Christmas

Last year I cooked and panicked. This year mum was supposed to be cooking but went down with the dreaded lurgy... this meant I was back on for cooking so began to panic about 4.30 Christmas eve.

Luckily my gorgeous brother Shane came home from Iraq (He wasnt due home for another week or so) and he is such a fabtastic cook that he willingly took over the duties. Dad and I then sat on the sofa and proceeed to get drunk... a couple of bottles of wine later and a bottle of port and a bottle of wiskly and we were doing the "your fab", "No, jor Flab, fab" "I love you" thing.

Dylan woke the house at about 5.30 and we attempted to get him back to bed. Mum and I lay on her bed, I with my head nodding (Why did I drink so much) and mum wishing desperately attempting to not vomit. Hmmm maybe we were both trying not to be sick.

Anyway at a healthy 8.30 we groaned, moaned and drove ourselves from our beds. Dylan was put in front of his big box (Decorated about 10.30 before the port but after the wine). It had a couple of balloons in with feathers, bubbles and sparkly bits, with a few tinker toys and basic cheap but cheerful crap.



After saying to everyone "dont buy him much" Dylans pile of pressies was huge.



The mess was fantastic and feathers, sparkly bits and fun flew threw the air. Wrapping paper was, of course, the most played with thing and the big box was a total hit.

Wine,


good food,

family




and a surplus of love abounded. This was probably one of the nicest Christmases Ive had in such a long time.

Walking in the Clouds

This weekend I drove over to Cumbria to visit Shaun and Jo again. Did the usual plebbing, eating and drinking but we also took in a HILL. I'm reliably informed it was a hill by Shaun who yomped up the mountain like it was a Sunday morning stroll through a flat park, to me it felt like mount Everest. In fact I think the reason I was so short of breath was due to altitude sickness. I mean I walk on a regular basis with the pram with the girls, whats the big deal about walking up a slight incline - DOH!!!

Anyway we left the car in sunshine and headed for a peak that at the time didn't look that far way. Shaun volunteered to carry Dylan in the baby ruck sack they brought us in March and off we sauntered. Hats donned we bimbled towards the bottom of the hill.



10 mins up a "slight rise" and I had peeled off my jacket and was panting somewhat.20 mins of altitude sickness later the peak still seemed some miles away and the cloud cover was beginning to sink over the peak we were heading for.

Another 20 mins stomping through marsh land and climbing stiles and we reached the tor point.



The climb up had become really ethereal, we couldn't see our hands in front of our faces and I thought I had perhaps had a heart attack and had passed into the bad lands.

But Dylan and Jo's smiling little faces made me realise I hadn't died, I was just bally unfit.

Weekend away

Ive had such a lovely weekend. Left home on Friday and drove across to Cumbria to Shaun and Jo. The drive across was lovely even in the rain. Started to get things unpacked and then discovered the little man had hit the coal bucket.


I know I should have rushed to him and grabbed the coal from his hands but he was so full of himself I found myself reaching for the camera to capture the moment.



I lay on the floor laughing my head off. He lay on the floor laughing at me laughing at him. It was the begining of a great weekend.

Two tooth Browning becomes three tooth Browning

Yeah, little man has teethed his way through to five teeth. Two on the bottom - now very prominent - and three on the top. These top three were not as great a struggle as the bottom two. He was slightly upset and restless but there didn't seem to be as much dribbling, crying and general wakefulness as the first time.

He is obviously enjoying his new teeth as he now munches happily on his veg and enthusiastically chews and sucks his way through a slice of toast. I have also tried him out on the sweeter things in life. Chocolate isn't such a hit but ice cream made his eyes pop and he chomped his way through a bowl of ice cream and pured apple.

Ive also lost a lot of my own inhibitions about food and rather than saying "no he isn't going to have that" I'm now saying "If I'm eating, he can try it". This has been a fun stage with highs and lows but generally more highs.

Oh my - where did the month go.

Well its been a month of high highs and low lows but I'm generally feeling like the world is a much better place to be in. I'm occasionally having a bad day but they are becoming few and far between. I know I keep saying it but Dylan has really helped me get through this time. He is totally amazing and I've loved this "extra" time I have had with him going through this exciting stage of his life.

He is now sitting from standing really easily and has attempted to stand without the aid of furniture a few times. He is still wobbly bob most of the time without furniture but I believe he will be happily walking by Christmas.

He has also cut his third tooth (top right), discovered the hallway and downstairs toilet and attempted to get up the stairs. I found out he could negotiate the stairs when I pootled up stairs quickly to get his clothes this morning. I left him merrily playing in the living room with Rolly Mo and Crabby Crab. Having picked out his clothes for the day I headed downstairs to be met by a grinning elf who was obviously very proud of himself four steps up.

Nightmare - and a definite "Hello - where are the stair guards".

We spent the day with NannySan and Grandie who are the most "doting foggies". Dylan just grins and shrieks most of the time. Nap time and Quiet time are pretty non existent but he so loves them both its joyous to see.

Keefe and I are on a very even keel. We have got into a sort of routine and when he does something that I don't like I bite my tongue or, if I'm feeling strong enough to deal with it, I deal with it.

All in all the future looks bright.

For the last ten days the little man has got firmer and firmer on his feet. He still struggles every now and then with the sitting from standing thang, but on the whole he is happily charging from one piece of furniture to the next. Clinging to passing legs or just standing with his hand outstretched requesting help!

He is sooo adorable!

Whenever I feel blue I just sit and watch him. Discovering this brave new world!

Its official - I'm not post natal

I'm just depressed. Is there a "just depressed"? In a way its great. Lisa informs me I'm not post natal because of the obvious bond I have with Dylan. There is, from her observations, a lot of love between us and although I admitted to having hard days with Dylan its obvious to her that I love him and he loves me and I'm doing a fantastic job with him.

Obvious!

I wish I could see it, believe it. I still feel like I'm pretending a lot of the time. Pretending to be a mum, pretending to be coping, pretending that everything is ok. There is a dream like quality that surrounds me, but this is, obviously all part of my depression.

Obviously!!


Still not told Keefe why I'm off. He hasn't questioned my "mastitus" story. He obviously doesn't really care. And that suits me.

Obviously!!!

Visit from the Perenatal Nurse.

Lisa came today, she is a part of a team that deals with women who are post/anti natal. She was lovely and I only cried once. Why did I cry? Because I was talking about my fear of loosing Dylan. The sensible part of me knows it's not going to happen, everyone has told me so, but it is there constantly in the back of my mind. If I let go of my feelings, if I give in to this darkness that nips at me I will loose myself totally. The Chasm is deep and dark and I feel as if Im sitting on the edge.

So I have to hold on tight to my emotions, to remain in control. The downside being Im finding it hard to talk to anyone.

On the up - Dylan is going in leaps and bounds with his walking/crawling. He stood and bawled today because he was stuck on the table and wanted desperately to be sitting but couldnt figure out how to get to the floor. He really is a quick learner. Within about 10 minutes he was happily pulling himself up and sitting back down again all with his "how clever am I smile".



Bless him he really does make the grey skies blue.

Look Mum!

Couldnt believe it today Dylan pulled himself up onto the stool in the dinning room and began to push it ahead of himself - WALKING. Mum and I just stood open mouthed then we laughed at him, then I got out my camera.


He was obviously so delighted with his new trick.

Lovely Weekend in London.

Just when I felt really down this weekend came along. I wasnt sure whether I was going to actually do it. But I forced myself to pack my bag and headed off to the airport.

Dylan and I flew down to Standstead. When we were waiting in the loby I saw looks of horror pass over several passengers faces "Oh no, we have a baby on board - but he was a total star and slept through most of the flight, after flirting with the air hostesses. We stayed the night with Jayney and Joe - who were lovely. Joe cooked for us and we went for a fab walk in the morning. Dylan slept in a drawer! So cute but I didnt get a picture - loosing my touch!

Jayney dropped us off and we caught the train into London to meet H. It was the first time H has met the wee man and they got on like a house on fire. They had a great time playing Peek-a-boo.


In his Nappy and happy at Aunty Hx's

In fact she was the first person he waved at - Yes hes waving!!! Think the mentality level was about on par (don't mean it Hooch). He crawled into every corner investigating the new space - Hx's floor has never been so clean.

Sadly Keefe came way too soon to take Dylan away to meet his side of the family. Before I sobbed H had sipped a glass of happy juice into my hand and told me to pluck her eyebrows. Distraction being the best form of defense!

After dressing and applying slap we headed off to Graemes 50th bash at the Tower of London, we had a lovely evening doing what the Hooch and I do best. Met up with Marcelle and met some lovely folks. The evening passed in a flow of drinks and chat. Foot sore and all drank out and taxi ordered, Marci joined us and we headed back to Hx's.

Saturday morning H left us to go gas soldiers and Marcie and I waffled the afternoon and evening away.


Aunty Marci and Dylan.

Catching up with Hx and Marci was lovely and filled me with a sense of strength I've definitely felt lacking over the last months. Feeling as low as I have been has made me realise how much I miss my friends. I know that even alone as I am I'm no longer lonely.

Depression

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse it did. Monday I crashed - big time. I broke a cup and everything crumbled. I found myself lying on the floor sobbing my heart out inconsolable.

I finally picked up the phone and called Sheila, my health visitor. She came round within the hour - obviously stressed by my sobbing - and we talked. Or rather she talked I mumbled, cried and cried some more.

She made an appointment for me to see my Doctor, who was very lovely and very understanding, but who told me I was not just depressed I was, after completing the becks test, seriously depressed - one step up, or is that down, from clinically depressed.

He prescribed citralopan and signed me off work for 3 weeks, with the warning that I could be off for a lot longer and to prepare myself for that eventuality.

Admitting I'm not coping has come hard. I'm really scared that depression will allow Keefe to take Dylan - can I be charged incapable? Will he understand? Shiela says this won't/can't happen, but what if it does. Dylan is the only thing right now that is keeping me sane! I'm scared that if I let go I will loose myself.

Failing, failing, failing.....

Today was probably one of the lowest days of my life for a long time. I woke this morning before Dylan woke and attempted to express – ½ an ounce again. I felt so despondent. I attempted (as the book suggested) to get Dylan to feed from me an hour later but he wasn’t interested, actually gagging and arching his back.

I loaded him up in the car and drove to mums. I could feel the tears starting to well up as I took him inside. Mum obviously didn’t know what was up and I ended running from the house in tears, without even kissing Dylan goodbye.

I feel like my body has rejected Dylan and he in turn has rejected me. I know its stupid but I can’t help it. I’ve tried so hard to get breast feeding right, we struggled at the start and I thought we were just hitting the easy part. But now I think its coming to an end. And that scares me. Will Keefe now feel its okay to take the little bloke away from me, he doesn’t need me after all. Will Dylan and I still have special mommie time!

I hate my body. I hate that Im still struggling to master breast feeding. I hate that I feel Im not feeding my baby!

Why?!?!

I keep trying but its not working. I’ve expressed every three hours on the hour for 30 mins, 15 mins on each breast doing 5 mins and then swapping, desperately attempting to stimulate the milk flow but its not increasing and Im so worried that my milk is drying up.

Dylan seems happy to feed from me at night but through the day he will only suckle for a min or two and then he is off looking for something else to entertain him. I can’t help feeling that if my milk does dry up going back to work has caused it. Expressing obviously hasn’t stimulated the production enough and Im feeling a bit…like … a failure.

Todays high light came in the form of a visit from Gemma, Aaron and Jonathan.



Gemma always makes me smile – she is so confident and the bond between her and Aaron is so strong. When I was a little low today I reminded myself that Gemma didn’t breast feed Aaron so obviously breastfeeding doesn’t affect the bond between mum and baby.

I know its wrong of me to feel like breast feeding is what creates the bond because its obvious from others who haven’t breast fed that this isn’t so, but I just feel like my body is letting my down - my breasts have failed me!

Call me Moo!

Dylan woke four times last night, Im knackered. I only expressed twice, after the 12.30 feed and the 5.40 feed. He seemed to feed for longer periods at the 2am and 3.40am feed – in fact I think for the 2am feed he fed for about 15 mins, longer than he has done for ages. Does this mean he was just hungry or was he responding to the expressing?

Spent the day basically doing a cow impersonation! I really feel tied to the breast pump and I have to say that it’s not showing any positive results, still only expressing a ½ ounce each time.

Celebrating and Expressing

So this is my plan for the weekend. With Keefe away in London and Mum and Dad over in Cumbria its just me and Dylan, so Im going to feed him on demand and express every three hours. I’ve done loads of reading on the Internet and its “suggested” that this is the way to increase my milk supply.

Annette, Orla, Ruth and Josh joined me and we had cake and champagne (one glass only please we are breast feeding mommies) to celebrate Ruth’s birthday. Its lovely seeing the girls and Dylan always seems to enjoy the companies of the other babies.




Orla and Dylan

I fed Dylan as and when he needed it, but he generally didn’t want to feed that much from me through the day. Although that said, he loved the beef stew I made last night. Ruth was also feeding Josh so we got some yummy pics.


Josh and some carrots

It was totally fantastic to be able to bathe Dylan tonight; we both got naked and splashed in the bath for ages.



Dylan giggled his way through the evening, I read to him and we lay on the floor playing.

I started the evening out how I meant to progress I fed Dylan at 7pm ( he usually gets an expressed bottle) and then expressed right afterwards – emptying out each breast. But even with the additional feed and expressing the 10pm expressing yielded no more than another ½ an ounce. Having had such a good “yield” of milk prior to working this is so disheartening but Im hoping that all this extra expressing will boost the supply.

Reverse Cycling - Something new to deal with!

Definitely think something is going wrong with my milk. Dylan has been waking most nights now three, if not four times, demanding to be fed. It's not even as if he is feeding for a long time. Generally about 6 mins but he will not be settled with anything but a feed.

I had a chat with my Health visitor and she suggested Dylan might be reverse cycling, stopping his intake of fluid through the day and feeding at night. It's a comfort based thing ~ he misses his mommie!!!



I've never heard of this before, but its a bit of a relief. I thought this was it for me and breast feeding. Although its been hard it has created such a fantastic bonding between me and the little man.

I would never judge anyone for not breast feeding but Im so glad Ive managed to keep on with it. Times gone by I've hated my breasts but this was what they were meant for and Im really proud of myself to have stuck with it this long.


Does that sound conceited? I hope not!

Milk Drying Up?

Arghhh – just not sure what the hell is happening. I’ve been expressing at work and its not been particularly easy, I don’t feel comfortable doing it but I’ve managed to get quite a good yield up till now. I haven’t been expressing as regularly as I probably should and this is now the second day that Ive noticed my milk has dropped from about three or four ounces each session to an ounce or two.

Its not really a problem – I don’t think - but Im going to keep an eye on it. Im a bit worried that with Dylan not feeding as often and me not expressing as often as I should my milk could be drying up!

Keeping Busy

Dylan spent the day with Keefe so I felt the need to fill my day with something productive and look what I did.



I built this Merchants Chest all by myself. I cannot begin to tell you how proud of my little self I am.

Keefe had to shave a bit off each end to get it to fit in the alcove. He also reminded me that I could have avoided the tired arms because I had an electric screwdriver in the cupboard – I like to think of it as time earned pain!

Life changes.

What a month. I've made some fairly serious life changes over the last 3 weeks, hence my absence from all things blogging. It's been a hard 3 weeks, especially with Dylan teething, rolling, commando crawling and generally just growing, its been a variable hotbed of emotions and small successes.

I'm feeling very positive.

So what's changed?

Well firstly I had a wonderful three weeks at Annette and Tom's. I got used to the cavanous proportions of a house after living in my little static caravan. I also got used to living on my own.

During this three weeks Dylan became the worlds best forward and backward roller, he crawled his first crawl, much to mine and K's delights. After doing a full crawl he then discovered if he lay on the hard wood flooring and just pulled himself along - commando style - he could move fast and silently and he has now become the scourge of pussy cats and all things four legged.

He has also cut two teeth, which means lots of sleepless nights, but we now have a gummy smile with two little bittypegs sticking out. He is still cutting more and his little face has swollen each time, giving him hamster like proportions. He has all the usual signs, red cheeks, baby dribble and fists clamped into his mouth sucking for dear life. Night times have not been good and I'm reaching zombie like levels of existence. But - there is always a but - the little man, even with cheeks swollen and sore still smiles and giggles like the mad fiend he is.

Since our decision to separate K has been coming to the house each night to bathe Dylan, which has been nice, but means I've run around "getting things for him". This has lead to me being even more anal in my organisation. Each night before going to bed I have to check that Dylan's bag is ready for mum, that there is a nappy, wrap, booster, towel and sleep suit in the bath room for his bath ready for K. I have to check that my expressing machine after using it is steralised and put in my work bag accompanied by two bottles for the expressed milk.

Its like some bizarre military fiasco and if one step is not followed the whole routine falls into chaos and I'm left sitting on the stairs weeping at my inability to do anything.

Okay - it only happened once, but it happened.

All in all Annette and Toms was great. I burnt dinner twice because I wasn't used to the space and couldn't smell the chicken moulding itself to the dish in a blackened lump. My cleaning anality lifted its ugly head above the parapets and I, even though I promised I wouldn't, ended up climbing on furniture and poorly balanced chairs on tables to clean daddo rails and light fittings. But - there it is again - I wound in my neck and talked myself out of doing the windows and re-organising Toms CD collection into alphabetical order.

I purchased (via a mortgage from Hell) and moved into my own house on the 20th of September. Its an old ex council house, 3 bedrooms with a lovely wee garden.

I took the last of my savings and visited "Ar-gus" purchasing all the necessities of life: curtain poles, pots and pans, 4 x knives, forks and spoons, 4 x plates and cups, a dish drainer, cooking utensils, shower curtains, toilet seats and copious other bits and pieces which make a house a home.

It needs a lot of work - LOTS OF CLEANING - and lots of decorating but it has potential and even after the gas/electric fiasco, outer doors that do not lock and missing toilet seats (Now replaced thanks to the bible I call Ar-gus) I feel empowered and stronger than I have for some time.

I've also started a child minder course. I'm not sure if I'm going to follow through with it, but the course is free and its just something I was thinking about doing to allow me to spend more time with Dylan. I want to be there to see him take his first steps, to hear his first proper words and know that I have given him the best of me.

I know that working won't mean I am a bad mommie. I accept that working is sadly one of life's realities and now that K and I have split up even more of a necessity but what I wouldn't give for someone to wave a magic wand and say "You can financially afford to spend the next four/five years at home". But its not going to happen and I have to find alternative ways of making sure Dylan and I have the type of life I want for us.

I guess its all about life choices. I'm choosing to work less hours to stay at home more with Dylan, which means we wont be able to afford some of the luxuries I took for granted. Broadband, Sky TV, flying off and visiting friends but we will have plenty of time to walk along the beach, play in the garden and just spend time with each other.

And finally - after our big "fight" I needed to replace my glasses so I've been and got meself some trendy Wireless specs (this was my last luxury purchase). I'm also going to get myself a hair cut as I've not had one for over 7 months - is this the beginning of the new me? Who knows? I just know that right now, at this present moment in time things feel positive and good.

They are hard and sometimes when I'm rattaling round the house like the proverbial pea in a tin can it feels lonely, but - third and final one - it feels right!

5 years ago

This time five years ago I was surrounded by friends and family celebrating the union of K and myself.

We thought we were a forever couple, we promised to respect each other, to talk and laugh together, to make each day special, to share our thoughts, hopes and dreams.

I hope when we have resolved our differences I will be able to say I love him still, but today it was hard.

Firstly because he sent me a card - it was a lovely card but it made me cry great big snot filled gasping cries.

Then when I was doing my first real shop I stood in front of the toilet rolls in Morrisons and cried some more. Why? Because I didn't know what toilet rolls we brought!!!

Love was not enough for us,
Though we were much in love.
We started down the well-worn path,
But it was not to be.
Delight was not enough for us,
Nor tenderness that moved
Through years of angry dissonance
Towards some dark, bitter sea.

Our differences were far too great,
Our lives too far apart.
We didn't like each other much,
But put that truth aside

Until one day it was too late
To reignite the heart.
One told the other, who agreed
At last that it had died.

But then, ah, then! we felt our loss
As unremitting pain,
As deep and inconsolable,
Unbearable regret.

And all alone we had to cross
That desert once again
That we might know that we had loved
Too much to soon forget.
By Nicholas Gordon