Jumperoo woohoooo!

I succumbed. I swore I'd never spend this much on a toy. £80 (and that's with a discount as John Lewis were price matching someone). But then I remembered I had a £40 Brent Cross voucher given to us by a very generous friend of the family.

I made the decision after spending a few afternoons with Evie, playing and generally larking about being BFF's (natch). We have a lovely pink Next play mat that was a gift and it's lovely and comfortable and has served it's purpose well. But she's bored of it. It doesn't stimulate her as much as it needs to. Although she can reach out and hit and kick the toys, she really wants to grab them, ultimately so she can put them in her mouth. We've tried propping her up on pillows so they're closer and all sorts. It eventually became clear that she needs something a little more interactive.

Introducing a flashy piece of kit if I ever saw one-

This doesn't really give you an accurate idea of the size. However, we live in a one bed flat and this takes up pretty much most of the space between our 2 sofas.

This is a video of Evie having a right old bounce on only her second ever go. The best part is near the end when she sees my bowl of cereal and thinks it's for her. Heart warming stuff. And noisy too!

She started off only focusing on the front with the flashing lights. Daddy then spent half an hour showing her the spinning crocodile that is behind her. She showed no interest in it whatsoever. Until the next day! She bounced away playing with the front, stopped, turned round and span it. Not prompted by anyone. Proud Mummy! It's been worth every penny so far. Next I just have to invest in some ear plugs!

Katy x

Evie's Second Photo Shoot

Once again, the lovely ladies at Cocoon Photography have made me cry. Big wet tears. But in a good way!

I thought it couldn't get any better than the  first shoot we had at 9 days old. Then I saw these.

Taken in mid January, Evie was about 3 months old. A totally different baby to the one in October. Full of character and a LOT more vocal if she was put into a position she didn't like. And that includes Tummy Time ;)

I've put a selection of the photos up. Not all of them as there are a lot.

If these are any Mums out there who haven't yet had their baby photographed, I urge you to do it. For as many photos as I have of Evie that I've snapped myself, none of then compare at all to these.

We just sat her in the corner. She put her arm up herself!

Outfit change!

Headband made by my friends Mum. Genius that she is.

She also made this hat.

I love the sneaky little chubby foot at the bottom :)

Dribble mouth! I'm so glad we have a dribbly picture because it's an accurate portrayal of her at this age!

They say that photos can emote memories. When I see this, I can hear the sound that she makes when she shoves her whole hand in her mouth. It looks so unladylike but it's how she spends a great deal of time at the moment!

Tummy time never goes down well...

This set of images was taken at the very end when we'd almost wrapped up and were sat down packing everything away. Then the light caught her and it was too good a photo to miss.

My favourite photo of Evie. Ever. (So far!)

If  could blow these photos up and wear them as a sandwich board I would. Thank-you to Kim and Jeanette once again.

Katy xx

Evie- 20 weeks

Evie-liscious is .almost 20 weeks old (or young!). This isn't 5 months. That will be March 18th.

Actually, what age do we stop counting in weeks? I'm guessing that it's around the 6 month mark?

I had a brief discussion about this with a lady who hasn't had kids yet and commented that the 'X weeks old' thing confused her. She has a pregnant friend who is also counting in weeks and I had to explain to her that, in pregnancy, come the 35/36 week mark, pretty much most women start to count in DAYS!

So, Evie. What have we learnt about her in this past month?

• Well she has found her voice. Boy oh boy. It's a loud one! A squealy, dribbly, shouty one. But I love it. 
• At her last weigh in she was 17lb 7.5 oz. This is pretty big. She's now just under the 98th %.
• Our Baby Signing Classes have come along leaps and bounds. When I say leaps and bounds, she's not aaaaactually communicating with me as yet, but I think she's grasped the 'splash' sign when she's in the bath. She splashes on cue rather than whenever she feels like it. 
• She's started to really grab things. Rattles on her play mat, her Sophie the Giraffe, my skin! There is a little baby dolly that she goes ballistic for and holds out both her arms. 
• There are all sorts of absurd faces being pulled as she discovers that she can suck her lips in and contort them as she blows raspberries.
• Thanks to Aunty Rebecca, she has learnt the power of accessorising.

• Bedtimes have got easier. She enjoys her bath and certainly knows that after bath time it is booby and then bed. The power of routine and repetitive actions. She's falling asleep after feeding from both sides, I then let her slip into a deeper sleep on my lap before placing her into her cot. The other night she made my heart explode by blowing a perfect raspberry in her sleep just before I left the room. :)
• We acquired a bumbo. Well, 3 to be precise. I bought 2 for a bargain £10 each on eBay, unbeknown to me, my Mum had bought us one as a present. So we have them scattered all over. They are a godsend. Her thighs are a little chunky and we have wedging issues when putting her in and taking her out but she seems unfazed!

I don't just plonk her in front of the telly, honest!

• We have introduced a little half portion of porridge in to her routine. I was so reluctant to do this as I was so fiercely proud of her being EBF (exclusively breastfed). The reasoning behind it was a conversation with a BF peer worker and it was an attempt to fill her up a little more in the day as her night feeds were getting more frequent as opposed to tailing off at all. Has it worked? I'm not convinced. She now occasionally drops one of the feeds but not consistently so I can't pin this down exactly. However I don't let this replace a feed as it doesn't come close to the nutrition and calorific goodness that breast milk does. She bloody loves it though! Those arms and legs shake like crazy when I appear with her bowl and little weaning spoon. This also means that she thinks every bowl is hers. So I feel cruel eating in front of her now. It tugs on the old heartstrings to see her lean in expectantly all open mouthed and wide eyed! I now eat my breakfast behind her, hiding the bowl when she cranes her head 180 degrees to see me!

This is the video of her first taste of porridge. I'd made it too watery so it was a messy affair but I think it's better it wasn't too thick for the first attempt.

• One of the most amazing parts of mummyhood I've found is watching my gorgeous little person learn and develop new skills. These can happen in front of your very eyes but more often than not you'll suddenly realise that she's been doing this all week but you never really see the first time. Except that tonight I saw Evie discover that she can in fact get the feet she's only very recently discovered, into her mouth!
  It was on the changing mat as I was getting her undressed for her bath that all of a sudden, the foot started to clumsily make it's way towards the dribbling, gaping, squawking mouth hole. Her eyes widened in fascination and then before I knew it, the toe was getting a good old suck! Daddy raced over with his phone (iPhone4 trumps iPhone3 camera wise) and we snapped this.

• We are also lucky enough to get regular open mouth wet kisses. She kisses with gusto and I love it!
• There are definite teeth making their way through. It's painful for me to see my little lovely suffering and this is only the beginning. I can feel the 2 bottom teeth moving closer to the surface. there's no guarantee that they're actually close to breaking through though. This process could take months. Her fist sucking has become much more frantic and she whimpers and strains with it, really chomping down hard and grabbing at her gums. I use homoeopathic teething granules and teething gel as often as I'm allowed to try and ease her discomfort. Calpol is only for a high fever, I've only had to use it the once. Awesome stuff though! I did buy her this Mam teether that I refrigerate. She grabs it and chews on it but not the actual cooled get part but the hard ring. Maybe she things it looks suspiciously like a rude mans part too?!

These past few weeks have seen my Evie turn from a baby into a little girl. Her personality is really showing through. She's happy, content and the very joy of my existence. I didn't think it was possible to love her more now than I did when she was born but every day my heart grows more as she fills it. As lame as it sounds I can't help but gush. When she finally starts to talk and says 'Mummy' for the first time, I honestly believe I will spontaneously combust.

Until next time xx

A new phone.

I am one of the millions and trillions of people who own an iPhone. I've been reasonably happy with it for the 2 years I've had it but now it's time to change.

My needs are different now I've got my Evie.

Before she came along, I wanted my phone to have most of the usual features- E-mail, Facebook, a few games and the odd novelty app. I've disliked the keyboard from day 1. Too many mistakes get made too easily.

Now when I look at features, I'm really only interested in 2 things. Camera and Video. I don't want a useless blurry one like the iPhone. No. I'm talking sharp, crisp photos. I want mega pixels to rival an actual camera. I'd forsake all other features for the best camera possible. Well, maybe not my ebay app....but all the rest ;)

Because it seems that I've turned into one of those Mums who tries to document every single movement that the poor child makes. I can't stop myself! She's changing SO quickly and I'm scared I'll forget a tiny morsel. To be fair, I do have people requesting daily and weekly updates so the photos do get a lot of use and I do find myself scrolling through the 370+ photos that I've already taken of her up until now. I love looking at the changes, the difference in her hair from one week to the next. But now she's doing much more. She's making more noises, blowing rasberries, making funny faces. This calls for video!


I've searched and searched and I think I've decided on the Samsung Galaxy (as recommended by my Sister).

Although, if I'm honest, what I really want is this ----------->
with a tiny phone stuck onto it somewhere.

Or, a BBC cameraman to follow us everywhere. Then I'd just use his phone. Problem solved.

Lots of love

Katy x

An incredibly touching breastfeeding article

This is a link to an article written from a babies point if view on breastfeeding. I wish I'd read it at the very start of my bf journey. A teensy bit cheesy in it's style but easily forgivable.

http://theleakyboob.com/2011/08/baby-explains-normal-newborn-behavior/

Let me know what you think?

K x

The Dreamfeed Challenge

I've been hearing from a lot of my Mummy friends that they give their baby a Dreamfeed to help them to get a little bit more sleep. The theory behind it is you 'top up' baby at about 11pm to help them to sleep a little longer, as it's their little tummy being empty that wakes them. The main thing with this is that you don't wake the baby. NEVER WAKE A SLEEPING BABY!

Now I'm exclusively breastfeeding Evie and booby dreamfeeds are a little harder than when using bottles. However, I had 3oz of expressed milk that I had to use up and I was, without wanting to sound dramatic, dying of exhaustion from the previous few nights of barely any sleep.

Now this was new to me. Evie was asleep and I kid you not, I was shaking at the thought of waking her and her not going back to sleep!
:-O

I popped my hand gently under her head and the other under her little bottom and lifted her out of her cot. Problem was, my right hand felt a little damp. Her nappy was huuuuuuuge and a change was very necessary.

So now I had to do a dream feed AND a dream change? The pressure!

Husband fetched the nappy and the wipes. We were doing this on the bed. No way I was going to risk leaving the bedroom! The temperature change along would wake her! All hands on deck.

We worked together like a well oiled machine, I undid the nappy, he wiped with the wetwipe, I slid the new nappy under whist he held her legs. Between the 2 of us she had the fastest nappy change ever. And she stayed asleep :)

So I gathered her sleepy little body up into the crook of my arm and bought the bottle to her mouth. She flinched slightly at first but stayed asleep. I let her take the milk for about a minute at a time and then stopped and let her settle back down because the more she drank, the more she seemed to stir.

It took about 10 minutes to finish the 3 ounces. I'm really conscious of how I feed her the expressed milk, I read an article on respectful bottle feeding which struck a chord with me. For a breastfed baby, a bottle is an entirely different sensation and flow. The baby has to really work for the milk on the boob and a bottle is much easier and can often end up overwhelming the baby. The bottles we use are the Dr Brown and are anti colic so I don't have the stress of winding her afterwards.

So, having made sure that I wasn't literally pouring the milk into her face, she fed and I kept her in my arms for about 10 minutes. Enough to ensure that she went back into her deep sleep, not enough that the settled only in my arms.

Next came the hardest part, I had to get her back into her cot. WITHOUT WAKING HER!

This is the part of the night time routine I struggle with after a normal feed. Evie sleeps next to me in her cot with the side totally down, however, the mattress isn't totally flush with mine, nor is the side of the cot quite low enough. So I can't do the slide across motion I'd like to do. Instead I have to lift her and then lower her down, which almost always stimulates a baby's moro, or startle reflex (when they flay their arms out like a starfish...cute but not when you're trying to be a stealth ninja mumma!).

Eventually she was lowered down, my left hand trapped under her head. I removed it finger by finger, holding my breath the whole time!

My right hand slid out from under her bottom and I gently placed her blanket back on top.

I kid you not, I was sweating. This was the Mummy Skill version of a task on the Crystal Maze!

You'll be pleased to know it was a totally futile task. She ungraciously woke an hour later as hungry as if she'd never been fed. And again 2 hours after that. Repeat for the rest of the day until mummy goes quite literally mad.

Until next time

Katy x

My daughter- The Time Stealer

I think it was my sister who coined the phrase, Time Stealer. It stems from a conversation we had in the car, my sister, aka Auntie Sally was asking when we could go shopping together. Now there's not much I like more than spending quality time with my sis. Luckily we get to hang out quite often

Evie, Stealer of Time.

However, this week, what with all activities I've got planned for Evie, I just cannot fit it in! Because Evie, and I'm sure I can speak for most mums here, actually Steals Time. She turns a ten hour day time stretch into a thoroughly unproductive 45 minutes. At most!

Ironically the nights are another matter she doesn't so much steal time as warp it. The feeds can take an hour but feel like 4. That 2 hour sleep between feeds feels like 5 minutes. It's amazing really, because I'm sure I'd been told many things about the early months of babydom, but no-one really explained this... The accumulation of hours sat on the sofa breastfeeding. Add to that the hours spent expressing milk too, that's a hefty dent left on your sofa. After the feeds there are the cuddles, the change of nappy, sometimes twice in one go. The clothes changes. The sheer prep time needed to leave the house! On top of that, laundry, cleaning the house, eating. Before you know it, the day is almost over and your starting to plan bath time.

I find myself trying to justify the small amount of housework I've done to my husband, I don't need to because he does get it. But I still feel lazy. Which is stupid because I can honestly say, I'm working harder than I ever have.

So what else wasn't I told? Shouldn't there be a true guide to new mummyhood? I think yes! Here are a few gems of information I think it's my duty to pass on.

• "You can sleep when the baby sleeps"

Um, not if she falls asleep in my arms and needs to stay there to get a good sleep. If I do manage to put her down, I need to use this short time to eat/shower/go to the loo/answer emails etc. I can't move because then she wakes. Contrary to popular belief, less sleep in the day does not equal a better sleep at night. At all.

• Babies, when in a deep sleep can stay that way through all sorts of noise. But if Evie isn't in that deep sleep, just the sound of me snapping the clasp shut on my nursing bra wakes her up.

Her loud rumbly farts however do not?!

• There are many baby slings and wraps on the market. The style that are a long strip of material that you wrap intricately around yourself are very popular. They also require a degree in Engineering and fully rotating shoulders to get on.

• Nappies- They are not as simple as they look. There is a huge difference between Dry Max and the others. Put simply, Dry Max keeps it contained, none of the others do. This ties in with the next piece of info I wish I'd known.

• Sometimes it is entirely necessary to cut of a babies vest with scissors.

•  When testing out the prams in the shop, the nice friendly sales assistant effortlessly folds and unfolds the pram all smoothly. Clipping the car seat on and off with out breaking a sweat. In real life this is a different story. Pram Usage is a module covered in the above mentioned Engineering Degree.

• If you are breastfeeding, the midwives and health visitors ensure that you are drinking enough water. Because breastfeeding is thirsty work! What they don't tell you is that, yes, you will be thirsty. But the hunger is another story all together. I think I would be less hungry with a 15 foot tape worm.

• At first, I carefully scanned though all the children's TV channels and decided on the Baby Chanel. It turns out that as it stands at 3 months, Evie will pretty much watch any old tripe. Bless her.

• The creases in a baby's neck gather all sorts of liquid grossness. It is quite impossible to ever get it 100% clean, so stop trying. Evie is never in a good mood with me after I've tried to get right in there. Same goes with armpits. Because it filters down and sits there. Icky. It also gets into ears if they're sick lying down. Then if you feed her lying on her side, her ear will fold shut and get stuck like that... Not forever but for long enough for you to weird out.

• If you're lucky enough to have a big load of clothes that have either been donated or bought for you, you'll most likely have a fair lot in the next size up. It's tempting due to lack of space to store the next size all tidily away in the loft or garage. However, that sleepsuit that fit on the Monday might very well not fit by the Thursday. All of a sudden, little toes get squished up against the end of babygros. Keep the next size up nearby and in easy reach. Alternatively, pyjamas with open toes will give you more time. 

• There are many different cries that all mean different things. Each baby has their own little noises that eventually each Mummy will learn. There's the hungry cry, the windy cry (I hate this one), the 'Jeeez I'm so tired but I can't get myself to sleep without you' cry. The last one is very nasal... There is however another cry that no books seem to warn you of- it's the cuddle cry. Plain and simple, the baby doesn't know what is wrong, there may not actually be anything wrong. Evie sometimes just wants snuggles for no other reason than she's a tiny baby who loves to be held. Why not?

I'm sure there are many more than in my sleep deprived state, I can't remember. I'd love to know some of yours?

Studies have shown...

I believe one doesn't truly know when pregnant, the type of parenting style one will adopt.
I for example have taken myself a little bit by surprise.

For those of you who have known me for a while, you may agree, I'm not known for my patience and tolerance. It's not my worst trait, however, I don't mince my words and sometimes I can be somewhat blunt in my phrasing. Not intentionally to be horrid, I don't like upsetting people. I just don't beat around the bush.

So I fully expected to be the type of parent that was all about rules. A stern Mummy. A tough love Mummy. The Bad cop to the Good cop role that always happens in a parenting partnership.

What actually seems to have happened is that I've become the exact opposite! All the things I swore to myself and my family and friends that I'd do I simply haven't. Don't get me wrong, I've not suddenly turned into a tree hugging hippy. There's no Birkenstocks on these feet. I just found myself being much more.....I think the word is soft :)

My first hint of this radical about turn (that's a bit dramatic but...) occurred when Evie was literally days old and we were both still in hospital. I'd been struggling with the breastfeeding and wasn't producing enough to feed her. She was understandably, rather pissed off with me and would cry A LOT through the night. Her cry would send this pain through me that hit right to my core. Her raspy cry from being so dehydrated totally overwhelmed me and I would have, at that point done absolutely anything to stop it. Not because it annoyed me but because I couldn't bear to have her in distress. The lovely new Mum in the next cubicle, who is now a very good friend came to my rescue one night when it had got particularly bad. Evie had cried almost non stop every night for 3 nights and I'd not slept hardly at all. That on top of the labour and the worry of her being a little bit poorly with the jaundice and the infection caused a slight breakdown! This lovely lady comforted me and pointed out that my reaction to her tears was normal and to be expected. That her cry was designed to penetrate my very being because I'm her Mummy! The cries of other peoples babies can be distressing, it can be heartbreaking and sometimes a little annoying. The cry of ones own baby is a physical pull that ties us together in a very primal way.

So when someone suggested to me that I try CC (controlled crying) or CIO (crying it out) I know that I simply can't, Because I've come to realise that if my baby is crying, it is because she needs me.

Evie can't speak (am I stating the obvious?) so if she's hungry, tired, cold, in pain or just in need of some comfort, the only was she can tell me is to cry. Different cries as I've come to recognise but cries nonetheless. So why would I want to leave her? If my sister was crying in distress after being put to bed all alone, I would never just leave her. So why would I do the same for my precious little baby? Yes, things might have been done differently in your day but that doesn't mean that it is right.

I breastfeed on demand, I snuggle my baby to sleep, I won't wean by baby at 12 or 16 weeks. I don't want to introduce baby rice.

What do people tell me?

• That she's greedy for wanting to be fed 'on demand' (or cue fed which I prefer). I then have to explain her tummy size, that breastmilk is broken down quicker than fomula, that she is having a growth spurt or cluster feeding or just hungry!
• My cuddling her to sleep is creating a 'rod for my own back', that she will become spoilt and won't ever sleep in her own bed. That she'll need to be cuddled to sleep FOREVER! I look forward to my 16 year old daughter asking me for that!
• Milk isn't enough for her. She needs baby rice/pureed food/ rusks etc. Fill her tummy with starchy foods before she's ready so she sleeps through the night. Oh pleeease. Firstly, she is growing just fine on 'only milk'. She certainly doesn't need to have sugary fruits or rice with no flavour. It's booby all the way. For as long as possible. And as fantastic as it would be for 8,7 or even 6 hours sleep, it's not going to happen right now and I'm fine with it.

I won't defend every single parenting decision I make as I know that there are still many obstacles for me to overcome and I can't say which path I'll pootle down. I do know that for now, I'll continue along the path I'm on and do my middle of the night research as usual.

 There is one particular site that I find fascinating and she puts some fantastic links up that I have found invaluable. If you're interested in breast-feeding, co-sleeping and really well researched issues, I implore you to check it out - http://www.analyticalarmadillo.co.uk/

It has armed me with so many facts and reassured me that I'm actually not doing it wrong, I'm just doing it the instinctive way. So when I say 'studies have shown...' you'll know where I got the information from!

Until next time

xxx

My First Baby Activity.

I'd heard about Baby Signing and always had the intention of starting it at 6 weeks, mastering it by 3 months and then having full conversations with my 6 month old over a Babychino in Starbucks. To the envy of all other mums of course!

In reality 6 weeks came and went and I'd absolutely forgotten all about it, my brain instead taken up with other important issues such as Pampers Dry Max v. Pampers Baby Dry (Dry Max wins btw) and being able to finally drive again after the emergency caesarean.

So one afternoon after I'd wheeled us rather clumsily through the heavy door of the Feeding Room at my local Mothercare I spotted the leaflet by the changing area.

'Baby Signing classes with The Best Start Club'

I'd been thinking to myself that day that I need to start doing activities with Evie that don't involve sitting and drinking decaf latte after decaf latte. So this was clearly a sign (groan).

I filed the leaflet away in the zipped compartment of my change bag (which has been reallocated to the collection of such things as leaflets, vouchers, pamphlets, important letters I need to post etc) and forgot about it for a week.

When I decided to clear out the massive wad of crap I'd stuffed in there I saw the leaflet and dropped the lady an email. There is a local class in the community centre near me, walking distance in fact and it's every Thursday at 11. It's a 10 week course so I don't expect I'll be having aforementioned conversations with her by the time they're done. Maybe I'll need another 10 ;)

Baby Sign for 'More'.

The first class was 2 days ago and I have to say I did enjoy it. There was a lot more singing involved than I expected (100% more to be precise) and although things like that do set off my cringe reflex, I coped quite well I think!

We covered the basis of Baby Signing and the group leader passed on her experiences of it with her own son. I was excited to hear that in fact I might not have been too far off track with my hopes. Babies can indeed respond to the signs from as little as 5 months and actually sign at about 8 months.

What I want to get from this is to enable Evie to communicate her wants and needs to me to ease frustration. It must be a total pain in the arse to be a baby desperate to be changed out of a wet nappy to have your cries misinterpreted for hunger or wind etc.

All things going to plan, I hope that soon Evie will be able to feel she can be understood by me, her Daddy and my mum and sister who also help to look after her.

We've started off with the basics-
Milk, nappy change, bath, bed etc. The key is consistency and repetition, always ensuring we remember to say the word as well as sign. This might take me a while to get into a habit, especially with her frequency of feeding and the logistics of the nightfeeds.

I also like the fact that its thought to help increase their spoken vocabulary as opposed to hindering it. They say most of the time the baby stops signing the word when he/she can speak it.

So I'll report back after a few weeks, hopefully a little more confident with the signs.

Katy x

12 Weeks

Evie was 12 weeks yesterday. My little pumpkin is starting to resemble a little person and not a newbie. This is so exciting and everyday I notice another trick she's learnt, a different sound or facial expression. This is all part of her growing, developing and learning. A small part of me feels a little pang when I notice how much she is NOT that precious little poppet we met 12 weeks ago. Instead she is a larger, more interesting funner version!

So what have we learnt about 12 week old Evie?

• She is a total telly bug. I am aware that she has no clue of the actual content. It's the movement, the colour and the sound. But I love that I have a little companion to watch charmed with and my other poor choices of TV. So much so that recently when winding her, her head craned round almost 180 degrees to still look at the telly. My little owl :)

•  Not only is it the TV that catches her eye, Evie is also a budding web surfer, She likes to sit on Daddy's lap and dribble over the keyboard.

"this broadband's a bit slow Mum!"

• We still have sleeve issues. At first I thought it was being too hot or too cold that she complained about when getting dressed and undressed but I've narrowed it down to the sleeves. She really hates having her arms put through her vests, babygros, t-shirts and especially this jacket. See below for unimpressed post traumatic sleeve disorder face.

• We had Evie's first Christmas. This is built up into such a massive hype for new babies and their families. Every store has Christmas outfits and hats with '1st Xmas!' emblazoned all over. Now I'm not a misery guts, I promise, but I had to request that people weren't too generous with Evie and presents. How ungrateful am I?! Hear me out. We live in a tiny 1 bed flat. After she was born and the congratulations gifts flooded in, for a while it looked like mothercare threw up in my bedroom. Plus, to Evie, every day is Christmas. Or it might as well be. So our friends and family kept on top of their fantastic generosity and contained the urge to spoil her rotten. We received a few select lovely gifts that she'll get good use out of and appreciate.  Including this babies baby that has been strategically placed into her arms. It's different textures and has different noises when you squeeze it. Currently it's purely another prop to mop up the dribble.

• Ah. The dribble. This is a recent addition to her repertoire. Massive amounts of dribble 24/7. I mop it up, it reappears instantly. Is it teething? It certainly seems that it could be as it's combined with lots of chewing on her first and fingers. My HV however seems to think it's not and explained that the fingers in the mouth thing is exploratory and also a bit self soothing. In fact, when the thumb does make it in she does give a sigh and give it a suck for a minute or so. The other day, the thumb made it in but the index finger was unfortunately popped up the nose. Comfort and discomfort all in one. So we are now reliant on bibs. I'd rather change 5 bibs a day than 5 tops. And 5 is a good day!

• Hair. We have hair! Evie was born with a fair amount of hair, well enough to give adequate scalp coverage.... Then I bought her home and gave her a bath. One swipe of the sponge over the top of her head removed a great lump of it in one go. I cried. Don't judge me. I know it's perfectly normal. But I really didn't want my baby girl looking like Sven Goran Erikkson. These last few weeks though we have had regrowth. Lots of regrowth! Lovely soft, fluffy hair to cover her little noggin.

• We've gone into a big girls cot. Right next to my side of the bed with the side down. This is so much easier for me to feed her in the night. It also means that she can see me if she needs reassurance that I'm there. It also means that when she wakes up for her 1, 3 and 5am feeds (!!) I am greeted with the hugest smile and more recently, a very piercing excited squeal! Super cute and makes the night feeds much more bearable.

• We've also learnt that the over the cot mobile doesn't work when it comes to calming her down and sending her to sleep. Oh no no no no no. What's the exact opposite of that? Crazy excitement. She stares and coos and does the crazy robot dance when you turn it on. If it's not on, she simply stares at it, does the robot dance, stares at me, does the robot dance until I turn it on. Not what works for just before bedtime!

• Bedtime is a totally different blog post. I'm not ashamed to say, I've not quite got that down to a tee yet. Partly I think I haven't got the right combination of feeds and timings right yet, also though there have been so many differing factors. Going from Moses basket to cot. Staying over at my Mums in her pram bassinet. Spending a week up in Darlington in totally alien environments. Growth spurts. Vaccinations etc. All these can confuse and upset a baby. I might write a bed time conundrum post separately,

• Evie has reached a whole stone in weight. Yep. 14lb 1.5oz at last weigh in. That's a nice solid, sturdy weight. She outgrew her 0-3 month clothes about 3-4 weeks ago. There were 3 babygros that fitted her on when we arrived in Darlington and didn't when we left a week later. It almost seems like Evie has been having a growth spurt for 2-3 weeks. It can't be. I think she's just got a healthy appetite. And all on my breast milk which I'm so happy about. If the day feeds could become a little more regular and the night feeds not so much, I'd be even happier!

What have Evie and I got planned over the next few weeks then? Well we have the 2nd set of jabs on Tuesday. This time I'm being brave and taking her. Last time Daddy came and I sobbed in the next room. I'm starting Baby signing classes next Thursday which I'm super excited about. I'm hoping to give Evie the tools to communicate her needs to me before she can talk.
I'm hoping to start Buggy-cise. Basically its exercising with your buggy in the park. We'll see about that. I can't run in these nursing bras so I'm not sure how much good it'll do me.
We have another shoot booked in for the 26th with the Cocoon photography ladies. I can't wait to see how she'll look in these photos. The last ones were so amazing.

Until then

Dribbly kisses xx

Group Hug

Evie is just over 8 weeks old and the past few weeks have really shown me the importance of friends. Or more importantly, 'mummy friends'.

Let me take you back a few years to 2007. I decided that I wanted to buy a flat. I couldn't afford to live near my friends and family so I took the leap and moved, all on my tod, to a completely different town, about 30 miles north of my home. At this time I travelled with my job and was away from home 3-4 nights each week. My original group of friends were all still based in North London and even though we didn't see each other weekly, we were still close and through the wonders of facebook etc they never felt far away.

Maybe it's because I've got such a solid group of friends that I love dearly that I've not really tried to make friends where I live now? I think that is the case. I've also had these friends since I was 11. It felt so much harder to make friends at this age than it did back then. So for the past 4 and a half years, the only other person I've known where I live is my husband.

And then I fell pregnant. All of a sudden, I had a powerful need to discuss my pregnancy with others. I needed to share my cravings, my body malfunctions, my emotional breakdowns! I was reluctant to go to NCT classes, I'm not sure why. Logistically it was tricky anyway due to mine and my husbands work loads but I'm sure, had I really tried, we could've made it work.

So I turned to the computer. From one forum to another, I started to drum up conversations. This led to a facebook group being set up with 100+ amazing ladies who have been with me through every step of the way. I even dictated my 'In Labour' post to my husband in between contractions, such is the bond. Through that, I met a lovely lass who lives a stones throw from me and we started going to Aqua-natal classes together. Now, even if we don't see each other regularly, it's nice to know that I have a friend nearby.

Through the aqua-natal facebook group, I started attending a monthly Mummy meet-up. This was the chance to meet, breastfeed with no embarassment and have tea and cakes with other mums and still pregnant mums to be.

A smaller group of us then branched off to meet on a weekly basis in a local Starbucks where we clog up the whole place with our huge buggies and take up tables for hours whilst eeking out this one Large Hot Chocolate with Extra cream. I also invite along a lady who I met in hospital in the adjacent cubicle. Her baby girl was born 1 day after Evie and we took it in turns to comfort each other over various hormonal breakdowns. We have onded so much that I'm pretty sure I'll be in touch with her for life. If not forever, then for many years to come.

The moral of this blog post is that I've learnt, no matter how close your group of friends, when you have a baby, you NEED to have mummy friends. I'm lucky, I have 130 through my facebook group and 5 locally who I meet up with regularly. My home town friends are fabulous with Evie and listen to my woes with no judgement or boredom (that they show!). However, there is a deep rooted need to be with people who are going through the same utter, gut wrenching exhaustion and hormone battering mood swings as you are. The camaraderie that comes from the sheer overwhelming responsibility of keeping your child healthy and getting through day to day is paramount to Good Mental Health.

I raise my glass to my good friends. Even though it has no alcohol in it, I toast you all.

Katy x

My Change Bag

I've never been a designer handbag kind of girl. I do however appreciate the virtues of a good bag. I tend to keep a bag and use it for at least 6 months and then switch it seasonally. Someone however informed me that, once le bebe arrives, your handbag gets relegated in favour of your change bag. Because you wouldn't want to carry both would you? Well to be honest, I'd not realised that!

So I put a lot of thought into the change bag I wanted and did hours and hours of research. I traipsed round shop after shop both on the high street and online. Then I had a client come to mine and I loved her bag and copied it! Simple as that.

The design of the bag is a little 'out there'. I really fancied something different. Which I think this definitely is. My pram is mainly black and dark grey so it wasn't hard to find something that matched or coordinated.

The Anorak Kissing Stag Change Bag is the only style they do, do check out the other items they have as well as the other designs other than the stags.

It's quite a big bag but that's good. The sheer volume of necessaties that are needed on a daily basis astounds me every time I leave my house.

I carry with me-

• Nappies, at least 5 depending on length of time away from home
• Wet Wipes (Huggies Pure)
• Nappy Bags
• Spare Outfit X 2 (this was increased from 1 after a particularly explosive afternoon)
• Sudocrem
• Mini Dettol Spray
• Hand Sanitizer
• Vaseline Lip Balm X 2 (Aloe Vera for me, original for Evie)
• Breast Pads
• Cereal Bars of at least 2 different varieties. (This is because I was told that breastfeeding takes up lots of calories and energy and now I'm petrified of starving to death...)
• 1/2 cartons formula, just in case my boobs break
• 1/2 Dr Browns bottles (see above)
• Medela Swing Electric Pump (if I'm staying away from home).

The change mat is reasonably large and double sided. My logic tells me to use the shinier side due to it being wipe clean. Whether that's right or wrong I do not know.

There are 2 end pockets. One holds a small bottle, the other holds my iphone. The internal pockets hold all the little bottles and tubs. The zipped compartment holds my Red Book if I'm seeing the HV or doctor.

My wallet also gets shoved in along with sunglasses. What has been pushed to the wayside is my make-up bag. I no longer have the time or desire to touch up my lipstick after lunch. A total about turn for me. A sure sign that my daughter totally over-rules my needs with her own. And I'm so happy that she does.

Katy x

Evie's First Photo Shoot - Video Montage

I'm very lucky that in my line of work I get to know lots of creative genius'. This is the case with the lovely ladies at Cocoon Photography who have also gone on to become very good friends.


They did our Bump Shoot and I was thrilled when they offered to do our shoot for Evie.


The key to your first baby shot is to have it done before they're 10 days old. This is because babies faces change so quickly and under 10 days they still have that curled up look that is so cute.


Our shoot was held at my mums house and my mum herself made a guest appearance in some shots taken at the end. Evie posed like a professional model and did me very proud. She actually smouldered into the camera.

I sobbed like a deranged woman when i first saw this. I hope you enjoy it too.


This Video montage is a selection of some of their favourite shots.

Katy x

5 weeks (and a bit) old

We've  passed the one month mark! Hallelujah! This means one thing.... I can use Gripe water :)


Of course that's not the most important thing, but it comes pretty close.


Since the last post, lots has happened- (in no particular order...)

• Evie was registered so is now officially Evie Rebecca Angelidi
• We had our first family photo shoot with the lovely ladies at Cocoon Photography (I'll post a link to the video in a separate post).
• We ventured into size 2 newborn nappies, had explosive leakage so have slunk back into size 1's again.
• Evie and Mummy went out with friends for our first Sunday lunch outing. I had lamb, she had booby.
• The moses basket all of a sudden became too small, as did her newborn sleepsuits and baby grows.
• She set her standards for bath time. Small baby bath? No. Being in big bath on her big teddy sponge? Acceptable. Bathing with Mummy or Daddy? Yes please very much, just keep me immersed and don't dally with that towel when you lift me out.  
• The miracle that is cooled boiled water worked its magic on Evie after a bad bout of screamy tummy ache.
• I got my first ever Happy Birthday Mummy card and I'll treasure it forever. 
• Breastfeeding has become second nature for both of us.
• I've learnt all the words to Christina Perri's Jar of Hearts and sing her to sleep with it
• My electricity bill will triple due to the vast amount of laundry she creates on a daily basis. I might have to ask husband to wear his clothes 2 days in a row to offset it....
• Peoples generosity has astounded me. Out of the woodwork have come old friends and distant relatives all wanting to shower Evie with gifts. It's so touching.
• We discovered that if we do give Evie a bottle we have to religiously wind throughout the feed. Waiting until the end is not an option.
• Sometimes for Evie, night is day and vice versa. Not all the time. This is her prerogative though.
• Vomit can appear out of no-where and travel a fair few metres.
• When changing her nappy, if she sneezes with no nappy on, something very undignified happens. Stand back.
• Those little harmless looking fingernails are actually lethal weapons in the form of tiny wolverine blades that can scratch the crap out of you.

She has grown into a gorgeous little baby and brings me massive JOY every day. Each sleepless night and emotional breakdown (induced by aforementioned sleepless nights) is worth it.


In addition to the above points, this morning, I got a tiny giggle! I'll wait until she's better at them and get a video up asap.


In the meantime, here are a few token pictures :)

There's a little ditty that my mum used to sing to me when I was younger that sums up exactly how I feel -

'I love you up to the ceiling, down to the floor, all round the world and a little bit more'.

Until next time ;)

My Birth Story - Recovery

Due to my infection, Evie was at risk too, so they'd warned me that she'd have to be whisked off to the SBCU to be given her anti-biotics almost straight after birth. So after I'd had my precious skin to skin 2 minutes, she was bundled up and taken off in my husbands strong arms to the unit.

I was, they informed me, being 'finished off' before being sewn up. Bloody hell, I did not need to hear that!

The feeling of what was happening was very similar to that of when they were pummelling me to get her out. It turns out this was them trying to remove the placenta. True to form and inkeeping with the rest of my complicated labour, my placenta was detaching inefficiantly, ie. it was coming away in chunks,so they were having to use extra force. Quite frankly, this doesn't surprise me.

After what seemed like hours but was I expect only 20 or so minutes, I was wheeled out to the recovery room to wait for Evie and Paul to come back. This was really hard.   was sat there, post labour and operation without my baby. It sounds so dramatic I know but to go through all that and for that long to not have her in my arms was torture. The nurse who was on duty to look after me must've thought I was a bit mad. I lost track of the times I'd asked her where she was. To be fair, and I'll use this as an excuse a lot for the rest of this post, I was still very drugged!

I think about a further 30 minutes had passed with me sat in the recovery room when they bought me in the famous tea and toast that I'd heard about. Legend has it that this meal after birth is the best tea and toast you'll ever have. Now, I have to be honest, I was famished. And had I been able to actually REACH the tray, I would probably agree! This seems to happen a lot, things being placed out of reach. Baby, tea, medication....

I did eventually get to eat and drink as Paul came out not long after that with my little bundle of joy all wrapped up. He handed her straight to me and even as I type this now, I was overwhelmed with the strength of pure love I felt for her! Just incredible. I've never known anything like it.

We snuggled up and I eventually had this epic cup of tea and cold toast (which is actually how I like my toast) and Paul and I just poured over every little detail of her in amazement. He'd been incredible and stayed with her whilst she had a horrid IV needle placed in her hand and her first antibiotic course. They were concerned that my infection had spread to her so for the next 4 days she was wheeled down to the SBCU to have more antibiotics. Paul, very aware of how important it was to get her out to me so we could have more skin to skin and feed, hurried the doctors up and somehow managed to get the time it would have taken cut down from an hour to half that. I'm so grateful for that, he knew I'd be going stir crazy without her.

So we sat for the first time as a family, calling all our mums and dads and siblings. All the while, my poor mum was hovering outside the door of the unit, unable to come in and with no reception to receive phonecalls. The last call she'd had was from Paul hurriedly telling her I'd gone down for an emergency c-section. Her stress levels must have been through the roof! I finally got through to her and reassured her that we were OK. The emotion in my mums voice was obvious and I realised then, holding my preciosu daughter in my arms, how hard it must have been for my mum to watch me be in so much pain.

By the time I'd been wheeled up to the ward it was Quiet Time which meant that all visitors had to leave for 2 hours giving Mums and babies time to rest. So I had Evie all to myself and it was time to have a feed! Having never breast fed before, this was totally alien to me. I latched her on as best I could and she went for it like a crazy little chimp! It turned out that it wasn't a very good latch and that first bad feed caused me problems for the following 4 days. I won't go into the varying nuggetts of advice I was given by each midwife/nursing nurse/passing stranger because that's a whole different blog post. All I will say is that it's taken me almost 4 weeks to really find MY way, or should I say OUR way. Evie hadn't read any books prior to being born so we both had to learn. Breastfeeding is bloody hard work but so important to me so I'm glad I persevered.

Eventually my Mum was allowed in to see me and I handed her grand daughter to her, so excited to see her face. Aw, it was a picture. I think my Mum nearly burst with love. I was still pretty wasted from the drugs :) I filled her in on the events leading up to the c-section and we all just sat there kind of in shock at the pure drama of the last 48 hours!

After 3 visitors were allowed again. My Dad and my sister were in at 3.01. There are not really any words to describe how it was introducing her to them. The pictures tell it better than I ever could.

After everyone had gone it was just me, Paul and Evie.The end of a really long journey, both the pregnancy and the labour! Visitors were allowed to stay until 7 but at 5 Paul asked if I'd mind if he took off as he was pooped. I too was shattered! What I should have done at this point was rest but instead I stared at my little girl until my eyes started to cross.

My first night wasn't particularly nice- I mentioned before about things being placed out of reach. This was mostly an issue with regards to the cot. Especially with the caesarean and the remnants of the epidural plus a catheter, I simply couldn't reach her. When the midwife did arrive to place her on my lap I then couldn't reach the bag with all the nappies in to change her. I'm simplifying this and I'm not sure whether I'll actually write it up or not but it wasn't the kind of care I expected to get on the first night after such a traumatic birth.

So for now I'll leave it at this...

Until next time x



My Birth Story

I was 40+4 when I had sweep numero uno. My dreams of going into spontaneous labour as I left the doctors didn't happen but that night, I thought it did! I had 3 hours of very mild contractions about 10-12 minutes apart from 2am. Having read everyone elses stories and advice on my facebook support group, I didn't panic, I simply stayed in bed. They'd totally tailed off and I brushed it off and drifted back to sleep.

Friday passed with nothing significant happening but I wasn't concerned, I was having another sweep on Saturday. This sweep was a little more encouraging - I was nice and thin (my cervix was at least) and approx 1-2cm dilated. OK, mot a huge amount but I'd started to doubt it even had an exit!

The mild contractions started again that afternoon and came and went without much gusto. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that I really started to contract and realised that this was, if not 'it', then closer to 'it' than I'd been before.

I hadn't felt as many movements as I'd liked so I called up the delivery suite and told them I was having mild contractions and would they mind checking me out? They invited me in and thankfully, all was fine. They advised me to labour at home and come back later, which I was happy to do. In fact, we went for a fry up ;)

About 4 hours later at 4pm, I was contracting at between 10-12 minutes apart and really starting to feel the intensity rise so I popped on my TENS machine and tried to ride the waves dude! I found my most comfortable position was hanging over the edge of the sofa with my bum sticking up like a cat on heat. All of a sudden they started to come along every 7 minutes and then quickly to every 5. So with my TENS machine jacked up to 250 I popped off to the hospital with my husband and my mum.

My contractions were now every 4-5 minutes and nice and strong, I had an internal exam and guess what? 2-3 cm's. Are you kidding me? I was in SO much pain but they packed me off home with paracetamol and codeine.

I got home and laid on the bed, completely stoned from the codeine.I put my natal hypnotherapy breathing to use and do believe that it helped to keep me calm.
It was 1am and clearly this wasn't going to be quick so I sent my mum home again. My contractions stayed at 5 minutes apart and I tried to rely on the TENS machine and my breathing. I'm not sure whether the codeine actually helped with the pain or more helped me to rest in between and keep my energy up. Every half an hour or so I'd beg my husband to let me go back to the hospital but he kept saying No. He was convinced they'd not help me as I hadn't progressed enough. Finally at 6am, getting desperate, I called my Mum to come back to take me in.

Husband decided to have a couple of hours more in bed which I was fine with as I was quite convinced I'd still be hours. The drive to the hospital was excruciating. Me bent over on all fours on my mums back seat of her tiny car, grunting like a warthog. Why do they put SO many speed bumps on the entrance to a hospital? Every single one felt like a hot poker to my cervix.

We got almost into the front entrance to the maternity ward when I had a big mama of a contraction and had to hang off the cart of the dustbin man. Class.  A passing maternity nurse scooped me up and got me into a room where I got given some G&A and was finally told I was allowed to stay and labour there, which is exactly what I wanted. My flat is tiny and I felt so claustrophobic being there in labour. I didn't want to have the memory of the pain in my bedroom if that makes sense?

The Lister hospital where I was had only just completed their brand spankers new state of the art Midwife led Low risk birthing unit. It was due to open the following morning but I was asked if I'd like to move up to there as I was apparently a nice low risk case and they were pretty sure I'd be delivering soon and wanted to get me in the birthing pool.

So up we went, meeting hub on the way who was nice and refreshed after his sleep, I on the other hand was starting to feel like the inside of an arsehole by now. Until I got in the pool. Luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuush!

SO there I was, floating around with my gas and air, happily contracting every 3-4 minutes, having my picture taken by the head of the department as I was going to be the first lady to have her baby on this unit.

Things started to pick up rapidly and soon enough my contractions were almost back to back and I was on all fours and the pressure I felt was unbelievable! My mum and husband were sat by the edge of the pool and the midwives were all excited and I could hear them in the back of the room preparing things for the birth. About 15 minutes of me mooing and shaking, they were encouraging me that it wouldn't be too much longer and how well I was doing etc...

A mirror was placed under the water to see if they could see the baby crowning yet. it was really hard to ignore the body language of the staff there and I could tell by their faces they were shocked. There was no bubba there?! I was taken out of the pool and given another exam. After all that, with the frequency and intensity of my contractions, I was still only 2-3cm. I was totally and utterly heartbroken. 10 minutes after that my contractions tailed off. I think it was a mixture of the shock, exhaustion that made them stop. They then suggested I go home again.

I begged them not to make me go home, I'd suddenly become really afraid of labouring in my flat. Not giving birth there, just being in pain in my home. They could see how scared I was so they let me stay and even talked about arranging for my Mum and Paul to have a sleep somewhere (it seems that everyone slept but me!?).

I was bloody determined to have this baby that day so I slept for an hour and then got myself on that ball and bounced. I paced the corridors and scaled flights and flights of stairs 2 at a time. All of a sudden, they picked up again.

Bam- within half an hour I was back to every 4 minutes. So my obs were taken and it was here that things changed dramatically. My temperature was up, a lot. My pulse rate was 120 and they weren't happy with my blood pressure. I was now no longer low risk and had to be sent back down to the consultant led department. My water birth hopes were slowly disappearing.

To be honest, by this time, I didn't care whether I was in water or not, nor did I care to go much longer without some serious druggage!

Downstairs I was strapped to the monitor and made to lie on my back which made the pain of the contractions SO MUCH WORSE! Why do they make so many people lay like that?!!

I was begging for more pain relief by now as the position was making it too hard for me to breath through and my TENS machine may as well have not been there. The pressure of the monitors were also sat right on the areas that hurt in a contraction, but they refused (quite rightly) to take them off. Because of my super high temperature which they figured out to be an infection, they wouldn't give me an epidural. But they needed my contractions to intensify even more as I was now 3 cm's and clearly, ain't no baby gonna squeeze through that!

They wanted to put me onto the Syntocin with no extra meds for 4 hours to 'see how it went'.  4 hours. No extra pain relief. I almost fainted from shock. There was no way I'd have been able to do that. Hats well and truly off to ladies who can, but after the length of time I'd been awake for, I was beaten. Well and truly done. My husband had a full on debate with the obstetrician who insisted that I wasn't in established labour as I hadn't dilated to 5. But that was apparently the only box that I didn't tick. Everything else about my labouring was established, it was just my cervix not playing ball.

In the end they could see the distress it was causing me to be strapped down to the monitor on the syntocin drip with no pain relief and after 1 horrid hour of it they hooked me up to a morphine drip and some fluids, antibiotics and liquid paracetamol IVs to try and rehydrate me and bring my temperature down. The next 3 hours passed by in a blur of contractions, drowsiness and different doctors.

I don't know how I got to this next stage as I was so totally out of it due to the morphine and my temperature but it was decided that I needed to be put onto different pain management as they were going to jack up the Syntocin even higher.  I had yet another IV drip inserted with an analgesic controlled by a button I had to press every time I felt a contraction. Now this PCA shit was strong and I was totally overwhelmed and sleep deprived. I was lying on my side facing the monitor and stupidly watched the screen. This meant I could see every contraction as it was happening and in my baffled state, instead of only pressing it when I could feel it, I pressed it when I could see it. This meant I ploughed through the dose 3 times faster than they allowed time for. The machine bleeped and the midwife explained that it had run out and that I'd reached the maximum dose I could be administered. The one person who could make the decision on the next step in pain relief was busy.

So I was told I'd basically have to do it without. My temperature was burning off morphine and my pulse was too high to risk it. I must have started to panic because machines started to be wheeled in and the next thing I know I'm lying on my back, I've got a team of unfriendly heart docs pegging me up to an ECG machine, some nurse is trying to get something else into my arm and she buggars it up. Queue blood all over everything and a rapidly swelling arm. There must have literally been 7/8 people working on me at once. For the first time, I seriously thought either me or the baby was in big trouble.

They were more concerned with my heart rate and rising temperature than pain relief for me which I understand. At the time I was beside myself with pain, panicking and being totally overwhelmed by the amount of people working over me, all talking to each other in medical terms, I was totally on the edge of meltdown.Thankfully, as soon as the fluids had passed through me they decided that, along with the antibiotics I'd been given, my temperature was under control and I was finally allowed to have an epidural. I never ever thought I'd have one, let alone be begging for one.

The epidural was administered and it was then I really started to have that 'out of body' experience, I felt like I was on One Born Every Minute. The anaesthetist even commented on how well I assumed the position! So that was in and I was given a little button to press to give myself a shot of the good stuff. The weird thing was, after a few contractions, it turns out that although the pain of the contraction was numbed, it was replaced with a shooting pain all through my left bum cheek and leg. The bloody epidural was only sitting on a nerve! Could the anaesthetist come back and adjust it? No. He'd gone home. Marvellous.

Another anaesthetist was called and she wasn't prepared to tweak another persons epidural which is understandable. Except that by this time, I'd had it! I lost control and started to weep!So out that came and in went a second one. Aaaaah, bliss!  For the first time since it all started I was pain free and my gosh it felt great.

The whole atmosphere of the room changed and all talk was on whether the Syntocin had done it's job and they were going to examine me to see how wonderfully dilated I must surely be.... I even got out my make-up bag and applied some make-up to brighten myself up for the post baby photos, all the while marvelling out loud at how the monitor said I was contracting but i couldn't feel it! To be fair, I was very, very drugged...

Yet another doctor came along and delved into my nether regions. At this point I was so excited, I was going to give birth to my baby. All be it not in the way I'd always wanted but I was going to deliver my baby and I was buzzing!

Except that having extracted her gloved hand she looked at me with that pitying look that they give you. I was a grand total of 5cm dilated.

I clumsily leaned over on my side, as much as I could to have a little cry to myself and all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of the doctors face. She was looking at the monitor and asked me to move back onto my back, and quickly. I did and her expression changed again. It turns out that when I leaned the first time, my poor baby's heartbeat had plummeted dangerously low. On moving back, it had risen again and then spiked. So now my options have been taken away and the decision has been made, it was emergency c section, like it or not.

Right at this moment, I was so scared for my baby, if they'd have told me that they'd have to reach down my throat to pull the baby out I'd have ripped my jaw off to help them.

In all the manic comings and goings of the surgeons and consultants, I slowly went into shock. My mum had gone home for a sleep, my husband was there holding my hand and comforting me. I can honestly say, I don't remember a single word anyone said to me.

I apologise for the lack of timeline from now on but I cannot recall it accurately, so the order of it may be off but bear with me.

I was wheeled out of the room on the bed having signed the form that basically allows them to slice and dice me. Paul my husband gets left behind, I ask him to call my mum. I don't know how I wasn't crying by this point because all I can think is that I may not get a chance to say goodbye to my mum because everything was moving so quickly and I still had all these separate teams working on me for different reasons. Instead I stared blankly at the ceiling and, rather embarrassingly, I held the hand of a nurse who I'm sure had more important things to do.

They sprayed me with the cold spray to check I'd been adequately numbed and it had, thankfully worked.

Then, a lovely older nurse who I never saw again after I left the theatre whispered in my ear that my husband was on his way in and that he was in his scrubs and looked lovely. 'This is your George Clooney moment' she said. And she was right. Love that he gave himself enough time to take a photo?! (I made him keep the scrubs...just in case ya know!?)

He was sat next to me, kissing my face and stroking my hair whilst I apparently just stared. The epidural had worked beautifully, however it had spread up my arms somewhat. I then tried to brush a piece of hair from my eyes and proceeded to whack myself in the face. 4 times!

Then it was showtime. I could've done without the commentary from the surgeon to be honest. I could feel they were stretching me, really didn't need to be told. So- lots of pressure, tugging and pulling and then all of the sudden I felt this whoosh and a huge sense of relief on all my organs as she was finally pulled from me. 

She was separated from the cord and lifted over my head to the nurses. My god she was so beautiful And shiny! She cried straight away.

I tried to lift my tingly numb arms out to her but they felt too weak. Instead, as I'd begged the lovely nurse for skin to skin they said I could have a few minutes with her. She was bought over screaming but to my utter joy, on being placed with me she settled. My heart instantly doubled in size.

And there she was, my daughter. Totally perfect. I couldn't kiss her enough. Those 2 minutes she lay with me were so precious and I truly believe got us both through the next few days. She knew me I'm sure of it and I'm so glad I got to whisper to her how much I loved her because seconds after she was whisked off to SCBU to be hooked up to her own drugs as my temperature and infection could've been passed on. Daddy went with her at my insistence and the rest is another blog post....

Until next time