My sister Kristin had a baby yesterday. Declan Rhys Wurgler O'Brien was born in the morning and is absolutely stunning.
I was able to talk to Kristin shortly after Declan was born and I was completely caught off guard by how emotional I became. As I was talking to her I heard Declan's squeaky little cry and I lost it. I started crying so hard. I got my composure and finished the conversation, but after I hung up I just stood in the middle of my brightly lit kitchen sobbing for quite a long time. If my neighbours happened to look down into my kitchen windows, I'm sure they would have been quite curious about why I was just standing there crying.
I cried because I am so happy that he is here safe and healthy. And that my sister is safe and healthy. I cried because I realised how amazing it is that he is so new and will one day be 5 months like Violet and 3 years like Vivian. All of that potential and possibility is stored up in his tiny squeaky little self. I cried because I feel for Kristin and Austin. They are embarking on the most trying and emotional and difficult and amazing journey of their life. It is absolutely brutal sometimes and sometimes it's carefree, fun and beautiful. I also cried a lot because I am so incredibly disappointed to be so incredibly far away from people I love so incredibly much. It's heart-wrenching. Truly heart-wrenching.
I'm glad we're here. I know I'm learning and growing and evolving and improving, but man is it sad to miss out on important things happening to my family! I keep trying to Seize the Day here. I try to not dwell on what I'm missing out on but what I'm able to do. I'm usually quite good at that. Lately it's been challenging. And, not only because I'm always exhausted. It's because I truly, truly, truly wish I was home, holding my new nephew and smelling his gorgeous long, dark hair!
Emily's next. I hope I recover from this sob session by the time my niece arrives!
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
16 November 2013
12 November 2013
Sleeping
I live in London. But basically I am just a mom trying my best to raise healthy, well-adjusted kids on minimal sleep. It's a tough job. Especially when I'm completely exhausted... which is how I've been for the past 5 months. Honestly, it has been rough since Violet has been born. Posterior delivery, tongue tie, severe double mastitis, tongue tie snip, recurrent mastitis, international travel, recurrent tongue tie, second tongue tie snip, Mark traveling to Chicago, 5 months of way too little sleep.
I have to stop myself now to say how thankful I am to have two healthy girls. A tongue tie is NOTHING on the scheme of things. It doesn't necessarily feel that way when it feels like someone is stabbing you through the nipple with a hot knife every time you feed your baby though. Lack of sleep does have a way of making everything seem a lot worse and less manageable than it really is.
This week Mark is in Chicago again. Last time he was there I was waking Violet up every 3 hours to feed her so that her tongue tie wouldn't reattach. This time I am training her to sleep through the night again. It didn't start that way though. It started with me sobbing for hours because she wouldn't sleep. Calling my mom sobbing because I was at my wits end. Snapping at her because she suggested that rocking Violet to sleep every single time she woke up in the night maybe wasn't a good habit. Turns out she was right. Yesterday I began a sleep training program where I sit next to her bed and let her lay there and soothe herself. I can reassure her, pat her back, talk to her and occasionally pick her up if I think it will help, but ultimately I'm teaching her how to put herself back to sleep. I was really skeptical. I didn't want to abandon my sweet 5 month old baby when she needed me, so I didn't. I stayed right there until she fell asleep. And she did! After 30 minutes. She woke up briefly at 9:30 last night and then slept until... wait for it... 4 a.m. Unbelievable. I am so excited I can barely stand it. Now I'm just optimistic enough about the future to not be a wreck. I'm still tired, but I can handle it if I know that it doesn't have to be like this for the rest of my entire life!
I'm not good when I'm tired. I'm not sure that anyone is really good, but I'm terrible. I'm an impatient, frustrated and snappy mom. I'm weepy and melodramatic and pessimistic and constantly overwhelmed. But I don't have to be this way for long. Now I can be stable and functioning and patient.
Hooray for hope! Hooray for sleep!
PS. We're planning a trip to Ireland in the next few weeks. There will be some more fun travel-y types of posts at that point.
I have to stop myself now to say how thankful I am to have two healthy girls. A tongue tie is NOTHING on the scheme of things. It doesn't necessarily feel that way when it feels like someone is stabbing you through the nipple with a hot knife every time you feed your baby though. Lack of sleep does have a way of making everything seem a lot worse and less manageable than it really is.
This week Mark is in Chicago again. Last time he was there I was waking Violet up every 3 hours to feed her so that her tongue tie wouldn't reattach. This time I am training her to sleep through the night again. It didn't start that way though. It started with me sobbing for hours because she wouldn't sleep. Calling my mom sobbing because I was at my wits end. Snapping at her because she suggested that rocking Violet to sleep every single time she woke up in the night maybe wasn't a good habit. Turns out she was right. Yesterday I began a sleep training program where I sit next to her bed and let her lay there and soothe herself. I can reassure her, pat her back, talk to her and occasionally pick her up if I think it will help, but ultimately I'm teaching her how to put herself back to sleep. I was really skeptical. I didn't want to abandon my sweet 5 month old baby when she needed me, so I didn't. I stayed right there until she fell asleep. And she did! After 30 minutes. She woke up briefly at 9:30 last night and then slept until... wait for it... 4 a.m. Unbelievable. I am so excited I can barely stand it. Now I'm just optimistic enough about the future to not be a wreck. I'm still tired, but I can handle it if I know that it doesn't have to be like this for the rest of my entire life!
I'm not good when I'm tired. I'm not sure that anyone is really good, but I'm terrible. I'm an impatient, frustrated and snappy mom. I'm weepy and melodramatic and pessimistic and constantly overwhelmed. But I don't have to be this way for long. Now I can be stable and functioning and patient.
Hooray for hope! Hooray for sleep!
PS. We're planning a trip to Ireland in the next few weeks. There will be some more fun travel-y types of posts at that point.
16 October 2013
Now I'm 34
Last Tuesday I turned 34. I spent most of the day feeling sorry for myself because I had to make my own cupcakes and clean the house to get ready for the babysitter so that I could go out to dinner to celebrate my birthday. I was actually really mad for quite a while.
Then a neighbor and friend stopped by with a card to say happy birthday. I told her I was making my own cupcakes and she said that he remembered doing that with her kids. Her daughter decorated her cake and dumped the entire box of silver balls on her cake and it was such a mess. She laughed about the fond memory. Then I talked to my mom. I told her that I would probably be disappointed at dinner because it was my birthday and special occasions often end up being terrible because you expect to have an amazing night out of the house but you end up just fighting because your expectations aren't being met. She told me to just pretend it was any other night so that my expectations weren't too high. Yeah right, Mom.... like that would actually work.
But it did.
I picked up Vivian from nursery and we went to the market to buy decorations for my cupcakes. She picked out pink squeezy tube decorating frosting and blue and green mini M&M type things. She helped me crack the eggs for the cupcakes and stir in the chocolate for the frosting. She licked the beaters. She helped me decorate the cupcakes that ended up being too dense because we over-stirred them... above all, she had a GREAT time.
The thing is, I keep mourning the loss of the life that I used to have... still. Moms of young children don't usually get woken up with breakfast in bed and presents that have been wrapped with ribbons and surprise days at the spa. (Who am I kidding?... no one has birthdays like this...do they?) Moms of young children make their own cupcakes with their children, even though it is incredibly messy and a bit annoying, because baking is super fun for kids. They spend the evening getting the kids in bed so that a babysitter can come and sit on the couch while they go out to dinner.
And, do you know what? I had a FANTASTIC time at dinner with Mark. Why? I decided it was more important to get over myself than to prove a pointless point.
I have a wonderful life. I have two incredible girls who are healthy and happy and smiley and fun. I have an incredible husband who provides for us so well that I can stay home and enjoy those wonderful girls. I have an incredible husband who also comes home every night to help with baths and bed time. He reads a chapter in the Magic Tree House books to Vivian before bed every night and makes her squeal with laughter. He says good night prayers and then sings to her before kissing her goodnight. He places us so high on his list of priorities that he will leave work in a heartbeat to get home if we really need him.
Why would I ruin an awesome opportunity to be out having a great time at an amazing (Michelin Star Rated) restaurant with my favorite person in the world by complaining about how much it sucks that I have to make my own cupcakes?
Luckily I didn't... but I almost did.
Then a neighbor and friend stopped by with a card to say happy birthday. I told her I was making my own cupcakes and she said that he remembered doing that with her kids. Her daughter decorated her cake and dumped the entire box of silver balls on her cake and it was such a mess. She laughed about the fond memory. Then I talked to my mom. I told her that I would probably be disappointed at dinner because it was my birthday and special occasions often end up being terrible because you expect to have an amazing night out of the house but you end up just fighting because your expectations aren't being met. She told me to just pretend it was any other night so that my expectations weren't too high. Yeah right, Mom.... like that would actually work.
But it did.
I picked up Vivian from nursery and we went to the market to buy decorations for my cupcakes. She picked out pink squeezy tube decorating frosting and blue and green mini M&M type things. She helped me crack the eggs for the cupcakes and stir in the chocolate for the frosting. She licked the beaters. She helped me decorate the cupcakes that ended up being too dense because we over-stirred them... above all, she had a GREAT time.
The thing is, I keep mourning the loss of the life that I used to have... still. Moms of young children don't usually get woken up with breakfast in bed and presents that have been wrapped with ribbons and surprise days at the spa. (Who am I kidding?... no one has birthdays like this...do they?) Moms of young children make their own cupcakes with their children, even though it is incredibly messy and a bit annoying, because baking is super fun for kids. They spend the evening getting the kids in bed so that a babysitter can come and sit on the couch while they go out to dinner.
And, do you know what? I had a FANTASTIC time at dinner with Mark. Why? I decided it was more important to get over myself than to prove a pointless point.
I have a wonderful life. I have two incredible girls who are healthy and happy and smiley and fun. I have an incredible husband who provides for us so well that I can stay home and enjoy those wonderful girls. I have an incredible husband who also comes home every night to help with baths and bed time. He reads a chapter in the Magic Tree House books to Vivian before bed every night and makes her squeal with laughter. He says good night prayers and then sings to her before kissing her goodnight. He places us so high on his list of priorities that he will leave work in a heartbeat to get home if we really need him.
Why would I ruin an awesome opportunity to be out having a great time at an amazing (Michelin Star Rated) restaurant with my favorite person in the world by complaining about how much it sucks that I have to make my own cupcakes?
Luckily I didn't... but I almost did.
05 October 2013
Sharing a Room
I am bursting with pride right now, and I think it's a bit of an overreaction.
Yesterday we bought a single bed (really nice bed, really good deal) for Vivian so that we can turn the cot bed (toddler bed) back into a cot (crib) for Violet. We have always intended for them to share a room but I've just been a bit nervous about it. With Vivian I was always so freaked out about her sleep that I wouldn't even enter the room during her nap for fear of waking her up. I never did anything that interfered with her nap schedule and would spend hours online reading about what I should do when something would go awry. She was a generally good sleeper too. I'm pretty sure that my neuroses is the only thing that kept her from sleeping perfectly at all times.
Violet is not so lucky (or is she?). Her schedule has to fit around our life because I don't have the luxury of not going to pick up Viv from nursery if Violet is asleep. She spends a large portion of her life in my Ergo Baby Carrier being toted from home to wherever it is we need to go. And, you know what? She is just as good a sleeper, or maybe even better, than Vivian was... go figure.
So, I was a bit apprehensive about putting them in the same room. To be honest, I wasn't even going to attempt it for a couple of months. But... we got this new bed yesterday and needed to leave the crib in there and figured we might as well try it all at once. The pack n' play is still set up in our room so that we can bring her back in if we need to, but I am optimistic. Last night Violet slept from 7 pm to 5 am without waking up. We, of course, didn't get to sleep through. Vivian wet the bed at 1 so we were up changing sheets, bathing her and begging her to cry a little bit more quietly so that Violet didn't wake up. She didn't cry more quietly and Violet still didn't wake up. Miracle!
Now we just need to get Violet to sleep through the night and Vivian to stay dry during the night. If and when that happens I am seriously going to feel like a million bucks. There just might be a light at the end of this crazy tunnel.
Yesterday we bought a single bed (really nice bed, really good deal) for Vivian so that we can turn the cot bed (toddler bed) back into a cot (crib) for Violet. We have always intended for them to share a room but I've just been a bit nervous about it. With Vivian I was always so freaked out about her sleep that I wouldn't even enter the room during her nap for fear of waking her up. I never did anything that interfered with her nap schedule and would spend hours online reading about what I should do when something would go awry. She was a generally good sleeper too. I'm pretty sure that my neuroses is the only thing that kept her from sleeping perfectly at all times.
Violet is not so lucky (or is she?). Her schedule has to fit around our life because I don't have the luxury of not going to pick up Viv from nursery if Violet is asleep. She spends a large portion of her life in my Ergo Baby Carrier being toted from home to wherever it is we need to go. And, you know what? She is just as good a sleeper, or maybe even better, than Vivian was... go figure.
So, I was a bit apprehensive about putting them in the same room. To be honest, I wasn't even going to attempt it for a couple of months. But... we got this new bed yesterday and needed to leave the crib in there and figured we might as well try it all at once. The pack n' play is still set up in our room so that we can bring her back in if we need to, but I am optimistic. Last night Violet slept from 7 pm to 5 am without waking up. We, of course, didn't get to sleep through. Vivian wet the bed at 1 so we were up changing sheets, bathing her and begging her to cry a little bit more quietly so that Violet didn't wake up. She didn't cry more quietly and Violet still didn't wake up. Miracle!
Now we just need to get Violet to sleep through the night and Vivian to stay dry during the night. If and when that happens I am seriously going to feel like a million bucks. There just might be a light at the end of this crazy tunnel.
02 October 2013
Sleep Makes All the Difference
Last week I almost lost it. Mark stayed home Friday and let me get some sleep and a tiny bit of down time. Throughout the weekend I slowly but surely started feeling better and more able to deal with life. I was proactive about talking with other mums and I don't feel so crazy anymore. Everyone melts down, usually from sheer exhaustion. Everything just seems so much less hopeful when you haven't slept.
Now I am sitting here rocking my sleeping baby while my lovely little preschooler sleeps peacefully in the other room and all seems right with the world. We had a rough evening on our own because Mark had a work function, but I was able to approach it from a stable place because I am only really tired instead of exhausted, or "knackered."
It is funny because going through this has made me really appreciate the community that I have here. The more you work through hard times in your life with people, the more you bond with them. On one hand it is really nice to bond and feel more supported. On the other hand, it makes me nervous because I know it will be harder to leave after going through this here with these friends. I know this is short-sighted, but that is the kind of thing that makes me wish we never would have come. I don't like missing people. I don't like being away from my family in California. I don't like being away from my friends from California or Chicago. I don't like that I can't just drive down to see Emily and ET on a weekend if I want to. ... And now I will have more friends to miss. I guess the only constant is change. Even if we had stayed put it wouldn't have all been perfect. Friends would have moved away from us or something.
Oh well, time to quit analyzing and just let myself be happy when I can and allow myself to admit that being a mom really does suck sometimes... But then it gets good again. :)
26 September 2013
Constant...Crying...
I admire those mothers who can laugh about their daily life in the midst of their daily life being horrible. I'm not currently one of those mothers. When Vivian cries for 4 hours straight about nothing, it wears on me... even after an idyllic morning with her at nursery and time with giggling or sleeping Violet.
When I am sitting in the rocking chair trying to nurse my screaming baby on my sore nipple and she keeps biting down and pulling off it doesn't make me laugh. When this is all happening while Vivian is downstairs continuing to cry and throw a fit, I don't think it's funny.
I'm trying to enjoy the time while they're young and sometimes I do. But a lot of the time I just want to stick my head in the oven and scream. Instead I silent scream at the time and then cry later.
Cool blog, Darcy. This is really entertaining...
When I am sitting in the rocking chair trying to nurse my screaming baby on my sore nipple and she keeps biting down and pulling off it doesn't make me laugh. When this is all happening while Vivian is downstairs continuing to cry and throw a fit, I don't think it's funny.
I'm trying to enjoy the time while they're young and sometimes I do. But a lot of the time I just want to stick my head in the oven and scream. Instead I silent scream at the time and then cry later.
Cool blog, Darcy. This is really entertaining...
17 September 2013
Second Day of Real Life
So, you know what I said last time about life here being easier because we don't have a car? Yeah, go ahead and forget that completely.
Today was our second day of 'real life' after returning from our trip back to America. We woke up at a normal time and got ready for the day as if she was going to nursery. I called it our practice run. We would have been late, but now I know how much time things will actually take.
The morning was nice. We walked by her nursery, went to the post office and then stopped off at Starbucks because I had to feed Violet and it's the only place around that has enough seating that I might actually find a place to sit. I almost never go to Starbucks on principal. Why go to Starbucks when I live in London and could go anywhere else? Well, while I was there (maybe 30 minutes total) I ran into 5 different people that I know. Some of them knew each other, but not all of them. It was crazy. Maybe if I'm feeling lonely and like I don't have friends, I'll just go to Starbucks. :)
Later that day...
I was totally absorbed in organizing the new clothes that I bought for Vivian in my two-day shopping spree and didn't realize that the time was flying by and it was now 30 minutes until ballet started. It was her first day in 'primary' class which means that I wasn't in the room with her. I was worried that it might be upsetting so I wanted to get there early. Ballet is a full mile away from our house and even if I walk by myself at top speed it would still take me 10-12 minutes (considering all of the street crossings etc). We got out of the house at 3:20, made it there by 3:38 and rushed into the changing room only to realize that I had completely forgotten her ballet kit (uniform). I had to ask the teacher to get one for Vivian to borrow which made class start late.
Vivian did great. She didn't cry. Once she saw me looking at her through the window and said, "Hold me, Mama," but that was it. She just pranced around following directions like a champ, from what I saw. Half the time I was sitting on the sofa trying to get Violet to nurse. (She has gotten very picky and will now only really eat while laying down on the bed with me. It's a problem... I think I need to call a specialist.) At one point I tried to talk to someone while she was latched on only to discover a second later that she had pulled off and was completely drenched by the firehose of milk streaming toward her.
After ballet we got all changed and decided that walking a tiny bit farther down the high road toward Tooting was better to do in the late afternoon rain than making a separate trip another time. I got it in my head this morning that I want to knit pink, red, black and white matching scarves for the girls. I haven't knit in at least 2 years and honestly don't know if I will remember how to knit and purl. But, I needed yarn (they call it wool here. If it's cotton, they call it cotton wool. That's what they also call baby wipes...weird) and I needed it at 5 p.m. in the rain, so we walked to the craft store.
As we were leaving the craft store it sunk in that this wasn't a good idea. By the time we got home (and Vivi had walked through all of the puddles in her regular shoes) we were soaked and it was almost 5:30. I rushed to get dinner ready and managed to spill Balsamic vinaigrette on my new white shirt. I took that off to clean it and then spilled pasta sauce on my white tank top and new jeans. Seriously? Vivian managed to drop a bowl of dressing which bounced on the footrest of her chair and splashed all over the dining room. I'll probably be cleaning up drips of it for weeks!
*****
I got distracted writing that post and don't know what I was going to conclude with. It's now Thursday and I had an epiphany tonight. These days life is nonstop. Vivian and Violet keep me on my toes, but routine should help free up some time to actually make a nice dinner or get more than one room of the house clean at a time (right???? Someone please tell me I'm right!). In the meantime, I'm really going to try to stop dwelling on how tired I am and how much work this is, and try to enjoy the little bugs. Today I had a tea party with Vivian and she was so excited! She made me a pretend cake and cut it into pieces with a spoon. She served me pretend cherry tea (with real toy cherries in the cup) and dumped an entire bowl of pretend sugar in my tea. When I woke her up from her nap this afternoon (if I don't wake her up she stays up until 10 or later at night) she just wanted to cuddle. Tonight when I put Violet down, I let her fall asleep in my arms and kissed her fluffy little cheeks a few (ok, about a hundred) times before I laid her down. I've decided that maybe the things that are stressing me out and making me SO incredibly grumpy (you can ask Mark... he will probably be nice about it, but I've been GRUMP-Y the last couple of days) maybe aren't that important.
So... if you come to my house you will see laundry piled up on the kitchen table and counter and stove top, clothes hanging from the drying rack, Violet's activity mat in the middle of the kitchen floor, mail piled up, dirt on the carpet, toys still out in the living room and playroom and water still in the bathtub from Violet's bath 3 hours ago. But, I'm going to bed. If I don't get sleep I will continue being a grump, which makes me a verifiably bad mother.
Today was our second day of 'real life' after returning from our trip back to America. We woke up at a normal time and got ready for the day as if she was going to nursery. I called it our practice run. We would have been late, but now I know how much time things will actually take.
The morning was nice. We walked by her nursery, went to the post office and then stopped off at Starbucks because I had to feed Violet and it's the only place around that has enough seating that I might actually find a place to sit. I almost never go to Starbucks on principal. Why go to Starbucks when I live in London and could go anywhere else? Well, while I was there (maybe 30 minutes total) I ran into 5 different people that I know. Some of them knew each other, but not all of them. It was crazy. Maybe if I'm feeling lonely and like I don't have friends, I'll just go to Starbucks. :)
Later that day...
I was totally absorbed in organizing the new clothes that I bought for Vivian in my two-day shopping spree and didn't realize that the time was flying by and it was now 30 minutes until ballet started. It was her first day in 'primary' class which means that I wasn't in the room with her. I was worried that it might be upsetting so I wanted to get there early. Ballet is a full mile away from our house and even if I walk by myself at top speed it would still take me 10-12 minutes (considering all of the street crossings etc). We got out of the house at 3:20, made it there by 3:38 and rushed into the changing room only to realize that I had completely forgotten her ballet kit (uniform). I had to ask the teacher to get one for Vivian to borrow which made class start late.
Vivian did great. She didn't cry. Once she saw me looking at her through the window and said, "Hold me, Mama," but that was it. She just pranced around following directions like a champ, from what I saw. Half the time I was sitting on the sofa trying to get Violet to nurse. (She has gotten very picky and will now only really eat while laying down on the bed with me. It's a problem... I think I need to call a specialist.) At one point I tried to talk to someone while she was latched on only to discover a second later that she had pulled off and was completely drenched by the firehose of milk streaming toward her.
After ballet we got all changed and decided that walking a tiny bit farther down the high road toward Tooting was better to do in the late afternoon rain than making a separate trip another time. I got it in my head this morning that I want to knit pink, red, black and white matching scarves for the girls. I haven't knit in at least 2 years and honestly don't know if I will remember how to knit and purl. But, I needed yarn (they call it wool here. If it's cotton, they call it cotton wool. That's what they also call baby wipes...weird) and I needed it at 5 p.m. in the rain, so we walked to the craft store.
As we were leaving the craft store it sunk in that this wasn't a good idea. By the time we got home (and Vivi had walked through all of the puddles in her regular shoes) we were soaked and it was almost 5:30. I rushed to get dinner ready and managed to spill Balsamic vinaigrette on my new white shirt. I took that off to clean it and then spilled pasta sauce on my white tank top and new jeans. Seriously? Vivian managed to drop a bowl of dressing which bounced on the footrest of her chair and splashed all over the dining room. I'll probably be cleaning up drips of it for weeks!
*****
I got distracted writing that post and don't know what I was going to conclude with. It's now Thursday and I had an epiphany tonight. These days life is nonstop. Vivian and Violet keep me on my toes, but routine should help free up some time to actually make a nice dinner or get more than one room of the house clean at a time (right???? Someone please tell me I'm right!). In the meantime, I'm really going to try to stop dwelling on how tired I am and how much work this is, and try to enjoy the little bugs. Today I had a tea party with Vivian and she was so excited! She made me a pretend cake and cut it into pieces with a spoon. She served me pretend cherry tea (with real toy cherries in the cup) and dumped an entire bowl of pretend sugar in my tea. When I woke her up from her nap this afternoon (if I don't wake her up she stays up until 10 or later at night) she just wanted to cuddle. Tonight when I put Violet down, I let her fall asleep in my arms and kissed her fluffy little cheeks a few (ok, about a hundred) times before I laid her down. I've decided that maybe the things that are stressing me out and making me SO incredibly grumpy (you can ask Mark... he will probably be nice about it, but I've been GRUMP-Y the last couple of days) maybe aren't that important.
So... if you come to my house you will see laundry piled up on the kitchen table and counter and stove top, clothes hanging from the drying rack, Violet's activity mat in the middle of the kitchen floor, mail piled up, dirt on the carpet, toys still out in the living room and playroom and water still in the bathtub from Violet's bath 3 hours ago. But, I'm going to bed. If I don't get sleep I will continue being a grump, which makes me a verifiably bad mother.
13 August 2013
Violet's Birth
Violet Elizabeth Wurgler Adams was born on the 7th of June at 4:29 a.m. She was 8 days late. Before her birth I was getting really antsy about having the baby and wanted to get on with things. My mom gave me some great advice. She said that my life would be a lot more complicated once the baby came, so I should take advantage of the time while I had it and make a list of things that would be nice to get done if I could. I did! I got my hair cut, made some banana bread and generally relaxed. I felt much better once I just chilled out.
I will tell the nitty gritty NHS details in another post because otherwise this one would get way too long and I don't have chunks of time long enough to write posts like that anymore.
So, when I went into labour on Wednesday night around 11:30 p.m. I didn't wake up Mark because I wanted him to at least be well rested. I barely slept because I thought that things might happen really quickly this time around... they did not. My contractions were fairly regular all night and Thursday morning until Vivian woke up. That day I had Mark stay home thinking we would be having the baby any time. We went out to breakfast as a family of three and then sent Vivian to our neighbour and friend down the street. Nothing happened.
We picked Vivian up from our friend's house because she couldn't stay overnight there and put her to bed at home. As soon as she was in bed I started having more intense contractions and they were fairly regular. Our friend Rosie came over around 9 and we went to the hospital around 9:30. (Refer to the post about Violet's Birth and the NHS for the rest of this story... if you want to.) Violet was born at 4:29 a.m. and we were home by 4:30 p.m. to pick up Vivian. Rosie was amazing.
Rosie is an English woman who I met through the playgroup that I help with at church. When I told her I was pregnant in September I mentioned that I was nervous because I didn't know what to do with Vivian. She was so excited. She really wanted to be the one to come over and watch Vivian when I went into labour. She said that she didn't have anyone to watch her oldest daughter when her youngest was born and she wanted to be able to do that for someone. I have since learned that she is just an extremely helpful, loving and generous person. She is always doing nice things for people.
When we arrived home, Rosie was sitting on the front porch with Vivian and her two girls, Beatrice and Isabel. Vivian was super happy and had been having a blast. What a blessing! It was so wonderful to not need to worry about Viv while we were at the hospital.
Right after we introduced Vivian to the baby (she wasn't named until she was 8 days old) we presented her with the gift that the baby had bought for Vivian. It was a brand new pink scooter. It was wrapped up in sparkly silver paper that Viv had a great time ripping open. She was SOOO excited! She started scooting around the house (of course we had to set up some rules right away. No scooting in the house.) We talked her into presenting her gifts to the baby before she went out scooting with her dad. Mark took her out scooting for quite a while and I sat on the couch gazing at my sweet newborn baby girl. I was so happy.
I will tell the nitty gritty NHS details in another post because otherwise this one would get way too long and I don't have chunks of time long enough to write posts like that anymore.
So, when I went into labour on Wednesday night around 11:30 p.m. I didn't wake up Mark because I wanted him to at least be well rested. I barely slept because I thought that things might happen really quickly this time around... they did not. My contractions were fairly regular all night and Thursday morning until Vivian woke up. That day I had Mark stay home thinking we would be having the baby any time. We went out to breakfast as a family of three and then sent Vivian to our neighbour and friend down the street. Nothing happened.
We picked Vivian up from our friend's house because she couldn't stay overnight there and put her to bed at home. As soon as she was in bed I started having more intense contractions and they were fairly regular. Our friend Rosie came over around 9 and we went to the hospital around 9:30. (Refer to the post about Violet's Birth and the NHS for the rest of this story... if you want to.) Violet was born at 4:29 a.m. and we were home by 4:30 p.m. to pick up Vivian. Rosie was amazing.
Rosie is an English woman who I met through the playgroup that I help with at church. When I told her I was pregnant in September I mentioned that I was nervous because I didn't know what to do with Vivian. She was so excited. She really wanted to be the one to come over and watch Vivian when I went into labour. She said that she didn't have anyone to watch her oldest daughter when her youngest was born and she wanted to be able to do that for someone. I have since learned that she is just an extremely helpful, loving and generous person. She is always doing nice things for people.
When we arrived home, Rosie was sitting on the front porch with Vivian and her two girls, Beatrice and Isabel. Vivian was super happy and had been having a blast. What a blessing! It was so wonderful to not need to worry about Viv while we were at the hospital.
Right after we introduced Vivian to the baby (she wasn't named until she was 8 days old) we presented her with the gift that the baby had bought for Vivian. It was a brand new pink scooter. It was wrapped up in sparkly silver paper that Viv had a great time ripping open. She was SOOO excited! She started scooting around the house (of course we had to set up some rules right away. No scooting in the house.) We talked her into presenting her gifts to the baby before she went out scooting with her dad. Mark took her out scooting for quite a while and I sat on the couch gazing at my sweet newborn baby girl. I was so happy.
20 May 2013
Pregnancy and the NHS - Part 2
Since I wrote the previous post on Pregnancy and the NHS I've had some interesting experiences that weren't quite so positive.
First off, I had to go to the hospital a few weeks ago because I was having heart palpitations. I was about 35 weeks at the time. In the morning I went to see my GP because my heart had been racing and skipping beats since the night before. When I saw her she had me do an ECG (EKG) and also checked the baby's heartbeat. The heartbeat was fine, but she told me that the baby was definitely breech. It's hard to stay calm when your heart is racing to start with, but finding out that I had a breech baby was even worse. I went out of the room and started crying (which of course made Vivian start crying). After my ECG she sent the results to the hospital and the cardio specialists there told me to come in.
My whole experience in the hospital was quite good. They took me very seriously and performed many tests to ensure that I was okay before sending me home. Apparently it's "normal" for your heart to skip beats sometimes. Nothing else was wrong besides an elevated pulse, but it didn't signify anything scary.
So, after getting discharged from the hospital I went home and called the midwife about this breech baby situation. And this is where things got frustrating. I said that the GP told me that my baby was breech and they said that I couldn't do anything about it until my 36 week appointment (which was actually at 36 weeks + 5 days). I begged them to just come in so that they could check and see what they thought. They said no. They wouldn't do anything about it until 37 weeks anyways because the baby could just flip back over. I did some research and learned that it's best to get the baby the right direction around 30 weeks, so I was freaking out. I ended up going in for acupuncture just in case because they say that acupuncture is very effective in turning the baby if it's breech, but won't turn it the wrong way if it's not.
After the acupuncture I didn't feel the baby turn at all and continued to be concerned. When my 36 week appointment finally arrived the midwife felt around and said she couldn't tell which direction the baby was facing and scheduled me for a scan two days later. While at my appointment she also told me that my sugar was high and referred me to a diabetic midwife. I didn't quite know what that meant, so I called back later to inquire and apparently that means that they send a letter to the hospital and a diabetic specialist midwife sends a letter through the post to you. I'm 37 weeks pregnant! Why are we sending things through the post about issues that need to be resolved as quickly as possible?
She also informed me that my iron was low based on blood tests taken at 26 weeks... SERIOUSLY?!?! Why wait 10 whole weeks to tell me that? I could have been working on this for 10 weeks! So frustrating. (Apparently it wasn't low enough to recommend supplements, but borderline which is why they didn't call... but still. COME ON.)
So, at 37 weeks I went to the hospital for my scan. The baby's head was down and everything looked normal. Apparently she appeared to weigh 8 pounds already, which is quite large, but those tests are often on the high side, so I'm not freaking out about it. While I was there I went to the Day Assessment Unit (which is where people go when they're having problems that the midwives can't help with in their regular neighbourhood offices) and politely demanded that they check me again for sugar and give me a strep b test. They reluctantly did both. (I had a friend tell me that with the NHS you have to be the squeaky wheel, so I was.)
After that I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I was excited about giving birth and the fear associated with what to do about the breech baby was gone. I wasn't too mad at the NHS anymore.
Now I'm 38 weeks + 4 days and I must say that I'm feeling pretty ready to go. There is absolutely no sign that anything is really happening, but life being this pregnant and still carrying on normal activities with Vivian is quite challenging. I'm doing it, but it's exhausting. On Mondays we walk a mile to ballet and a mile home (if we go straight there and back, which today we did not. We stopped at the grocery store on the way home.). Tuesdays I have a babysitter come in the morning so that I can run some errands and get some stuff done before the baby shows up. Wednesdays we do a playgroup at the church. Thursdays we have the morning off so we usually do things like cleaning and playing at home. Friday we have Music class. The afternoons are usually not scheduled but we often do playdates with other families. That might not sound like much, but it feels like a lot. Especially because in music class we stand up/sit down about 85 times during the course of 40 minutes. It's brutal. I'm looking forward to that particular activity not being such a challenge.
So... 10 days to go until the official due date, but we'll see what happens. I'll keep you posted!
First off, I had to go to the hospital a few weeks ago because I was having heart palpitations. I was about 35 weeks at the time. In the morning I went to see my GP because my heart had been racing and skipping beats since the night before. When I saw her she had me do an ECG (EKG) and also checked the baby's heartbeat. The heartbeat was fine, but she told me that the baby was definitely breech. It's hard to stay calm when your heart is racing to start with, but finding out that I had a breech baby was even worse. I went out of the room and started crying (which of course made Vivian start crying). After my ECG she sent the results to the hospital and the cardio specialists there told me to come in.
My whole experience in the hospital was quite good. They took me very seriously and performed many tests to ensure that I was okay before sending me home. Apparently it's "normal" for your heart to skip beats sometimes. Nothing else was wrong besides an elevated pulse, but it didn't signify anything scary.
So, after getting discharged from the hospital I went home and called the midwife about this breech baby situation. And this is where things got frustrating. I said that the GP told me that my baby was breech and they said that I couldn't do anything about it until my 36 week appointment (which was actually at 36 weeks + 5 days). I begged them to just come in so that they could check and see what they thought. They said no. They wouldn't do anything about it until 37 weeks anyways because the baby could just flip back over. I did some research and learned that it's best to get the baby the right direction around 30 weeks, so I was freaking out. I ended up going in for acupuncture just in case because they say that acupuncture is very effective in turning the baby if it's breech, but won't turn it the wrong way if it's not.
After the acupuncture I didn't feel the baby turn at all and continued to be concerned. When my 36 week appointment finally arrived the midwife felt around and said she couldn't tell which direction the baby was facing and scheduled me for a scan two days later. While at my appointment she also told me that my sugar was high and referred me to a diabetic midwife. I didn't quite know what that meant, so I called back later to inquire and apparently that means that they send a letter to the hospital and a diabetic specialist midwife sends a letter through the post to you. I'm 37 weeks pregnant! Why are we sending things through the post about issues that need to be resolved as quickly as possible?
She also informed me that my iron was low based on blood tests taken at 26 weeks... SERIOUSLY?!?! Why wait 10 whole weeks to tell me that? I could have been working on this for 10 weeks! So frustrating. (Apparently it wasn't low enough to recommend supplements, but borderline which is why they didn't call... but still. COME ON.)
So, at 37 weeks I went to the hospital for my scan. The baby's head was down and everything looked normal. Apparently she appeared to weigh 8 pounds already, which is quite large, but those tests are often on the high side, so I'm not freaking out about it. While I was there I went to the Day Assessment Unit (which is where people go when they're having problems that the midwives can't help with in their regular neighbourhood offices) and politely demanded that they check me again for sugar and give me a strep b test. They reluctantly did both. (I had a friend tell me that with the NHS you have to be the squeaky wheel, so I was.)
After that I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I was excited about giving birth and the fear associated with what to do about the breech baby was gone. I wasn't too mad at the NHS anymore.
Now I'm 38 weeks + 4 days and I must say that I'm feeling pretty ready to go. There is absolutely no sign that anything is really happening, but life being this pregnant and still carrying on normal activities with Vivian is quite challenging. I'm doing it, but it's exhausting. On Mondays we walk a mile to ballet and a mile home (if we go straight there and back, which today we did not. We stopped at the grocery store on the way home.). Tuesdays I have a babysitter come in the morning so that I can run some errands and get some stuff done before the baby shows up. Wednesdays we do a playgroup at the church. Thursdays we have the morning off so we usually do things like cleaning and playing at home. Friday we have Music class. The afternoons are usually not scheduled but we often do playdates with other families. That might not sound like much, but it feels like a lot. Especially because in music class we stand up/sit down about 85 times during the course of 40 minutes. It's brutal. I'm looking forward to that particular activity not being such a challenge.
So... 10 days to go until the official due date, but we'll see what happens. I'll keep you posted!
21 April 2013
Pregnancy and the NHS
I have been meaning to write this post for months now, and I'm finally doing it. Hooray!
So, for those of you who haven't had a baby in the States recently, I'll try to detail my experience here as well as my experience there. Granted, my experience there wasn't 100% normal since I used a midwife and delivered in an Alternative Birthing Center within a hospital. However, the pre-natal care is pretty standard, so I'll focus mostly on that (since I haven't had my baby here yet anyways).
Upon finding out that you're pregnant in the US you immediately book an appointment with a OB/GYN or midwife and take a pregnancy test to confirm. After that, you choose who you want to be your doctor or midwife and begin regular appointments. I believe it's once a month for the first 6 months and then every other week until the last 4-6 weeks and then every week until delivery. There are also ultrasounds at 8 weeks and 20 weeks unless you are having issues and then you get some more often. You usually see the same dr/midwife or drs/midwives within the same private practice knowing that one of these people will be delivering your baby (or should I say helping you deliver your baby!).
Here it's a bit different. Upon finding out that I was pregnant I went to my GP (General Practitioner) at the "surgery" that we are a part of. Surgery is what they call a practice or medical group. Balham Park Surgery is where we go. So, I called and scheduled an appointment and was seen by a GP. She gave me some paperwork that congratulated me, told me to take vitamins, told me what not to eat, told me not to drink "too much alcohol" and informed me of my choices for delivery. Here you have 4 choices for your delivery: NHS Home Birth (where a midwife comes to your house when you're in labour), NHS Midwife Led Hospital birth (all straightforward labours and births are midwife led), NHS Elective Cesarean (which are never mentioned and until recently believed to be not allowed. There is a very stringent process that you must go through in order to have an elective Cesarean through the NHS.), and "Going Private" (this means that you elect to use your private insurance which often covers very little of the birth. People choose to go private because they get private rooms for aftercare and generally more catered treatment since the hospital would be making money off of them.) Some people go through the NHS but ask if there are any private rooms available and then pay out of pocket for a private room once they're at the hospital.
I knew I wanted to have a Midwife Led Hospital birth so now I needed to choose the hospital. People often go with the hospital near their house or one that they have had recommended to them by friends. Since I didn't know all that many people when I found out I was pregnant I went online to do my research. St. George's is the hospital near my house, but I had also heard good things about St. Thomas's and I had been there once while we lived in Westminster. St. Thomas's has a very nice labour room where you can look out the windows onto the River Thames, Big Ben and Parliament, but I've been in labour before and I know what a waste that is. A fantastic view like that should be saved for people recovering, not those in labour. Labour is a time to turn inward, focus and shut out distractions... I had my blinds closed during my entire labour with Vivian.
The hospitals no longer allow tours because of the risk of spreading illness to the mothers and babies, but you can go to their website and get a virtual tour. St. George's has a natural birthing suite with pools for water birth and it's close to our house, so I chose to deliver there.
At my meeting with my GP at 5 weeks she told me to choose a hospital and then schedule my booking appointment at 8 weeks. At that appointment they take your blood and urine to check for abnormalities and ask you what type of birth you'd like. I told them I would like the Carmen Suite (which is the natural birthing suite) and they noted that making sure I knew that I could do that if it's available. (There are 5000 babies born per year in this hospital, so people don't always get what they want during labour and delivery.) I expected to get to hear the heartbeat at this appointment but the midwife said no. Apparently she would get in trouble if she tried to listen to the heartbeat so early.
At 12 weeks you have your first "scan" (their word for ultrasound). The 12 week scan checks for likelihood of Down's Syndrome and checks to see the baby's size and how many are in there. After the 12 week scan you wait to get the results of the Down's test in the mail. It arrives and gives you a % chance that your baby has Down's syndrome. Ours was extremely low.
At 16 weeks we went in for our first real midwife appointment. The midwife just asked us questions, checked my urine and let me listen to the heartbeat. It was all very straightforward and I didn't have any questions, so it was quite quick. Mark and Vivian came to that appointment with me. After realizing how quick it was, I told Mark he doesn't need to take time off work for that again. It's 30 minutes of waiting in the waiting room and 10 minutes of talking with the midwife.
After the 16 week appointment there are no appointments until your 20 week "anomaly scan." At 20 weeks they do an intensive scan where they check for any abnormalities in the baby's size or various organs. The man who did our scan was extremely thorough. He showed us every organ and commented on the fact that it was healthy and normal. We got to see the heart and brain in detail and we got to know the sex of the baby if we wanted to... we did... It's a girl!
No appointments after the 20 week scan until 28 weeks. At which time they just ask you questions, check your urine, measure your belly and listen to the heartbeat. I had a few questions this time, but it still took about 10 minutes.
No more appointments with the midwife until 36 weeks, but at 34 you're supposed to go see your GP again. I just did this on Wednesday and it was very straightforward. I'm not sure why you do it, but it went just fine.
I have my 36 week appointment in two weeks and we'll see what happens there. I'm sure it's more of the same. They begin asking you questions regarding swelling and check your urine for sign of protein which indicates pre-eclampsia. Pre-eclampsia is dealt with seriously here as it is in the states. If you show signs of it in the states, they induce you. I'm not 100% sure about here, but I believe it's the same.
There are certain routine tests that are done in the states that are not done here without some factors indicating high risk. For example, gestational diabetes are only tested here if you show serious signs. When I asked about that the midwife said I definitely did not show signs. They also don't test for Strep B which I have heard can be a problem for the women who do have it. I'm not 100% clear on what Strep B is, but I know that the mother can carry it and then pass it onto their baby during birth resulting in quite a lot of complications. If you are known to have Strep B you have to be on antibiotics for 24 hours prior to delivery in order to prevent your baby from getting it. I'm not sure how they handle that here. I guess I should ask. I didn't have it with Vivian, but I think you can somehow contract it during pregnancy.
The other thing they don't do here is internal checks. During my pregnancy with Vivian they did routine internal checks to make sure that everything looked normal. When I asked about that here the midwife said that multiple studies have shown that it doesn't do any good, so why not just leave well enough alone. Sounds good to me!
So, there you have it. I now have 5 and a half weeks to go. I've not seen the labour and delivery ward or the Carmen Suite. I have been to the hospital three times, so I know generally where to go, but no more than that. I have a friend who used to work there and has friends there. She told me this morning that she might be able to get me in to see what I'm working with. Mark and I are doing a Natal Hypnotherapy workshop in two weeks. It was recommended by a woman that has given me a few massages. She said that I would benefit by it because of the fear that might be associated with labour and delivery after breaking my tailbone last time. I agree. I don't want to go into this feeling afraid. That wouldn't do anyone any good. In Natal Hypnotherapy they recommend touring the hospital before hand so you know exactly what you're dealing with. Uncertainty brings fear and that causes all of your muscles to tighten and your adrenaline levels to rise, which is the opposite of what you're trying to do. If I can get in to tour the hospital I will!
When I first found out I was pregnant I was really worried about what I'd do with Vivian when I went into labour. A friend at church and playgroup soon after offered to watch her for me. A few weeks ago another friend from church and playgroup offered to be a backup. It's nice to have friends! I will still be concerned that she's doing okay, but it's so nice that Mark can come with me to the hospital!
I'm glad I finally got this all down. Sorry for the novel, but I know that several people were very curious. I will keep updating the blog with information regarding the NHS as it happens. Hopefully there won't be too much prior to the actual delivery! Here's to a quick delivery this time!!!
So, for those of you who haven't had a baby in the States recently, I'll try to detail my experience here as well as my experience there. Granted, my experience there wasn't 100% normal since I used a midwife and delivered in an Alternative Birthing Center within a hospital. However, the pre-natal care is pretty standard, so I'll focus mostly on that (since I haven't had my baby here yet anyways).
Upon finding out that you're pregnant in the US you immediately book an appointment with a OB/GYN or midwife and take a pregnancy test to confirm. After that, you choose who you want to be your doctor or midwife and begin regular appointments. I believe it's once a month for the first 6 months and then every other week until the last 4-6 weeks and then every week until delivery. There are also ultrasounds at 8 weeks and 20 weeks unless you are having issues and then you get some more often. You usually see the same dr/midwife or drs/midwives within the same private practice knowing that one of these people will be delivering your baby (or should I say helping you deliver your baby!).
Here it's a bit different. Upon finding out that I was pregnant I went to my GP (General Practitioner) at the "surgery" that we are a part of. Surgery is what they call a practice or medical group. Balham Park Surgery is where we go. So, I called and scheduled an appointment and was seen by a GP. She gave me some paperwork that congratulated me, told me to take vitamins, told me what not to eat, told me not to drink "too much alcohol" and informed me of my choices for delivery. Here you have 4 choices for your delivery: NHS Home Birth (where a midwife comes to your house when you're in labour), NHS Midwife Led Hospital birth (all straightforward labours and births are midwife led), NHS Elective Cesarean (which are never mentioned and until recently believed to be not allowed. There is a very stringent process that you must go through in order to have an elective Cesarean through the NHS.), and "Going Private" (this means that you elect to use your private insurance which often covers very little of the birth. People choose to go private because they get private rooms for aftercare and generally more catered treatment since the hospital would be making money off of them.) Some people go through the NHS but ask if there are any private rooms available and then pay out of pocket for a private room once they're at the hospital.
I knew I wanted to have a Midwife Led Hospital birth so now I needed to choose the hospital. People often go with the hospital near their house or one that they have had recommended to them by friends. Since I didn't know all that many people when I found out I was pregnant I went online to do my research. St. George's is the hospital near my house, but I had also heard good things about St. Thomas's and I had been there once while we lived in Westminster. St. Thomas's has a very nice labour room where you can look out the windows onto the River Thames, Big Ben and Parliament, but I've been in labour before and I know what a waste that is. A fantastic view like that should be saved for people recovering, not those in labour. Labour is a time to turn inward, focus and shut out distractions... I had my blinds closed during my entire labour with Vivian.
The hospitals no longer allow tours because of the risk of spreading illness to the mothers and babies, but you can go to their website and get a virtual tour. St. George's has a natural birthing suite with pools for water birth and it's close to our house, so I chose to deliver there.
At my meeting with my GP at 5 weeks she told me to choose a hospital and then schedule my booking appointment at 8 weeks. At that appointment they take your blood and urine to check for abnormalities and ask you what type of birth you'd like. I told them I would like the Carmen Suite (which is the natural birthing suite) and they noted that making sure I knew that I could do that if it's available. (There are 5000 babies born per year in this hospital, so people don't always get what they want during labour and delivery.) I expected to get to hear the heartbeat at this appointment but the midwife said no. Apparently she would get in trouble if she tried to listen to the heartbeat so early.
At 12 weeks you have your first "scan" (their word for ultrasound). The 12 week scan checks for likelihood of Down's Syndrome and checks to see the baby's size and how many are in there. After the 12 week scan you wait to get the results of the Down's test in the mail. It arrives and gives you a % chance that your baby has Down's syndrome. Ours was extremely low.
At 16 weeks we went in for our first real midwife appointment. The midwife just asked us questions, checked my urine and let me listen to the heartbeat. It was all very straightforward and I didn't have any questions, so it was quite quick. Mark and Vivian came to that appointment with me. After realizing how quick it was, I told Mark he doesn't need to take time off work for that again. It's 30 minutes of waiting in the waiting room and 10 minutes of talking with the midwife.
After the 16 week appointment there are no appointments until your 20 week "anomaly scan." At 20 weeks they do an intensive scan where they check for any abnormalities in the baby's size or various organs. The man who did our scan was extremely thorough. He showed us every organ and commented on the fact that it was healthy and normal. We got to see the heart and brain in detail and we got to know the sex of the baby if we wanted to... we did... It's a girl!
No appointments after the 20 week scan until 28 weeks. At which time they just ask you questions, check your urine, measure your belly and listen to the heartbeat. I had a few questions this time, but it still took about 10 minutes.
No more appointments with the midwife until 36 weeks, but at 34 you're supposed to go see your GP again. I just did this on Wednesday and it was very straightforward. I'm not sure why you do it, but it went just fine.
I have my 36 week appointment in two weeks and we'll see what happens there. I'm sure it's more of the same. They begin asking you questions regarding swelling and check your urine for sign of protein which indicates pre-eclampsia. Pre-eclampsia is dealt with seriously here as it is in the states. If you show signs of it in the states, they induce you. I'm not 100% sure about here, but I believe it's the same.
There are certain routine tests that are done in the states that are not done here without some factors indicating high risk. For example, gestational diabetes are only tested here if you show serious signs. When I asked about that the midwife said I definitely did not show signs. They also don't test for Strep B which I have heard can be a problem for the women who do have it. I'm not 100% clear on what Strep B is, but I know that the mother can carry it and then pass it onto their baby during birth resulting in quite a lot of complications. If you are known to have Strep B you have to be on antibiotics for 24 hours prior to delivery in order to prevent your baby from getting it. I'm not sure how they handle that here. I guess I should ask. I didn't have it with Vivian, but I think you can somehow contract it during pregnancy.
The other thing they don't do here is internal checks. During my pregnancy with Vivian they did routine internal checks to make sure that everything looked normal. When I asked about that here the midwife said that multiple studies have shown that it doesn't do any good, so why not just leave well enough alone. Sounds good to me!
So, there you have it. I now have 5 and a half weeks to go. I've not seen the labour and delivery ward or the Carmen Suite. I have been to the hospital three times, so I know generally where to go, but no more than that. I have a friend who used to work there and has friends there. She told me this morning that she might be able to get me in to see what I'm working with. Mark and I are doing a Natal Hypnotherapy workshop in two weeks. It was recommended by a woman that has given me a few massages. She said that I would benefit by it because of the fear that might be associated with labour and delivery after breaking my tailbone last time. I agree. I don't want to go into this feeling afraid. That wouldn't do anyone any good. In Natal Hypnotherapy they recommend touring the hospital before hand so you know exactly what you're dealing with. Uncertainty brings fear and that causes all of your muscles to tighten and your adrenaline levels to rise, which is the opposite of what you're trying to do. If I can get in to tour the hospital I will!
When I first found out I was pregnant I was really worried about what I'd do with Vivian when I went into labour. A friend at church and playgroup soon after offered to watch her for me. A few weeks ago another friend from church and playgroup offered to be a backup. It's nice to have friends! I will still be concerned that she's doing okay, but it's so nice that Mark can come with me to the hospital!
I'm glad I finally got this all down. Sorry for the novel, but I know that several people were very curious. I will keep updating the blog with information regarding the NHS as it happens. Hopefully there won't be too much prior to the actual delivery! Here's to a quick delivery this time!!!
05 March 2013
Motherhood
I try really hard to be a good mother. There are days when I think I'm doing a great job. I have not had one of those days in quite a while.
I feel like Vivian has the upper hand right now. Last night she woke up screaming at 11:41 (I had already been asleep for two hours) and stayed awake until almost 3. I have said it before, because I believe that it's true, "Exhaustion is the enemy of good parenting." I don't know how to do this. I'm totally wiped out. I can't nap during the day because of the construction going on next door and I can't get more than two hours of sleep at a time at night.
I'm hosting book club tonight, which is great in terms of social progress since moving to London. Not so good in terms of getting to bed at a reasonable time. They often run until 11 and then there's cleanup.
I'm also hosting a dinner for women from my church tomorrow night. Once again, great social progress, but bad for ever catching up on this sleep.
When I was pregnant with Vivian I seem to remember being mostly happy and excited and glowy. Now I feel worn down, haggard and overly emotional. I've been crying every time someone asks me how I'm doing. I'm sitting here writing in my blog for my own sanity, but I should be prepping for book club tonight. I need to make quiches and a crudite platter.
I guess it's a good thing that I'm already pregnant, because I can honestly say that I don't know that I would try to do this again if I wasn't. I feel like I look like I've aged 10 years in the past two. Maybe that's what happens in your thirties. Maybe that's what happens when you have kids. Maybe that's what happens when you have kids in your thirties.
I feel like Vivian has the upper hand right now. Last night she woke up screaming at 11:41 (I had already been asleep for two hours) and stayed awake until almost 3. I have said it before, because I believe that it's true, "Exhaustion is the enemy of good parenting." I don't know how to do this. I'm totally wiped out. I can't nap during the day because of the construction going on next door and I can't get more than two hours of sleep at a time at night.
I'm hosting book club tonight, which is great in terms of social progress since moving to London. Not so good in terms of getting to bed at a reasonable time. They often run until 11 and then there's cleanup.
I'm also hosting a dinner for women from my church tomorrow night. Once again, great social progress, but bad for ever catching up on this sleep.
When I was pregnant with Vivian I seem to remember being mostly happy and excited and glowy. Now I feel worn down, haggard and overly emotional. I've been crying every time someone asks me how I'm doing. I'm sitting here writing in my blog for my own sanity, but I should be prepping for book club tonight. I need to make quiches and a crudite platter.
I guess it's a good thing that I'm already pregnant, because I can honestly say that I don't know that I would try to do this again if I wasn't. I feel like I look like I've aged 10 years in the past two. Maybe that's what happens in your thirties. Maybe that's what happens when you have kids. Maybe that's what happens when you have kids in your thirties.
02 March 2013
Bit of a Breakdown
I started crying on Northcote Road today.
Saturdays are usually super fun family days where we get up, go to breakfast and do something fun together before Vivi's nap. Today I had planned to take Viv out to breakfast, but by the time we were up and ready I decided it was smarter to just eat before we went anywhere. I wanted to check out a shop that sells maternity clothes on Northcote Road, so we got to take the big red bus a couple of stops. As soon as we got on the bus Viv started crying because she wanted to sit in a seat upstairs. Well, I can't carry her and the buggy and my belly up those stairs, so she ended up continuing to cry until we got off the bus. No explanations helped.
We went to the maternity store and the stuff I wanted to try on didn't really work and there was nothing there that looked appealing so we went to the kids store next door and found some rubber duckies that don't have holes in the bottom... Why do so many bath toys have holes in the bottom? The water gets in and then they can't get dry enough and end up molding... terrible. Vivi was so excited about her new duckies that she carried them for quite a ways until she got tired. We stopped at one more shop which is a child's charity shop (thrift store). At that point she asked nicely if she could hold the pink rubber duckie. Of course. So I got it out for her and she immediately started screaming because the duckies tail got in the way of her holding it around the neck like she wanted. I finally took it away and she calmed down.
10 yards down the road (with very narrow sidewalks and a very busy street) she noticed that in my attempt to get the pink duckie out of the duckie cylinder the green duckie got turned around. It was at the bottom and she wanted me to straighten it out. No way. Screaming fit. I asked her to hold my hand and she had a complete meltdown. She wouldn't hold my hand and she wouldn't get in the buggy. I tried everything. Eventually I started crying too, because what else could I do. She wouldn't move, she wouldn't cooperate and she was completely beyond reason. I know she was exhausted, but I can't get her home unless she works with me. I am no longer capable on just picking her up and walking with her kicking and screaming. My belly is too big, she's too big and I can't take deep enough breaths to handle it. So, I sat there crying on the side of one of the busiest streets in Southwest London with happy families walking past me constantly while my toddler screamed as if I were beating her.
Eventually she just calmed herself down and asked to get in the buggy and then happily played with her pink duck while I slowly pushed her home.
She's exhausted. She hasn't been sleeping during her nap. I'm exhausted. I have been waking up every two hours and can't nap during the day because they're doing construction next door. I'm reading a book about Highly Sensitive Children (I think she's highly sensitive for several reasons) and supposedly there is a section that talks about how to discipline children like that. Maybe I should skip ahead.
When we got home we cuddled on the couch a little bit and then I told her it was time to go potty and take a nap. Once again, complete meltdown. I can't force her to sit on the toilet. Somehow I talked her into it and then she freaked out again when I said we needed to go upstairs instead of downstairs because it was naptime. She refused. So, I picked her up and put her in her room and shut the door. She screamed bloody murder while I sat and cried some more. Eventually I went in there, crying, and just told her that I don't know how I'm supposed to handle these situations. She started crying more and told me not to cry. Then she told me that she loved me. I told her that it is really hard for me when she doesn't cooperate and she screams and she told me that she didn't want to scream. It was actually kind of a sweet moment, but man, I was just at the end of my rope. I feel like I'm getting worse and worse at being a mom. I'm too tired. I don't have the strength to hold her for hours at a time like she wants me to. And I honestly have no idea how to handle these meltdown moments. The only thing I can think of is that we should have just stayed home so that I could put her down early since she's obviously really tired. But then I'm totally trapped.
I need some solid, uninterrupted sleep and a glass of wine. But I guess both will have to wait.
Saturdays are usually super fun family days where we get up, go to breakfast and do something fun together before Vivi's nap. Today I had planned to take Viv out to breakfast, but by the time we were up and ready I decided it was smarter to just eat before we went anywhere. I wanted to check out a shop that sells maternity clothes on Northcote Road, so we got to take the big red bus a couple of stops. As soon as we got on the bus Viv started crying because she wanted to sit in a seat upstairs. Well, I can't carry her and the buggy and my belly up those stairs, so she ended up continuing to cry until we got off the bus. No explanations helped.
We went to the maternity store and the stuff I wanted to try on didn't really work and there was nothing there that looked appealing so we went to the kids store next door and found some rubber duckies that don't have holes in the bottom... Why do so many bath toys have holes in the bottom? The water gets in and then they can't get dry enough and end up molding... terrible. Vivi was so excited about her new duckies that she carried them for quite a ways until she got tired. We stopped at one more shop which is a child's charity shop (thrift store). At that point she asked nicely if she could hold the pink rubber duckie. Of course. So I got it out for her and she immediately started screaming because the duckies tail got in the way of her holding it around the neck like she wanted. I finally took it away and she calmed down.
10 yards down the road (with very narrow sidewalks and a very busy street) she noticed that in my attempt to get the pink duckie out of the duckie cylinder the green duckie got turned around. It was at the bottom and she wanted me to straighten it out. No way. Screaming fit. I asked her to hold my hand and she had a complete meltdown. She wouldn't hold my hand and she wouldn't get in the buggy. I tried everything. Eventually I started crying too, because what else could I do. She wouldn't move, she wouldn't cooperate and she was completely beyond reason. I know she was exhausted, but I can't get her home unless she works with me. I am no longer capable on just picking her up and walking with her kicking and screaming. My belly is too big, she's too big and I can't take deep enough breaths to handle it. So, I sat there crying on the side of one of the busiest streets in Southwest London with happy families walking past me constantly while my toddler screamed as if I were beating her.
Eventually she just calmed herself down and asked to get in the buggy and then happily played with her pink duck while I slowly pushed her home.
She's exhausted. She hasn't been sleeping during her nap. I'm exhausted. I have been waking up every two hours and can't nap during the day because they're doing construction next door. I'm reading a book about Highly Sensitive Children (I think she's highly sensitive for several reasons) and supposedly there is a section that talks about how to discipline children like that. Maybe I should skip ahead.
When we got home we cuddled on the couch a little bit and then I told her it was time to go potty and take a nap. Once again, complete meltdown. I can't force her to sit on the toilet. Somehow I talked her into it and then she freaked out again when I said we needed to go upstairs instead of downstairs because it was naptime. She refused. So, I picked her up and put her in her room and shut the door. She screamed bloody murder while I sat and cried some more. Eventually I went in there, crying, and just told her that I don't know how I'm supposed to handle these situations. She started crying more and told me not to cry. Then she told me that she loved me. I told her that it is really hard for me when she doesn't cooperate and she screams and she told me that she didn't want to scream. It was actually kind of a sweet moment, but man, I was just at the end of my rope. I feel like I'm getting worse and worse at being a mom. I'm too tired. I don't have the strength to hold her for hours at a time like she wants me to. And I honestly have no idea how to handle these meltdown moments. The only thing I can think of is that we should have just stayed home so that I could put her down early since she's obviously really tired. But then I'm totally trapped.
I need some solid, uninterrupted sleep and a glass of wine. But I guess both will have to wait.
11 January 2013
Why London might be the best thing that ever happened to me
It's been a while... sorry. I have the best intentions of "catching up" and back-filling all of the stuff that I've neglected to record over the past few months.
Speaking of intentions...
The past few days after my parents left to go back home, I have been really concentrating on improving who I am as a mother. Having my mom and dad here to ask about little details about parenting as they arise was totally invigorating. I have found that parenting a toddler can be very wearing. Sometimes I feel great, like I'm doing a wonderful job. A lot of times I feel worn down to the nub because the only thing I can do is count to three to get Vivian to do anything I ask of her.
My mom gave me the same advice that she's been giving me for the past year: Stay ahead of her. Make it fun. Change things up so that she doesn't get into patterns of obstinance.
That advice is amazing... but it's incredibly hard. That means that Vivian has to be my number one priority at the forefront of my mind all day long every day. It might seem like that's the case already since I stay home with her, but I realize now that it hasn't been. My priorities aren't always the same, but they often put her second, third or even fourth after laundry, making dinner, cleaning because someone is coming over, checking my email. I don't believe that I need to be focusing 100% of my attention on her during every waking hour. In my opinion that kind of attention could be a bit damaging for her development, but I do believe that I need to make a few adjustments in my scheduling and in my daily choices so that my job as a mother is front and center.
All of this brings me to why London might be the best thing that ever happened to me. Moving here has not been easy. It has been an emotional roller coaster as you know if you've been reading this blog or talking to me at all over the past 8 months. One of the reasons it has been so difficult is because nothing is easy anymore. I know that you probably had to read that sentence twice because it is so obvious that it couldn't possibly be what I meant. But it is... It is really nice to be comfortable. When we went home in November I felt so comfortable. I knew exactly where to go to buy the groceries I wanted and I knew exactly which brands to get. I was able to drive places and get there in a reasonably predictable amount of time. When I spent money I knew exactly how much I was spending in dollars. I ate yummy food that I was familiar with (and gained a bunch of weight, but that's entirely beside the point). I got to hang out with people I know and could be honest and comfortable with from the start. I didn't feel awkward about using my own American figures of speech. All in all, it was perfect! It was exactly what we needed and when we returned home to London we decided that we wouldn't have changed a thing! (So, thank you to everyone who was so warm and hospitable.)
I mention all of those comforts because they are in direct contrast to what life has been like for me the first few months in London. (I am just speaking for myself here. Mark and my experiences are really quite different. He would probably agree with me on some of what I say, but I don't want to make assumptions and speak for him.) Things have not been terrible. I have every necessary comfort and probably couldn't have had a better transition to a different country when I look at the big picture. The thing I missed the most was comfort. Nothing was comfortable. Nothing was easy. Having to learn new ways of doing basic things gets really tiring. Knowing how to easily navigate your daily life allows you to relax in a way that I just didn't do for quite a while. I'm starting to relax now and realize that maybe a little bit of discomfort isn't such a bad thing.
I haven't had a smart phone since we moved here. My prepaid phone makes texting super annoying so I do it as little as possible. The only way to get online is with the computer. It's a laptop so it's still portable but I can't do anything online while we're on the bus or walking to the market. I have been looking forward to getting an iPhone, and then today I read an article that kind of rocked my world. The author has decided to stop wasting her time with her children by being on her phone or computer all the time. It made me kind of glad that I haven't been able to get an iPhone yet. I don't have a lot of self-control when I have access to those kinds of devices. I also decided that maybe I'll put my laptop upstairs so that I only use it during Vivi's naps or after she's in bed.
These two topics seem to be inextricably linked for me. Moving to London has forced me to be incredibly intentional about almost every aspect of my life. A move towards cutting myself off from email and Facebook while Vivian is awake doesn't seem like it's that hard after the adjustments that we've all made over the past year. If we were still living our wonderfully comfortable life in Oak Park, I don't know if I would be willing to put up with that discomfort. I don't think I'd be willing to throw away my smart phone and get an annoying old phone that is so frustrating I never use it.
I have several friends who are really good at living intentionally. Just this past year a very good friend examined her life and decided that there were certain things missing from it, so she made some big changes. I was inspired at the time, but wasn't even comfortable enough in my life here to relate to what she meant. Now I am. It's wonderful to be comfortable. I am doing everything I can to get myself and my family to place where we are comfortable living here, in this house, in the city, in this country. But, while I'm working so hard to create the life that we want to be living, I figure I may as well do it in a way that is best for us all in the long run.
(And, now off to do some ironing while Vivian is still sleeping. Ironing... another super annoying and time-consuming thing that I have had to begin doing since we've moved here.)
Speaking of intentions...
The past few days after my parents left to go back home, I have been really concentrating on improving who I am as a mother. Having my mom and dad here to ask about little details about parenting as they arise was totally invigorating. I have found that parenting a toddler can be very wearing. Sometimes I feel great, like I'm doing a wonderful job. A lot of times I feel worn down to the nub because the only thing I can do is count to three to get Vivian to do anything I ask of her.
My mom gave me the same advice that she's been giving me for the past year: Stay ahead of her. Make it fun. Change things up so that she doesn't get into patterns of obstinance.
That advice is amazing... but it's incredibly hard. That means that Vivian has to be my number one priority at the forefront of my mind all day long every day. It might seem like that's the case already since I stay home with her, but I realize now that it hasn't been. My priorities aren't always the same, but they often put her second, third or even fourth after laundry, making dinner, cleaning because someone is coming over, checking my email. I don't believe that I need to be focusing 100% of my attention on her during every waking hour. In my opinion that kind of attention could be a bit damaging for her development, but I do believe that I need to make a few adjustments in my scheduling and in my daily choices so that my job as a mother is front and center.
All of this brings me to why London might be the best thing that ever happened to me. Moving here has not been easy. It has been an emotional roller coaster as you know if you've been reading this blog or talking to me at all over the past 8 months. One of the reasons it has been so difficult is because nothing is easy anymore. I know that you probably had to read that sentence twice because it is so obvious that it couldn't possibly be what I meant. But it is... It is really nice to be comfortable. When we went home in November I felt so comfortable. I knew exactly where to go to buy the groceries I wanted and I knew exactly which brands to get. I was able to drive places and get there in a reasonably predictable amount of time. When I spent money I knew exactly how much I was spending in dollars. I ate yummy food that I was familiar with (and gained a bunch of weight, but that's entirely beside the point). I got to hang out with people I know and could be honest and comfortable with from the start. I didn't feel awkward about using my own American figures of speech. All in all, it was perfect! It was exactly what we needed and when we returned home to London we decided that we wouldn't have changed a thing! (So, thank you to everyone who was so warm and hospitable.)
I mention all of those comforts because they are in direct contrast to what life has been like for me the first few months in London. (I am just speaking for myself here. Mark and my experiences are really quite different. He would probably agree with me on some of what I say, but I don't want to make assumptions and speak for him.) Things have not been terrible. I have every necessary comfort and probably couldn't have had a better transition to a different country when I look at the big picture. The thing I missed the most was comfort. Nothing was comfortable. Nothing was easy. Having to learn new ways of doing basic things gets really tiring. Knowing how to easily navigate your daily life allows you to relax in a way that I just didn't do for quite a while. I'm starting to relax now and realize that maybe a little bit of discomfort isn't such a bad thing.
I haven't had a smart phone since we moved here. My prepaid phone makes texting super annoying so I do it as little as possible. The only way to get online is with the computer. It's a laptop so it's still portable but I can't do anything online while we're on the bus or walking to the market. I have been looking forward to getting an iPhone, and then today I read an article that kind of rocked my world. The author has decided to stop wasting her time with her children by being on her phone or computer all the time. It made me kind of glad that I haven't been able to get an iPhone yet. I don't have a lot of self-control when I have access to those kinds of devices. I also decided that maybe I'll put my laptop upstairs so that I only use it during Vivi's naps or after she's in bed.
These two topics seem to be inextricably linked for me. Moving to London has forced me to be incredibly intentional about almost every aspect of my life. A move towards cutting myself off from email and Facebook while Vivian is awake doesn't seem like it's that hard after the adjustments that we've all made over the past year. If we were still living our wonderfully comfortable life in Oak Park, I don't know if I would be willing to put up with that discomfort. I don't think I'd be willing to throw away my smart phone and get an annoying old phone that is so frustrating I never use it.
I have several friends who are really good at living intentionally. Just this past year a very good friend examined her life and decided that there were certain things missing from it, so she made some big changes. I was inspired at the time, but wasn't even comfortable enough in my life here to relate to what she meant. Now I am. It's wonderful to be comfortable. I am doing everything I can to get myself and my family to place where we are comfortable living here, in this house, in the city, in this country. But, while I'm working so hard to create the life that we want to be living, I figure I may as well do it in a way that is best for us all in the long run.
(And, now off to do some ironing while Vivian is still sleeping. Ironing... another super annoying and time-consuming thing that I have had to begin doing since we've moved here.)
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