I had to do it, there was no avoiding it this time. It took a lot out of me to finally say “No more it is enough!”
My sister has been spending up big on JJ, even while pregnant we were receiving gifts constantly. Every time I saw her there was something new and while we appreciated each and every purchase it became a joke and I felt like there was an agenda behind the “presents”.
It turned out that there was an agenda. About 2 weeks before JJ was born my sister and Ellie came over for a visit and yet again she had another gift, I can’t remember what it was but we thanked her kindly and asked her to stop. The conversation turned to the Christening (of my yet unborn son), she was desperate to know the details…who would be coming, when we would hold the event, which church and where the lunch would be…and of course who would be the God Parents.
Tim and I had already decided that Ellie would be JJ’s God mother and his best friend would be the God Father. This did not go down well with my sister…she was itching to have the privilege…and I knew deep in my heart that this was the reason for all the gifts. This may sound harsh but wait there is more to the story.
The next day I received and phone call from my brother in law…saying “how dare I ask Ellie to be the God mother, as she is underage”. My family it seems believe that a request to be a Religious God mother automatically means that I’m asking people to be the Legal Guardian in case something happens.
My Brother in law then went onto say that my sister had noticed that all the gifts that we had received from them have been thrown away. It seems as though my sister was snooping around JJ’s room and because I had packed away a few things, she automatically assumed that I threw them away. Or…or..wait for this…she was stiring the pot as she was pissed that I hadn’t asked her to be JJ’s God mother.
In the hospital we received yet more gifts from my sister, this time Tim kindly but forcefully said “Thankyou …blah…we appreciate all the gifts, but please no more”. Tim and I worked out recently that she would’ve spent over $800 on JJ and we feel uncomfortable with the constant purchases.
So today she turned up with yet another plastic bag with her latest purchase for JJ. I refused to accept the gift, wouldn’t even look in the bag. She tried to force it into Tim’s hands but he too refused it. She then placed the bag into JJ’s room, where I removed it and gave it straight to Ellies hand, telling my sister that we had explained that whilst the thoughts and gifts were appreciated..we had asked her NOT to buy anything else. Her response was what is she going to do with the baby stuff. I replied that Ellie can take it back to the store for a refund and then she can purchase herself some thing.
I haven’t had to be a bitch like this towards my sister but it seems that since JJ has been born I’ve finally grown the balls to stick up for my convictions, and you know what….it felt good and I was really proud of myself.
Sunday, 1 October 2006
Tuesday, 5 September 2006
The Gold medal goes to....
My mother!!! I always knew that my mother had a heart of gold. All throughout her life my mother’s kindness has been taken advantage off; Growing up the kids in our street would come and play at the house of Mari, because my mother made great cakes and cookies.
At times my mothers kind heartedness would piss me off, as it seemed that she would bend over backwards to help everyone else rather than do stuff for us. Perhaps with maturity or marriage I finally realised that the unselfishness of my mother was something I aspired to achieve in my life…and I’m way off.
Tim went back to work today….and with this knowledge my mother was here at 9am this morning armed with food and a change of clothes. My only task today was dealing with JJ, whilst my darling mother cleaned the whole house…meaning she vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed and mopped the whole house, bathrooms, toilets, laundry, bedrooms, kitchen…yes the whole house.
Then after some visitors left and I was on the phone to Ellie (consoling the latest crisis in her life…Tim feeding changing JJ) my mother cooked us a meal…took some home and then left.
Not once did I hear any type of critisim from her about how I was dealing with JJ, not once did I hear any assvice on the wrongs and rights of what I was doing…At one point JJ had cracked it big time and the only way he would sleep was cuddled in my arms…My mother looked at me, when I was trying to convince her to have a break and told me that the most important job I was doing was loving, cuddling and resting with my son.
Today is my first day home with JJ all by myself…solo…am a little nervous…excited and anxious about how I will cope…Wednesday Mum is coming over again armed with more food she wants to cook for us…
Any suggestions about how I can repay my mother for her help would be grateful as I have no idea…
At times my mothers kind heartedness would piss me off, as it seemed that she would bend over backwards to help everyone else rather than do stuff for us. Perhaps with maturity or marriage I finally realised that the unselfishness of my mother was something I aspired to achieve in my life…and I’m way off.
Tim went back to work today….and with this knowledge my mother was here at 9am this morning armed with food and a change of clothes. My only task today was dealing with JJ, whilst my darling mother cleaned the whole house…meaning she vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed and mopped the whole house, bathrooms, toilets, laundry, bedrooms, kitchen…yes the whole house.
Then after some visitors left and I was on the phone to Ellie (consoling the latest crisis in her life…Tim feeding changing JJ) my mother cooked us a meal…took some home and then left.
Not once did I hear any type of critisim from her about how I was dealing with JJ, not once did I hear any assvice on the wrongs and rights of what I was doing…At one point JJ had cracked it big time and the only way he would sleep was cuddled in my arms…My mother looked at me, when I was trying to convince her to have a break and told me that the most important job I was doing was loving, cuddling and resting with my son.
Today is my first day home with JJ all by myself…solo…am a little nervous…excited and anxious about how I will cope…Wednesday Mum is coming over again armed with more food she wants to cook for us…
Any suggestions about how I can repay my mother for her help would be grateful as I have no idea…
Wednesday, 23 August 2006
The Birth Story
The Birth story
You’ll have to forgive me if it is all over the place as I’m going by memory here. After I posted on Monday I went back to my bedroom and Tim suggested that I call the hospital with my condition. The midwife suggested that I last out until my OB appointment and then let him make the decision on when to come in, it was too early in the ‘labour’ part to go into the hospital.
My appointment was schedule for 10:30am, I mentioned to the receptionist that I was in the midst of having contractions, but there were 2 women before me, so I had to sit in the waiting room, dealing with the pain. Then of course as usually happens Dr OB was called away to deliver a baby. When I did finally get to see the midwife I was told, not to go home but go straight to the hospital for an assessment from the OB.
We didn’t even have our bags with us, I was not prepared for going straight to the hospital, I had assumed that I would go home and deal with the pain until it really started getting regular…but oh no…that was not the case.
Assessment done, 1 cm dilated and he decided to break my waters ‘to get this labour going properly’. Throughout the rest of the time I was in there I was constantly told by this guy that “I was not in proper labour”. Waters broke…no pain but boy was it a weird feeling, like a gush of hot water that you have no control over.
I remember him commenting that he didn’t like the colour of the water…at this point I was staring into Tim’s eyes telling him not to look down there in Hungarian….over and over…don’t look….don’t look….don’t look. Bobim had done a poo in my uterus…so I was put on a monitor. Not the way I wanted to deal with labour pains as I wanted to be able to walk around.
Waters broke at 12pm…contractions started that morning at 2:49am. I was then informed by Dr OB that he would not be available to deliver this baby between 5pm and 11pm as he had a prior commitment but his partner was on call. I was also informed that he would be back at 4pm.
Tim and I settled into a dizziness of pain, panting and TV watching. I was also not allowed to eat anything. 4pm comes and no real change, contractions very irregular, but stronger. He takes one look at that monitor and says baby is doing fine and you still are not in labour. I will be back at 11pm.
Again the hours seem to blur into dealing with the pain and TV watching, at some point I convinced the midwife to allow me to stand instead of sit and move around a bit. At one point I was put to bed to try to relax and get some sleep, the contractions died away to 20 minutes apart. Standing was the best position but it was also very tiring.
11pm comes and by this time I’ve dealt with 3 different midwifes, they got nicer as the time went on. We get a phone call from Dr OB telling us that he would not be able to come in for some hours as he was called away to another hospital for an emergency caesarean. At this point I lost it…I started crying and telling the midwife how disappointed I was in him and felt like I was not that important. By this stage, even if he thought that I was not in proper labour I was dealing with pain constantly and I wanted this baby out.
Sleeping tablet and panadol were prescribed to me at this point…I was not given anything stronger as I’m allergic to codeine. I was never offered Gas, pathadine or an epidural I guess because everyone felt that I was still in the early first stage of labour. Tim was also sent home at this point to get some sleep.
Dr OB would be back at 5am. I was able to sleep in between the contractions but woke everytime I had one, at this stage I’m in bed and I didn’t care for breathing quietly, I moaned like I was a cow, I wanted the whole hospital to know that I was in real fucking pain, even though the ‘professionals’ didn’t think so.
2:40am I hear Dr OB voice out side the room, he sticks his head in and tells me that he has another delivery next door, but wanted to check on my progress. An internal was done and I was 3cm dilated, this gutted me. After 24 hours of dealing with this pain I was only 3cm gone….7cm left.
His plan was to then let me go until 7am when they would give me a drip to help progress the labour along. An IV needle was put into my wrist. I was in disbelief that he wanted me to just continue along for god knew how long.
Then he was called away as the lady next door was delivering her baby…I heard everything…her moans, screams and worse of all the baby’s first cries. I then sobbed and sobbed, here I was over 12 hours in that room working through the pain the best way I knew how, whilst strapped to a machine and this lady waltz’s in and has her baby before I do…to me life was not fair.
The midwife came in and took one look at me, comforted me and then went and spoke to Dr OB. Time was then 3:00am, when he came back in and spoke to me about surgery, I asked him if there was any chance of surgery and he said sure there was a chance but he would not be available until 1pm that afternoon.
In shock I sat there and half listened to his ramblings about scheduled surgeries…where I didn’t give a fuck about anyone else, I was struggling and I couldn’t make it through to the end, I was tired and frantic to have Bobim out. Then next thing I remember him saying was that he wouldn’t get any sleep as it was that night and that he could call everyone and get them in for the surgery now….I think that I started begging him….please now….right this minute.
I called Tim back into the hospital and within 45 minutes everyone was in the hospital and I was being wheeled into theater. Honestly I was never more happier to know that I was not going to suffer another 5 to 7 hours longer.
Hearing our son cry was just amazing, hearing him cough and spew was frightening. After the event it became apparent that I would’ve never been able to deliver my son naturally as he was stuck on my pelvic bone and they had to use forceps to remove him.
I look at him now and do not regret the decision I made to beg for surgery. The pain of recovery is nothing to the thought of having to deal with the pain of labour longer. I have surprised myself and Tim about how I’ve dealt with the pain of recovery.
You’ll have to forgive me if it is all over the place as I’m going by memory here. After I posted on Monday I went back to my bedroom and Tim suggested that I call the hospital with my condition. The midwife suggested that I last out until my OB appointment and then let him make the decision on when to come in, it was too early in the ‘labour’ part to go into the hospital.
My appointment was schedule for 10:30am, I mentioned to the receptionist that I was in the midst of having contractions, but there were 2 women before me, so I had to sit in the waiting room, dealing with the pain. Then of course as usually happens Dr OB was called away to deliver a baby. When I did finally get to see the midwife I was told, not to go home but go straight to the hospital for an assessment from the OB.
We didn’t even have our bags with us, I was not prepared for going straight to the hospital, I had assumed that I would go home and deal with the pain until it really started getting regular…but oh no…that was not the case.
Assessment done, 1 cm dilated and he decided to break my waters ‘to get this labour going properly’. Throughout the rest of the time I was in there I was constantly told by this guy that “I was not in proper labour”. Waters broke…no pain but boy was it a weird feeling, like a gush of hot water that you have no control over.
I remember him commenting that he didn’t like the colour of the water…at this point I was staring into Tim’s eyes telling him not to look down there in Hungarian….over and over…don’t look….don’t look….don’t look. Bobim had done a poo in my uterus…so I was put on a monitor. Not the way I wanted to deal with labour pains as I wanted to be able to walk around.
Waters broke at 12pm…contractions started that morning at 2:49am. I was then informed by Dr OB that he would not be available to deliver this baby between 5pm and 11pm as he had a prior commitment but his partner was on call. I was also informed that he would be back at 4pm.
Tim and I settled into a dizziness of pain, panting and TV watching. I was also not allowed to eat anything. 4pm comes and no real change, contractions very irregular, but stronger. He takes one look at that monitor and says baby is doing fine and you still are not in labour. I will be back at 11pm.
Again the hours seem to blur into dealing with the pain and TV watching, at some point I convinced the midwife to allow me to stand instead of sit and move around a bit. At one point I was put to bed to try to relax and get some sleep, the contractions died away to 20 minutes apart. Standing was the best position but it was also very tiring.
11pm comes and by this time I’ve dealt with 3 different midwifes, they got nicer as the time went on. We get a phone call from Dr OB telling us that he would not be able to come in for some hours as he was called away to another hospital for an emergency caesarean. At this point I lost it…I started crying and telling the midwife how disappointed I was in him and felt like I was not that important. By this stage, even if he thought that I was not in proper labour I was dealing with pain constantly and I wanted this baby out.
Sleeping tablet and panadol were prescribed to me at this point…I was not given anything stronger as I’m allergic to codeine. I was never offered Gas, pathadine or an epidural I guess because everyone felt that I was still in the early first stage of labour. Tim was also sent home at this point to get some sleep.
Dr OB would be back at 5am. I was able to sleep in between the contractions but woke everytime I had one, at this stage I’m in bed and I didn’t care for breathing quietly, I moaned like I was a cow, I wanted the whole hospital to know that I was in real fucking pain, even though the ‘professionals’ didn’t think so.
2:40am I hear Dr OB voice out side the room, he sticks his head in and tells me that he has another delivery next door, but wanted to check on my progress. An internal was done and I was 3cm dilated, this gutted me. After 24 hours of dealing with this pain I was only 3cm gone….7cm left.
His plan was to then let me go until 7am when they would give me a drip to help progress the labour along. An IV needle was put into my wrist. I was in disbelief that he wanted me to just continue along for god knew how long.
Then he was called away as the lady next door was delivering her baby…I heard everything…her moans, screams and worse of all the baby’s first cries. I then sobbed and sobbed, here I was over 12 hours in that room working through the pain the best way I knew how, whilst strapped to a machine and this lady waltz’s in and has her baby before I do…to me life was not fair.
The midwife came in and took one look at me, comforted me and then went and spoke to Dr OB. Time was then 3:00am, when he came back in and spoke to me about surgery, I asked him if there was any chance of surgery and he said sure there was a chance but he would not be available until 1pm that afternoon.
In shock I sat there and half listened to his ramblings about scheduled surgeries…where I didn’t give a fuck about anyone else, I was struggling and I couldn’t make it through to the end, I was tired and frantic to have Bobim out. Then next thing I remember him saying was that he wouldn’t get any sleep as it was that night and that he could call everyone and get them in for the surgery now….I think that I started begging him….please now….right this minute.
I called Tim back into the hospital and within 45 minutes everyone was in the hospital and I was being wheeled into theater. Honestly I was never more happier to know that I was not going to suffer another 5 to 7 hours longer.
Hearing our son cry was just amazing, hearing him cough and spew was frightening. After the event it became apparent that I would’ve never been able to deliver my son naturally as he was stuck on my pelvic bone and they had to use forceps to remove him.
I look at him now and do not regret the decision I made to beg for surgery. The pain of recovery is nothing to the thought of having to deal with the pain of labour longer. I have surprised myself and Tim about how I’ve dealt with the pain of recovery.
Tuesday, 22 August 2006
It was the start
Monday morning a week ago was the start of a very long and tiring journey.
I'm happy to announce the birth of Jordan Jared Sebestyen, who was born on the 15th August at 4:50 am weighing in at 2.72kg (5.99 pounds) length of 51cm, delivery through an emergency c-section.
We are home now as you can guess...
How am I? Well I don't think that anything could have prepared me for the emotions of the last week. At times I feel as though I have things under control but mostly I'm over whelmed with the inadequateness of my skills as a Mother.
Tim and I are in awe of him, we can't believe that we made something so precious and whom we love so much....
Birth story to follow...
Here are some photo's:
****Updated*****
Sorry about no photo's but am having a lot of problems with uploading photo's to this blog...if any of you have any suggestions please let me know..
Oh and thank you for all your warm wishes...
I'm happy to announce the birth of Jordan Jared Sebestyen, who was born on the 15th August at 4:50 am weighing in at 2.72kg (5.99 pounds) length of 51cm, delivery through an emergency c-section.
We are home now as you can guess...
How am I? Well I don't think that anything could have prepared me for the emotions of the last week. At times I feel as though I have things under control but mostly I'm over whelmed with the inadequateness of my skills as a Mother.
Tim and I are in awe of him, we can't believe that we made something so precious and whom we love so much....
Birth story to follow...
Here are some photo's:
****Updated*****
Sorry about no photo's but am having a lot of problems with uploading photo's to this blog...if any of you have any suggestions please let me know..
Oh and thank you for all your warm wishes...
Saturday, 29 July 2006
Family and caves
So much has happened since I last wrote and not all of it is good. I received a few emails stating: “I hope that you are relaxing and not stressing and enjoying your time at home”.
HUH….now that is funny, I don’t think my family understands the meaning of the words relaxation and stress-free!! Here is a snapshot of my life with my family:
*) Dad in hospital with a suspect Angina attack…yet again
*) Dad out of hospital with a bad virus
*) Mum not being able to cope with Dad’s aggressiveness and who does she turn to??
*) Sister calling nearly every day wanting to ‘Pop’ in for a visit…read pop in for a snoop and gossip about parents
*) Sister and Ellie visit where sister demands I choose between her and my parents when inviting people for the christening of my child (who may I remind you is YET TO BE BORN)
*) BIL cracking it that I’ve asked Ellie to be the God Mother
*) Sister lies and says that I’ve thrown out all the ‘gifts’ (read bribes) from the babies room.
I could go on but I won’t has this it is not helping, I’m just getting more upset thinking about all the things that have been said and done during the last week and a bit.
I’ve not needed my cave of silence, blackness for a long time. I’ve been happy to be apart of the world, living life and dare I say looking forward to the future. But I feel the call of my cave more than ever. Locking myself away from the world or family and not having to deal with other peoples shit.
Perhaps I’ve had too high expectations on what this child would mean to my family….Happiness, joy and love... Was I wrong to expect this?
After so many years of trying, failing, miscarrying, crying, drugs, procedures, doctors and money, I only have 26 days left till this baby pops out and I would’ve thought that my family would be a little happy. But instead it is almost a daily event where me and mine are put on the back burner and I’m being forced to deal with other peoples shit. Whether it be jealousy, anger, disappointments or extreme expectations.
When is it my time to relax, enjoy the last few days of this pregnancy, and prepare for our life change and generally getting over the fear of the impending birth?
I deliberately left work early to enjoy this time at home and maybe it is my own expectations that were far out of reach. I had so much planned, wanted to do so much to prepare but I feel that my family thinks that they are entitled to my time now that there is more of it!
It has not been all that bad and I have achieved a few things off my list…right now though I feel very used and abused by my family. Even a bit hurt that my needs have been pushed aside for their crap, almost like their feelings are more important than mine.
HUH….now that is funny, I don’t think my family understands the meaning of the words relaxation and stress-free!! Here is a snapshot of my life with my family:
*) Dad in hospital with a suspect Angina attack…yet again
*) Dad out of hospital with a bad virus
*) Mum not being able to cope with Dad’s aggressiveness and who does she turn to??
*) Sister calling nearly every day wanting to ‘Pop’ in for a visit…read pop in for a snoop and gossip about parents
*) Sister and Ellie visit where sister demands I choose between her and my parents when inviting people for the christening of my child (who may I remind you is YET TO BE BORN)
*) BIL cracking it that I’ve asked Ellie to be the God Mother
*) Sister lies and says that I’ve thrown out all the ‘gifts’ (read bribes) from the babies room.
I could go on but I won’t has this it is not helping, I’m just getting more upset thinking about all the things that have been said and done during the last week and a bit.
I’ve not needed my cave of silence, blackness for a long time. I’ve been happy to be apart of the world, living life and dare I say looking forward to the future. But I feel the call of my cave more than ever. Locking myself away from the world or family and not having to deal with other peoples shit.
Perhaps I’ve had too high expectations on what this child would mean to my family….Happiness, joy and love... Was I wrong to expect this?
After so many years of trying, failing, miscarrying, crying, drugs, procedures, doctors and money, I only have 26 days left till this baby pops out and I would’ve thought that my family would be a little happy. But instead it is almost a daily event where me and mine are put on the back burner and I’m being forced to deal with other peoples shit. Whether it be jealousy, anger, disappointments or extreme expectations.
When is it my time to relax, enjoy the last few days of this pregnancy, and prepare for our life change and generally getting over the fear of the impending birth?
I deliberately left work early to enjoy this time at home and maybe it is my own expectations that were far out of reach. I had so much planned, wanted to do so much to prepare but I feel that my family thinks that they are entitled to my time now that there is more of it!
It has not been all that bad and I have achieved a few things off my list…right now though I feel very used and abused by my family. Even a bit hurt that my needs have been pushed aside for their crap, almost like their feelings are more important than mine.
Thursday, 6 July 2006
Mixed bag
Work
I’m done, I’ve finished up. The last week of work I only ended up working 3.5 days. I’ve spoken about the fever and the sickness so won’t go there again. On the Thursday there was a nice lunch at one of the restaurants close to work. 30 people from my department went, I felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want the fuss as I just wanted to leave without being noticed. It was nice and quick.
On the Friday the Project Manager that I had been working with for the last 2 years gave a nice speech, although I was totally unprepared for the reference to all the IF treatments and heart aches we went through to conceive and keep Bobim. I didn’t cry but it was very hard. My words back to the department were rushed and mumble. I think that I said something along the lines of “I’m looking forward to my new job of sleepless nights, crying baby and dirty nappies and see you all in a year”.
This is what we received from my colleagues:
Me
Friday night saw me have the worst night sleep ever….ever really? Yes ever! I couldn’t sleep lying down because of the wheezing and choking. Coughing had me throwing up most of the night. Tried to sleep sitting up but seemed to only manage maybe 3 hours total. At one point I was preparing to wake Tim to take me to the hospital. But decided to wait it out until the morning and see the GP again.
Diagnosis = Sever Bronchitis and if I had left it longer…possible pneumonia. So an on antibiotics and a puffer thing to help me cough up the shit in my lungs. I’m happy to report that I’m well on the way to recovery..not there yet but much better than I was.
Parents
My parents arrived home in the early hours of Wednesday morning…read midnight on Tuesday. I was woken yesterday morning to a phone call my mum to come over and take her to the Dr. She had a migraine from the anxiety and the trip. What a way to greet my parents…my mother throwing up and delirious. My Father with his arm so bruised it looks like something out of a horror movie. He had suffered a bad fall whilst overseas and didn’t want to tell me….cause I’m pregnant.
First week of freedom
From work? Freedom you have got to be kidding!!! I had Ellie and Tina with me from Sunday night till Tuesday and whilst I love them to death both of them here when I’m not feeling 100% was just a bit too much. But I didn’t feel that I could say no, plus part of me wanted them to be here.
Today is the first day that I’ve had to myself and just the simple task of doing the laundry this morning has given me a great deal of joy…go figure I know. But it is something that I’ve been wanting to do. This afternoon I plan on going to curtain places to organise quotes for Bobims room.
Speaking about Bobim’s room, I have a whole post with photo’s in the works to show you all what we have done.
I’m done, I’ve finished up. The last week of work I only ended up working 3.5 days. I’ve spoken about the fever and the sickness so won’t go there again. On the Thursday there was a nice lunch at one of the restaurants close to work. 30 people from my department went, I felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want the fuss as I just wanted to leave without being noticed. It was nice and quick.
On the Friday the Project Manager that I had been working with for the last 2 years gave a nice speech, although I was totally unprepared for the reference to all the IF treatments and heart aches we went through to conceive and keep Bobim. I didn’t cry but it was very hard. My words back to the department were rushed and mumble. I think that I said something along the lines of “I’m looking forward to my new job of sleepless nights, crying baby and dirty nappies and see you all in a year”.
This is what we received from my colleagues:
Me
Friday night saw me have the worst night sleep ever….ever really? Yes ever! I couldn’t sleep lying down because of the wheezing and choking. Coughing had me throwing up most of the night. Tried to sleep sitting up but seemed to only manage maybe 3 hours total. At one point I was preparing to wake Tim to take me to the hospital. But decided to wait it out until the morning and see the GP again.
Diagnosis = Sever Bronchitis and if I had left it longer…possible pneumonia. So an on antibiotics and a puffer thing to help me cough up the shit in my lungs. I’m happy to report that I’m well on the way to recovery..not there yet but much better than I was.
Parents
My parents arrived home in the early hours of Wednesday morning…read midnight on Tuesday. I was woken yesterday morning to a phone call my mum to come over and take her to the Dr. She had a migraine from the anxiety and the trip. What a way to greet my parents…my mother throwing up and delirious. My Father with his arm so bruised it looks like something out of a horror movie. He had suffered a bad fall whilst overseas and didn’t want to tell me….cause I’m pregnant.
First week of freedom
From work? Freedom you have got to be kidding!!! I had Ellie and Tina with me from Sunday night till Tuesday and whilst I love them to death both of them here when I’m not feeling 100% was just a bit too much. But I didn’t feel that I could say no, plus part of me wanted them to be here.
Today is the first day that I’ve had to myself and just the simple task of doing the laundry this morning has given me a great deal of joy…go figure I know. But it is something that I’ve been wanting to do. This afternoon I plan on going to curtain places to organise quotes for Bobims room.
Speaking about Bobim’s room, I have a whole post with photo’s in the works to show you all what we have done.
Wednesday, 24 May 2006
Eyes wide shut
I had a minor freak out yesterday, after realising that I only have 26 more working days till I leave work to become a Mum. This idea totally freaked me out…“I’m leaving work to become a Mum….fuck when did that happen?”
I must be going through life with my eyes wide shut, during my IF / TTC time I never thought of being and staying pregnant…never thought beyond the next blood test, next u/s, and next cycle. So you can imagine my total shock of going to OB appointments where I have certificates saying I’m attending “For Management of Pregnancy”….Management of Pregnancy me…yeah right. I still can’t believe that tonight again I’m attending another pre-natal class; all the bruising in my arms indicated that I still pinch myself in disbelief.
If by now I haven’t got my head around being pregnant, imagine how I haven’t even had a wavering thought of the birth and life after. By attending the class, I feel as though I’m just going through the motions. I’m almost waiting for someone to run up to me with a camera saying “Candid Camera.”
Mimi just laughed at me when I was saying 26 more days till I leave work and then went utterly still and deathly pale. No, no, no it can’t be right, after so many years I can’t be leaving work to become a mother…..because that means I have to push this wiggly moving somersaulting thing out of me…..and responsible for a new life….and my dream finally coming true…can it really be real?
“Long deep breaths, long deep breaths….oh fuck…lush green fields, lush green field…oh shit that isn’t helping…little valley near a creak, little valley near a creak…OMG”
I must be going through life with my eyes wide shut, during my IF / TTC time I never thought of being and staying pregnant…never thought beyond the next blood test, next u/s, and next cycle. So you can imagine my total shock of going to OB appointments where I have certificates saying I’m attending “For Management of Pregnancy”….Management of Pregnancy me…yeah right. I still can’t believe that tonight again I’m attending another pre-natal class; all the bruising in my arms indicated that I still pinch myself in disbelief.
If by now I haven’t got my head around being pregnant, imagine how I haven’t even had a wavering thought of the birth and life after. By attending the class, I feel as though I’m just going through the motions. I’m almost waiting for someone to run up to me with a camera saying “Candid Camera.”
Mimi just laughed at me when I was saying 26 more days till I leave work and then went utterly still and deathly pale. No, no, no it can’t be right, after so many years I can’t be leaving work to become a mother…..because that means I have to push this wiggly moving somersaulting thing out of me…..and responsible for a new life….and my dream finally coming true…can it really be real?
“Long deep breaths, long deep breaths….oh fuck…lush green fields, lush green field…oh shit that isn’t helping…little valley near a creak, little valley near a creak…OMG”
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