Category Archives: Daughter

T-2: and not sure what I want…

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In, or out? For the baby…

In means HOPELESS sleeping, needing a forklift truck to turn over at night, moderate fatigue levels, an odd nerve ending that twings down from my cervix in the evenings (nice).

Out means NO sleeping, except in 2 hour bursts (but they’ll be good, and I can do it on my back and my front to boot), breastfeeding (oh god, the prospect of that again does not fill me with joy), returning to normal (ie no people forgiving the way you look, or admiring your neat bump etc), having to think before stuffing my face with whatever I want to eat, getting crotchety with everyone.

A couple of nights ago I spent the whole night not sleeping but lying there in a heightened state of anxiety, worrying about money (house decorating has absorbed everything), the business (totally nada to show for it), my mother (she’s spent so much money moving to be near us for a few months, and I can’t face her being around at all during any of the birth period, and yet don’t know how to tell her) etc. Don’t feel anxious about the birth bit, except for the fact that it was all so lovely with The Toddler and I can’t see how it would be as good again. Indeed for about a year after having the first baby that ‘lovely space’ of comfort that it’s sometimes nice to retreat to when you’re trying to go to sleep was the moment we arrived at the birth centre and they put me in the pool. It was so lovely being suddenly in the hands of people who knew what they were doing, and the room was dark and private and the water was warm and lovely and then just a few pushes later I had the baby. But trying to think of that moment now in an effort to lull me off to sleep just makes me sorry that we’re not able to be at the same hospital this time around, and worry about the logistics of where we are going to be, and what we’re going to do with the Toddler and resigning myself to the fact that it’ll probably just be an almighty cock-up.

And had hoped that I might have had it before tomorrow when I think mother is coming down again, but as it looks unlikely to pop out early then it’ll just HAVE TO WAIT until she’s gone back home again. I can’t BEAR the thought of going into labour with her around, and knowing that she knows it’s happening, and is going to be sitting whereever she’s sitting, or rather probably hopping about, with excitement and anxiety and just HUGE LEVELS of fussiness. I just want to be able to tell her when it’s a Done Deal. A letter in the Guardian today hasn’t helped my feeling in this department: in A letter to … my estranged daughter a mother bemoans the fact that her daughter seems to have shut her out completely. This must be hugely hurtful, but her ending  just gives me the heebie-jeebies. 

There is always hope. That is one certainty I continue to live in. I am not perfect; there’s no such thing as a normal family. We do our best in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. Your generation can never truly understand how utterly different the dynamics of marriage were in those days – how could you? We are all children of our time, whether we like it or not.

Whatever else changes, real love does not … I will see you!

There’s obviously something going on there that is freaking her daughter out; just give her some space, and let her come to you! There is also an air superiority, a sort of ‘been there, done that, when you’re older you’ll learn’ etc etc that I definitely get from my mother and drives me round the bend.

Anyway I shan’t labour the point. Would be much better to labour the labour… (sorry).

PS BF it turned out did actually have flu, but is now better, so at least that element has improved. Was un peu pas amusant being the only ‘well’ person in the household – though I suppose I should thank my mother, and indeed mother-in-law, for frogmarching me to get the flu jab just before Christmas. 1-0 to them.

 

T-6: and another’s dropped

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Another girl from antenatal classes had her baby this morning; but infuriatingly I can’t remember her due date. Am sure mine is going to be ages and agggeeeesss away (it could still be almost 3 weeks before they do a formal induction), but my hair was slightly flat this morning which felt at one point like it might be A Sign.

This afternoon I went with my mother and the toddler to the local National Trust property; the weather has been gorgeous today but the joy of wandering around open parkland was somewhat compromised by being just totally Full in All Departments with the result that I really would have liked to have just been reclining at home within 5 steps of a loo rather than pottering around at zero speed (toddler not known for his vitesse, analysing as he does leaves, grass stalks, fences etc (‘wow’!)). Made a point of carrying the buggy up 42 steps at one point while mother helped with the toddler (me: ‘I’m not an invalid’) but then surreptitiously had a rest and caught my breath at the top, hoping I wouldn’t faint/pull my pelvis out of sync/break my waters. Thankfully we now have a few days break while mother goes home, instead of staying in the village, so I can go into labour without fear of being witnessed by her. God knows what my paranoia is about demonstrating frailty in front of my mother, but that’s another issue.

I’m now at last trying to slow down a bit, and yesterday walked into the neighbouring village (about a 3 mile round trip) to order The Carpet for the bedroom (we have both now got bored with trying to agree, with the result that BF has ended up preferring my original first choice – as the alternatives I was choosing were seemingly worse), and had a nice coffee and muffin and read of my book while I was there. It felt very civilized and I thoroughly enjoyed not being part of the posse of mothers at the back of the coffee shop with their caterwauling infants. I’ll be there before I know it, so it’s just nice enjoying the calm before the storm.

BF is unfortunately a bit under the weather at the mo which means that I, who feel that now I SHOULD be being looked after, am just mucking along by myself feeling a bit disconsolate and still a bit grumpy (which BF is failing to notice). The Bump is now huge, and I get burning sensations towards the top of it depending on how I sit which I think is just stretching of skin or tissue or something similarly fundamental but at the same time trivial (if that’s not oxymoronic?). This whole business, though, is put into context by the IVF disappointment of a very good friend, which is an experience one wouldn’t wish on anyone.

And on that note I shall count my blessings and shuffle off to make and scoff some more pancakes. These made with Felicity Cloake’s best-of-the-best recipe. She is marvellous.

T-9: and no action

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Except occasional recurring aches, mostly in the evening I’m now finding, but which don’t stop me going to sleep and tend to have disappeared by the morning.

Quietly chuffed to find myself the most robust of the 3 in pregnancy yoga class this morning, despite being the one nearest to drop, and in general energy levels have been absolutely fine, at least since I started taking iron tablets several months ago. The one to drop after me was a mass of heartburn and huffs and puffs and aches and in the end had to leave the class to go to get some water and her heartburn tablets.

This evening a friend of BF’s round for supper; and have ended up in a Bad Mood after feeling like a bit of a skivvy. Advised BF that I was NOT his drinks wallah. Probably more upset because don’t want friend to think badly of BF. And because I can feel myself turning into mymother, trying to second guess that friend might have actually have liked to have gone to the pub to have a proper boys chat and then making BF feel guilty for not thinking of it. Which is all a little bit unnecessary all round.

Anyway BF has gone to bed while I cleaned the hob (that sort of Grump that it just helped me feel better for making my point), and my turn now. It’s his birthday tomorrow so hopefully my Grump will have subsided (or I’ll be better at biting my tongue), and we’ll all have a nice day. As we generally do. Despite the non-arrival of the bambino, which would have been the ultimate birthday present … but is probably not going to happen, and that’s probably OK*.

* Particularly as I can’t find all the old pregnancy underwear to put in my hospital bag, nor any waterproof sheets. Just In Case. (Eeeuugggh)

PS Mood probably not helped by friend’s conviction that marriage was a waste of time.