Quest for Comfort

For the past six or seven weeks (actually, probably even more), I've been trying to get Adam to take a dummy. I am very aware that he needs the comfort and know that it would help him settle. I remember Emily refusing her dummy to start with, we tried Tommee Tippee and then realised Avent was the teat she preferred and she has used them ever since. For the past year and a half she has only used a dummy to sleep. I am keen for her to stop using one now but considering it's only used at night, am not currently too fussed.

So when Adam didn't take to a dummy right away, I thought it was a similar story. I bought both Tommee Tippee and Avent dummies from the get go this time, I thought I was prepared. Both make him gag and retch. I kept trying and eventually stopped, thinking that maybe he's just a baby who doesn't need a dummy.

Then last week, things suddenly changed. He began desperately sucking on his wrist in order to settle and get to sleep. He thrashes about looking for a teat, but rejects milk. It got to a point where he took an empty bottle and sucked on that for dear life. Not ideal considering all the air he was swallowing, so I didn't do it again - but it told me one thing: he does want a dummy, and he wants one that has a teat that is similar to his bottle teats.

Simple, right?

It would be if only such dummies were easy to find! A shout out on Facebook and a bit more research got me some info. What I'd need are Avent Soothies (which are typically an American dummy), Gumdrops, or a dummy with a plush toy attached called a WubbaNub. I've ordered the last two but Soothies (which are the main ones I want) remain out of reach, with a number of friends now trying to source them in the UK. It seems that they just don't exist in Malta.

So as I wait, the situation is rapidly getting worse. Adam won't sleep unless we hold him, and even then he is often screaming and thrashing about wanting to suck on something. I actually offered him a breast yesterday, I was desperate, but that obviously didn't work either (I guess he has no clue what to do with that anymore).

He is developing a very bad habit of taking a bit more milk to get him off to sleep - the only thing that works now that he's realised it's the only way he'll get something so suck on. But of course that starts a vicious cycle of milk, wind, wake up, need more comfort (read: milk), wind, wake up, etc. I am so frustrated to not be able to offer him the comfort he needs. And so angry at Malta for its limited stock availability.

I am pinning all my hopes on a few dummies that are slowly making their way to me in the post. If these don't work, I don't know what else I can do.

My Daily Obstacle Course (or The One About Maltese Pavements)

People are constantly asking me how I'm settling back in to life in Malta. And the truth is I'm doing very well, all things considered. I'm even adjusting to the ridiculous price tags on things I'm used to paying peanuts for (well, realistically, I just buy everything online now). But there's one thing that is proving far more difficult to adjust to than anything else. Something that affects my every day, every errand I need to run, every outing I treat the kids to... every. little. bloody. thing.

The pavements.

And you'll recall that I've already mentioned these wretched pavements ("I miss pavements that don't have telephone poles and trees growing out of the middle of them. I miss ramps. I miss a society that acknowledges children and buggies. I miss not having to get into the car to go just about anywhere.")

But just in case anyone doesn't believe me, and to demonstrate exactly how bad they are, I was the weirdo walking around the streets of Attard* taking random street pictures the other day. Most of these pictures were taken in ONE street, Triq Sant' Anton.

Needless to say, a situation that is bad is further aggravated by stupid people...

(The truck and car are parked right over the two ramps I can use to get the buggy into the supermarket. )

Now look at these and imagine attempting to push a buggy along a pavement. What a joke. Then imagine being a person confined to a wheelchair. Because I know that in a few years time, a buggy won't be an issue for me any longer. But if there were something wrong with my legs, it wouldn't be that simple at all.

These pictures are quite simply evidence of a society that disregards anyone who chooses not to use a car to get further than 3 metres away from their home. And it's absolutely disgusting.

* These pavements are in no way limited to Attard. It just happened to be the place I took the pictures that day. Some places are (a little bit) better, most are similar or sadly, even worse.

Sigh.

One Cognitive Hypnotherapy Session Later

Way back when my gynae was trying to convince me I needed a c-section, and before I realised that it was all a big joke, I set about trying to get past my phobia of needles. It seemed like the wise thing to do considering that there was surgery on the horizon.

I wasn't always needle phobic. I believe it began when I was about ten years old. I was quite ill and needed tests. Lots of tests because the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me. They never quite worked it out either but that's neither here nor there. So there were tests. And I was young and I was scared. And there were some nurses who didn't stop to think that maybe, just maybe, a scared ten year old might need a bit more patience. Instead, I was told to stop acting like a baby and that if I didn't cooperate they'd call in many big men to hold me down while they took my blood.

I can almost see the look on your face as you read that. I've seen it often enough. Who tells a ten year old that? Well, a couple nurses did and over the years the memory has grown and grown in my mind until it got to a point where I couldn't even think of a needle without having a panic attack, and where I was physically unable to outstretch my arms completely because the crook of my elbow would be open and that area of my arm freaks me out. I was unable to touch it at all, let alone allow anyone else to. That is the extent to which it affected me over the years.

Needless to say, pregnancy with a phobia of needles isn't easy either. I somehow dealt with the anxiety to have my first set of bloods done each time but I was never able to have my 20-week tests done in either pregnancy.

But then there was the probability of a c-section and a great big epidural needle. Not to mention pre-op bloods etc etc. Holy cow. I panicked for weeks. I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this one.

Then, a pregnant friend on twitter mentioned that Dawn had helped her deal with labour pain and other issues through Hypnotherapy. I had never tweeted Dawn before but I did that day and we got chatting. Then we scheduled a Skype appointment to try and help me deal with my needle phobia. Dawn was sure she could help me.

Now I'm a huge believer in the power of the mind. I wasn't going into this a cynic. But my needle phobia was a huge thing, and a part of me wasn't sure I'd get very far. But I figured that if it made even a slight dent in the phobia, it would be worth it.

So we got chatting. Dawn is very easy to talk to, she's friendly and helpful and I'd say it's impossible not to relax in her presence (even if virtual). She ran me through a few mental exercises and explained the power of my sub-conscious and the way it was causing and controlling the phobia, and half an hour later we said our goodbyes and we ended the call.

I wondered whether it had made any difference and I also wondered how and whether I'd have an opportunity to test it out before the c-section.

A few days later, I was watching One Born Every Minute and being the birthing show it is, someone was being given an epidural. As per usual, my hand flew up to cover my eyes - I can never normally watch anything like that. But I was distracted and too slow to react, and I realised (with my eyes covered) that I'd actually seen the needle that time. And yet I was fine.

What?!

I realised that I could outstretch my arms.
And I could talk about the issue with friends and not have to calm a racing heart afterwards.
Or be flushed as I spoke.
Friends couldn't help but notice the difference too.

The change was big.

Now we know of course that I didn't actually need the c-section in the end, but I did need two injections during Adam's birth. Both were optional, and yet I had no issue with them. I even watched them give me the shots. I watched that needle go into my thigh both times. I accompanied Adam for his jabs with no nerves whatsoever. And I plan to have the flu jab next winter.

Even David is slightly dumbfounded at the change in me.

I'm not about to go running to get pricked to test it out, and I suspect that if I knew I needed any bloods taken, I might ask Dawn for a refresher session - but my point is, it made a difference. To whatever extent, it worked. A simple half hour of mental exercises helped shift a huge obstacle for me. There's no reason it couldn't work for other things too.

Dawn's website is Think It Change It

Little People Chores

Emily loves helping. She's at that age where I can ask her to do something I hate doing and she will be thrilled to do it because it means she's helping out. She "helps" with Adam's nappy changes - it is her job to hand me a nappy. And the more clothes he's soiled the better - it means she has more to pop into the laundry basket. She has a broom and a vacuum cleaner ("just like you's Mummy!"), and if I give her a cloth and ask her to dust, it's as if I've just handed her the world.

Her latest task is matching up pairs of socks. I pass her a messy pile of freshly laundered socks and ask her to organise them. She loves it because she's helping, plus it's a game, plus she gets told she's clever. Win-win!

I'll be reminding her of all this when she's a grumpy teenager who refuses to do anything...

Dear Adam

My dearest Smiling Boy

Two months old already. I have no idea how we got here so fast, it seems like yesterday I held you in my arms for the first time and fell in love all over again. Since then, we've been through a lot together, it's not always been the smoothest ride but we've pulled through, you and me, and we're good buddies now.

You are so easygoing and happy, so ready to smile - even when you're crying. I can see you being one of those people to always try and see the good in everything, the peacemaker, that person everyone loves to have around. You already have the ability to make anyone smile. One look into your big, big eyes that are so desperately trying to talk to us - it's hard to look away.

You especially love it when anyone wriggles their eyebrows at you. You've found this hilarious for weeks. And recently you've begun rewarding us with babbles and chuckles. Nappy changes are some of your most sociable times. You watch me intently as I clean you up, trying to hold your chubby legs in one place (unsuccessfully... I knew the strength of your arms and legs even before you were born), and then you treat me to a huge gummy smile. It makes my day every time.

Watching you and Emily together fills my heart with joy. Your eyes take in everything, you track her across a room as she sings to you and tries to entertain you. Then she wanders over to kiss and hug you - often clumsily - and yet you smile patiently. "It's Emily, it's alright," your eyes seem to be saying. I am so excited to know a time will come where you will actively be able to play together. I hope you'll be the best of friends.

Keep smiling, my beautiful boy. And don't grow too fast. Give me chance to savour every little moment of you.

With love always,
Mummy x