Story of a baby

After a happy, globetrotting pregnancy, our little baby was born.

And as the doctors stitched me up …

… they made sure she was okay.

I fell in love with her immediately (something I didn’t expect).

We started getting to know her, as she started to get to know the world.

Just like other babies, she spends some time crying:

But mostly she’s asleep, cuddly and adorable.

She has her father’s feet,

and my eyes.

Sometimes looking after her is exhausting,

but it’s always worth it, especially when she smiles like this.

Getting our car seat checked

I wrote about Choosing the right car seat a while ago, but we didn’t get around to getting it checked till this week. We’d installed the car seat ourselves and drove to the Orrong Service Centre in Windsor. Our friends have warned that that it would cost anything from $30 – $50 and it ended up costing us $7. Yayyy! Well, it only took the guy 30seconds, since we’d already installed it ourselves, so I suppose it was only fair!!

Anyway, I asked our friendly installer person how many people actually got the car seat in right and didn’t need any adjustments, and he said that he had been working there for 14 years and had seen less than 10. Yikes.

So people, please, please get the car seat checked. Chances are, you probably don’t have it on right. If not for you, then for your child’s safety. It will cost less than a meal. Especially if you at least try and get the car seat set up yourself. I’m sure if you call around you’ll find a certified fitter (in Victoria) who will be willing to charge you a reasonable amount. Trust me, you don’t want to be a car accident with a dodgy car seat!

In appreciation of husbands

… partners and significant others (etc.)

This post has really emerged after a few separate incidents got me thinking (a nasty habit, I know):

1. We attended an antenatal class where a partner was being (IMHO) unfairly berated and nagged. I also felt he was publicly humiliated by his partner. He really didn’t deserve it but it is up to him to stand up for himself. Even so, I thought: “That partnership is headed for trouble…”
2. I read an excerpt of “Stunned” as part of an online book club hosted by Blue Milk. There are some excellent comments, and I discussed some points with P, after which he email me the following article:
3. Fathers aren’t dispensable just yet from New Scientist. Thank goodness!! Yes siree fathers are needed! Why didn’t all mothers get that memo????

I always feel that I need to appreciate and enjoy the people around me. I hate the feeling of not being appreciated, so I like telling people what I love about them. And there is always something I love about the people I choose to surround myself with.

I find it even more important now, as I am practically falling asleep on my feet from exhaustion, to appreciate my darling P and all the lovely things he does for me and baby willingly, happily and without complaint. It’s a recipe for any happy marriage, and it never ceases to amaze me how truly grateful and happy I feel when he looks after me. He, and the rest of the world, knows I think he will be an excellent father and will do more than his fair share of parenting tasks.

I am a midwife, hear me roar

I am so lucky that I can have both professional discussions on the state of healthcare in this country, as well as heart-to-heart talks about pregnancy, parenting, breastfeeding and sex with my fantastic, intelligent, articulate and well-respected midwife. She is an amazing woman with a big heart and a sharp mind, and here are her thoughts on the illusion of choice that is presented to a new mother. Unless she is savvy and well-informed, she is probably not getting the most well-rounded advice. (Although anyone who is paying a premium for a private obstetrician is probably thinking that she is getting the best care she’s paying for). Here’s what Joy said:

Informed Choice: a privilege but NOT a right

Notes: A short and technical explanation on evidence based medicine from the Cochrane Collaboration.

and another article on birth choices from Blue Milk:

Because reproductive rights include birth rights

A very happy Sunday

Last Sunday (12 July) I had a very happy surprise.

A baby shower: organised by a group of close friends and my darling husband, whom I thought would never be able to keep a secret like this, or even manage an event like this, without me knowing.

Well, I was wrong. And boy, was I surprised! Especially when the lovely hostess and mastermind Caroline brandished a knife in my face and said “Eeeek, you’re too early, go back outside until we’re ready!” or something similar. After getting over the shock of being chased out of my own home with my own knives (obviously, I ignored her) it finally dawned on me that there were lots of lovely people in my house and stacks of delicious food. Yay!

The best present of the day (and thanks to everyone for all your lovely gifts) was the fact that our friends in Melbourne cared sufficiently about us to pull off something as wonderful as this! I think I was on a high for a week, just celebrating privately every time I thought about this.

The only low point is my wonderful friends NOT in Melbourne (you are probably reading this) whom I would have loved to share a moment like this with. Regardless, I am very thankful for all the support, celebration and good-natured ribbing that has enriched my life from all over the world. You guys are amazing.

A difficult day

I’m not going to lie: today has been hard. Why?

1. I have a cold = congestion + hacking cough = no sleep at night. Oh, and I can’t take decongestants because I’m pregnant + baby is moving and kicking hard most nights = really guarantees no sleep! And when I don’t sleep I turn into a grumpy monster. I shudder to think what will happen when baby arrives and I get really sleep deprived.
2. I am having a “Am I fit to be a mother?” crisis moment. I recognise that this is something entirely normal, even though (like postpartum incontinence and sex during pregnancy) it’s something no one seems to like talking about, or owning up to having. But it’s still difficult to deal with lingering doubts about how I will navigate the crazy (but rewarding) world of motherhood. I’m not saying I’m not looking forward to it, but I can see some challenges ahead, and some days they feel bigger and scarier. Like today.
3. Due to 2) + 1) = P and I are fighting. There are also a few other things that are overwhelming us and (due to factors beyond our control) it’s been a turbulent time for a few weeks, with barely a break to catch a breath. Considering that he is my main source of support and joy here in Melbourne (much as I like and enjoy my friends here, my really close friendships are elsewhere) life is becoming a bit of a strain.

So, I write with two goals: catharsis; and also to report that bad days will happen to everyone, even those who seem to be doing well on the surface: I have a healthy pregnancy with minimal side effects, a fabulous marriage, rewarding work that I really enjoy, plus I still look fabulous (as everyone keeps telling me).

I’ll just take comfort in the facts above, and try to get some sleep tonight. And hope I feel better tomorrow.

Homebirth under threat

Cut from Hoyden About Town post:

Homebirth to become illegal in a year. … And no matter how low-risk the woman nor how much she desires a homebirth, women will not be allowed to do so legally with a midwife. Because the legislation introduced this week will ban midwives from practising without insurance; and there is no insurance provider for homebirth midwives. So long, too bad, so sad. Good bye.

For a good summary, see my midwife Joy’s post, who also wrote a great post about how the legislation affects private midwives attending home births:

It’s not true that *all* homebirth will be illegal after 1 July 2010, when the Health Practitioner Regulation National Law, which mandates professional indemnity insurance as a condition for registration, is set to come into effect.

Homebirth programs that are operated by hospitals and health authorities will be able to continue. The option that will become illegal is private arrangements between a woman and a midwife. That means midwives like me, and an estimated 150 others, will be out of work, and all the women who want to arrange homebirth privately will be denied that choice.

And please sign this petition to save private midwifery in Australia. Because I certainly don’t want to lose the right to the choice of being able to have a baby how I want to, and neither should any woman.

Girl or Boy?

For anyone who is still wondering, the answer is – we don’t know.

Unlike most of our generation, we wanted to find out, and actively sought an ultrasound to check. Why? Because thinking up 1 set of names is easier than 2, and much as I hate buying gender-specific clothing, the annoying shops of Australia have distinctly pink or blue clothing. (Rather than the dark grey, moss green or pale yellow offerings all over Europe. Why I didn’t buy more clothes there, I don’t know.)

Anyway, the ultrasound was inconclusive. Baby was covering its crotch with its hands, then had its little legs crossed on top of it, just to make life difficult. The sonographer’s final verdict was “60% girl” because he “couldn’t see any boy bits.” Which, as far as we are concerned, is as good as saying 50/50.

So we wait with bated breath.

The next “natural” question that I have been incessantly asked is “What does it feel like?”

Honestly, I don’t understand that question. Granted, it is fun to wonder. But when someone (ie – many women I meet who comment on my belly) starts to take such things too seriously, it really annoys me. Besides, if you are a stranger, why do you care?

So, what am I supposed to be feeling??? Firstly, no: I can’t feel a little penis or vulva rubbing against my uterus: which is a muscle, not a sensory organ, in the first place. Secondly, how the f*ck does a male or female fetus feel like? The unscientific nonsense about boys being more active, and girls being more …I don’t know what… is yet another sexual label that I hope not to impart to my child, whatever sex it ends up being. Thirdly, how does what I dream about have anything to do with what sex the child will turn out to be? Believing in dreams is a bit like believing in organised religion, good for some but not my thing. And fourthly, how does what shape my stomach is, what food I crave or how my face looks like have anything to do with it? If someone can find me evidence that such “methods” are consistently proven successful in predicting the sex of an unborn child, please let me know.

If you are going to ask me questions, I think the emphasis should be on how mum and dad are doing (Great!), what our dreams are for our child (Many!), or some other meaningful question about my health, how I’m looking after myself, and how well and happy I look. Or better yet, talk to me about me, rather than my baby. Because my existence doesn’t stop at being a mother or having a child. I would like to hope that I am still a capable member of society (on top of being a sleep-deprived milk mamma) with interesting ideas and valued opinions. If you care about me (and us) please keep that in mind.

Chic pregnancy

Every self-respecting female would be hoping to look nice during her pregnancy, and I’m not about to become a frumpy momma just because I have an expanding belly. Here are some ideas that can help.

This article from Telegraph Fashion is great, and has some excellent tips like:

1. Wear snug clothes.
   Obviously, you need some semblance of body confidence, but I find that figure hugging clothes that drape and cling in all the right spots seem to make me look smaller, and less tent-like.
2. Invest in maternity jeans.
   I have worn my 2 pairs to death, they are so comfortable! I also have a spare pair of pre-pregnancy skinny leg jeans that are super stretchy with a high waistline: they fit great and make my legs look wonderful but start to dig into my belly after a long day, so I only wear them when I’m desperate (with no other option, or desperate to look good).
3. Choose empire lines.
   Actually when I pick non-maternity clothes, I prefer wrap tops that I tie above my belly. I also find that longer tops with ruching around the waist/ belly area very flattering. Some of them I’ve had since pre-pregnancy are still very comfortable now. I have two empire line tops that look nice, but I find some of them can make my boobs look like udders!
   Other clothes that can do double duty are dresses, especially wrap dresses; tunic tops and anything extremely stretchy.
4. Layer up.
   I find I gain and lose heat alot quicker when I’m pregnant, so it is very important to layer. Also, if something doesn’t fit quite right, layering can help disguise it and give you more mileage with your pre-pregnancy clothes.
5. Don’t overshop.
   Well, if you are creative and try almost all of your wardrobe on, I’m sure you won’t have to over shop.

For more inspiration, check out the latest (spring/summer) trends from Mamas and Papas, one of my favourite places to shop while I was in England.

Or try these ideas Benetton Maternity

Turtle moments

I recently finished Catherine Newman’s book Waiting for Birdy, about parenting one child while expecting her second. I enjoyed it’s heartfelt, tender and very funny language, but Literary Mama’s book review tells it better, so I’ll let you read her review instead of writing one myself.

I’ll just quote a favourite passage that resonated, especially as my baby girth increases:

If you’ve ever been pregnant yourself, then you know about this “turning over” – the way it involved a great deal of breathless groaning and a moment of being stuck on your back, like a turtle, your turtle arms and legs flailing in the air.

I am having lots of turtle moments, which are endlessly entertaining to my darling husband. He laughs before helping me right myself (if I give up or my “shell” feels too large). Just yesterday, I nearly sent a Cd display flying at the local bookstore. Oops. Staff were more worried about me than the Cds, which was sweet. It’s as if my bump has a life of its own! (actually it does, but I digress).

Then, we decided to take advantage of the rare autumn sunshine with an impromptu picnic in the Botanic Gardens, which we thoroughly enjoyed until some swans decided to hijack the peace with their newly-hatched, fluffy grey-white cygnets. I didn’t know baby swans were called cygnets until a family came by and the mum said, “Look at the little cygnets” to her kids. (How can I be a mother when I don’t know what the name of a baby swan is??) Anyway, she was lovely, and apologised for invading our privacy.

However, others weren’t quite so nice, and our small patch of grass was invaded by inconsiderate photographers/ gawkers who stood next to our feet, stepped on our blanket, and talked over our heads. It was enough to make a girl want to make out furiously in public, or push someone into the algae-infested waters (not really, but making out seemed like a fun idea). I even contemplated throwing something at the swans to make them go away. But they were too cute.

So, we decided to leave, and that’s when I had another turtle moment. While I was getting up off the blanket, I found myself falling over backwards onto my arse instead of standing upright like my brain expected. The worst thing was I could barely get up without P’s help. Argh.

I suspect I’m going to have more turtle moments. They are only going to get worse as I get bigger. Ah well. At least I am loving being pregnant.