Fetch it!

Amy is our little Jack Russel. She is a pure bred hunter, will catch everything that moves. She has caught rats, snakes, mice and her favourite moths.

Last night she was in the laundry hovering around the washing machine, no matter how much I called she would not leave it. Then the other Jack Russel, Ice, joined her I knew this wasn’t a moth she was after.

I moved the veggie rack out of the way, still she was around the washing machine. So I pulled the washing machine out carefully, she ran behind and around it. Still could not see anything.

Then I called Bearn to come help me lift it to see if anything was under the machine. She went under sniffing like crazy but still nothing was found. Bearn left again after not finding anything of interest.

Looking around the machine I was thinking if I see a pair of eyes looking at me I will poop my pants. Yet I still look.

I, for some reason, decided to look in the machine. Then saw that you can see the inside of the machine just above the rim. There was a pair of eyes staring at me and a tail hanging over the edge of the drum.

I did poop my pants and screamed for Bearn! He came back and we tilted the machine and pushed it out with the broom handle.

Poor rat didn’t stand a chance. Ice and Amy each wanted a bit of it.

Emergency trip

On Saturday Bearn bought himself some beers and packed them into the fridge. A little while later I went in to get some thing out of the fridge and one came flying out at me.

Broken glass every where and the house now smelt like a brewery, Bearn grabbed the child and I started cleaning. We got all the big pieces up. There were hundreds of little shards. I figured that they would all stick to a towel, so clever me mopped up the last of the beer and glass with the towel.

We had people coming over for said beer so I put the towel in a neat little ball in the corner, where it was forgotten for then.

Sunday I started on the washing and sort it into neat piles and in the towel goes into the washing machine.

A little while later Graeme came to me holding up his foot, and instantly I knew. Grabbed him and took him to Bearn to pin down and I pulled a teeny tiny piece of glass from under his foot.

To distract Graeme I lay on my stomach on the bed biting and tickling him, but I was at a funny angle so I pulled my knee down to straighten my leg and as I did so I felt sudden sharp pain in my knee.

I quickly sat up and saw a gapping hole on my knee. Ok it was about 3 cm all round.  I shouted for Bearn to help me because I had been cut by a piece of glass. <I just want to say his initial though was that that I had cut myself on Graeme’s tiny piece of glass and was kicking up a fuss.>

He looked at my knee and we decided I would need a stitch as it was deep and on the knee, being a bendy bit of the body and all. I stuck a ball of cotton wool and a plaster on.

Off I went to the hospital – where I was visiting some one any way-. By the time I saw a sister to assess if it needed  said stitch/es. By the time she looked at it, it had sealed itself up ever so nicely, sigh. She said it was a surface wound and I had to explain that it was rather deep 20 minutes earlier.

The sister cleaned my tiny scratch up and told me she would not charge me with a slight hint of a giggle and a look of shame she just wanted attention.

Why so judgemental?

I know I may be opening a can of worms with this post, but oh well it is my blog and I will say what I want.  These are my opinions, you are entitled to feel differently.

Why do we feel the need to judge others on how they gave birth to their babies or what milk they fed them?

I had an emergency C-section because I was induced and Graeme was not dropping after many hours of labour and I breastfed for 14 months. I wanted a natural birth no pain killers and was going to breastfeed for 3 months. I would still like to have a natural birth for the experience and I will breastfed the next child, because I want to not because of any other reasons.

I worked at a school, granted it was special needs, but I could not tell you which kids were natural or C-section nor which where breast or bottle fed. And I doubt if you went into any school you would be able to tell the difference. I also did numerous teaching pracs and the children all pretty much looked like children. None had labels around their necks “Handle with care – Bottle fed” / “Handle with care – Extra long natural birth”.

I do believe there is a HUGE difference between bottle and breast feeding when in a rural community and there is not adequate access to clean water and sanitation. I have many friends who have bottle fed healthy happy babies some who are on par with Graeme developmentally and some who are above him. My issue with society forcing breast feeding is that the moms try so hard to give their babies the best, yet they end up with cracked nipples, no support and PND as a result.

My one friend struggled for a month to breast feed her baby, and eventually pumping because she could not feed him. And ended up with bad PND. Second time round she said she would like to give it a try again, and did but baby would not latch. So she went straight onto formula and was much happier because of it. This little boy has not been sick once despite being exposed to his big brother who goes to creche and other snotty monsters – such as mine.

Moving on to the birth choices. Really now I get that a baby was meant to come out of a woman’s bits. But if a mother wants to get her baby taken out via C-section what difference does it make in any one else’s life? Its her body and her baby. Society pushing on a woman how important natural birth is sometimes does more damage than good in my eyes. What about the woman who wants a C-section but everyone convinces her otherwise, if she is not mentally prepared to push that baby out she could end up with a long unhappy labour and not managing to bond with her baby.

I would like to say well done to all the mommies no matter how your baby was born – c-section, natural or adoption – and how you baby was fed. You are the best mommy cause you are their mommy and you love them. Dont let any one else judge you as long as you do what you feel is right.

 

Why the Porché??

On Friday when driving home after seeing the latest Sparkly Vampire movie with my friend. I had this bad feeling as soon as I got in the car.

I have been driving for just over a year now and nothing bad has happened. I have not been any where near being in an accident, besides the once and that was not my fault as he was on the wrong side of the road.

This is a sum up of what happened:

I all of a sudden saw a big black Porché 4×4 in front of me at the robot. I slammed on brakes and hoped like shit I did not touch him, it did not feel like I did. Until I saw him move forward and his car door open I started shaking. Quickly slid my shoes on and got out of the car.

Me: “I am so sorry.”

Porché man: “Did you not see me?”

Me: “No, I am so sorry.”

I kept thinking I should give him some form of details. Then he looked at the bumper of his car, which had a 2cm white line on it.

Me: ” I am so sorry.”

Porché man: ” It’s a brand new car. “

Me: “I am sorry.”

Porché man: “Ag.”

Flapped his hand at the car and got back in and drove away.

Clearly in a difficult situation I lose all ability to speak and look like a complete idiot.

Pill pushing doctors

I can not handle doctors who happily prescribe meds.

On Monday Graeme’s chest sounded very tight. It actually had alarm bells ringing in my head, because his stomach was pulling in when he breathed in. Our normal GP is in Fish Hoek and that is 45 minutes from where we are in Town now. So I asked around for a doctor in the city bowl area. I received a few recommendations, but none of them could had appointments available as it was 4pm already. So I went with who I could, a doctor whom I have never heard of.

He checked Graeme’s chest and all the other bits and sat down in front of his computer with out saying a word. I had to ask if there was a problem, to get his chest is slightly tight. He proceeded to type in the computer for 10 minutes. This was no fun as I had to keep a very busy toddler still. He then wants to neb him, which I did alone. He did not even check if I needed help, just left me alone.

When I am ready to leave he hands me a script for 3 different types of meds, one of the meds being for flu. Um Graeme doesn’t have flu and the other 2 were chest meds. I left and opted not to get any of these meds. After the treatment he was fine, no more issues.

Until the next morning he was really mizz, luckily the chest seemed fine. So we went to woolies to get a couple of things. Waiting in the que to leave and he pukes all the way down his arm, into my hand and the trolley. One hand with puke, child covered in puke and me trying to find a tissue. The gent behind me quickly ran to get me tissues. Thank you kind man and sorry Woolies for the pukey trolley.

So I make an appointment with the normal pead, I couldn’t do this the day before as it was too late. The child checks out 100s and no meds are prescribed. Well he did prescribe something if the puking continued.

Just goes to show that one should stick to the doctor they know. I really know how to choose bad doctors sometimes.

I would never…

As you do before you have a child of your own you judge parents for how they deal with their kids. I know I had many preconceived ideas. There were many things I would and would not do with my child. I probably have many more of these notions that I will go against.

Some of my set in stone ideas I had before Graeme:

• I would only breast feed until 3 months, was the idea before I fell pregnant. Then while pregnant I heard all the benefits so it moved to 6 months. Then once I started I loved it so moved it to a year. I only stopped at 14 months.
• I would use toweling nappies. This one I really did have goo intentions with and I gave it a good go. I had about 40 toweling squares and all the junk that goes with clothe nappies. But Graeme has skinny legs and every time he did any thing in the nappy it leaked. My failed clothe nappy attempt.  
• I would never co-sleep. Lets just say I found it easier to breastfeed in my sleep and he is still in the bed half the night.
• My child would never eat junk. He does enjoy his occasional packet of flings.

I am sure there are many more… 

What set in stone ideas changed once you had a child?

Gym done

I went to Gym today after my 2 weeks of not being allowed to do any form of exercise. Felt good, but that may change by morning.

While I was gymming I was thinking about all of the reasons I was there and what I was doing it for. So why not write them down and share…

My reasons:

1. I want to look good. I am over being the fat one!

2. I want to have a successful VBAC next time round.

3. I want to be able to walk into a store and buy anything and know it will look good.

4. I want to be a good role model for Graeme (and any future children), I dont want to be the fat parent that can’t take part because they are out of breathe in 2 minutes!

5. I want to find my self confidence.

My new motto: Nothing tastes as good as thin feels!

Secret Club

Before I had my D&C I did not realise how many people had miscarriages and D&Cs and just how common it really is.

I was only invited in the secret club once I had my D&C and honestly I am sure we would all prefer if this club did not exist. I don’t really want to belong to this club as things like this happen to other people. But the women who are part of it are so understanding and warm. It has helped the healing process hugely to have people to talk to who understand.

I am part of a forum that is for women who are trying to conceive (be it via the conventional route, with a little help or with adoption), are with a bump or already have hooligans of their own.  I started chatting on the thread appropriate for my due date from when I was about 5 weeks. When I found out that the baby had died and I needed a D&C, I went on and told the group I would be leaving the little clique. I then noticed a thread that I had always seen but of course I always thought it would never have any relevance to me (after all I had halready had a successful pregnancy), “The pregnancy after D&C” thread. I joined this thread in the hope of some help or support and I have ‘met’ an amazing bunch of women.

Only one of my friends has had D&Cs (that I was aware of), I was aware that she had about 4 of them but all of this happened before I had met her so the circumstances surrounding them were not really discussed: the topic never arose. She was one of the first people I phoned as I knew she would have advice and tell me what to expect and really there wasn’t any one else I could think of at the time.  She lost 2 of the babies at 5 weeks, one at 8 weeks and one at 15 weeks. Subsequently we have had a few deep and meaningful conversations and I am sure it has brought us closer as friends as we now share a new common ground.

I have slowly started finding out about about more people who have had D&Cs. I bumped into a mommy that I met while I was pregnant and see on a fairly regular basis. She wasn’t aware of what had happened and asked how I was feeling (symptom wise). After I told her we got talking and it turns out she’s had 3 miscarriages. She also commented on how common it is.

I think one of the reasons people do not talk about miscarriages is because a miscarriage, unlike the death of a loved one where you are allowed to show your emotions and validate them in the form of a physical burial, is a burial of a small part of the heart. A quiet, unspoken death, which too, needs to be grieved and mourned. For me it was more of what could have been and what little world I had planned in my head.

You really do not realise how common it is until it happens to you – and really I hope it never does.

Evacuation

Tuesday after the going to the OBGYN and getting the news we went up to the 8th floor to do the pre-admissions. Nothing exciting, all pretty routine. I was told the standard no eating or drinking after 12 and to check in the next morning by 6:30am.

So up at 5:30 to do my scrub down with stuff that smelt like cutex-remover. Get the snuggly boy out of bed and dressed and off we head to the hospital.

Once there I spent about 30 minutes trying to finish the check in process before I am told to go up to floor 11. The Sister took me through to my ward but unfortunately Graeme could come in so Bearn took him home for the morning.

I waited for a Sister to come do the final prep. At about 8:30 I was wheeled down to surgery, where I got asked for the 5th time if I had crowns or dentures… Do I look like I may?

Once in theater they started looking for a vein as they normally do, I should really put up a prize for those who can find it first time. The Anesthetist finally got it in and told me I would start feeling woozy pretty soon, I thought “Nah, this is having no effect on me.” Until the room started bouncing and jiggling and I was gone.

I woke up in recovery with the worst period type pains. Then had to lie there for a while to wake up all the way before going back to the ward.

The woman opposite me was already out of theater and back in the ward. All friendly she asks if I also had the Marena inserted. No way of saying what I had done lightly, so I told her I had a D&C done because there was no heartbeat at 9 weeks.  Very observantly she points out I look a little sad. At this point I tried to snuggle as low into the sheets as possible at this point to try avoid any further conversation.

I asked the Sister if I could please get dressed, as I felt rather uncomfortable. She says I may, but not allowed to leave yet. The lady opposite me receives a phone call. From what I could gather it is her ex of sorts and he was trying to out himself and she is trying to calm him down. She also lets out that she had funny tissue removed at the same time. She eventually hangs up and tells the Sisters that she must go now. Finally crazy lady leaves, leaving behind not so happy Sisters as she should have stayed longer.

I asked the Sister if I could go get a magazine while I wait for Bearn and to be discharged. She allows me to and gives me my script to fill at the same time. The start of the walk was okish, by the time I was standing at the pharmacy I wanted to die. The pharmacist can see this and tells me to sit while she gets the meds. Meds done and bought my magazine, so I waddle back up to the ward to wait.

Bearn gets there basically the same time as I do. Get my stuff and check out.

Once home I had the most awesome sarmie that Bearn bought from the deli up the road and snuggled down for a well deserved 3 hour nap.

Hello and Goodbye

About 5 weeks ago I had a funny feeling that I was missing some one. Then I realised I was a week late. So I did a test and only one line shows up. Leave the test for a few minutes and look again and there is a second line slowly getting darker. I was not sure how to take this as they say dont read results after so many minutes. I figured I could always do a blood test.

So off to Joburg to visit Mommy dear and she takes me for a test on the monday, and lo-and-behold it comes back as 4 weeks. I get my head around this and give the other half a call. Needless to say he is happy about this as he wants 4 and says I can keep them coming.

I phoned the OBGYN and made the first appointment for 5 and a bit weeks. We did the check up and everything looked perfect, a little flutter showing the heart. It was around this time that my morning sickness started kicking in. Queasy here and there and the occasional run to the loo.

I had told some close friends and some forum buddies at this point. With Graeme I told the world at 8 weeks, but this time round I had a funny feeling to keep my mouth shut.

Fast forward 4 weeks.

On Saturday I had a strange desire for MacDonalds and that was the last time I had morning sickness.

My next check up was on Tuesday, I was 9.3 weeks. We did the normal catch up the the OBGYN and then time for the scan. She inserts the scanner jobby up my who-ha. As she is going up to the baby I can see it has grown, but something doesn’t look right, Its not moving at all and I cant see the little black-grey-white flicker of the heart.

At this point she turns and says “There is something I don’t like, I can’t see the heartbeat.” She looks and looks and no luck. She measures the baby and it stopped growing at 9.1 weeks. There were other little signs that may indicate that baby had a chromosomal abnormality, such as the nucheal fold was very large.

She told us our options of either waiting for things to happen naturally so any where between a week and a month or a D&C in the morning. I opted for the D&C. Which I went for yesterday.

Hello and Goodbye little one.