Category Archives: Being a Mummy

Adam And Mummy’s Big Adventure

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So, Thursday I had plans.  Plans to bathe the baby.  Plans to clean a bathroom.  Plans to watch some TV while cuddling.

At 1030, that all went pear shaped with a pounding on my door.  I was in the middle of changing a hugely pooey diaper, so I wrapped Adam in a diaper that wasn’t latched and went to answer it.  As I opened the door the smell of gas was overwhelming.  It was our maintenance guy.  We had a leak.

I finished diapering little man’s bottom, double checked the diaper bag, throwing a few more things in it, put on some clothes (I was still in my PJs, unwashed!!) and stuffed him into his Baby Bjorn.  No way was I going to risk the lift, even if it was working, so no pram for us!

Got down to the front of the building and waited for the gas company.  They arrived about 1100 and headed into the building.  Meanwhile people were casually coming out of the building, obviously having no idea anything was going on.  I don’t think they ever did evacuate the whole building.  Yes, I am writing a letter to the management company about this.

Anyway, maintenance guy comes out and says it will be hours.  The leak has been traced to the flat across the hall from mine (!) but they can’t get the owner on the phone.  I mention that I think he travels a lot.  And head into town.

At this point it is 1130.  Little man is, thank god, asleep against my chest in his Bjorn, but not at all adequately dressed for what turned out to be a very chilly day.  Luckily I had grabbed a blanket so I had that wrapped around him in the Bjorn.  Also luckily I keep a warmer set of clothes in the diaper bag.  As I was walking to City Centre I thought about where I could take him to put him in warmer clothes..AH HA Marks & Spencer has a family bathroom.  M&S it is.

Got to M&S and got him more properly dressed.  And then bought some knickers. 🙂

Then realized I was starving and needed a real lunch to make up for the fact that my day had gone to hell.  So I headed to Victoria Square.  Upon perusal of the options, I decided Pizza Express sounded good.  And it was.

Meanwhile I had not been able to reach Simon.  His mobile was going straight to voice mail. I knew he wasn’t teaching and didn’t think he had any meetings, so could not figure out what was going on.  I finally said DUH and called his office number.

Got him on the phone and told him a.) that his mobile must be off and b.) that we had been evacuated!  He was all WHAT? and said he’d call the landlord to see what was going on.  He asked me if I wanted him to come home, but I didn’t really see the point, so told him to stay at work, that I was going to eat this HUGE piece of chocolate fudge cake in front of me and then go shopping.  I mean, I was already at the mall. 🙂

As I was finishing up said chocolate cake, Simon rang again to say the landlord had no clue and he was coming back to see what was going on.  I told him to ring me when he got to Belfast and headed off to shop.

I have been looking for a new diaper bag, as ours was just too small.  I have been using it as a handbag as well and with all of my things plus the baby’s things, sometimes it just wouldn’t zip.  So my first stop was the Mecca of Handbags, aka the ground floor of House of Fraser.  I looked. I prodded.  I removed stuffing.  Nothing that would suit my needs.

My next stop was the Mecca of Sporty/Rugged Bags, aka Fossil.  And EUREKA! There, in the window, I saw it. Messenger style, so I could sling it from hip to shoulder. What looked like a tons of pockets…how much how much?!?!?  £108! Perfect! Started poking through it.  Pockets galore.  Large inner section..SOLD! A special thank you to Aunt Agnes and Aunt Sonny, whose generous monetary gifts went to paying for this bag to end all bags!!

I then headed out to the rest of the mall.  Wandered through Pumpkin Patch’s sale.  Nothing.  And then headed to Argos.  The other things Simon and I had been looking for were small lamps for indirect lighting in the baby’s room and a clock for his room.  EUREKA again.  These lamps were perfect.  One for Adam’s room and one for the front room.  Perfect for night feeds and changes!  And a clock? How could I resist this clock especially since people kept sending him sheep!

As I was waiting for my things to be brought to the counter in Argos, Simon rang to say he was at the flat, no sign of gas company, no sign of anything going on.  I told him to grab the pram and meet me at the bandstand at Corn Market, we’d run a few more errands and head home.

As I was leaving Argos, who do I run into? My hairdresser, who takes one look at my unwashed, standing on end hair and says ‘good thing you’re coming to see me on Saturday.’  I thwacked him with a package, showed off my son and headed off to meet Simon.

And then it started to rain.  Where’s my umbrella? In the pram.  Am I wearing a coat? I am not…

Eventually it stopped raining, Simon met me, we picked up a few things and headed home.  No sign of any gas incident in or around the building.  I fell into bed around 1500 and slept until 1800.

The moral of today’s story?

When your husband says to you ‘I have 10 minutes until I leave, do you want to hop in the shower’ say yes!

And The Ways They Stay The Same…

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I was told, by more than one person, that I’d never get to finish a book again.  I’ve actually finished the entire Dresden Series in the past approximately 3 months.  Slower than I would have pre-Adam, its true.  But I still find time to read.

I was told, by more than one person, that I’d have no time to go online.  I’m on almost as much as I was before he was born.  There are lots of times he will only sleep in my arms (or Simon’s).  So one hand surfs the net, the other hand holds him.

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I was told, by more than one person, that I’d never get to eat a hot meal again.  Well, sometimes that is true. Other times he sleeps away while Simon and I eat.  I am sure that will be more true as he gets older and sleeps less.

I was told, by more than one person, that I’d never get to soak in the tub again.  Why not?  Simon is just as capable of taking care of Adam while I did that (for almost 2 hours!!) the other day.

I don’t know, maybe I’m a bad mummy because I still do the things I enjoy even though I have a 5 week old baby? Or maybe I just know that sometimes it is more important to read a book/play on the computer/eat a meal while the baby sleeps than it is to hoover the floor/do the dishes/dust the front room?

Or maybe its because my husband and I share the load 50/50?  That he is up in the night with Adam as much as I am, while I sleep in our spare bed?  And vice versa?

Are we really that unusual in this?  If so, how sad for everyone else.  And how fantastic for us.

The Way Things Change…

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Obviously Simon and I knew our lives would change, once we had Adam, even before we knew he was Adam!

But I am not sure we knew about some of the things that would change.

We eat together at the table now, rather than in front of the TV.  Well, together in that we both have a place setting at the table.  Usually not together as Adam has that baby ability to get fussy/hungry as soon as our dinner is ready.  So one of us is usually feeding him while the other one eats.  But still, we’re at the table!

The three of us have been out of the flat nearly every day this week.  That’s a huge change for me, who would be content to sit on her butt in the flat every day all day for the rest of her life.  But, some how, knowing I am getting Adam out into the air, even if he sleeps the whole time, makes it easier for me to get organized to get out there.  That might change the other way once Simon goes back to work next week, but this week it has been nice.

I’m sure I’ll think of many others, but those are the two big ones.  Next entry will be about the things that haven’t changed.  Despite people telling me they would…

Has Been A Rough Couple of Days…

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Adam has not been settling easily and eating constantly.  Tried changing his formula, doesn’t seem to have made him any less hungry.  I will speak to the Health Visitor about it on Wednesday when she stops by to see him.

Also, my arthritis is kicking in.  My hands have been hurting a lot and my legs.  Part of it is fatigue and the reason I do think I may  have fibromyalgia.  I am suppose to have another appointment with the Rheumatoid people in a few months and we’ll pick back up the investigation.

I am counting down the days until I can start doing yoga again.  I really miss it.  I may have to do some basic positions with Adam in a sling, but at least I’ll be able to get moving again in a couple of weeks.

Being a mummy is the hardest and bestest thing I have ever done.

Breastfeeding…

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So, I wanted to breastfeed my son.  Not just because of all of the ‘breast is best’ propaganda around these days, but because it seems like a lovely way to feed a baby.  All that snuggling and skin on skin contact while giving my son his very best start, what could be bad with that?

So from the start, my very first appointment with a midwife, they asked me how I intended to feed my baby.  And I always answered, with no hesitation ‘breast’.  I knew there could be issues, that the art, if you will, of breast feeding has been lost some where along the way but that millions of women were doing it.  And I really wanted to.

And then he was born.  And wouldn’t even do a first feed in recovery due to his breathing.  And then he taken away from me within hours to be put in SCBU.  So I started hand expressing and did get a few milliliters of colostrum for him.  Which he took through a tube.

And then I got an electric pump while I was in hospital.  And I hooked myself up, every 3 hours, including round the clock.  And still only got a few drops.

So I started on the wives tales.  Fennel Tea.  Lactation Cookies.  More expressing. Sitting looking at him.  Smelling him.

And still I never expressed more than about 10 ml every 3 hours.  Not even close to enough to feed my hungry son, who by the end of his first week was up to 60 – 90 ml (90 ml is about 3 oz) every  3 – 4 hours.  My milk has just never come in.

And so I made the decision.  Cow and Gate via bottle.  I cried and agonized over this decision.  I fretted and worried.  What kind of mother can’t feed her son?

And then I realized I could feed my son.  I know formula isn’t the same as breast milk, no matter what it says on the tin.  But its keeping his tummy full.  And he is very healthy, according to the Health Visitor who was around yesterday.  And he’s content (well, as content as an 11 day old baby ever is 🙂 ).

What really angers me is other people’s reactions. I’m sorry if to you I’m not a complete Mummy because I am not breastfeeding.  But when eating time becomes a battle of wills? Not good for Mummy or Baby.

And it angers me the lack of support that some women show other women for their choices.  For their failures, if you will.  There are no pefect mummies.  Everyone makes choices for their children.  And all over the world women judge other women for those choices.

And the judging is not just over breast versus bottle.  Its disposable versus reusable.  Public school versus home schooling.  Free Range versus total watching.

And none of these issue, and many others, have a right or a wrong answer.  And yet we all judge each other about them every day.  And it needs to stop.

We are all mummies together.  We all have one common goal, to raise our kids to be the very best human beings they can be, or I hope that is the overall goal for all mummies.  I know it is my goal!

And if it isn’t your goal? I can respect that.  And support you in that.

Can you do the same for me?