Well I never thought that this day would arrive, where I could enjoy being part of Mothering Sunday as a mother myself, but it did, after all these years.  Still hard to believe though!  It was great fun.

K had bought me a card and even signed it (maybe with some help!) and we had invited my Mum and Dad and brother for dinner - most of which R did, I have to say - and very nice it was, too.

K kept everyone enthralled - laughing, giggling, crawling, grabbing at people's faces and hair, watching intently while my brother played with her toys and kept her amused while playing peek-a-boo with Winnie the Pooh, and then showed everyone her new skill of ‘washing’ my face by swooshing a wet wipe all over it and shrieking with laughter as I blew raspberries back at her while she did so.

She fell asleep exhausted in my arms just before dishing up time, so I transferred her to Mum.  Dad became all wistful and said that it took him back a few years, seeing her holding a sleeping baby, and he said that she didn't look any different now than she did then.  Ahhhh!  At the end of the day Mum said that she can't remember when she'd last laughed so much.

On Saturday we went to a nearby garden centre. I put K into her harness and we walked around.  Her little face as she saw all the coloured flowers, and then her beaming smiles as I held her closer to some so that she could smell them as well, was a joy to behold.  We walked over to a Hide, from where you can watch birds and squirrels eating the food that had been put out for them.  K was entranced! 

Observing her reactions to the world is just magic.  Sometimes these are only slight, but to see a look of wonder cross her face when she experiences something for the first time, or re-experiences something that she loves doing, or a sudden look of understanding or comprehension flashes across her face is just amazing.  So is that mischievous look when she suddenly realises that she can reach out and grab something that she knows is forbidden!

I love to see her working things out - like why Daddy has a beard but other people don’t.  She’ll sit there for ages with her hand on our chins, comparing them and looking from one to the other.

I love to see her excitement when she hears Daddy come home and sees him walk through the door.  I love to see her make a little happy noise when she sees the cats, who roll over on the floor at her feet for her pleasure to make her giggle.

I love to see her joy when she accomplishes something for the first time, such as crawling and standing and picking something up and clapping and making noises, and the way in which she responds to our responses to her.  I love the cheeky look that she gives me when I’ve cut a small piece off something for her and she grabs the bigger bit left behind!

I love the way in which she snuggles her face into my neck and suddenly becomes heavy as she falls asleep, and love to watch her face while she's dreaming and wonder what she's dreaming about.

I love the shout of glee that she gives when I pick her up and she starts patting my shoulder, in the same way that I pat her on the back after feeds.

I love the look of concentration on her face when she's trying to imitate something that others are doing, and the way in which she bounces to music.

I love the look that we exchange when we look into each other's eyes.

She is all instinct; there's no pretence in her, no trying to be something that she isn't, or pretending that everything's fine when she's upset, to spare other people's feelings, or trying to say and do the right thing.  She is, refreshingly, just herself - if she's upset she cries, if she's happy she laughs, with wonderful, glorious abandon and lack of inhibition.

I just love this little girl, and would die for her, and am so happy to be her Mum.

To those of you who have been my faithful followers all through this saga, I’ll probably end this ‘blog’ soon; perhaps on her first birthday would be a good time.  I don’t have as much free time to keep you updated as I used to when I was at work (for some reason!)  Also the title is no longer really applicable, and as she grows older I’d just like her to be an ordinary little girl.  Although, having said that, she will never be ordinary to me - she is a very special baby of course, and I am privileged to have her in my life.

Late last night, after a rough couple of days and nights.  She won't let me see it but I can feel it.  Today she has only wanted cuddles, and has slept in my arms from 8am until about 1pm with just a small break for milk and water; she didn't even want part of my breakfast.  Now she's woken up and is a lot happier, and is gurgling with laughter again.

I'm so pleased that she has taken this step towards growing up. 

So why am I sad as well? Only because my little gummy bunny is no more; whenever I see her laugh from now onwards I will never again see the gummy smiles that I have come to love.  I know that I'll love the toothy grins as well of course!  It's just that ... well, it's hard to explain.

These last months I have been privileged to have grown this little bundle to full term, delivered her safely, breastfed, cuddled and nurtured her, kept her happy and safe and loved, and I look forward to years of the same.  Every milestone has been wonderful - growing, gurgling, smiling, laughing, standing up, eating her first food, speaking the occasional word, crawling.  But somehow this one marks even more of a new beginning - and ending.

I feel that she is leaving babyhood behind, and becoming a child.  Though of course, I'm looking forward to seeing what sort of child she'll be.  And of course her Daddy and I will love her whatever sort of child she is.  And of course - she'll ALWAYS be my baby!!

(Here's one of the gummy smiles that I meant!)

Some tragic news on our local news last night and I can’t stop thinking about it.  A couple has just lost their only child to cot death at the age of 14 months, two weeks ago.  The story was mainly about the fact that earlier in the year they’d had their laptop stolen with all the pictures of his early life on, and they were appealing to whoever stole the computer for the return of the photos, which they hadn’t backed up.

They had later photos, and a recent video which they showed.  There he was, toddling about and laughing at the camera.  He looked fine; a bonny lad.  No sign that one night soon they would put him in his cot, kiss him goodnight and never see him alive again.

How on earth will they cope with that?  I can’t even begin to imagine the horror of finding one's baby like that.  There's a woman on a forum that I visit who lost her little boy at 17 weeks old - he was fine, she left him sleeping in his cot, did a few household chores and came back to find that he had just died.  I’ve heard couples say that they have to go on for the sake of the other children, but this boy was their only child.  How will they be able to stand the emptiness in the house, the rooms with all his things in?  The awfulness of it.  Will they even stay in the house with all its memories, or will they have to move?  How will they cope with everyone saying how sorry they are and having to talk about it?  And arrange his funeral once there has been an inquest?  The only consolation might be that hopefully the poor lad just went to sleep and didn't wake up, so didn't suffer. 

The guidelines talk about preventing, or at least minimising the risk of, cot death for the first 6 months of a baby’s life, and though I know that there’s still a chance after that for about a year you sort of think that once the first 6 months are up there’s less danger, and then 12 months will be the next landmark after which cot death is very rare indeed.  But it wasn’t rare for this baby - it was real.  I know that children die for all sorts of reasons - fatal accidents and illnesses - but in this couple’s case their baby’s death was totally unexpected and is still unexplained two weeks later.  They might never know how or why he died.

You who have read these entries for some time know that I’m more of an optimist than a pessimist and prefer to look on the bright side wherever I can, mostly due to spending most of my life with people who only ever seem to see the dark side in anything, and for whom the glass is onalways half empty even on a good day

But now I can’t help imagining the worst at the moment - what would we do if, Heaven forbid, the same thing happens to K?  Our worst nightmare.  How will we go on with the rest of our lives?  We’d still have each other and the cats to love and support and look after, but K is everywhere in our house; her toys (mostly bears), her clothes, her changing mat, her photos, her steriliser, bottles and now her food in the kitchen.  How ever would we go on with living day after day, night after night, for the next 40 years or so?  What will our lives be like without our little girl?  What would we do with the room that is her nursery?  It was my ‘craft room’; well I wouldn’t want to see all my stuff back in there again.  I wouldn’t even want to open the door.  We were given a scrapbook in which to record all the events of the first year of her life - all her ‘firsts’.  What if she never makes it to the last pages?  I can’t imagine our lives without that cheeky face laughing when her Daddy comes home, and those grasping hands trying to get at my mug and breakfast, and giggling and squealing with delight when one of the cats purrs and rolls over in front of her.  She has already touched our lives - and the lives of others - in a million and one ways.

We spent 14 years as a childless couple learning to answer the inevitable question “do you have any children?” and I thought that was painful enough, but imagine the pain of having to say the words “well we did have a daughter, but she died as a baby?”

My heart goes out to that couple and I spent all yesterday evening and much of the dark night thinking about them.  How would they ever sleep again?  How would they ever laugh again?  What would they live for?  I didn’t want to go to sleep last night, but of course I did eventually.  I wanted to hear every breath that K took.  I was so relieved and thankful that she was still breathing when I woke up and she was soon laughing and playing with two of her bears.

This morning she is wriggling about happily on her blanket beside me on the floor playing with some of her toys, laughing and ‘chatting’ away to me.  Our precious little bundle.  With us for how long?  For ever, I hope - I want her to live to be at least 100 years old!

Sorry to be so morbid and emotional, I didn’t know this family but the news item just affected me more deeply than I’d realised.  I suppose that it’s nearly every parent’s worst nightmare, except for those who don’t care about and mistreat their children.  

I’ll write a happier entry next time.

Now that K has had her last batch of immunisations for a while - no more until next June, thank goodness - I thought I'd write to Elastoplast with a request asking them to consider making some low-tack plasters for babies.  The nurse uses little round waterproof plasters after injecting K, and they stick so well that getting them off afterwards is difficult even when I use soap and warm water.  They leave red rings and sticky residue on her skin for about 3 days afterwards.

They replied:

"Thank you for your e-mail regarding our Elastoplast range.

It is always helpful to receive comments and suggestions from our customers. I have passed a copy of your email to the Brand Manager concerned, as customer feedback is very important to us when planning for the future.

Thank you for taking the time and trouble in contacting us."

Well, as my Mum would say, "Them's as don't ask don't get", so it was worth a try - they might not bother, but you never know.  So if you do see this new range in the shops, remember that it was my idea (I should have asked for Royalties - 1% of every pack sold should be enough to retire on!!)

Hi, I'm still here, life has just been a bit hectic lately and K has been rather clingy of late since she had the first of her innoculations on Monday.

Well I know that it's for her own good of course but I felt like a traitor all the same, strapping this laughing little bundle into her pushchair and wheeling her off to the surgery.  She had to see the doctor first and he weighed and measured her (9lbs 3ozs) and checked her heart and lungs.  Then back to the waiting room until our name was called.  K was flapping about and laughing, but a toddler and a baby a bit older than K had gone in before us and I could hear one scream after another followed by copious crying.  When we were called I left the buggy in the waiting room; I'd had too much trouble getting it in and out of the doctor's door and patients coming the other way had had to flatten themselves against the wall as we went past.

I'd read somewhere that if you breastfeed the baby while it's having the jabs they won't feel it so much.  I mentioned this to the nurse and she said she hadn't heard of it but I was welcome to give it a try, so I did.  Poor K!  She started sucking eagerly and the nurse told me to hold her leg steady.  K didn't notice.  Then the needle went in, and although she didn't let go she made a "nnnnnggggg" sound, her face went red and then the whole of her head.  Luckily the needle was in and out quite quickly and I felt relieved.

Then the second needle had to go into the other thigh, so I changed her round.  This time the needle seemed to be in there for ever.  Again her face and head went bright red and she made her "nnnnnggggg" sound but this time combined with a muffled high-pitched scream, and it was heartbreaking - I felt terrible!  At last it was over and K carried on feeding, rather desperately.  The nurse said she'd make our next appointment for 4 weeks time there and then to save me having to make it at Reception on the way out (probably in case I chose not to!!) and then said - "Well, that experiment worked".  "Did it?" I said, feeling slightly wobbly; "It obviously still hurt her."  "Yes", said nursie, "but if you hadn't done that she'd be screaming now".

So I tottered out and I mentioned it to the two other Mums waiting to take their babies in, and they both said they'd give it a try.  One had taken her partner with her and he said he wasn't going to go in because he didn't want their baby to think that he was the Bad Guy - he was going to stay in the waiting room and be the Good Guy with the cuddles when it was all over!

The nurse had recommended infant Calpol so I got some on the way home and when her temperature rose just gave her slightly under the recommended dose because she's still a bit on the small side.  K was fractious all day and when she did sleep she suddenly started crying in her sleep and I had to wake her up to comfort her.  I cuddled her for the rest of the day and all day Tuesday, and was hardly able to put her down.  Tuesday night though we gave her a nice bath and took her plasters off, and she woke up on Wednesday morning laughing, to our great relief.  I'm the one with PTSD as I keep replaying it in my head!  We have to do it again in 4 weeks time, then 4 weeks after that and thankfully not again until next June.

Tuesday we trundled down to the bank to pay in the cheque from the Daily Mail article; once it's cleared R and I will go up to the hospital and write a cheque to give it to their Baby Unit so that they can buy some equipment in K's name.  Wednesday MIL came round and yesterday my folks did.

Anyway, our Experimental Excursion was today.  I decided that it was time we did something a bit different so I wheeled her to the Children's Centre near us.  Honestly, the pavements are atrocious!  Holes and lumps and uneven bits - K was soon asleep but kept being jolted awake and her head rolled from side to side however carefully and slowly I went.  She does have a head rest but it isn't enough, so next time I'm going to make sure that her head is well wedged in with blankets or something.

Anyway, I've signed her up for the next Baby Massage class; I don't know when that will be but they're going to let me know.  They'll be on Tuesday afternoons, and then there's an Under-Ones Club on Thursday mornings, and we can just turn up to that without having to join or book.  That will get us out and about twice a week at least.

Afterwards I decided to go to the shopping parade.  When we saw our nieces last weekend they had some little windmills that were free with a comic, and only recently I'd asked R to look out for one in the pound shop near to his workplace, which unfortunately had gone.  You know the sort; multicoloured windmills on a stick that you can get for sandcastles at the seaside, and I wanted to fix one to the handle of the pushchair to keep K amused as we go about, when she's awake that is.  The ones on the comic weren't that sort but were smaller and of hard plastic and one colour, but they still whirred round happily when we blew on them and would have been ideal.  Sadly though the paper shop didn't have any left.  However I was able to buy some cards for some upcoming occasions, so that was good.

I then went into the chemist for some new shampoo to give my hair extra shine, and some Bio-Oil that promises to even out uneven skin tone.  I wanted to see whether or not that included freckles, because I've always had some but seem to have acquired lots since I became pregnant!  I was next in the queue but the place where I had to stand with the pushchair meant that I was to one side of the counter, and staff kept coming in and going out so I had to move.  At one time there were 3 people in the pharmacy dealing with the requests of the customer in front of me, and there was nobody on the counter.  Meanwhile other people kept coming behind the first person where I couldn't get to.  After I'd stood there for what seemed like 10 minutes but was probably less, a fourth person joined the queue on the other side and I gave up, put the things back and backed out.  I'll try another time!

I didn't attempt the mini-mart because I know that the aisles are very cramped and narrow.  Then I went to the baker's, bumping the buggy over the step.  While I was at the Children's Centre I'd picked up a leaflet on food to eat while breastfeeding - I guessed that it probably doesn't recommend cream buns so before I read it I bought a London cheesecake to have at lunchtime, and two fresh cream Belgian buns so that we can each have one for tea.

There's a community centre 'shop' on the parade with internet facilities; they run coach trips from there and also have a cafe which I'd never had time to try out before, but today now that I'm a Mum on maternity leave I thought I'd give it a try.  I bumped the buggy over the step and asked for a coffee and cheese & onion toastie.  I meant cheese & tomato, but it was nice anyway!  However it was a bit of a mistake.  Until then K had been blissfully asleep, only waking dreamily once in the chemist when a recorded voice advertised something or other.  However, this centre had tiled floors and scraping chairs and an echo that magnified sound.  It was practically empty, and I dread to think what it would have been like when full.  There were only 4 other adults in there and 2 children, but the toastie took so long to come that I'd finished my coffee before it did, and while I was waiting for it the noise was enough to wake K so that I had to start feeding her with her 'emergency' bottle.  The door also made a big electronic "BLOOOOOP" noise whenever it was opened or shut, and the 2 children were boys of about 3 years old who were playing a chasing game.

Still, the coffee and toastie were nice, especially as I'd skipped breakfast so that we could make an early start.  The Charity Shop was open - it sells everything but clothes, and I thought that maybe there'd be a mobile that I could dangle over K's Moses basket to keep her happy in it.  However, there were only two, of unidentifiable fluffy animals, and they all looked rather chewed and unhygenic, so I declined.  I fell in love - temporarily - with a realistic-looking rocking horse for 25 quid, but when I touched it it wobbled alarmingly from side to side as well as from back to front.  I couldn't have carried it home anyway, and thinking about it I won't suggest that R and I go back tomorrow for it, because K's nursery has quite a lot of furniture in it already, and though there'd be room for it now, our sister-in-law is donating her youngest girl's cotbed to us in a couple of weeks' time.  And if I want R to consider us having a second baby, I don't want him worrying that there won't be room in the nursery for two children!  (There's method in my madness, you see.)

I decided to come home a different way, but the paths were only slightly better if I didn't mind having to come through a litter-strewn alleyway that is only just wide enough for a buggy and one person coming the other way.  K was well awake by now so I had to stop and give her some more food, but owing to the state of the paths she soon brought it all up again.  So now she's on my lap as I type, wide awake!  Never mind, I've had some exercise and we've both had some fresh air.

Must go - I've promised to proofread a friend's dissertation for his MA, and he's hoping to put the final touches to it this weekend.  It's 48 pages long and I'm only about a third of the way through it yet.  He'll understand if I can't do it because of "Mummy Things", but I'd like to do my best!

Toodle Pip for now!

The day before yesterday I put our daughter in her pushchair and trundled her down the road to the clinic about a mile away. She has put on 2lbs 6ozs since birth, if my maths are right, and now weighs 8lbs 1oz! Wow! Our little girl is getting to be a big girl.

 

... today, when the vinyl chappie came to lay the upstairs bathroom floor and screed downstairs in the shower room and hallway.

... today, when the vinyl chappie came to lay the upstairs bathroom floor and screed downstairs in the shower room and hallway.

Well not much rain today as it turned out; a bit damp but rather nice later on, so the cats were pleased.  We’ve been sorting out cupboards under the stairs in the hallway ready for the vinyl floor people who are coming next week.  Exciting stuff, isn’t it?!

Housework and quite a bit of gardening before the forecast deluge tomorrow!

... having adjusted my normal bp medication; they’re now trying a combination of two types of pill.  I just have to remember which one to take when!  I have to go back up again for assessments next Tuesday and Wednesday, but now have the weekend to rest and put my feet up.

Enjoy your Bank Holidays!

... because they kept me in for two rather uncomfortable nights (we were rationed to only one pillow per bed!).  However, they have now let me out ...

Hence I haven’t been writing in this blog ...

Had a routine medical appointment today where it was discovered that my blood pressure was too high.  I was sent to the hospital for assessment and blood tests etc - and they decided to keep me in overnight!

Just general housework stuff today ...