baybeasts

One year ago today, the six cells that were to become Loey were transferred through my cervix and into my uterus for a quick swim before implanting a few days later. We are so head explodingly glad that he did.

Five years ago today, S’s mother died unexpectedly. I had not yet entered the picture, so I never met Kate, but I feel sure she would have been thrilled to have grandchildren. She had certainly predicted it for years, despite S refusing to believe it would ever happen. We think it is nice, in a bittersweet kind of way, that Loey was transferred on this day, and that Tootle is due any time now. It winds a little thread back into the world of Kate. We have bought shiraz and lamb chops and mint chocolate to gastronomically honour her death day.

Tootle update : Nothing on the horizon - it might still be two weeks before we meet the baby. We have started a crazed last-minute attempt to crochet another cotton baby blanket. Kate was a brilliant knitter, so I think she would approve…

It’s been hard to blog lately. All I am doing is whining and waiting.

This blog started as an infertility blog - it was a way for us to feel a bit more connected to the little corner of blogland devoted to infertility that helped us so much through some pretty rough times. So when all I really have to say is one big whinge about the end of pregnancy, I feel like this really isn’t the place to do it.

But now, I guess it has morphed into a lesbian parenting-type blog, or perhaps simply a way to keep friends up to date with our little family’s news. And so I figure it is better to write something than nothing. I also believe, and have for a long time, that life is very complex - it is possible to hold completely contradictory feelings in one’s heart at exactly the same time. That is, I can feel fed up with this pregnancy and weirded out by the uncomfortable squirming in my belly and pissed off with the sore hips and heartburn and pea-sized bladder and sinus headaches and insomnia (see I said I was full of whining), at exactly the same time that I am completely thrilled with this tiny creature inside me that so soon will make our family that little bit less tiny, and so much more full of love.

I know that as this is a first pregnancy I am likely to go into labour past my due date, but I keep hoping that Tootle will want to meet us sooner. It will be a double bonus when he or she is born - finally we’ll see Tootle’s face, and I won’t be pregnant any more. It is also a terrifying prospect - a newborn in the house when Loey still takes up such a lot of our energy and time. I just have to trust that energy and time will stretch, just as I know that love does.

There are a couple of questions that I keep being asked in these last few weeks, so I think I’ll answer them here as well.

1. Are you nervous about the labour?
You know, I am a bit scared, but not that much really. Mostly I feel settled - I feel like I have prepared as well as I possibly can, and that, more importantly, I have an amazing support team around me. I am really committed to giving it a good go at home, but I also have my priorities sorted such that if Tootle or I need the extra help I will feel fine about heading into the hospital. I am actually really looking forward to it because, as I said, it will mean that we finally get to meet Tootle, and that I won’t be pregnant any more. I am also looking forward to the experience itself - it feels like such a unique opportunity to really work hard and achieve something amazing. I hope that no matter how it turns out I will be very proud of myself.

2. Do you know what you are having?
I am always so tempted to answer this question by saying ‘a baby, I hope!’ But mostly I restrain myself because that is just rude. No, we don’t know if Tootle is a boy or a girl. But the pressure for a girl is intense - apparently bean’s grandmother is already knitting a pink jumper, and my cousin says she’ll just re-name Tootle with a girl’s name and treat him as such if he turns out to be a boy! I have always thought that I am having a girl, but that is because the only dream I ever had about this baby was about a girl baby, and because my family life so far has been so girl-centric (eldest daughter of eldest daughter, raised by a single mum, closest extended family all female as well etc) that I find it hard to imagine anything else. So the weight of all this is such that if Tootle is a boy, I think we’ll get a surprise. But honestly, I really don’t care either way. I might have at some point, but I have done a lot of thinking about the boy/girl thing and it ultimately seems like such a small part of who they will be - I care so much more about other things like their health and general personality than I do about their biological sex at birth. The only thing that was holding me back for a while was that bean and I had not been able to agree on a second boy’s name, but a couple of weeks ago we did some hard work and came up with something that we are both happy with, thank goodness.

So, enough of the whining. Now there is just waiting. Not that it is so hard when every day at home with bean and Loey is so precious - but that’s a topic for another blog post.

I’m sad that I have not journaled or blogged more over the past three months. I always thought that I would frantically record their every action, gurgle, spew… The interrupted sleep is slowing me down. I have forgotten how to spell, and every day passes in a blur of small achievements. Often I feel pleased if I have managed to do something as minor as emptying the compost into the worm farm. It can take a whole week to return a phone call. I’m worried that my synapses might never speed up again, but at least this is a pretty nice place to be if I have to feel like I’m wading though mud.

Loey is still the wide awake, bright baby he’s always been. He has quick 40 minute naps during the day, and sleeps in 1-2 hourly bursts overnight. We are sometimes getting a 3 hour block between 7pm-10pm, but after midnight, it’s often gruesome. S is being a pregnant wonderwoman and gets up with him at 6am and lets me have another 2 hours sleep. It is keeping me sane. I don’t know how she does it after a night of terribly broken sleep with her sore hips, bad heartburn, headaches and hourly wees. I am so so grateful.

Tootle is going to be born sometime in the next 4 weeks. I am excited, and not as terrified as I was just after Loey was born. More sleep deprivation? Bring it on!!! I’m sure when I lose my 6am-8am sleep I’ll feel less excited. And in the meantime, we are really enjoying our less bundled baby in this balmy weather. One thing though - I don’t understand why so much gunk accumulates behind his ears! I clean them with a washer in the bath and then towel dry, but when I actually looked today, there was a stuck-on layer of ick. Poor kid - I did the spit-on-the-finger-as-lubricant trick to get it off.

I didn’t plan to do a 37 week photo post, but this picture is just too cute to let languish in iphoto:

After a lovely day trip to the country, which included a walk where Loey got to wear this very fetching pink hat:

we had our appointment with the orthopaedic specialist. We liked him - even though we waited for over an hour, and he was clearly in a hurry, he took his time examining Loey’s neck, hips, and ultrasound. We could tell that his were hands of experience.

And the verdict? No brace!!! Not at this stage, anyway. He’ll check it again in 6 weeks, by which time we are hopeful that our home grown therapy of bulky cloth nappies and lots of time in the new sling will have fixed the problem (we are stoked that our parenting choices have inadvertently been the best possible thing we could have done for his hips). We are so relieved - we both feel oddly light, less tired, celebratory even. It’s a pity my stomach is so small these days, as our favourite way to celebrate is with food and alcohol, both of which are like kerosene on the flames of my heartburn. Instead we will probably watch the new Bionic Woman and go to bed early - less sexy, but still rewarding!

36 weeks today and I am definitely expanding, to the detriment of my lungs, stomach, and bending-over abilities. I am doggedly still putting Loey in the sling every morning for his first daytime nap though:

And leaving him there awake for as long as he will put up with it:

36 weeks is a big day, because from this point on I am clear to stay at home if I go into labour (and all goes well). Today we overhauled the labour box and packed the transfer bag, but I am delaying putting up the birth pool for another week - it just takes up so much room and our house is so small. I am scared of what’s to come, but only to a normal extent I think - it would be crazy not to have some apprehensions about labour! But bean is such a legend - she is doing all the night time care of Loey (I am only comfortable sleeping on the couch), and letting me take it pretty easy during the days too. I will be as rested and prepared as a mother of a 3 month old could hope to be!

Loey examining the stethoscope in order to help me figure out how to make one for Dr Fantastico to eat (we’re thinking licorice and marshmallows - I’ll post a photo when it’s done):

Also. I want to give a big shout out to the lovely Nix and his partner, not only for the tea and real life scrabble, but most especially for showing us that our camera actually can take decent close-ups. For over a year now we’ve been disappointed with our medium-priced digital purchase because it just couldn’t take a decent close-up - we never bothered to read the manual of course. We are absolutely spewing about the missed opportunities for close-ups of Arlo when he was very small, and are making up for it now:

And bean had fun in the garden the other day:

Tootle will be well close-upped, you can be sure!

When we went to see Dr Fantastico, the best paediatrician ever, he said to us:

If I was blessed with a beautiful baby like yours, I would get his hips checked by ultrasound, just to be sure that there is no dysplasia, because if there is, it is very easy to fix when he is this small, but it is very devastating if you don’t find out until they are older. I’ll eat my stethoscope if there is anything wrong with them, but you know, I have had to eat my stethoscope before…

We had the ultrasound today.

I am now thinking about how to make a stethoscope cake for Dr F to eat.

The ultrasonographer said the dysplasia was mild to moderate, in his left hip only. We did the obligatory Dr Google consultation when we got home, and it seems that it is what is known as a ‘packaging problem’ - that is, related to his position in utero, which, as we all know, was dodgy (it is related to the torticollis as well). Loey will probably have to wear a brace for a while - we won’t know what kind or for how long until we see the orthopaedic people at the children’s hospital some time very soon (we’re waiting for them to call us back).

In the meantime, we are reminding ourselves how this is a totally fixable condition that we have picked up relatively early - if it is not picked up and fixed as a baby it can be really awful later in life. In other words, we are talking ourselves down from the shock and sadness of finding out there is something, anything, wrong with our baby.

And every time we look at our Loey as he contorts himself into a c-shape on the floor or in our arms, and he smiles at us or makes a funny face or coos and chortles, every time he relaxes his little body into our shoulders, opens his eyes wide and licks at our arms in the shower, every time he rolls his eyes in ecstasy as he goes on the breast, flutters his tongue against our finger, grins briefly in his sleep - every single time we feel like the luckiest girls in the world.