The nerve
By hissychick | April 30, 2010
I have a great mother’s group. We have been meeting weekly since miss A was a teeny tacker- a record five years or so- and I mostly love my friends.
There are exceptions to every rule.
Today was at my place and I was happy to see everyone…bar one.
Tell me, why would anyone bring a clearly under the weather and snotty toddler into my house when they know full well how sick miss I has been, and proceed to let them paw and mouth any toy they wanted?
Why would they organise to pick up a nebuliser from another Mum at my house for their so obviously unwell child?
Why would they change the runny nappy of said child on my floor without a mat?
I could scream.
Topics: Ewwwww, Going bogue, hissyfit | 1 Comment »
Sorry kids
By hissychick | April 20, 2010
Gazing into my smudgy with fingerprints crystal ball I foresee some difficult questions being asked of me by misses E and I in the not too distant future (of course it’s a given with miss A but that’s another story).
I am not talking about the usual sex/death/meaning of life suspects. Although of course I dread those, it is the following two questions I fear the most:
“Mummy, why are there so many baby photos of miss A and not me?”
“Why don’t you have a record of all of my milestones?”
And of course if they are particularly savvy:
“Why didn’t you blog about me?”
Ugh.
You used to be able to explain away the lack of photos pre the digital age with the whole limited film excuse and if pressed the truthful albeit pissweak lack of time.
(And when it comes to not having a three day old professional pic of E, the lack of a photographer at the hospital on the day).
So what is it then?
When it comes to the milestones business, I have a baby book with miss A’s milestones carfeully recorded therein. Miss E’s milestones were detailed in my blog.
And when it comes to miss I…well let’s just say that we only found out that she had started rolling front to back when miss A casually told us that she’d been doing it for a few days. She often plays with her sister on the gymini mat as I undertake dog knows what other chores I am forever dealing with right now (probably the never ending freaking washing). Even now I can only hazily tell you that that was about two or three weeks ago.
Yes there is a lack of time factor. Looking after three kidlets is surprisingly time consuming and resource intensive, especially during periods of illness like Immyjim’s resolving bout of bronchiolitis last week (see I just proved my point, reasonably serious illness and two hospital visits and no detailed blog post!).
Yes it is because I am seriously knackered, said illnesses, frequent night feeding and miss E’s inability to sleep through ever are taking their toll (and you think you have it hard first time around- HA!!)
However…sometimes I wonder if part of the reason is that the whole babyhood gig is not novel anymore, and that you take it a little more for granted. And that freaks me big time. The ungratefulness of it all, the future regret at not being able to confidently tell each daughter exactly when she crawled, uttered her first words, nor what her favourite foods or storybooks were.
You know what though? I’m not sure it’s really that either. By releasing myself from the pressure of having to record each milestone I have been able to experience the joy of sometimes being fully present in the moment, able to savour the individuality of my girls and simply go with the flow of their emergence as the unique little people that they are.
When I am not being a grumpy tired naggy mc nag nag chore whore that is (curse you, evil bitch, I won’t let you win!).
I am blessed with three beautiful, intelligent and mostly healthy kidlets. So if you don’t hear from me as often I hope it’s because I am too busy appreciating that fact. And not just when one is at school, one is at daycare and the other is asleep.
Topics: I'm a Mum, Uncategorized, words and lack thereof | 3 Comments »
Buddha bub
By hissychick | April 8, 2010
7.45 kg. 63 cm long. Head circumference 42.5 cm. …at 14 weeks and one day.
Let’s put this in perspective: miss tallest in her class and large craniumed thanks to mummy’s genes A did not reach this weight until six months and the length and head circumference until at least four and a half months.
The former buddha bub title holder miss E was only this chunky by around four and a half months and only reached the same length and head circumference measurements by five months.
It would appear silent reflux is a mere annoyance to my giant baby Immyjim (and me).
She’s gorgeous, she’s healthy, she’s meeting all the appropriate milestones for her age. Hooray for boobies!
Buddha bubs aside I wonder what the ECHN made of Evie’s bold and conversation interrupting “I’ve got a wedgie…no..wait..I’ve picked it out” during Immyjim’s weigh in today?
Topics: Immyjim, hi ho E is on the go, hooray for boobies | 4 Comments »
Happy Birthday to me
By hissychick | March 24, 2010
Immyjim is 12 weeks today…and I turned 34 two days ago:
I am so blessed to have my beautiful family…but truth be told I am a little lost right now. It’s time for hissychick to re emerge but I’m not sure how or where to start.
And that is/was my birthday wish….
Topics: hello i'm boring | No Comments »
Somnolence
By hissychick | March 14, 2010
It’s hard to tell whether it’s merely sleep deprivation, or something else. Just know that the thought of attempting to blog induces a sense of anxiety in this hissychick right now, because I know I should be recording precious moments and yet I feel. so. damn. tired.
And guilty.
And detached.
And that it’s not just the blogging either.
Topics: Going bogue, Silly mummy, moody blues | 1 Comment »
Gotcha
By hissychick | March 4, 2010
Topics: Immyjim | 1 Comment »
Lucky eight. Weeks that is.
By hissychick | February 27, 2010
By some wierd and random act of your choice of deity I find myself with a baby who is asleep and two kidlets at the pool with mr hissychick.
In other words I actually have a chance to blog.
There is so much to catch upon, so much to tell you but as I am currently caught up in a wee bit of anxious state, fuelled of course by broken sleep, the joys of silent reflux and my own wierd fear/loathing of the settling newborns to sleep groundhog day gig I think it’s best to let some pictures do the talking.
First up…my biggest girl, the gorgeous miss A. Five years old, a new bike, a pool party and starting school. Nothing to it!
Then the ever cheeky miss E. Enjoying swimming classes at last…but now refusing to participate at Physie even though she is excited and terribly cute. A cheeky little ham for the camera and scarily grown up now.
Two big sisters who dote on their littlest sister.
Speaking of the little’un….she is growing so quickly in so many ways. Here she is in a gown that was mine as a bub.
Silent reflux with difficulties settling both day and night (it is not nice to hear your baby vomit in their sleep) and the dreaded catnapping are not making life as enjoyable as it could be. However we’ve pulled out the big guns of co sleeping, baby wearing and the swing /hammock/car capsule as well to boob as both food supply and dummy. In addition to mr hissychick’s strangely appealing unkempt father of three beard, the dirty hippy approach is what is getting us through for now.
But enough of that. Here are some more beautiful pics of my gorgeous last bub, little double chinned chunky thighed boombah that she is:
I can’t believe that it has taken me half a week to get this post finalised, and Immyjim has changed even more in the interim but there you go. One day I will capture her crinkly smile for you all so that you don’t notice the fact that my prose has gone the way of my sleep, energy levels and sanity! So much to capture, so little time.
I hear someone waking, so the other photos will have to wait.
Until next post folks….be that tomorrow or in three months time…
Topics: B to the busy, Immyjim, Uncategorized, hi ho A is on the go, hi ho E is on the go, little snippets | 5 Comments »
Bear with me folks
By hissychick | February 9, 2010
…there will be photos and updates once I iron out the post lightning strike computer and internerd connection hiccups.
(Oh yeah, and drag myself away from cuddling my wee gorgeous bub and her two delightful big sisters. Bless hormones-for now-and school).
Topics: I'm a Mum, Immyjim | 1 Comment »
ZOMG
By hissychick | February 3, 2010
I have a five year old who starts school tomorrow even though I am positive I only brought her home from hospital last week.
A two and a half year old who has completely toilet trained herself and starts Physie classes next week.
A five week old who already rolls from her back to her side for sleep and who smiled at me for the first time today.
Who needs amphetamines when life is speeding by this quickly even in the midst of a sleep deprived stupor?
Topics: I'm a Mum, Immyjim, hi ho A is on the go, hi ho E is on the go | 4 Comments »
The birth of Imogen Emily
By hissychick | January 15, 2010
It’s hard to believe miss Immyjim* has been with us for sixteen days already and I haven’t yet had the chance to record the story of her birth.
(Oh that’s right, husband having gallbladder surgery and older children not sleeping in addition to meeting newborn 24 hour needs. Pathetic really).
Sometime after midnight on December 30 I awoke in a wet bed. After crying like a big scaredy cat at what was ahead ringing the hospital we decided to head down the hill and see if the 40 minute drive would bring on some action.
Upon arrival it was confirmed that I was leaking amniotic fluid and having a show, however thirty minutes hooked up to the monitor revealed that nothing of substance was happening contraction wise and bubs was in a blasted posterior position. So the husband and I settled in for some rest.
Sunrise….nothing. The next six hours or so saw us walking around a lot, trying to get the show on the road. All we had were some irregular pissweak contractions, with little miss merely descending enough to block off the leak.
And so it came to pass that a midwife entered the room at around midday with a syntocinon drip and I promptly burst into tears. I simply couldn’t believe that I was facing what I dreaded most, an induction. I’d been there and done that with miss Abi, and the ineveitable cascade of intervention and lack of control was what I feared the most.
I started signing the permission paperwork for an epidural…and then stopped. I wasn’t about to let history repeat itself. I demanded to see my obstetrician.
An hour or so later, after much tearful discussion with mr hissychick (who simply stated tha he would support my decisions, bless him) and Dr J arrived. Here I will shamefacedly admit that at first I begged him for a caesar, to which he calmly responded that with bubs so well descended and everything looking OK it would be a bit frivolous to perform unnecessary surgery when an epidural was an option when the time came.
And then he examined me. I cried like the big sook that I am was found to be 3cm dilated, and so a stretch and sweep was performed (did someone saw owwww?). My doctor boldly declared that there was no leak as he could feel the forewaters bulging, and told me to go home until something started. Bubs was still posterior.
My midwife, her face a passing storm of thunderclouds during the examination spoke up as soon as my doctor had left the room. “You were definitely leaking amniotic fluid. Do you have someone you can visit locally, because if I were you I wouldn’t go too far from the hospital…”.
Those sage words of advice saved me from a motorway birth peoples.
The husband and I headed off to my parent’s place at around 1:30 pm, a ten minute drive from the hospital. Already I was starting to get the type of crampy pains that signal the start of something, and the snappy attitude that precedes and remains when labour is inevitable.
Upon arriving at my parents place, my sister, her husband and my niece who had been visiting for a swim took one look at me and hastily bade their farewells.
A cup of tea later, and I started to get to my feet when the contractions started, marching back and forth as I rode each wave. These pains were localised in my back.
Rapidly they stepped up a gear, and I started to add the chant of “left right left right”.
And then out came my new BFF, my mr happy stress bell. Here he is:
I started out by squooshing him around, using the noise to distract myself. This quickly progressed to tapping him against the wall in time with my march/chant, and the tapping rapidly became thudding as the pain intensified.
Within the space of an hour the pain had moved from my back to both my lower abdomen and back, and then suddenly it was all in my abdomen. Contractions were still irregular, but starting to get closer.
At around 3:15 pm I could see my mother starting to get concerned, and she called mr hissychick who had just popped out to a local shop to grab some supplies. By three thirty she had ushered us both into the car, as I had had four contractions within the space of fifteen minutes. And all the while I kept telling anyone who would listen that my contractions weren’t regular and that the epidural was going in no matter how little I had dilated.
Again a woman’s intuition saved me from a road/home birth.
The seven minutes it took us to return to the hospital are among the longest of my life. Contraction started slamming into contraction…and we kept hitting red lights. At one intersection I found myself in tears and slamming mr happy against my window, much to the horror of the people in the car next to us who I swear must have thought I was being kidnapped.
At long last we arrived, with mr hissychick driving the wrong way into the underground carpark to spare me the agony of speed humps. As I dealt as best I could with a contraction that hit me upon clambering out of the car a nearby mother wheeling a pram apparently grinned and told mr hissychick that it would all be worth it. The carpark security guard heard the commotion, and as I stamped my feet, chanted and slammed my stress ball against a column timidly suggested a wheelchair, to which my response was a very impolite “NO!”.
By the time I was engulfed with another excruciating contraction in the lift I no longer gave a flying one what passersby thought, I just wanted something for the pain.
And why is it that you are greeted with grins and a calm “So something is happening, come in” as you bellow chant and stamp and stomp your way back into the birthing suite you left a mere couple of hours earlier?
Somehow I found myself standing at the wall adjacent to the door to the bathroom, where I stamped my feet, chanted and slammed mr happy against the wall. I have no idea why that spot suited me at the time, all I knew was that I was not budging.
One midwife told me I needed to go to the bathroom to provide a urine sample. I ignored her.
And then my angel midwife arrived, surveyed the scene and promptly took over. I am not sure how she convinced me to leave my spot and walk the three steps to the bed for an exam, but she did.
When she pronounced me 8cm dilated and that it was a bit late for an epidural, she did it in such a way that I found myself trusting her that I could get through this (although having said that she did step back as she announced this to me).
She promptly got on the phone to my obstetrician and it vaguely occurred to me that he was not going to make it in time. Strangely enough this did not concern me, as I implicitly trusted my midwife, even though we had never met before.
As I went back to my spot at the wall and immediately entered transition, it was her calm and supportive voice that I listened to, telling me that I could do this, but perhaps I might like to just try and lean over the bed before I felt the urge to push.
I made it back to the bed in the nick of time, and as mr hissychick rubbed a heat pack hard against my back the urge to push hit me.
“I can’t do thi….GRUNT!” as my body overtook proceedings. “Yes you can!” said angel midwife in my ear. “You’re a warrior woman!”.
And so I made it through a very rapid pushing phase by visualising that my diaphragm was a coffee plunger and I simply went with it, bearing down when I could, alternating with a combination of a type of birth roar, pounding my fists on the pillows in front of me…and on a couple of occasions even biting them (spare me the jokes people).
Not once did my midwife tell me when to push, nor did she try and force the wretched gas on me. As a rapid birther with no resting phase to speak of she kept me calm. In fact, I was dimly aware that as I pushed she was organising a caesarian for another patient and the fact that she was doing this as I birthed reassured me that everything was going OK for me.
And then suddenly there was the burn of crowning, a futile attempt at panting to slow down while my midwife tried to stop my newest daughter’s hand from coming out alongside her head.
With a final heroic push (I wanted the pain over NOW!) and Imogen was here, passed between my legs for me to catch. It is a most incredible way to focus a mother, scooping up her slippery newborn and gently cradling her without pulling too much on the cord still connecting us.
As Imogen and I both howled with the enormity of what had happened, and mr hissychick clamped and cut the cord, the syntocinon shot was put in my leg and I clambered up onto the bed and promptly delivered the placenta (and they initially wanted to induce me?!).
My third daughter, our miracle child was here, all 3.6 kilograms and 50 cm of her. It was 5:04 pm, no more than an hour after I had arrived back at the hospital.
The flood of endorphins and oxytocin was, and still is overwhelming.
About an hour after she was born, my littlest miss finally stopped crying enough to lie down with me for a feed. She latched beautifully, and I am blessed to say that we have had no troubles with feeding ever since.
What an amazing birth experience. I am truly in awe at what my body is capable of in spite of my control freak mind. And I owe it in large part to Juju Sundin’s Birth Skills.
(I should also add here that my obstetrician did turn up after I had delivered the placenta and in time to do the necessary stitching that is the legacy of yet another rapid birth. He was rather sheepish about it all but when I asked for a discount told me only if I go for number 4!).
Imogen Emily. She’s here and I cannot imagine life without her. I am so deliciously in love with her, as are her devoted sisters and father. I am truly blessed.
* How miss E pronounces miss I’s name…so gorgeous.
Topics: Birthing ahoy, I'm a Mum, Immyjim, what to expect when you're expecting #3 | 8 Comments »