Don’t say the Q word…

…but it is. Peaceful. Noise-less. The Pudge is still asleep (touch wood in a frantic fashion) and all I had to do was get up at 7am and sneak like a stealth ninja down the stairs, avoiding the creaky bits of whom I am now very well accustomed. And here we are! Breakfast eaten and tea ready to be enjoyed! Happy me.


It’s a strange thing when 7am is now considered up early. Normally I’d have half my commute done by now. Life at home with a baby has made me see things a bit differently. Well I like to think of it as working from home, it’s a bit more accurate! Like at least at work you get a lunch break, and a chat with people who don’t always try and eat your hand and your nose and your hair and smear their drool all over your face.

I kind of thought I’d have a bit of an idea of what it would be like being on maternity leave. Lunch dates, nice walks whenever I wanted etc etc and I wasn’t so thick as to picture a perfectly well behaved non screaming baby. And in some ways I was right, it is like that ┬ásometimes but there’s so much I am finding out about as we go.

At the start I knew it would be tiring. People told me so and also I had encountered a baby or two in my time. I thought sleep deprivation was like if you’re up at 6am all week and then Saturday finally arrives and your neighbour’s dog wakes you up when it’s still dark out and you can’t get back to sleep. Turns out it’s not like that at all! Who knew!

Being a new mother is terrifying and amazing all at once. And people don’t tell you stuff. I mentioned that I found being pregnant was like renting out your body, well the glamour doesn’t stop once the baby arrives. One of my favourites is that my hair is falling out. Sure why not?! Saves the Pudge grabbing at it with his pudgy drooly hands I suppose!

And the weight. Before our ivf treatment I was losing weight. I lost 70lbs altogether by dieting at first and then I got into walking. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I loved it but after a while I did enjoy it, we’re lucky to live beside a lot of beautiful walking routes. Of course I expected to gain weight over the pregnancy. I had an app on my phone giving me weekly updates of what size the baby was in comparison to fruits. At the end of the weekly video it would happily add ‘Oh by the way, you’ll probably gain 5lbs this week Mama!’

So when I toddled off to a slimming world class a couple of weeks ago I knew to expect bad news. And I was right, to the tune of 50lbs. FIFTY POUNDS. ­čśÉ

Well it was fun while it lasted at least.

So anyway the good news is that I now have to be a role model for someone. And what an amazing little someone he is too. It’s a bit surreal really the whole thing, if I think about it for too long my head starts to hurt. How is he even here! We met him when he was the size of a poppy seed. They even showed us a video from the clinic of the egg being fertilised. We saw him being conceived! And then the randomness of it. That it was that egg and that sperm and out of 7 embryos he was picked. It just blows my mind. If the embryologist had picked another embryo he wouldn’t exist…and what of the other 6? Will we get to meet them? It’s just amazing.

He looks like Gavin, so much so that I wonder if I had anything to do with him at all. I think he has my nose though. I’m claiming it anyway. He’s a proper smiler, big gummy drooly grins – although now that the tip of a tooth has broken through I like to call him Fang. It’s bloody sharp too as I discovered when he was casually gnawing on my finger.

He never stops moving and wriggling! Changing and dressing him is like trying to tame a hyper octopus. And oh DEAR GOD the nappy explosions. Poonami doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I have mastered the art of one handed living. I am right handed but my left hand doesn’t know what has hit it. It feeds me now, gets bottles ready, scrawls illegible notes, drinks tea all while my right hand tends to Fang…and it thought it was destined for a life of leisure. We wish, Left Hand.

I wouldn’t change a thing. Seeing him change every day is so rewarding but a bit sad too. Time has never before gone so fast – storing away clothes that don’t fit him anymore is so sad! (I’m a sap). The snuggles into my neck when he’s falling asleep and that beautiful drooly milky baby smell of him…it’s there to be inhaled and I wish I could bottle it and keep it forever, it’s intoxicating and so precious. Holding him in my arms and watching him looking back at me and holding onto my hand with his pudgy little fingers. I look at him and wonder who will he be? What things will he like, what will become his favourite toy or character or book or film? Will he grow up being confident to be whoever he is? Will we be able to teach him to make good choices for himself, what sort of man will he be?

And all the things that scare me, how can I protect him forever from being hurt and sad and all the horrible parts of the world? What sort of mother will I be? Wait, what sort of mother have I already become?

One that’s pretty clueless and seems to be making it up as I go along just like every other first time parent I imagine. And one who just heard a gurgle coming from a pudgy drool monster upstairs who is about to demand to be fed and so ends my Quiet time for today!


Oops I Did It Again

I know. Yes, I know. I said to myself.. I’ll definitely keep this blog going. And I didn’t.  But God loves a trier (tryer? Neither of them look right) so I’ll try again to keep this going!

So, recap. It’s 2015 and my last post was over a year ago when we found out that our IVF worked. I fully intended to blog about pregnancy and I nearly did too!

I thought that getting pregnant was the hard part. Well in fairness to me it was quite the challenge! But I mean that I thought now that I was finally pregnant that the hardest bit was over. 

Em, no.

I had earthy woman type visions of yoga with a bump and breathing and glowy complexions and casually strolling around shops oohing and aahing over cute baby things. Well ok the last bit came true but replace casually with awkwardly and strolling with waddling, and it’s more accurate. 

The thing was that it took me ages to settle into it or to even trust it! This was a shock in a way. I had thought once I saw those two lines my days of worry and stress would be a thing of the past. And they were in one sense, but I think because it took us so long to get to that point my brain was still on standby to expect bad news. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy, but just wary-happy! 

Then the nausea kicked in. Ok so loads of women get morning sickness, I sympathised with plenty of them before..oh you poor thing etc etc but I never really thought too much about it. IT IS HORRIFIC. Think of your worst hangover ever. Then multiply it by 100. It’s a bit like that. You know when you know you’re going to throw up, and that bit right before you do..the worst bit…it was that feeling TWENTY FOUR HOURS A DAY. The thing about a hangover is that it goes away and you can lie on various things until it passes. Not with ‘Morning’ sickness. Oh no. With morning sickness you still have to function day to day and sit on trains that rock from side to side with people who wear strong perfumes and aftershaves, and work all day with people who eat disgusting things like bananas and ham sandwiches. And for the record, whoever named it morning sickness hadn’t a fucking clue what he was talking about. 

The thing was, I felt like I was doing it wrong. I had pictured me as the picture of happiness. Finally pregnant. Look what we went through to get here! So shut your whingy mouth and suck it up. This is what you fought for so your complaints are hereby null and void. Not only that but I felt I had no right to complain. So I tried not to.  I was going to blog about my happy pregnancy but I thought I’ll wait til this bit passes when I can function again. 

17 weeks later and my days consisted of getting through work and commute somehow then  finally getting home and lying down through the nausea. I literally couldn’t function anything other than the absolute necessary. How. The. Fuck do women do this more than once?! Then the guilt would kick in and I’d give out out to myself for even thinking it, I mean I was annoyed with myself. How lucky we were to be where we were! And I knew we were. 

Please don’t get me wrong, I was so grateful the whole time. It was just that I felt I had no right to be finding the pregnancy hard because of the IVF, but the truth is that it is damn hard. Women really do rule the world!

Thankfully after the nausea went things did get easier and I began to enjoy it more. Our first scan…seeing that little blob with the heartbeat flickering away, I will never forget. Never. There were tears.  I kept thinking…you are growing a human! There’s a person in there! There’s a foot in your belly! It’s nothing short of amazing. 

The day I first felt movement…like little fluttery bubbles popping in my belly. I was on the train to work and it was a lovely sunny morning and I sat there holding my belly with a big grin. I must have looked like some sort of deranged Santa. 

The first kick! Weeeeeiiiird. A person just kicked me from inside me. Oh god there’s a person in there. And I’ve to get it out…..! Eek. 

That awkward look from people on the bus. Is she fat or pregnant?  (Both!) Better not risk it. 

That awkward avoidance from people on the bus. Pretend you didn’t see her mahoosive bump and you can avoid standing up. This was interesting. For ages I didn’t mind cos I didn’t feel I needed a seat. Towards the end though I would have paid someone for a seat. I only ever got offered them by women. Women rule. 

Last day of work. Glee! No more trains and buses! Pregna-commuting is damn hard. I finished work 2 weeks before my due date of October 28. My days consisted of lie ins and movie watching and waddling and using bump as a handy built in tray for my iPad. Sometimes it would fall off when bump decided he didn’t want to be a tray and wanted to have a silent disco and a foot shape produded out of my belly. Me and bump had good times. But I kind of wanted my body back. It’s like you rent yourself out for 9 months and you lose control of a lot of things. Like putting on socks. And other bodily things. 

2am November 2nd. Something feels weird. It’ll prob be grand. 6am Nov 2nd. Nope, something definitely feels weird. Get thee to thy hospital!

November 3rd 2014 – after a very long and tiring and let’s face it, quite ouchy sort of time, ending in an emergency section (I’ll spare you the details), at 22.22 our precious bump transformed into our amazing miracle son Rian, and a whole new venture began!  

I’m a Mam.

Love is.