Sunday, 19 February 2017

Baby & Me: 8 Weeks

We have emerged from the fog. Week six was the turning point, I finally feel like we're in the swing of things. I just re-read my last update and it makes me realise how quickly life changes when you have a tiny person growing up right before your eyes. In the past two weeks I have been healed by a miracle doctor and G has had her jabs, here's what else has been happening:

She's finally become predictable, only slightly but it makes such a difference. She usually feeds then had a ten minute window of happy before becoming grumpy, dummy goes in, off to sleep for long enough to do one job (I have to decide between a clean body or a clean house). She wakes up some time later, maybe half an hour, I've never timed it because; what's the point! This is the next window of happy until she turns on a knife-edge because she's realised that she's starving. This cycle lasts three hours almost to the minute during the day. The girl knows when it's time for her food. The night shift isn't too bad, she goes down at some point for six hours then she's back to every three. I try to give her last feed at 11ish because that means I'm up at five, then eight. Not too shabby.

She has said her first word. Yes really. It's 'agoo' and she says it all the time. What does it mean? We're still trying to work that one out but it's amazing to watch her find her voice, we've been trying to teach her 'hello' ever since the first gurgle but she's pretty set on 'agoo'. She's only just started to enjoy tummy time and doesn't think we're just trying to suffocate her anymore. She's trying to move things with her hands but it's very much hit and miss (literally). She loves a bouncy chair and would much rather be in that than be held most of the time. I don't have one yet, I really need to invest in one, my mum bought one for her house that I have borrowed so she's currently sitting at my feet in an overtly colourful number with a singing owl. I'm rocking it with my foot as I type. This along with the dummy are my sanity savers. I take back everything I said before I had a baby.

She now weighs over 12b 12oz, I haven't had her weighed much (it clashes with our Tuesday baby group), I thought I'd be really hot on it but as long as she's going in the right direction (and not becoming obese) it doesn't really matter and frankly it's a bit of a faff, going down to the health centre, getting her naked, hoping she doesn't wee on the scale then doing the whole thing in reverse.  The church baby group is much more enjoyable, she gets to stare at some broken toys and I get a cup of tea, a chat about poo consistency and a fig roll.

She had her jabs this week and it took her five whole days to recover. I gave her Calpol as soon as we left the nurse's room and she didn't seem to get a fever, just seemed really miserable. I think it must have affected her bowels too because she seemed to have a huge belly and every poo was difficult to get rid of. We've had some pretty full nappies once she did finally get them out. She's been diagnosed with a slightly displaced left hip. This came as a big surprise because I know lots of people that have been sent for the scan only to be told it's nothing. I assumed the same would happen to us, but we've been told to put double nappies on her to try to correct the slight issue, fingers crossed it's done the job, we'll find out next week.

I have had the biggest turnaround. I was still waddling into week six, in absolute agony and seemed to be getting worse, not better. I couldn't empty the washing machine, make the bed. I was useless, it was only being a milk machine that made me feel useful, apart from that I was feeling like a pretty shoddy mother! So, after being sent away a few times and told to battle on I finally got my hands on a brilliant and tremendously caring doctor who healed me in one appointment. It turns out that I had granulated scar tissue (or granuloma) and it was such a simple (and a bit painful) procedure. I'll write a post on it because I searched high and low to find information on it on the internet and aside from a few ancient forums there was nothing that made me feel like there would be an end to my agony. Luckily there was a girl at Tom's work (yes, he was talking about my ladybits in the office) who had one and told him that I should keep persevering. Talking about it since, because I love an overshare, I've found lots of people that said that they had it too.

Since I've been healed I am in a much better state of mind, I'm finally painkiller free and hope this will help with the feeding because having drugs in your system can't be good for milk production. Breastfeeding is still up and down but we're still going, 8 weeks in. I am still going to the BF cafe every Thursday and I do think the support is crucial to keep going, I usually have lots of questions, she seems in pain feeding and pooing, I often go away with a tip that helps, at least for a while.

I haven't been to loads of baby groups yet, just Tuesdays and Thursdays so far but I've got a baby massage course starting in a few weeks and a sensory course that someone bout us a voucher for so that's probably my baby entertainment diary full for a while! We're still a bit dry on the mum-friends front, I have a few friends with babies already so I've been mostly sticking to them but there's always someone to talk to and as my friend told me (I laughed but it's so true), once you get on the circuit you do meet lots of the same people at all of the groups. I have a whattsap group of girls from my 16 week appointment and that has been really useful for all of the questions (so many questions) but we haven't quite mastered meeting up yet.

Mentally, I'm doing ok, I make sure I go out every day and now that I'm not in pain I can walk with the pram which makes me feel good I've even managed to have dinner on the table for when Tom gets home...once or twice at least. I mean-we still have those days when we both have tears running down our cheeks but in general there are more smiles from both of us than there have been. If I've been in too long or she's cried a lot I'm a bit stir crazy by the time Tom walks through the door. I can't wait for the weather to warm up so that she can spend witching hour out in the baby carrier in the evening rather than in my exhausted arms. I haven't tried to lose any weight yet but it seems to be dropping off from the breastfeeding, I'm sure this will start to plateau soon. I'm now 3/4 of a stone heavier than before but I'm back in skinny jeans (size 12 Zara mid rise, amazing for reigning in the mum-tum). I think I'll have to cut down on the cake if I want to go right back down to my pre-preggo weight. I still have the brown line, very prominent down the middle but it seems to have rubbed off at the top so it must be starting to recede.

That's us at eight weeks. It's harder than I thought it would be on the days that nothing will settle her (and I still call my mum to rescue us both) but I'm loving it, she's my partner in crime, the best ice breaker and pretty good entertainment too.


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