for weeks because I didn't want another set that ended abruptly. I was too scared to let my work colleagues guess what was going on because I didn't want to have to send around another round of emails if things went wrong again.

I introduced myself to my Due Date Club and then felt too nervous to join in the conversation. I rejoined other pregnancy boards and then felt too worried to post again. I felt in a way that I was worried about jinxing things if I spoke about it too much. I kept making new promises to myself - that after the next scan I would start to relax, and then the next scan and so on. I wished away the first three months of my pregnancy. In all honesty it wasn't until I felt the first hard, definite kicks around a month ago that I actually relaxed and started to enjoy things.

Now I look back at the wasted months at the start when I could have been making the most of things and letting myself bond with my baby instead of worrying about losing another pregnancy. I have started to really make the most of this pregnancy now - I am enjoying everything from picking out new bedding to thinking about a coming home outfit for the baby. I even feel like I look pretty cute during this pregnancy - certainly better than I did with my girls (isn't that supposed to be a sign I'm having a boy?)

But I could have been enjoying all these things so much sooner if I had kept my promise. I am normally the kind of person that tries to enjoy every day because you never know what's going to happen tomorrow. I wish that I could go back and relive the first few weeks all over again.

I catch myself thinking 'Next time...' more and more often now. I feel strange letting myself think about a possible #4 when I had stopped TTC #3. We're a long way away from reaching that stage but already I am questioning whether I could cope with the possibility of things being difficult again. I keep coming back to an image of us as a family with four children though. It's something I can't shake.

For now, I just want to get past next Monday and feel safe and secure with this pregnancy again. Right now Monday feels like a lifetime away. I'm going to be counting down the days until then - while not trying to wish any more of my pregnancy away.

Sunday 25 July 2010

My Stinky Daughter

My children are stinkers. In one case, that is quite literally true.

I love my girls with all my heart and generally they are very well-behaved but once in a while one of them does something totally out of character and really makes me cross. In the last 24 hours they've both taken a turn.

Yesterday I took them for a walk at lunchtime. We didn't have very much to do - pick up a couple of soft drinks and some juice, buy a fresh loaf from the market, scout around for potential birthday presents for Natasha - that was about all.

Angelica has been let increasingly 'off the leash' as it were. She's grown out of the' running off in public' phase and has learned to wait at the crossings for the green man to come on. She can generally be trusted to walk demurely beside the pushchair, holding my hand when necessary. I have stopped panicking about her running off at a hundred miles an hour or committing the crime of shoplifting when peppers are near.

It was market day in the town so it was a little busier than usual. Angelica was walking along quite happily, chatting away about the pigeons and the ice cream van she could see ahead when suddenly she veered off to the right. I was taken by surprise, I wasn't expecting her to suddenly change direction and I spotted - too late - what she was honing in on.

A puddle.

A great big puddle.

Puddles are like catnip to Angelica. She cannot resist them and she goes crazy for them.

Before I could tell her not to she'd launched into the puddle with a great big splash. In one moment her shoes, socks and trousers were soaked through. I couldn't understand where, on a hot and sunny Saturday afternoon, a huge puddle had even come from. My eyes followed the trail of water along the slanting path until I saw exactly where the water had come from.

Unfortunately it had come from the melted ice around the fresh fish on a market stall.

"WE-E-E-E-ETTTTTTT!" Angelica cried, waddling across to me like a penguin and trying to haul her fishy pants further up her legs.

"That is exactly why we tell you not to jump in puddles!" I cried.

"Wet legs in the trousers!" she sobbed, "need clean trousers!"

"We're in the middle of the town!" I didn't really know what to do for the best, "we can't go all the way back home!"

"Mummy, help!" she cried, "Get more trousers!"

There was only one solution. I marched my waddling, fishy daughter to the closest clothes shop and found the cheapest pair of trousers.

"Take my trousers off?" Angelica asked hopefully.

"We need to pay for these first," I told her, "Then we'll go up to the toilets and get you changed."

I carried on marching to the checkout when I realised she was no longer waddling next to me. I stopped and turned around to see my darling daughter with her trousers around her ankles, in the middle of a busy shop, trying not to fall over as she tried to pull them over her shoes. To say I was not amused is an understatement!

One purchase and one trip top the toilets later, Angelica was far happier and about 80% less fishy, but I think this time she may have learned her lesson about why puddles are only to be entered under express permission from her parents!

As for my other little stinker... well, waking at midnight, staying wide-awake, and refusing to go back to sleep or even to be quiet culminated in an unexpected and definitely unwanted trip out for the two of us at four in the morning... but that's a whole other story!

Thursday 22 July 2010

One Sore Little Finger

It takes a lot to make my blood boil but I am furious right now.

My poor Angelica is sitting with her new cuddly toy and a rare chocolate biscuit, telling her daddy all about the plaster on her finger. She's a very hardy young lady, rarely ever gets hurt or sick and when she does she takes it in her stride, but she had a horrible experience in the supermarket this afternoon that's left me fuming.

She was happily walking along beside me one minute and crying her eyes out the next as her finger caught on a sharp piece of metal jutting out from a chiller cabinet. The next thing I knew there was blood dripping everywhere, my strong little girl was screaming like crazy and Natasha was in tears because her sister was upset. I tried frantically to clean and wrap her finger with clean tissues but between the blood soaking through and Angelica feeling so upset bits of tissue just seemed to start flying everywhere.

Here's the bit that made me angry. Two shop assistants walked right by without doing anything or asking if we needed help. They could easily see that Angelica was hurt and could hear me talking loudly about needing plasters - they even looked at us - but just passed by. There was also a mother with two children in the same aisle, just behind us, who stood staring. I thought the mother at least would ask if everything was OK but instead she gave her a dirty look, as though she was just being naughty. There is a huge difference between an 'I'm going to have a tantrum' cry and an 'I've really hurt my finger and I need a plaaaaaaaaasteeeeeeeeer!' cry. It was like Angelica's injury became a spectator sport!

I tried to track down someone to help, hoping someone would issue us with a plaster at the very least, but to no avail. Apparently, "Can you help my daughter?" has become a secret code for rush-down-the-next-aisle. In the end I had to take what we already had to the check-out and try to pay as fast as possible so I could go and buy some plasters. We had been queuing (and crying) for five whole minutes before one of the assistants at a different checkout even turned in our direction. By this point I was at the front of the queue and had to pay for our things so her offer of calling for the person in charge of the first aid kit came far too late.

Some plasters were duly acquired from the chemist next door and I dressed her finger quickly. A call home to daddy, a new toy and a chocolaty treat all helped to stop the tears but there's going to be an angry letter heading in the direction of a certain supermarket before too long.

Wednesday 21 July 2010

D-MER

I have been getting so excited lately about all the things I can look forward to about our expanding family. I've finally started to really relax and enjoy my pregnancy, think about the future and start collecting together everything I'll need when he or she arrives.

Then, out of the blue, yesterday I was struck by one fear. I had been excited by the thought of breastfeeding again - if that's what the baby wants to do. My eldest never took to breastfeeding - or being a baby in any way. She wanted to grow up, have her own room, be a big girl and certainly not spend half the day attached to my breast. My youngest on the other hand took to it right away and still occasionally nurses when she is upset or unwell.

I loved breastfeeding her, but there was one part of it that I put out of my mind until yesterday. When she was a couple of weeks old - I'm not sure how many exactly - I started to get terrible feelings every time she latched onto my breast. I couldn't explain it, or even describe it. It was something like awful, terrible shame mixed with a feeling of dread like something terrible was going to happen. As time went by the feeling worsened and became a terrible sense of despair. I didn't know what was happening or why I was feeling this way.

I was afraid to talk about it in case people accused me of having some kind of psychological issue with breastfeeding. I was scared that they would think I was going crazy or that I had post-partum depression. I knew none of those things were true. The feelings would only last for around a minute and then disappear, and only happened when she first latched on or swapped breasts.

After this had been going on for a few weeks I felt so upset that I just ended up Googling 'Bad feelings while breastfeeding'. I was surprised when I discovered quickly that I was not alone.

D-MER (Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex) is a condition which is thought to be linked to dropping Dopamine levels at let down. There is very little medical knowledge or research into it right now but it is real. Its severity differs between women and even between each time they have breastfed. Some women barely notice it while others are chronically affected.

The first website I discovered was D-MER.org, which was an absolute godsend to me in the months I suffered from this. As soon as I read the first page, describing what D-MER is and is not, I burst into tears. It was the first time that I had a reason for the way I was feeling and a validation that it was not a psychological issue or any kind of PPD. I read and read everything that I could that night, trying to take it in.

I found it extremely hard to talk about. I was afraid still of what others would say. I had been on JM a while but was still too nervous to ask if anyone else had suffered from it for a long time. I couldn't even find the words to explain it to my DH, who I can usually talk to about anything. Eventually I sat down and wrote him an email, explaining what I was going through and with a link to some of the information I had read. It was easier than trying to explain it verbally when I knew I would probably cry or not be able to explain it properly.

When he read the email he hugged me tightly and told me I could tell him any time the bad feeling was there, and he would do anything he could to help. I felt relieved that I'd finally told someone, but I also knew it was something I had to pretty much get through on my own.

I carried on. Natasha loved breastfeeding. When she was around 7 months old I noticed the bad feelings didn't strike as often or as hard. Soon after that they disappeared completely.

I am so glad I didn't let it stop me from breastfeeding because I have loved nursing my youngest, and I hope that I will be able to breastfeed again this time around. But I can't help worrying that those awful feelings will return and the D-MER will come back.

At least this time I am aware that it can happen. There is extremely little information about it and I am not even sure it is widely recognised by the medical profession. Certainly no midwife or LC I have ever met has mentioned this.

If I had been aware that this can happen then I would have been prepared and I wouldn't have been so scared when it did. I hope that one day more is known about this and no one will have to suffer in silence.

Monday 19 July 2010

Down The Toilet

Angelica proved to us yesterday that she is some kind of amazing memory master.

We went to our favourite Italian restaurant for lunch. She's not big on actually eating when we go out but she's always well-behaved and enjoys the crayons and pictures the restaurant provide to colour with. It's no big deal; making a child feel bad for not eating in a public place is something I'm never intending to do. When it's done to you as a child yourself you learn that there are certain things you don't want to pass on to the next generation.

Natasha on the other hand will quite happily eat a while cheese and tomato pizza by herself, while my husband and I were looking forward to our lasagnes.

It had been a couple of months since we'd last been but Angelica clearly remembered the place. As soon as we sat down she decided to give us a recap of that had happened the last time we'd eaten there to set the standard for the day:

"Natasha eats a pizza and Daddy goes for a wee!"

The one time I ever recall my DH using the toilet in the restaurant, Angelica set it to memory as a vital part of the whole going-out-for-lunch experience.

"Yes," my husband hissed quietly, "I did go for a wee."

"Daddy goes for a wee!" Angelica repeated proudly, obviously pleased with her astounding memory.

The rest of the restaurant seemed fairly interested in what else our daughter might say about the family's toilet habits at this point but then someone brought over some crayons and Daddy's previous trip to the toilet was forgotten.

I don't think my husband is going to forget it for a while though!

Friday 16 July 2010

The Gender Question

I have made a slightly selfish decision.

In just over 2 weeks we will be finding out if this baby is a little girl or boy. I am really excited and looking forward to it so much but there's one thing that's getting me down, and that is the thought of other people's reactions.

It was bad enough when we discovered Natasha was a girl. I was over the moon - I really didn't have a preference but there was a part of me that was thrilled that I would be having two children of the same gender. I liked the thought that they could grow up with a real sisterly bond. I'd have felt the same if our first child had been a boy and we had another son. I was brimming over with excitement when I told my friends and family and I was not prepared for the slightly sympathetic looks and the disappointed sighs.

"Oh dear... Maybe you'll have a boy next time."

"Ohh.... I'm sorry. You were wanting a boy, weren't you?"

"Don't you know how to make boys?"

"Oh. Another girl."

"Was your husband very disappointed?"

It really hurt our feelings, especially my husband who was constantly portrayed as being desperate for a son, just because the father is 'supposed' to want a boy.

Not everyone responded this way of course. People with two or more children of the same gender excitedly told me how much fun it was going to be to watch them grow up together, others who knew what we went through conceiving Angelica were just thrilled for us to have another healthy baby on the way, but there were so many others who seemed to have a very narrow opinion of what a family was supposed to be.

I know I am in a lose/lose situation with baby number three. If (as I suspect) this is a boy all I'm going to hear is how 'thrilled' I must be that I'm having a boy this time. If it's another girl (as my husband suspects) then all I'll hear is how 'sorry' they are that I'm not having a boy. I just don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear either of those responses. We didn't want a 'boy' or a 'girl' - we just wanted another member of the family to love, to laugh with, to learn with, to grow with. Whether this is a boy or a girl makes no difference to us, except that I'll know whether to buy a blue or a pink blanket and whether my DH or I will win our bet!

It's taken me months to feel safe and settled in this pregnancy so I'm not going to let anyone else's views on gender ruin the rest of it for me. We've decided to keep the gender to ourselves, aside from a few select people. Yes, I'll be shouting it from the rooftops on here but to those we know IRL the story is that baby will be keeping its legs tightly closed. Who knows - he or she still might!

All I want to know is that the baby is healthy and doing just what he or she should be doing. I'm excited and nervous all at once, but I'm not going to let anyone's stupid comments ruin a happy day. Two weeks and two days to go!

Tuesday 13 July 2010

A Planned-Surprise

Natasha is coming up upon her second birthday. She's very similar to her sister in some ways and very unique in others. She's a definite mummy's girl while Angelica is more attached to her daddy. When I come from from work I head a fast padding of feet and little Natasha runs out into the hallway, her arms wide open. She climbs onto my lap when I'm resting and sits there while she eats her snack, watches some TV or plays with her toys.

She is a quiet little thing who knows a lot of words but prefers to use them sparingly while her sister chatters on all day long. She sits down often with a book, turning the pages and examining every inch of the pictures, turning it the right way up if it happens to be upside down. She has a wild mop of bed hair when she wakes up in the morning that always makes me giggle.

Natasha was our planned surprise. As her birthday draws closer I've been thinking a lot about how surprised I was to get my BFP. I think it's amazing that either side of her conception I had such difficulty getting a sticky bean and yet she just held on in there for all she was worth.

My periods returned quickly after Angelica was born. I wasn't happy to see such a fast return from everyone's least favourite relative, Aunt Flo, but it did bring about the question of whether we were going to TTA (Try To Avoid) or to try again quickly. With the issues we'd had conceiving our first, having a successful pregnancy and my endometriosis we decided to let things happen as they would. We loved being parents, couldn't believe how lucky we were to have this amazing new member of our family and knew that we wanted our family to grow.

For a couple of months we did try to conceive. I had a chemical pregnancy early on - I don't think my body was ready to support another pregnancy yet - and I longed for another baby. Then my health went downhill and I was unable to even DTD ('Do The deed') for over a month. Certainly there was no baby making going on, there was no way that I could have coped with a pregnancy physically even if we'd been able to make love at the right time.

One November evening I started to feel familiar, severe O pains. I'd never really had ovulation pain before I had my eldest but now I was in no doubt when I was ovulating every month. I didn't even use OPKs that month, I knew what was going on. I was still having a difficult time with my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome but I just had this feeling that this could be our month and had to try. I don't know why, it just felt like a special night.

The next day I walked around in a kind of a daze. I didn't know why I felt so certain that we'd caught it this time because we'd had so much trouble the first time around. Our daughter was only 9 months old, we'd only had a couple of tries, it didn't seem likely that we would conceive so fast.

The following week and a bit dragged past. It was literally the longest 2 week wait of my life. I had in my mind the ultra-early BFP I'd had with Angelica at 8 DPO and when 8DPO arrived I took a test, fully expecting a line, but all I got was a BFN. The next day I POAS again but again received nothing but a plain, white space staring back at me. However, my LP was short at the time and my period was already late so I was torn between staying hopeful and admitting defeat. At 10 DPO I took another test - well, more like 3 or 4 - and all were negative.

When I got to 11DPO I'd given up. I didn't know where my period was but I had bigger things to think about as a big storm caused a leak in our ceiling. I remember spending an hour on the phone angrily to the letting company about how badly they were maintaining the property and doing a lot of mopping up, then falling asleep.

When I woke up I thought about how exhausted I was at the start of my pregnancy with Angelica. I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I remember my heart thumping as I thought about it and wondered if I should take just one more test.

All I had left were a couple of cheapies so I dipped one and waited. When a faint line started to appear I almost passed out. After days of BFNs I seriously thought my previous hope had been wrong. The line was so faint that I didn't dare truly believe it, I couldn't let myself in case it was an evap, and the next morning when I dipped another one I actually got a BFN.

I felt absolutely hollow. Was I having another chemical? Had I just been staring at an evap the night before?

On my way to work that morning I popped into the chemist to buy two things; firstly an umbrella to fend off the rain and secondly my first ever Clearblue Digital test. I needed a definite answer, one way or the other. I was planning to take it after work but by morning break I was in a complete state. I was a nervous wreck. I had an almighty headache and I was cramping, and felt like AF was on her way.

Eventually I couldn't stand waiting any longer. I confided in one of my best friends who became even more impatient to know than I was and hurried me off to the toilets.

The wait for the egg timer to finish doing its thing felt like at least an hour instead of three minutes. I can't even remember what we talked about while we waited. It could have been anything from politics to furniture polish for all I can recall. Eventually she moved toward the test and took a peek.

"Go and have a look," she told me.

I tried to read her expression but it was completely neutral. She wasn't giving anything again. I bit my lip and picked up the test.

'Pregnant'.

I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't! After the BFN that morning I thought it was all over. To get a positive on a digi made my heart soar. I wanted to scream in excitement but didn't dare in case anyone overheard and wondered what was going on so we just hugged and I stared at the test over and over.

I actually left work early and practically floated home to tell my husband the news. I couldn't believe it. Somehow I knew this was a sticky one, and the little whirlwind of wild bed-hair and odd socks that greets me every day proved me right.

In just over a month she'll be two years old. My little baby is growing right up. But I will never forget that first faint line or the flickering of the egg timer as I waited to know for certain. Natasha was our planned surprise - so very much wanted but yet so unexpected. She hasn't stopped surprising us ever since!

Monday 12 July 2010

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

I am a terrible, terrible mother. I have started to lie to my children.

They are only 3 and almost 2 respectively but I am telling them porky pies already. I feel awful about it but I continue to do it.

What cause could there be for a mother to lie to two small children under the age of 4, you might wonder. Well, I'll tell you. Shopping trips keep picking up additional 'stops'. Kids develop their fascinations, obsessions and routines. It was fine when it started with Angelica pressing all the buttons at the crossings but now Natasha has to press them too. Then there was Iggle Piggle's boat; a ride for small children based on one of the characters from In The Night Garden which I made the mistake of allowing them to go on once and now they have to go on every time we leave the house. Then there's the lift in the local shopping centre that they have to ride in (and both press the button in). Oh, and then there's the peppers.

This is an Angelica thing. One night my husband nipped to the supermarket just before the girls' bedtime and took Angelica for a walk with him. They returned full of joy about the different coloured peppers they had seen... well, one of them was slightly more enthusiastic than the other... and ever since that day a trip to the supermarket has not been complete without a detour round the opposite side of the vegetable aisle to see the peppers.

"Red peppers..." Angelica's eyes gleam, "...yellow peppers... orange peppers... green peppers..."

"Very good," I tell her before she adds with a cheeky grin;

"...BLUE peppers!"

And this was fine... annoying but fine until it got to the point where she wanted to take home one of each of the aforementioned peppers and the fact that neither my DH or I like peppers dissuaded her from this quest. I would often reach the checkout to find a sneaky pepper residing in the basket, or one sat in the pushchair.

Eventually, last week, I'd had enough. I was exhausted, I had a headache and I couldn't face spending half an hour checking for enemy peppers secreted about the pushchair so I marched on straight past the vegetables and down the frozen chicken aisle.

"Peppers?!" Angelica cried.

"They've... gone on holiday," I told her.

Angelica understands about holidays. She knows when people go on holiday she can't see them for a little while. She didn't even question this statement, she just took it as a fact. When we got home she even told her daddy, "Peppers gone on holiday!"

I felt like such a terrible mother! I had lied to my daughter... about peppers taking a vacation!

But it didn't stop me repeating the trick yesterday when the heat was getting to me and I couldn't face trudging around the store or the town for very long. In fact, the peppers and Iggle Piggle's Boat went on holiday yesterday, and still she believed me.

I have a feeling many, many things will be going on holiday over the next few weeks.

Saturday 10 July 2010

DTTC

This might sound like a strange thing for someone who is 17 and a half weeks pregnant to say but recently something that has been on my mind a lot is TTC.

We have had our children fairly lose together and we started TTC more or less as soon as my fertility returned each time. I think a lot of people have shaken their head and tutted at this, but we have good reasons and it's our decision, not theirs. My endo has put me on borrowed time and with a history of recurrent miscarriage it takes us a while to get a sticky one.

I love our girls being so close in age. They're growing up together and they are extremely close. There are as many pros and cons to choosing to have your children close together as there are to waiting a few years and there are no right or wrong answers; it has to depend on the family, the situation and a decision between two people - not their extended family and friends.

I didn't realise I wanted a big family for many years. I grew up as an only child; my mother was also an only child. For some reason I thought that meant I should only have one child too. I was diagnosed with Endo when I was 20 and initially the specialist told me I would need to look into fertility treatment whan I wanted to have children. This is one of many reasons that I thank my lucky stars every day for the blessings in my life.

In 2002 I spent Christmas with my now-inlaws for the first time. My DH and I had been together for two and a half years and I loved spending time with his family. My husband is one of three brothers and seeing Christmas with a bigger family for the first time was a revelation to me. I adored it. It was the best Christmas of my life and a far cry from my childhood christmases, when I'd be given board games and have no one to play them with. I had no idea at the time how lonely I actually was. It's only retrospectively that I can see what I missed out on by being an only child.

When I had my first daughter I was so overwhelmed by my love for her, I couldn't imagine not adding to our family. I wanted her to have a playmate to share her life with. Seeing her with her sister fills my heart with joy daily. Oh, don't get me wrong, they fall out sometimes and they might annoy each other if they sit in the other's lunch or do something equally naughty (but hilarious) but they look out for each other. They hug and kiss, they play together and they get so excited when they see each other in the morning. We felt more and more pulled toward the idea of having a big family and decided to TTC again. Getting to the stage we are at was very long, difficult and heart-breaking journey.

So now I am wondering if I can go through it again in the future. The losses we had along the way caused us both so much pain. I know I am getting older and my Endo is progressing. If we decide to have another then it's a sooner-rather-than-later situation so I am glad we are thinking things over now but it's still a scary thing to consider.

My DH has told me he would like to NTNP. We said that this time too and it lasted for approximately one month before we started TTC properly. I don't think we'll know until the baby arrives whether our family will feel complete but I think we're both feeling 4 is the golden number.

I do wish we had the luxury of time and health, but at least we can get our thoughts together now so that when the time comes we can be as close to being on the same page as possible. There is so much to think about, but we have a fair bit of time to decide. Whatever happens, right now I am just so grateful for the little feet that poke me every so often and I can't wait to get my early Christmas present.

Friday 9 July 2010

Hear Me Roar

After an absence of several years, loaves of tiger bread have returned to a local shop this week. My husband delightedly bought some and I was thrilled when I got home from work yesterday to find the loaf ready and waiting. I'd missed lunch before I left work and was starving so I cut myself a couple of thick slices and grabbed some cheese and ham to enjoy an easy, late lunch.

My girls had already eaten earlier but they are always curious about new foods so I gave them a chunk each.

"That's tiger bread," I told them.

Both seemed to enjoy it, especially Angelica who came sniffing around for more. I gave her another piece before asking her,

"And what did you have for your lunch today?"

She thought for a moment, then with a big grin said,

"Lion rolls!"

You've got to give her credit for trying!

Not Tonight, I Have a Headache...

I've had an enforced break from blogging, and from the internet in general. I have been living in Migraine Land. Let me tell you, it's not the nicest place to take a vacation. It started when I was around 10 weeks pregnant, give or take. I started getting frequent headaches but thought that the worry of approaching 12 weeks and having several loss anniversaries clustered together was making them worse. When I reached 12 weeks and my scan went perfectly I thought the stress would lift, but my headaches became worse.

Hitting the second trimester brought almost daily migraines. I had headaches in the 2nd trimester with both my girls but this is the first time I've made it this far since developing migraines and I was completely unprepared for it. Computers have been triggering them or making them worse and some websites had become impossible to visit.

I have tackled the problem with something so simple I don't know why I didn't think of it before. I'm using a coloured overlay to change the brightness of the screen. I'd found sites with a dim, blue/grey tone were much easier to visit than sites with a white background and a stronger contrast of tones. The blue overlay I'm using tones down websites and other pages so I am able to use the internet without the screen triggering migraines, as long as I take a lot of breaks. I have also been prescribed some stronger pain relief, although I am reluctant to take it too often for obvious reasons.

An estimated 16-17% of the world's population will experience a migraine at some point in their life. If you suffer from migraines or headaches then why not check out this JM group for advice, suggestions and support:

http://www.justmommies.com/forums/groups/108-migraines-and-headaches.html

It's good to be back!