Adam's Birth Story, Part II

Disclaimer: I won't try to deny it. This is a birth story, there will be talk of things some people find disgusting, even unmentionable. You are free to read on, or you are free to close the window now. It's your choice and I take no responsibility for it!

[Read Part I]

So we slept. And just before 3am, I woke up to use the loo, just like I always did. I stumbled into the ensuite in darkness (the only way I could afterwards ensure I'd get back to sleep), and sat on the loo. Something felt weird. Something wasn't right. This was way too much wee. And it didn't seem to be coming out of the right place either. I sat there wondering what to do - darkness and semi-conscious state not helping. I'd worn a maternity pad the night before because of the bleeding, which came in useful. I decided there's no way this could be my waters, so I got back up and tried to get back to bed.

I barely made it to the bathroom door and my pj trousers were drenched. I think I may have stood there, light now on, wondering what to do for a few moments. I stared at myself in the mirror, confused. I'd mentioned it several times before to friends - I didn't think there was any chance of my waters breaking early this time. Despite the "Hollywood Gush" we so often see in movies, it's actually a very small percentage of pregnancies where labour starts off with waters breaking. It had already happened to me with Emily. There was no way it would happen again.

Wrong.

This time, at least, David wasn't two hours away and unreachable.

I shouted his name and he was awake. "I think my waters have broken." (Stupid statement of the year right there.) "I don't know what to do, should I call the midwife?"

No, I called my mother. I couldn't bring myself to wake a relative stranger up at 3am. My mother encouraged me to call her, and the midwife, Anna, knew it was me right away. She asked me to head to hospital just to monitor baby and ensure all was well, as I wasn't yet contracting although I could feel that the cramps had gotten slightly worse. The plan of action was to meet her there after my mother arrived to take care of Emily

Emily. Oh God. I couldn't leave her, I couldn't do this. Adrenaline pumping through my body, I began shaking uncontrollably (I remembered this well from last time) and couldn't think straight. I decided it was the right time to bring some more of Emily's books out of the storage bags they'd been in for weeks. Yes, that irrational.

I then dressed up and ate an apple. I went into Emily's room to say bye and whisper an explanation to her sleeping self, trying not to cry. And I waited for my mother to get here.

The first contraction hit around 4am as I got into the car, but there were no others after it, just cramps. We got to the hospital and all I could think of was the amazing smell of baking bread coming from the bakers' in the pjazza.

At around 5am, Anna checked me and I was 2cm dilated. Good start, considering it was on the back of just one proper contraction. We considered going back home to wait until the contractions really kicked in, but with rush hour looming and my instincts telling me I should stay put (they haven't failed me once recently), we decided to stay.

I wanted an active birth this time so I stood back up and that was when the contractions began in earnest. We never got round to timing them this time, not properly anyway. There was a point where we acknowledged that, hmm they were coming quicker now, but I was coping well, many times carrying on the conversation through contractions, and tweeting in between. If I laid down or sat down, the contractions stopped. Once I stood back up, they came back with a vengeance. Not your typical labour, but it was certainly happening.

By 6am I was at about 5.5cm and still coping very well. My TENS machine wasn't even out of it's bag yet. I wasn't quite talking through contractions any longer though. I randomly mentioned to David that I had a feeling we would be done by 9am.

By 8am I was at 8cm, but getting very tired and annoyed at myself for going to bed so late. The Lucozade was what kept me going, and I finally asked for the TENS. I know I was also aware that Emily would now be awake and I suspect this put me on edge slightly.

And then transition. At this point, things changed. I started saying (daft) things I have no recollection of, and I began to lose confidence. Anna had explained that although he was engaged, Adam wasn't low enough. This is possibly what made Emily's second stage last so long too. So she had to help him out a little bit with every contraction. I was in no mood to cooperate, especially because this hurt more than the contractions themselves.

I started feeling the need to push, but I was stuck at 9.5cm, so more help. For most of third stage, I was squatting, leaning against David. As had happened with Emily, my contractions weren't strong enough so I was given a Syntometrine injection to help things along (as well as to ensure my placenta delivered this time), and another one soon after as the first wasn't doing enough. I asked David to get the TENS off me, damn wire kept getting tangled in my arm.

Soon I was too tired to stay on my feet any longer. All I wanted to do was curl up and sleep. I know the thought crossed my mind to ask everyone to leave at one point. I just wanted to be done with it, I was bored of being in pain, fed up, and just so very tired.

Suddenly I noticed everyone getting excited. He was coming. What? We hadn't been at this for hours yet! Somewhere deep inside, something woke up and helped me through that last bit. Within a few pushes, his head was out, then his body, then suddenly - what seemed to be out of nowhere - I was holding my beautiful, vernixy, wailing baby. And I fell in love all over again. Madly.

I asked David what time it was. He checked his watch. "What time did you say he'd be here by?" "Nine," I replied. "It's 8:58!" I had been pushing for all of about 25 minutes.

My placenta delivered within minutes - a moment full of relief after over two hours of waiting last time! We had asked Anna earlier for the cord to be left to pulsate before it was cut, and when it did stop, David again wasn't keen to cut it, so I did instead (and quite pleased about it too!)

Adam was still screaming away, we managed some skin to skin but he wasn't pinking up fast enough so he was transferred to an incubator for a while until he warmed up enough. In the meantime I was given the happy news that I needed no stitches and tried to relax, but the contractions kept going and were getting worse again. About an hour later, several very large blood clots were delivered (!) and then it all thankfully calmed down.

We had a room ready for me and Adam next door, and were eager to be transferred there, but I needed a shower first. I looked like I was part of a murder investigation. I felt fine so Anna helped me up and into the shower and suddenly, everything almost went black. So quickly back to bed it was and I had a quick flannel wash and then really quickly moved next door (near black out again). Some lunch solved the problem but I was unable to get back out of bed on my own until very late that evening, simply due to being too achey!

I am told that one of the things I kept going on about during transition was the lack of perfection. I wasn't doing it well, it wasn't as perfect as it should have been, I should be doing this, I should be doing that. I don't even recall saying these things so I can't possibly begin to understand what I was on about, but looking back, if there was anything this birth was, it was perfect. I am so pleased to have fought for this and to have been given the chance to do it all over again. And more than anything, I am grateful to the people who supported me in getting a natural birth, safely, and for delivering my beautiful son to my arms.

Adam John

Born 21st March 2013 at 8:58am

Weighing 3.4kg / 7lbs 5oz

With special thanks to the team at St James Hospital, Zabbar,

my parents and in-laws for taking care of Emily while we were "checking Mummy's tummy",

and of course, my super, amazing husband for being a rock and never leaving my side.

Adam's Birth Story, Part I

Disclaimer: I won't try to deny it. This is a birth story, there will be talk of things some people find disgusting, even unmentionable. You are free to read on, or you are free to close the window now. It's your choice and I take no responsibility for it!

The morning of Wednesday 20th March, I woke up in an excellent mood. That was the day I should have been going under the knife in a planned c-section had my original gynae had her way. I had escaped it and I felt supported by so many friends, family members and medics alike, and finally I even felt confident again that my body could do the job it was designed to do. I was having an "I am woman, hear me roar" day. To top it off, I had even had a good night's sleep, only having woken once to use the loo (as opposed to the three and sometimes even four times of more recent nights).

I then went to the bathroom before breakfast and realised I'd had a show, and there was fresh blood. I took this as a good sign. Emily's show involved old blood and she was born a week later. Considering my cervix was already well on its way to being fully effaced the Saturday before (when my midwife told me she didn't quite think I'd make it until my appointment on the 23rd), I took it as a sign that things were happening. I even told David to ensure he'd handed things over at work, just in case.

See, 21st March was my gut feeling day. I'd even noted it in the due date sweepstakes a few weeks before. My mother also had a feeling it would be that day, and when her work got cancelled for the rest of March a few days earlier, thus freeing her schedule completely, our gut feeling grew substantially. Sometimes the universe just knows.

Emily and I had an excellent day that day, just chilling out and having fun. There were no arguments, just fun times. I fell asleep in the afternoon and she let me sleep well beyond her own nap time. She waited for me, reading in her dark room, and then greeted me with a big hug and a kiss. It was the perfect day, and all the more perfect - unbeknownst to us - because it was the last day we'd spend together as just us girls.

I reinforced what we'd already been telling her for several weeks throughout the day: "Soon, it will be time for Adam to come out of Mummy's tummy, so Mummy and Daddy will go to the doctor and Emily will have fun with Nannu and Nanna." It was language she understood, having explained it to us in those (almost exact) words herself. We didn't dare drift too far from what she understood, and it paid off. She'd then carry on and excitedly tell me about how we'd put him in his little cot, and especially about how he would be bringing her a present.

David got home and we bathed her and read her favourite book, The Tiger Who Came to Tea, and put her to bed, all the while very much aware we may not be there to do so the next day. I'd been having very particular cramping throughout the day, and a few very strong Braxton Hicks (although no regularity whatsoever), and the bleeding continued.

We then chilled out and watched the last few episodes of Mr Selfridge and then remembered it was Grey's Anatomy night so we watched that too. We went to bed at midnight (in hindsight, not the smartest of moves), and on my way, as usual, I stopped by Emily's room where I completely lost my cool and started crying. On some level, I knew she wouldn't be my only baby after that night and my heart broke a little bit. I was grateful for the fun day we'd had together, but I was worried about her reaction, and worried that she may be upset when she didn't find us there in the morning. I shrugged it off, gave her a quiet kiss, and went to bed.

[Read Part II]

Then There Were Four

It turned out I didn't have too long to wait. I'll go into detail when I write up his birth story, but for now, suffice it to say that Adam arrived ten days early on Thursday 21st March 2013 at 8:58am, weighing 3.4kg / 7lbs 5oz. It was the natural birth I had fought for.

Emily has met him and is as much in love with him as we are. And if I was ever concerned about not bonding with him, I needn't have worried. It all fell into place within seconds of his birth and all I want to do is hold and cuddle him.

Welcome to the world, little man :)

[Read Adam's Birth Story here]

Dear Baby A

I've wanted to write this letter for a long time, and yet I can never quite find the words. The words still aren't there now, but the feelings finally are. It's been a hard pregnancy, though not in the traditional way. It's been full of change and big, sometimes difficult, emotions to deal with. I've cried lots, and I've ignored your playful dancing at times, waving it away - I'm too busy to enjoy this. But lately, now that we're settling in and the worst of it all is behind us, I have slowly come to appreciate your clumsy tumbling around, and I have taken note of your sleep patterns and your excitable reaction to your sister's voice.

Slowly, you have become a person to me. You're not just an annoying bump that has made the move so much more impractical, so much more frustrating. You are a living, loving, playful little boy. You seem to have my nose and your Daddy's love for football (or whatever sport it is you're practicing in there). You adore your big sister already and she loves showering you with hugs and kisses, and "checking" in on you with various play doctor's equipment, making you react to her often cold hands.

And it's become exciting again. Just as it was in the beginning, when we knew we wanted you so badly. And when we found out you were on the way. And when the pregnancy turned out to be so much easier than your sister's was. Before I forgot to be excited because so much else took over, and needed to be dealt with. And I'm sorry about it, I really am. I promise I'll make up for it all with so many cuddles and kisses once you're in my arms, you won't know what's hit you.

I'm eager and I'm excited. I want to know what you look like, what you feel like. I want to discover how completely different you are to Emily (I already know you are!) and get to know you in your own right. I want to watch you and her get to know each other, learn each other's ways and adapt to each other.

So whenever you're ready, Little A, you needn't be scared to join the fold. We're looking forward to getting to know you.

-----
Don't forget to have a guess at Baby A's arrival date and weight here!

Baby Sweepstakes II

It's that time in pregnancy again. Feels like just last week I was organising sweepstakes for Emily's arrival! But now that I've been given the all-clear for a natural delivery (placenta has been hugely cooperative and has moved well out of the way, even by Maltese standards (long story)), when Baby A will turn up is anyone's guess!

I'll be 37 weeks on Sunday, and due on 31st March, so let's get guessing. You can guess date of birth and weight, or just date, or just weight. Up to you. It's just for fun. (Use metric or imperial - whichever you're more comfortable with)

Winners will get a shout out on twitter and facebook. (I'm too kind, I know.)



Here are the facts you may want to know:
I'm 5'3"
Emily was born 5 days early and weighed 6lb10oz / 3kg
According to my scan at 36+2 weeks, Baby A is currently estimated to weigh 6lbs6oz / 2.9kg and is measuring a few days ahead

Now for some comparison pictures...

Yikes! So now it's over to you. Have fun and be nice to me!! 

Packed

Ladies and Gentlemen

At almost 36 weeks into this pregnancy, I have finally been able to pack my hospital bags. General advice is that they are packed by 28 or so weeks. With Emily, they were packed by 25 (and repacked, and repacked, and repacked some more). This time, I was going slightly insane knowing I had nothing ready, then the Big Boat arrived (more about this later) and at long last I had access to my stuff. Yet still it took days until I could gather enough from various boxes and bags to create the hospital bag I needed.

Last night, when Mr Braxton Hicks was in a particularly teasing mood, David asked me to go get packed, "just in case." I didn't want to tempt fate much longer so I listened, and that's what brings us to today. I am packed. Baby A's crib is built, as is his changing unit (See what I did there? Aren't I such a tease?!) He is due in 4 weeks' time but I don't really believe he'll wait that long. We shall see. But until then, whenever he decides to make an appearance, I'm finally ready for him!

And relax.

Waiting

If I had a penny (or Euro cent... need to get used to this!!) for every time someone told me I was brave to move country with a toddler and so close to the birth of my second child... well, I'd have a few more pounds to my name than I do. I did what I had to do and just got on with it. It was this or miss out on the valuable support system in those first few months of Squiggle's life, which I thought would have been silly.

However, with approximately seven short weeks of pregnancy left, things are becoming intense. Months ago, knowing that I had about five weeks to prepare for this baby once the container arrived with our belongings from the UK seemed enough. But when you're this close to those last five weeks and you're worn out and so constantly uncomfortable that you can barely get any sleep and Braxton Hicks don't quite stop reminding you of what's imminent, it doesn't seem like much time at all any longer.

And yet I feel that it hasn't yet dawned on me that I'll soon have a newborn. The kicks are real (you want to watch that video!!), we have finally settled on a name for Squiggle, and we marvel at the way he reacts to Emily's voice and her very touch on my belly... And yet, it's all fuzzy as if embedded in a cloud light years away.

Then I realise that by this time last pregnancy, all Emily's clothes were washed and waiting in her perfectly planned nursery, my hospital bag was packed (and had been unpacked and repacked several times), NCT classes were well under way, the Moses basket was waiting for her arrival. I had daily visual reminders. This time, so far, nothing.

And as much as it started out much easier than my last pregnancy, this one is ending very differently. So a part of me just wants the discomfort to end. I wish this baby would decide it's fine to be born really early (as long as he's healthy and all that), but the other part of me kicks that first part because I cannot be thinking it. I need time to prepare for this baby. I need to find some time to allow it to feel real. To go through the preparations, the nesting, the caring, the excitement. Because thus far, I feel a little bit like a surrogate mother. And apart from the fact that it hurts me on a level I can barely begin to understand let alone explain, I feel like I owe this little boy quite a bit more than that.

Ten days to the estimated arrival date of our belongings... Come on, we can do this. 

[image credit]

Naming Squiggle

I received a press release about baby names the other day. Apparently, these were the top twenty UK baby names for 2012, according to babynames.co.uk:

Ethan, Eva, Leo, Dylan, Jacob, Oliver, Noah, Ella, Alfie, Amelia,
Mia, Isla, Max, Charlie, Alice, Joshua, Jack, Oscar, Isabella, Imogen

Colour me relieved to see Emily didn't make an appearance in there this year, after being 5th in 2011. FIFTH! I don't regret calling her Emily at all, but I know she'll complain about being one of so many down the line. Then again, she'd have complained had I named her Philomena too (no it was never an option) so I guess I could point that out to her when she does. 

We have settled on a name for Squiggle. Want to know what it is?

Did you catch it? :) It's not a common name in the UK, but it's listed in this popular baby names in Malta list (which is, admittedly, quite long). Still, I don't think it should be a huge issue. 

While looking up that last link, I came across this... Names from Malta. It made me giggle. I can appreciate that some of those "names" may sound beautiful to a foreigner, but fellow Maltese... can you imagine naming your child Addolorata, Marsa or Xewqa?!


[Edit Jan 2013: I don't mean to be difficult, but the name has since changed. It will be announced once he's born ;)]

Recently

Part of the reason I haven't blogged much this past month is that we spent two weeks of it in Malta. While we were there, we found a place to live, bought a car, chose a school for Emily, and a gynaecologist for me (to anyone thinking about it, I do not recommend switching health providers mid-pregnancy), and opened bank accounts. I think there was more, but it's like a small whirlwind in my head at the moment. Suffice it to say, we've been busy.

But here are a few snapshots from the last few weeks.

We've had little pampering sessions. Can't get over how long her hair is. She loved swishing it around.

We did the cool sunglasses thing whilst in Malta...

...Everywhere we went!

No comment (I couldn't resist).

Her eggbox is now her "compter." She turns it around and types emails on it

and informs me she is "bizzy emails compter, Mommay" I wouldn't dare disturb.

Meanwhile, as if I didn't have enough to do already, I am also planning her 2nd birthday party!

(I'm loving it really!!)

Baby Boy Sighting

How could I forget?

We had our 22 week scan last week! Here is Baby Boy...

He is doing very well, estimated to weigh about a pound and a half, hands constantly up by his face. And very much a boy. (Phew!)

Placenta is low-lying which may eventually prove to be a problem if it stays that way. Despite the sonographer telling me not to worry about it because it will probably move up by full term, I did of course worry for a while (and then consulted Dr Google... big mistake!), but pretty much over it now. However this little boy will need to be born, as long as both me and him are ok to enjoy newborn snuggles afterwards, I'll deal with it. Get me! ;)

Half Baked

Sunday was the 20-week point in my pregnancy. I'm not quite sure where the last ten weeks have gone. Last I remember, I was thinking to myself that it was all going very slowly and I had no idea what everyone meant when they said second pregnancies flew past. And then it happened.

I still cannot believe how lucky I got this time round. When I think that by this point last pregnancy, I had had to stop working and I was still constantly nauseous and desperately lacking energy.

This time, I still sometimes forget I'm pregnant. Sure, my bump is getting pretty huge and Squiggle makes his presence felt a lot, but when he's quiet I can forget. Energy levels are good until after dinner, there's no nausea, and even the hip pain that had set in properly by this time with Emily is only just starting to creep in.

Having said that, he's not often quiet. Since I hit week 18, the movement has been almost constant. I already know his sleeping patterns (and if they remain this way, God help me), and as of this weekend, David has been able to feel the kicks too. For those not in the know, it is still insanely early in the pregnancy for that to be happening!

The downside to this pregnancy has been - and remains - the heartburn. I have never known pain like it, and it feels ridiculous to refer to it as pain, but there's no other word. It engulfs my entire being, and even my beloved Peptac only works for 15 minutes if I'm lucky. But this too shall pass.

Meanwhile I am already hopelessly excited to meet my little boy, and what with all that's coming my way in the next four months, I don't think it will feel like forever before it does happen!

Organised Chaos

I've been busy. All my spare time has recently been spent on ebay. Box upon box of girls' clothes being listed to sell. I have spent so much time sorting through these boxes I even dream about how best to go about organising it all. I woke up on Monday feeling like a genius because, in a dream, I came up with the best way to do it. Insane, I tell you.

But it is with great pleasure that I can now say the boxes have gone from this:

(all girls' clothes to sort through)

to this:

Now, you may say there's not much difference (and I can see what you'd mean). Oh but there is! The boxes in the second picture contain no girls' clothes whatsoever (save for one box which is full of summer clothes that I will ebay off closer to summer), and I know that all I have left to ebay off are three moderately sized heaps of clothes (one of which can be seen in the last picture). 

So my head feels more organised. 

Yes I am a lunatic.

All is Revealed

If I'm honest, I lost track of the guessing game in the end. So many last minute votes came flooding in through facebook (personal and blog pages) and twitter, I'm not sure I quite kept up! However, as much fun as it all was, none of it matters anymore because we know what flavour Squiggle actually is...

Squiggle is a boy! :D

So David and I need to get down to some serious name choosing. Twice now we've had girl names ready, but even last time, we were never entirely sure about boy names. This is going to be very interesting... [Edit 28.10.12 Scratch that, we've chosen a name!]

I am so thrilled, it feels like a first pregnancy all over again - a completely new experience! I feel strangely complete.



PS: Anyone with little girls, keep an eye on Emily's Closet - it's about to explode with new listings over the coming weeks!!!

Log Your Guesses

I am aware that I never even wrote about my 12 week scan this time. Poor Squiggle is certainly getting less pregnancy attention than Emily did. However, it was slightly overshadowed by the fact that Emily moaned and squirmed throughout, thought they were torturing me and kept coming over to ask if I was alright (in a whimpery voice). I wish I could have been able to fully focus on what was going on in the scan, but everything was fine and that was all that was important really.

Unfortunately, the sonographer we had this time refused to even try and have a guess at the gender. With Emily, we knew at her 12 week scan that she was probably a girl. I didn't start buying things, but it helped with bonding. Now with Squiggle, there is even less bonding than there was with Emily (mostly because she keeps me so busy and also because it's a much better pregnancy so I sometimes forget I'm actually pregnant) and not being able to give him/her even the slightest identity isn't helping. 

Soooo... David has decided to treat me for my birthday next week (yes, next week!), and we will be having a Gender Scan in 10 days time. My next NHS scan is at the end of November, and frankly I'm impatient to find out so it was an ideal birthday pressie ;)

To help you along, here are some pregnancy comparisons:

Emily: I suffered from morning, afternoon, evening sickness from week 3 until it calmed down around week 22.
Squiggle: I can't really say I've suffered from any pregnancy sickness. My sense of smell is more sensitive which sometimes makes me sick (*cough*toxic nappies*cough*) but I had that with Emily too, minus the nappies.

Emily: Heartburn hit in the last 3 weeks of pregnancy.
Squiggle: Heartburn began very, very early on and hasn't calmed down at all. I dread those last 3 weeks!

Emily: Bump began showing around week 14. This is probably due to it having been my first pregnancy and the fact that I was a dress size larger.
Squiggle: Bump showed by week 6 and hasn't looked back. They do say you pop earlier with second pregnancies, and I had a bit less "padding" to camouflage this time.

I can't say I've noticed a difference in bump shape.

Emily: I craved mango.
Squiggle: No real cravings to speak of.

Emily: My hair loved pregnancy. It grew strong and shiny.
Squiggle: My hair hates pregnancy. What it has done most of so far is fall out.

Emily: Stretchmarks began to show up within the first month.
Squiggle: No new stretchmarks. Hooray!


So what do we think, folks? Pink or Blue? Leave a comment with your guess, all will be revealed on the 29th October!

[image cred: 5 Ways to Guess an Unborn Baby's Gender]

Bump!

I will actually write about this pregnancy one of these days.

I have notes scribbled in a notebook that lives on my bedside table
(I always get bloggy ideas just as I'm falling asleep),

but have yet to put it all together to make some sense. Bear with me!

PS. Bump is currently bigger than it was last time at 19 weeks!

Dear Emily (Twenty Months)

Dear Emily

My beautiful, affectionate, friendly Emily. You're twenty months today. Twenty months of my life being turned upside down and my heart feeling emotions it could never have imagined.

In six short months, you'll become a big sister. This fills me with excitement, nerves and turmoil. How dare anyone come into our lives and let me have less time with you? And yet, when I mention your little brother or sister to you (a sister, you insist), your face lights up and you lean down to kiss my belly. You understand far more of what is going on than I give you credit for. And seeing that gives me hope: if it's ok with you, then it can be ok with me too We'll do this, altogether, our amazing family of four. We'll have wonderful adventures together and I'll look back and wonder what on earth I was on about when I wrote the beginning of this paragraph.

You understand so much that dropping you off at the childminder has suddenly become a nightmare. Although from what I hear, you stop crying before I have, you cheeky monkey. But if you have your way, you won't let go of me, I wouldn't walk into a different room, I wouldn't even be allowed a toilet break. When you're on the brink of sleep, you wake up, panicked, crying for me. It's tiring but I'm trying my best to be patient about it. After all it's only because you love me so much.

You give the best hugs. And the gentlest kisses. Random kisses, like when you take my hand and kiss my fingers over dinner, just because. Or sometimes you.ll get down on your little knees and kiss my toes. Completely unexpectedly. Completely adorable. And then "thank you Mummy."

Words are no problem to you. This week we've moved on to sentences. Three or four words strung together, making perfect sense. "I like colour" was your very first sentence, as you headed over to your little table to do some colouring.

But as much as I can have entire conversations with you, there are some words that you've created crazy versions of.

Bly (butterfly)
Feckist (breakfast)
Vesen (seven)
Lalloo (flower)
Maimow (rainbow, oh how you love rainbows!)

You'll dance to anything. A funny, one-legged, jumpy dance that you are so very proud of. Everyone who meets you falls for your charm, and everyone gets treated to the jumpy dance.

I could write forever. You surprise me with something new and we discover new little secrets to your personality every day. It's never disappointing.

Keep smiling, my princess.

Mummy x

Squiggle

:)

Thank you for all the wonderful comments of congratulations. I let the announcement post bask in the limelight for the rest of the week because nothing else seemed to be able to top or even match it! But now it's time to carry on, and I'll do a little pregnancy round-up before carrying on with regular posts.


We found out about this pregnancy while we were in Malta. Our families and close friends all knew from day one. It would have been silly to leave the island not having told them (not that I'd have been able to keep it secret long enough anyway).

Despite being very excited, the first few weeks were laced with dread, with a ridiculous dose of positive thinking. I believed that if I thought it away enough, I'd have no morning sickness this time.

Readers who were around when I was pregnant with Emily might remember just how bad it was that time - and how long it lasted. I was at the time (perhaps jokingly, but often not) advised by people not to bother with a second pregnancy. I, perhaps naively, kept hoping my next would be the pregnancy I'd always hoped for: one I could enjoy.

I always knew I wanted two children. Even that amount of pregnancy sickness wasn't going to put me off, I think it would be selfish of me to deny Emily a sibling just because of a "few" (me in 2010 would kick myself for saying that) months of sickness. In the grand scheme of things, that's a silly thing to use as a deciding factor. Having said that, I have no idea how I would have coped with that amount of sickness as well as a toddler to take care of. I am already struggling enough to keep up with her simply because I'm still so tired most of the time.

I am now in my tenth week of pregnancy. Sickness with Emily began in week 3 and began calming down somewhere around week 23. I have not yet needed to run to the bathroom, nor have I needed that bucket that so loyally waited by my bedside - day and night - when pregnant with Emily. Lately some kitchen smells have made me think I might be sick, but nothing yet. I remain hopeful.

So to all the people who advised that I shouldn't even try to get pregnant again, there are a few words in my mind that I'd like to say to you, but I'm nice so I won't. Sure I'm tired. Ok, I'm exhausted. Emily has born the brunt of it - for which I feel terrible and am really trying to be as patient and as entertaining as I could possibly be. Sometimes it's way more difficult than others, but she is easily pleased and I'm sure I'll be able to make it up to her in a few months' time.

We had an early scan done last week. Want to see 2cm long Squiggle?

(See how I was even nice enough to specify what you're meant to be looking at?)

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Emily has a little secret she'd like to share with you all...

...almost there...

Yay!

A new little baby is due to join our family at the end of March 2013!
I'll update more later, but suffice to say, we are absolutely thrilled
(and I'm no good at keeping these things secret!!!)