Five things I've learned this week

Sometimes life can be a bit overwhelming. This year has been a supersonic rollercoaster ride of emotions and events. And with August already well underway it doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.  As this year speeds ahead so too does Gracie's first year of life. She's now nine months old. A toddler. A big girl.  And my time at home is speeding to an end very, very soon.  

With my impending return to work I have, in true Sunny fashion, been trying to make a plan for all the things that need to have been accomplished before I leave the nest. My list isn't long, but it is complex. And most of it surrounds Gracie's development and daily schedule.  She's still struggling with her sleep patterns and self-soothing, and she's still being breastfed.  

It has always been my plan to breastfeed until she turns one, and then wean straight onto cows milk. This doesn't seem like too much of a drama except that she LOVES the boobs. Just loves them.  But then there's her sleeping. She settles without too much fussing for her morning nap, is transitioning herself from two daytime naps to one (early, I know), and is slow to settle overnight with a dream feed in there around 2am.  I am anxious that she'll not be able to sleep well at daycare as she's not yet self-soothing at home.  

This anxiety, MY anxiety, has caused me to research and trial a number of different methods in helping Gracie become a more independent sleeper. None of which have worked as yet, all of which have upped my stress about the situation and confused our poor baby girl.  

This weekend we tried a well-known, and pretty hardcore method of sleep training that did not go well. AT ALL!! Hubby and I had our reservations going into it, and at the end of two hours of screaming, our Gracie Girl just wasn't playing the game. It was a nightmare! And for the next 24hrs our usually confident, bubbly toddler was a clingy mess. I felt terrible. What had I done?! Why did I mess with her working routine? Why did I put her through that? Will we ever find something that works for her?  I broke down, sobbed like a feral mess, and then called Grandma. 

After a good vent and cry, she and Hubby helped me realise some things. I wanted to share them with you. 

1.  Babies grow quickly. Too quickly. They go from being tiny, helpless, little humans to rambunctious toddler people in the blink of an eye. She doesn't need me as much as she did. She's happy to play and crawl and climb and chase the cat all by herself. 

Cherish the time that she relies on you, comes to you for reassurance, cuddles, instruction, sustenance and just because she misses you. The older she gets, the more independent she'll become and this time is precious and fleeting. 

2.  Your baby is never going to be the baby that the books/experts/doctors etc. are talking about. Your baby is different from every other baby.  They will eat, sleep, poop, cry, talk, crawl and walk when they're good and ready. And that's ok. 

Trust your Mummy-instinct. No one else knows your baby like you do. And no one can tell you that something will definitely work for you - or won't for that matter!  Sometimes you need to write your own baby user manual. And sometimes you go back and edit the pages you've already written.

3.  It is alright to just survive a day/week/phase. You don't have to win the Mummy/Daddy/Human Of The Year award. Some days you won't brush your teeth, change your clothes, put the dishwasher on, cook a meal... So what?! Who cares!! 

Do what you need to to get through the day.  And sometimes that means living in your PJs the whole day. Sometimes it's going through Maccas drive-thru without a bra or makeup on. And sometimes not showering for the better part of the week because that takes up precious sleep time! As long as you and your family are alive and healthy at the end of it all, that's what matters. 

4.  Everyone has someone they can lean on. If that person offers you help don't act bashful or ashamed or self-righteous or embarrassed to accept their offer. Parenting is HARD with an exclamation point!!!  

Asking for help means someone CAN help you. It's nice to say you don't need it, but then there are days where you want to paint an SOS on your roof and wait for rescuers.  If people offer, say YES. If they don't offer, ASK! Ask your husband/wife/parents/siblings/friends because there's got to be someone who'll help you out. If it's something you think needs a professional opinion - go get one. Again, there's no shame in telling your GP that you're struggling emotionally and/or physically. If you don't say anything they can't offer assistance. 

5.  It's hard not to blame yourself for your baby's behaviour/mood/schedule etc. I mean, you're the one who spends the most time with them. You're the parent.  They're your responsibility. Just remember that some things are out of your control. 

Be kind to yourself! This kind of goes hand in hand with asking for help. You can't do everything. You're not the responsible for everything. Take pride in little victories like lack of lunch time tantrums or changing a nappy without getting poop up your arm. You're doing a good job!!  

And for heaven's sake - give yourself some alone time or pampering or take a walk/toilet break/shower alone. You need time to clear your head. You're allowed to want to be alone! 

So there you have it. I'm no expert in anything at all, but I do know good advice when it's given to me. Hope it can do you some good too!

Sunny xx

Nine months old (and I'm not ready)

On the day our Gracie turned six months old I tucked her up snuggly in her bed, and then I curled up in Hubby's arms and had a big cry.  I was completely overcome by this enormous amount of emotion; love, pride, happiness, and sadness. My baby wasn't so much a baby anymore. Six months had come and gone so quickly...too quickly, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my newborn yet. I wasn't ready to accept that she'd been in the world a whole half-year and could already giggle and roll around and scoot across the floor. I just wasn't ready...

Well, that was three months ago. Tomorrow our Gracie Girl is nine months old. And regardless of my objections the world hasn't stopped turning or the clocks stopped ticking. Time has rolled along just as fast as ever and our baby girl is now a toddler.  She is a little person with a big personality. She knows what she wants and when she wants it and can easily bring your attention to that fact. Our girl is only weeks away from taking her first unassisted steps. She already stands up tall, walks between the furniture, and pushes her highchair around the living room. She has learned to climb the stairs, and races up them ever so quickly at the mention of bathtime each evening.  Bathtime no longer requires her bath seat; instead she prefers to stand up and hold onto the tap as we wash her hair under the shower.  If she decides she'd like to sit down and splash she'll reach for the bath plug and promptly put it in it's proper place so the bath fills up with bubbles.   

Gracie loves flipping the pages of her favourite Peppa Pig book as her Daddy reads to her every night. This has become a very beautiful little routine they share, and as much as I'd love to join them in their moment, I always leave them to be just the two so they can read and cuddle before sleep time.  In just a few days after starting her Daddy book time Gracie surprised us both with her first fully formed word - Dad. We both beamed with pride. 

I love this little bubble we are in right now.   The eighth month was a long, hard, sick month. But it was also lovely and fun and adventurous. Gracie's little personality grows bigger every day as her mind and body expand and she becomes SO much more capable.  I want time to slow down. I want Gracie to slow down!  I know the months ahead bring even more milestones that will resemble less of the tiny baby she used to be and more of the little girl she's becoming.  I am not ready to move on yet. 

I love our Gracie Girl with her Daddy's cheeky grin and love of chocolate. I love how she can sit so still and calm staring at the trees blowing in the breeze one minute, and be chasing after the cat, giggling with excitement the next.  I love that we share our own special Mummy-Gracie language made up entirely of little grunts and growls. And that I can bring her back from tears with just the right sound and start a whole conversation. I love that she still sleeps in our room, in her cot, so that she can share our heating and I can listen to her snore. And I love the bond of breastfeeding. 

But I am sad because I know that soon winter will be over and she'll move back into her own room. Because my time at home with her everyday is coming to an end soon and we must start preparing her for daycare. I am sad that the time has come to wean her off the boob and encourage her bottles.  And I worry that she won't understand why there are so many changes at once. 

Our dear, sweet Gracie Girl has brought so much love into our home, into our family and into the world.  We are truly blessed to be her parents.  These last nine months, plus the nine while I was pregnant, have been the greatest of our lives.  Who knew such a tiny, perfect little person could take such a hold of your existence? 

Keeping my cool

I'll admit I'm a bit of a hot head sometimes. I can get pretty cranky pretty quick if the situation provokes it. And with the recent events of sickness and lack of sleep in our house I've felt myself losing my cool faster than usual.  I haven't always been this way.  It's only a semi-recent behavioural change in me that I don't love at all and work every day to counteract. So yesterday I felt a surge of pride (is that the right word?) when a particularly demanding and annoying day could have got the better of me. 

Gracie's nap schedule has changed around AGAIN this week. Her usual twice daily hour-and-half sleeps have been replaced with a brief 30minute nap that leaves her neither refreshed nor happy. And as much as I shush and bounce and cuddle she fights me off and tries to play. This is fine until about 5pm when all hell breaks loose and she becomes an overtired monster who wants dinner early, refuses to sit still, doesn't want to get out of the bath and won't let us put her PJs on.  And as predicted she falls asleep super early.  Which brings us to yesterday. 

Gracie's day started at 3.30am. She woke and made her usual "gimme them boobies" noise and so I complied. This usually lulls her back to sleep til about 7am. But no, not yesterday. So we bounced and cuddled for 30minutes with no effect. Rather than tearing my tired hair out I put her warm gown on and took her downstairs.  We ate a very early breakfast and had some paracetamol for teething pains and within an hour she was asleep again. SUCCESS!

She woke later that morning at 8am to restart the day a little happier and so did I. But come 10.30am and her morning nap and we repeated the same as the day before. After 35minutes she was awake and bright-eyed, ready to play. So instead of trying to wrestle her back to sleep I popped her in the highchair for lunch. She was visibly tired, but ate a big bowl of fruit and yoghurt before reclining with a rusk to watch me finish my bowl of soup. No tantrums, no crying, just chilled out. SUCCESS! 

After lunch we played in the garden. I watched with held breath as she scooped a giant handful of mud from the garden and put it in her mouth.  But we just washed her mouth out and kept playing. By 2pm she was struggling. The playing had turned to whinging and she was refusing to let me pick her up. So, mustering all my calm I held her hands as she walked up the stairs in front of me. We climbed into bed and had a feed. Within 20minutes she was asleep. SUCCESS!  And the best part of all, so was I! DOUBLE SUCCESS!!

I woke first at 5pm. Ah crap, we overslept and the evening routine is going to be all out of whack. Dammit dammit dammit! So I woke Gracie who rolled over and gave me her sweet, sleepy baby smile.  Downstairs Hubby was on the phone speaking with a mechanic.  Apparently his car wasn't running well and had refused to start, requiring him to pull it apart to find the problem. Not the battery - crap, that means it's something bigger and more expensive. And to make matters worse he needed his car for work early tomorrow morning. DOUBLE CRAP!  Luckily we were able to borrow his sister's car for the remainder of the week until we can get his repaired over th weekend. Unfortunately this meant dragging Gracie out after dinner to go and collect it. And we all know how much Gracie loves a car trip!  

So cut to our drive home. It's already 7.30pm and we are now cutting into bath and bed time and Gracie knows it. She screams the whole way home, voicing her utter discontent over the fact that she is squished in her car seat rather than playing with her bath toys and getting snuggly in her PJs. I sing and talk to her from the drivers seat, trying to calm and reassure her that all will be back to normal very soon. We arrive home and immediately head towards the bath. I strip her off and in she hops. Order is restored. SUCCESS! She's now very tired but the simple task of having a bath has brought order back to her evening. She knows now that soon it'll be pajama and Daddy book time, then milk and sleep. I keep singing and talking to her and the next 30minutes of routine go quickly and smoothly.  SUCCESS! 

You have no idea how much of a win that felt like. A big day with a big change of schedule that could have put us all in a bad mood. But I consciously did everything I could to not let it get the best of me, and the best of our day.  And it felt so good to see the positivity paying off. I can't help the fact that Gracie may do something different every day, but I also know she thrives on routine to keep her calm and help her feel supported.  I can't predict crappy circumstances like a broken down car, but I can change my reaction to it.  I don't want to be a

cranky, anxious Mum. I don't want to be snappy and overwhelmed. And yesterday felt like a major step forward. So yeah, maybe proud is the right word. 

What makes you snap? 

Have you got any sure fire calming tips?

One sick girl

Winter is here. It took its sweet time but it finally swooped down on us in a flurry of super cold nights and windy days. We went from 15'C to 4'C evenings overnight. And no, we were not prepared. And neither was our little Gracie. After a fortnight of craptastic sleeping and behaviour we were not so shocked to find out she has a double ear infection. 

I had suspected she wasn't well for a week or so. And as the doting nurse/Mummy that I am I took her to the GP and demanded that they look into her ears, feel her glands and check out her throat.  The result was a very nonchalant reply that went along the lines of "it's just a growth spurt and you just need to keep an eye on her and blah blah blah". So I took her home and did as instructed.  Five days later Hubby and I found ourselves up til 4am with a screaming baby girl who hadn't slept in eight hours and, despite dosing her with ibuprofen and paracetamol, could not be consoled.  The next morning I stormed back into the GPs office, armed with an appointment with our usual doctor, and asked for a second opinion. He took one look at her ears and declared it as a full-blown infection. I was livid; we started antibiotics that afternoon. 

I suck at having a sick baby. I am a nurse and I am horrible at having a sick baby. I thought I'd be able to rock this kind of situation but I feel like I've done the opposite.  I got short-tempered and frustrated. I cried when she cried. I attempted to force antibiotics and pain relief down her poor little throat and when she refused I handed her over to her Daddy instead. At work I didn't cry over patients. I didn't slip meds into their food.  But I wasn't their parent. I wasn't their Mummy. They weren't my first-born baby with their very first illness. And we've never had to deal with all this stuff before.

So it's been a week. Gracie has reluctantly swallowed each foul dose of antibiotics. She's spent many a night falling asleep on my chest and sometimes stayed there the whole night.   And she really has been a bloody champion about it all. She's put up with my incompetence, with her aches and pains, and the horrible belly cramps that come with antibiotics. She's giggled and played, chased The Boo around the floor, and given us the warmest cuddles.  And finally she is getting better. Thank goodness!  

Oh, and isn't she just the cutest little sickie? 

Sleep deprived

All I wanted tonight was to go to bed early. When I say early I mean some time before midnight. I can't remember what it's like to find myself tucked up in bed, every task for the day completed, not scrambling to do last minute jobs, carelessly dozing off before the beginning of a new day. I also can't recall life before coping on an average of five hours sleep. Oh, how I long for those lazy Sundays spent hanging out in bed in my pjs, taking a long afternoon nap only hours after a late breakfast. I miss those days. I don't think I truly appreciated those days until now. 

Gracie has hit another rough sleeping phase. Can you tell? We just had ourselves all sorted out with a fabulous routine and then BAM, we're starting from scratch again. This time around it's hard.  Sleep digression at this age feels personal. It feels like rebellion. She fights so hard to stay awake. She claws and bites and cries.  And I have really taken it to heart. I have felt useless. How can I not settle my own child enough to ensure she gets adequate sleep?  I have felt cranky. Why can't it just all work the way it used to? I have felt depressed. Will it ever get better?  I don't think I'm cut out for all this! I have gotten so inside my own head. And right now it's not the shiniest, most uplifting place to be. 

I recognised this darkness almost immediately and I reached out. I reached out my big sister, who reassured me this was all normal and that all babies go through sleep patterns, several hundred times over. And that it's ok to feel horrid, as long as you're still talking about it and asking for help.  I also reached out to a group of fabulous parents-post-infertility bloggers, who shared with me some really helpful articles and advice for coping with this rough patch.  Through reading these articles I learned that our little Gracie is just adapting to her new memory function, object permanence. She has learned how to miss us when we're not around. And how confusing that can be when you don't understand it. She is also in the middle of a major growth spurt, which has be prompted by her desire to be an early walker. And on the eve of her turning eight months old she's also teething again.  Through every long night and frustrating bed time all I could think was "why is she doing this to me?"  And yes, I know how illogical that sounds considering I am the adult and she is the child. But sleep deprivation does that. It is a nasty, cruel form of attack on your mind and your body. You don't think logically. All you can think of are ways to become unconscious as soon as humanly possible, and anyone standing in your way is the enemy. Relationships suffer. Warmth becomes cold.  I was feeling like a shell of my usual self and I did not like who I was becoming. 

I am thankful I have people to cry out to, people I can call day and night to cry to and ask for help.  I'm not sure how I would coping if it wasn't for them. Parenting is so hard! I love my daughter so very much. But I am not a perfect parent and some days are not fun. And that is something I am learning is ok. That is something I am reconciling every day, because to think it makes me feel guilty.  We did everything in our power for three years to ensure that this little girl existed, and now I feel like this.  It is a hard reality. But it is a true reality that I am sure many others would agree with. And I am working on it. 

I am tired. I am tired because I am her Mother. And if she is awake and unsettled there is nothing I care about more than making sure she feels comforted and safe. I am tired because I give her my everything.  I am tired because on top of being her Mum I am also a wife and I am doing my best to not that that relationship fall by the wayside.  I am tired because this is all so new and terrifying and exciting. But it's ok to be tired and it's even more ok to admit it and ask for help. 

We have a long way to go to perfect sleep. And it's only going to get harder before it gets easier because introducing new routines can be so tricky and exhausting.  But I've even told it's all worth it and everyone will benefit in the long run. 

I hope you have someone to talk to when you need it most. 

I hope you know it's ok to say things are a bit too hard and you need help. 

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write a post, but I'm sure now you understand why. 

Reach out, let me know you're still hanging in there. I'd love to head from you! 

Portraits are powerful

This week marked the magnificent milestone of our little Gracie girl turning six months old.  And to help us celebrate my dear friend Elizabeth, owner and photographer at White Acre Photography has offered to take some family portraits for us.

Whenever Elizabeth offers me her services in the form of a professional portrait shoot, and not just my friend taking some happy snaps, I always question whether it's really necessary.  What's wrong with a bunch of casual piccies taken around the house or at birthday parties?  Well, nothing at all.  These are photos of every day moments captured to fill albums and help us remember days past.  But there is something very special about having your family's portrait taken by a professional (and not just because you'll finally be in front of the lens and not the one who misses out behind the camera).

As part of a branding and image makeover of her brand, Elizabeth has taken the time to explain the importance of keeping photographic memories.  And because she has been a part of and shot so many of my family's most memorable occasions I just have to share her with you too.  Check out Elizabeth's Portraits Are Powerful series.  You may even spot Gracie in a pic or two.

I'll be back later to share some of our most recent milestone portraits with you.     

 

It's not all bad!

No one ever said that being a parent would be easy.  And no amount of pre-game pep talk would ever have been enough to prepare us for life with a baby. There are books you can read, friends and family who give you advice, the internet, mummy groups and so on and so forth.  But none of it really means a damn thing until you've got your tiny little bundle of half-mum-half-dad loveliness home and are living in your new, unknown reality.  And it's in those first few days and nights on your own that you attempt to recall every morsel of information, every tidbit of advice people tried to spoon feed you.  And it's right then and there that you realise none and all of it helps.  Am I right?!

Recently I realised something, as I sat on the couch with a sleeping baby plonked on my chest, unable to eat when I wanted, pee when I wanted and smelling up the joint from three days of non-showering; new parents (and by new I mean every single parent of any child of any age) tend to get bogged down in what their kids SHOULD be doing instead of reveling in what they are doing.   It's easy to feel like you are achieving absolutely nothing when you've got kids. It's easy to wake up in the morning only to check your watch and find that it's five hours later and you're still in your PJs with your hair in the same old greasy ponytail and your breath stinks. It's easy to look around your home and become overwhelmed by the dishes  in the sink and the washing piled up in baskets.  It's easy to forget to get something out for dinner or that you ran out of milk two days ago and still haven't made the five minute trip up the road to the shops.  And it's easy for one bad night to turn into two or three, and for sleep deprivation (or zombie brain) to take over and you find yourself grinding your teeth, muttering under your breath about why you'd EVER want to have another baby, or just plain old sobbing into your cornflakes for dinner.  

But something that's hard to do is to make the connection between your stinky trackpants and unwashed hair and your child's happiness.  The fact that I haven't showered today or put on a load of washing isn't indicative of what I HAVE been doing.  In fact there is a direct correlation between my own personal dishevelment and the giant smile on my daughter's face (and not just because she thinks I'm hilarious)!  Because it means my day has been spent being her Mum first, above all other menial tasks around the house.  She is smiling because we have spent the day snuggling, playing, learning, eating, pooping, discovering.  She is smiling because I have put her first and she feels loved and protected and safe.  But you won't read too often about that in the parenting books.  Well, not in my experience anyway.

I have always taken parenting advice with a huge grain (or tablespoon) of salt.  I think anyone who cares to write a book and call themselves a "parenting expert" is more along the lines of a delirious moron.  How can you be an expert in parenting, or a "baby whisperer"?  Do they teach that at university now?  I have read a few parenting books with the hopes of learning a thing or two that I can use to help make my days a little easier.  But this is hard because despite the fact that ALL BABIES ARE DIFFERENT, each one of these experts claims to have the right way to discipline, the right way to schedule, the right way to calm.  And when your own baby doesn't respond to any of these methods these books also (for no extra cost) make you feel the right kind of inadequate and guilty.  Sounds fun, right?  Nope, no it's not!

I was having this conversation with two friends today, both with daughters in varying stages of toddler-dom, about which books we'd found helpful, what techniques we've tried for what, and what advice we wished we'd known.  And not surprisingly we all came to the same conclusion.  Yes, there may be days when we want to cry about the lack of sleep or how much one tiny creature can disrupt our lives, or the fact that you no longer have the time or energy required to kiss your husband on the mouth let alone get bizzy anymore.  But you also get a front row seat to the greatest show on earth! No one else gets to shape and mould your children the way you do. No one else gets to marvel in the ingenuity of the mind of a child as they mimic and discover how to do those things you're teaching and showing them.  I can quite literally spend hours watching my daughter's face as she figures out how to grasp her toys, reach for her dinner spoon, and use her baby language to ask for what she wants.  This month alone she has learned how to sit upright unassisted, pull herself up to standing position and begin crawling. And I got to be there for every second of it! 

So no, we don't have a cemented schedule yet, she doesn't go to sleep at the same time every night, and she still sometimes cries on car rides and throws tantrums when she's tired. But who cares?!  Because she is so incredibly smart and loving and affectionate. Every day is an adventure because you never know what to expect next.  And I wouldn't trade a second of it! 

                          

                          

                          

               

It has started again...

What's started you're asking?  The counting, the mind games, the estimating. That's what!

At 12 weeks (exactly) post-partum I got my period. It was painful, crampy and horrible. It was exactly how I remembered them being before I got pregnant. I was not impressed. Far from it actually! I spent the next 10 days bleeding, aching, getting pimples and cursing my uterus for starting this horrible tradition again so soon after giving birth. BAH!! And then to my surprise six weeks later I got another period. And so I started marking them on our calendar. Can you see where I'm heading with this yet? And then I waited and waited and six weeks came and went and my period hadn't arrived yet. And, well, being the total airhead that I am I started thinking, could I be pregnant?? I mean, it's never happened naturally in the years since my PCOS diagnosis, but now I've had a baby maybe it could be different. Because we all know that's how life works out, right?!  Don't judge, I know how stupid I sound! 

So I spoke to Hubby, who looked at me like he may have to call someone at the looney bin to come collect his apparently crazy wife. But he also pointed out the fact that we had been doing the biz-ness recently and we did still have a leftover pregnancy test in the upstairs bathroom. Basically I blame him for what ensued because you're not supposed to encourage stupid behaviour in your spouse!  He told me to make up my own mind about doing to test, laughed in my face and walked away. Of course I did it! Curiosity didn't just kill the cat, it peed on my home pregnancy test and then set it on fire. Of course I wasn't pregnant! And I knew that!! But I did it anyway because regardless of the last four years I am ever the hopeless optimist. And I still felt all those same darn emotions I used to feel: my heart raced with nervous excitement, I became a little short of breath as I counted down the minutes until it was time to look at the results, I put my head in my hands and quietly debated with myself whether a positive outcome would be a 100% ridiculously scary prospect or if it'd simply be a massive blessing in disguise. And then I looked down at the big fat negative in the window and felt sad, a little relieved and exhausted.  I'd known the test would be negative and I'd gone ahead and done it anyway. And it felt exactly like it used to all those other times. Like a big fat kick in the guts.  

If I had of been pregnant this would have been my reality: Gracie and the new baby would have shared the EXACT same estimated due date. Yep, that's right! Crazy stuff!  If I had of been pregnant we'd have two babies under two. If I had of been pregnant my estimated return to work in November and the end of maternity leave would actually mark the beginning of another round of maternity leave.  If I had of been pregnant I would now already be at the end of the first trimester. And that thought blows my mind!  Would I be ready for round two of the pregnancy and baby game?  

I love our Gracie girl. Like I really, really love her.  But pregnancy was so freaking stressful.  And her newborn stage, which isn't that too long gone, was single-handedly the hardest period of time in our lives so far.  She was, undoubtedly, THE cutest baby on the face of the planet, and she was so good at feeding from the very first minute of her existence, but EVERYTHING was so hard! She didn't sleep well (and still doesn't), she had awful reflux and/or colic, and she wouldn't go to anyone else but me.  She's now finally at this gorgeous little phase in her life where she's giggly, wriggly and loves to cuddle her Daddy, and I want to cherish every second of it. BUT it's also this shining light at the end of the fourth trimester black hole that makes me seriously consider baby number two.  Was it all really as bad as I remember? Could I do it all again while Gracie is so little? 

To be frank, yes it was and no I don't think I can really see us with another newborn any time soon.  I am just now starting to get the hang of this parenting thing and I'm loving it. And that's all because of the beautiful little girl I call our daughter.  Everyday she learns something new, teaches us something new about ourselves and makes our home a happier, cuddlier place to be.  And I'm quite content right now to keep her our number one priority.  But does that mean I'll stop keeping track of my periods, no!  Because even though I'm not actively trying to get pregnant, I'm certainly not trying to prevent it if it happens naturally.  There's no contraception in our house people!!

How much time was there between you children?

Would you do anything differently?

HOW CAN I MAKE MY BABY SLEEP??

               

Meeting Miss Grace

Being a new parent is hard. You know from the moment you find out you're pregnant that life will never be the same. And that this little person soon to be born will challenge you every day for the rest of your life. But no amount of reading or friendly parenting advice can prepare you for YOUR baby and their specific little character which ultimately depicts what they need and want from you as their Mum and Dad. Every single day is different from the day before, and for the first few weeks we weren't sure if we'd ever learn all Gracie's little commands and requests. But now she's nearly eight weeks old we're slowly getting the hang of this new life. 

Our first six weeks together

When we brought you home from the hospital we thought you'd never smile. Your cranky, dissatisfied little face always looking up at me in what I came to think was disapproval. "How can you be getting it so wrong, Mummy?" But as the weeks went on we started to learn a few things about each other that have made our lives together a lot calmer. 

You're incredibly adorable, with your beautiful eyes that look like marbles with their mixture of blue, green and brown. Those adorable little hands and feet that I just want to hold, kiss and nibble every time I catch a glimpse of them.  And the little birthmark on your belly that just happens to look exactly like your Mummy's melts my heart each time I see it. 

You have so many little facial expressions and it seems you learn a new one each day. Your smile is slightly crooked and your tongue pokes out the side and my heart skips a beat each time your face lights up. 

You're so strong already. You can hold your own head up while sitting on our laps or propped up in your bumbo seat. You can grab and squeeze our fingers and pull on our hair or jewelry. And those tiny little drumsticks you call legs can kick with enough force to boot the cat away when you don't want to share cuddle time with Mummy.  

I can't wrap my head around the fact that Daddy has taught you how to grab our fingers and pull yourself up into a standing position already. Granted,you don't have enough balance to do this on your own yet, and your cute little bandy legs wobble as your tooshy  sticks out too far behind you. But it won't take you long to get it. 

You're so clever. You've learned that you can summon us from any part of the house to your side within seconds with your noises. Whether it's the "uh uh uh" sound that tells me it's feeding time, the coughing sound we've dubbed "the fake out", which is essentially a five second warning that you're about to start screaming the house down, or the grunts that signal that it's poopy time. Our days now revolve around these noises in whatever combination you choose to apply them. Food, poop, cry, poop. Poop, cry, cry, food, food, food, poop, poop, poop... You're doing a pretty amazing job letting us know what you need. 

You are VERY particular!!

You prefer side-by-side feeding to upright feeding. Not such a bad thing for mummy either, as it gives me 20 minutes or so to close my eyes or read a book or write this blog.  

You are always awake at 2.30am. Whether it's because you've woken for a feed-poop-cry or we're winding down from an anti-nap marathon, it doesn't matter. When I see that magic time flash up on the clock in our bedroom I know it's nearly time for us all to close our eyes and sleep. 

You will only fall asleep wrapped around someone's belly. We've tried all manner of soothing but the one old faithful settling position remains the same; belly to belly, legs wrapped around as far as they'll go, head wedged in between boobies or nuzzled into an armpit. Nothing works better and hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it, right?!

You prefer showers with Mum or Dad to baths. You do love kicking about in a bubble bath, no doubt about it. But a warm shower can turn screaming Gracie into calm Gracie in about five seconds flat. So you'll cling onto us, looking like a drenched monkey, while we shampoo your hair and wash your bottom. And you'll cry the minute we wrap you in a fluffy towel because you're never quite ready for it all to be over.  

You enjoy a car ride under two circumstances: a) you're asleep OR b) we're speeding down the highway, there is no traffic, no stop signs, no traffic lights, no deceleration. 50km/hr seems to be the magic number. Anything slower than that invokes a very unhappy scream session. 

You dislike doing poos or having the farts with a passion. It would seem that even though both of these habits occur at least eight times a day for you dear girl, you're never quite prepared. The sheer act of cracking a fart offends you so much you have to let the whole neighborhood know about it. I would have thought that practice makes perfect, but apparently not when it comes to matters of the poopy kind. 

And most importantly our little Gracie-girl, you are loved! You are loved in the purest, most intense form of the act. Your Mummy and Daddy love you in a way that makes their lives richer.  In a way that brings a sense of peace to the heart. You are loved unconditionally, without judgement and without expectation.  You can be who you want to be and we'll stand behind you cheering you on every day of your life. 

 

We have all the time in the world to get to know each other, my sweet girl. And I can not wait, because these first weeks have already been so fulfilling. 

And then there were three - Our birth story

                                

Sunny Baby came into the world on Monday the 28th of October, at 9.16pm surrounded by an operating theatre full of buzzing doctors and nurses. It was not the delivery we had been expecting, but it was an entrance fit for a baby girl who kept us on our toes for the entire 41 weeks leading up to the big event.  And it was perfect; in all of its surprise, intensity and wonder. It was the perfect way to welcome our first child, our daughter, Grace. 

Grace was delivered via emergency c-section following a tense consultation with our OB on Monday morning. I had developed toxaemia and pre-eclampsia over the weekend and had been feeling less than wonderful. I had not slept at all the night before and spent much of my waking hours praying for labour to start and my waters to break. But come time to head into town for our appointment neither had happened. I was a misery-guts of exhaustion and discomfort. I had been encouraged by my sister, during a phone call I'd made to whinge about it all, to take my bags in case the doctor chose to do an internal and my membranes broke. I told myself that I was taking my bags with the intention of refusing to come home until this baby was delivered. I would sit in his waiting room and protest until I got my way. But it turned out that none of that was necessary. Our OB rechecked my blood and urine results, as well as my blood pressure which had shot up to 180/99, and immediately decided it was time to get the baby out. We were given two options: start induction medications and wait for labour to progress overnight or have an emergency c-section later that night. 

So many things ran through my mind in those next few moments. I was simultaneously frustrated, scared and relieved. I was frustrated that after everything else I was potentially going to lose the experience of labour and birthing my baby because my body was no longer coping with carrying; scared that she could be in trouble and that we'd waited all weekend for results that should have been read to us and acted on three days earlier; and relieved that either option given to us meant that our baby girl would be in the world within 24hours. Hubby and I had no idea which was the better option so we left the final decision to our doctor. He chose c-section and I cried. 

We were taken straight to the maternity ward where I was admitted, showered, shaved and starved for several hours prior to the big event. Hubby kept me entertained while I sulked about how hungry I was. We called our parents and informed them of their impending grandparenthood. Hubby got to play dress up in a pair of hospital-issue green scrubs, and then we were collected for theatre. Everything from that point on is a bit of a fuzzy blur of events. 

I didn't do all those things you're meant to do, or meant to ask for. I didn't get her placed directly onto my chest for skin to skin. I didn't ask them to allow the cord to finish pulsing before it was cut.  I didn't ask hubby to take photos. We had decided that after everything that had happened, and with no idea of what to expect next, we needed just to present together throughout the birth. He would not leave my side until she was safely delivered, and I would not feel as scared because he did.  I remember Hubby holding my hand while the spinal block was administered. I remember getting in trouble for flinching when the anaesthetist jabbed me in my spine. I remember feeling like my legs were in the air the entire time and asking Hubby if I was breathing properly because I couldn't feel my lungs moving and my face was becoming hot. I remember panicking slightly that I may fall asleep, miss the birth of our first child and never wake up.  

But despite all of my fears and anxieties, with Hubby sitting calmly by my side stroking my hair and holding my hand, we finally heard the slurping of suction and a tiny, startled cry from behind the drape. A cry that I instinctively and instantly recognised as from one of my own; as if I'd heard it a thousand times before. And within a blink she was being presented to us fresh and warm, pink and new. Our baby girl was finally here.   Hubby was taken aside to hold our daughter for the first time, cut her beautiful life-giving umbilical cord and watch as the midwife and paediatrician confirmed what we already knew; she was perfect.  All the while I watched from a few meters away as her little legs kicked in the air and her Daddy beamed over her.  She was then brought over to where I lay waiting, placed on my chest and opened her eyes to look straight into mine.  In that moment I fell in love.  In that moment I knew the most important purpose of my life was to now be her parent; her mother.  In that moment I felt absolutely, soul-liftingly complete.  Our little bubble of two was now a family bubble of three.

40 weeks and 2 days - time to come out now Baby

So we all know how fabulously I handle having to wait for things?  Well this week is killing me!!  I know babies don't always come on time, and I know that Sunny Baby will make her grand entrance when she is ready, but WHY OH WHY couldn't she have arrived on her due date so that her Mummy doesn't have to endure more waiting?  

Hubby and I joke that she will indeed have her Dad's sense of timing (when she's good and ready) and not be the organised, scheduling freak her Mum is.  And that may be a good thing; we'll soon find out anyway!  Otherwise I think she may be waiting for our lovely OB to get back from his vacation, which isn't until Monday (40+4).  Either way, I am teetering on the edge of insanity as my sleep schedule becomes smaller and smaller, and my belly keeps getting bigger and bigger, and I seem to be losing the last scrap on my sane mind to nesting and sleep deprivation.  

Sunny Baby
Have no fear, she is doing just fine.  Having an extra long sleep in seems to be doing her the world of good.  Intra-uterine life seems to be the way to go. Food on demand, sleeping all day long, have an occasional stretch and bout of hiccups.  She seems completely oblivious to the fact that she no longer really fits in there very well, and those hard objects she's kicking around are my ribs and hips.  But oh well, such is the life.

In fact I think she's so happy in there that she continues to grow at rapid speed.  At our due date OB appointment this week she measured at a massive 44 weeks and had increased the weight estimation to 8.5 pounds; a whole two weeks and half a pound bigger than last week.  I sure can bake 'em well!

I've started having dreams about what she's going to look like.  I haven't had any appearance-specific dreams about her before now.  In fact, she hasn't ever really made my dream rotation at all until now.  In my dreams she is born with beautiful, thick dark hair and dark brown eyes like her Dad, but has my lips. I don't imagine she'll get many of my features, like the green eyes or blonde hair, but that's ok.  I've always thought Hubby is quite aesthetically pleasing, so she'll be a lucky little thing if she ends up looking just like him :)

Belly
Oh my goodness, what a mess this has become!  I have gone from having very few small stretch marks, to a stomach covered in fresh, bright pink, itching tiger stripes over the last fortnight.  The appearance doesn't bother me so much because they tend to fade into regular skin tone pretty quick, but the stretching, pulling, burning and itching sensation is driving me up the wall.  I've been keeping a tube of either moisturiser, body butter or tissue oil in every room of the house for those extra annoying moments when I want to peel my skin off, but so far I am losing the battle.  Otherwise I continue to grow rounder and lower.

Symptoms
Where to begin? (now I feel like a whinger)  
I have not been sleeping well at all for the last fortnight.  I think it's a combination of no longer have a regular daily routine and pregnancy hormones. If I'm really super tired, I can usually get around four or five hours a night, but only after about 3am and only after I've eaten two pieces of toast, a glass of milo and guzzled down half a bottle of Gaviscon for the wicked acid reflux which has suddenly come on.  On days like these I make sure I have an afternoon nap so I can try to catch up and restore in preparation for the impending labour.

Oh and the peeing!  Holy moley, I don't think I've ever needed to pee so much and so frequently in all my life.  Just when I finally roll my whale of a self into a comfortable enough position to sleep, I have to roll myself out of bed again to go to the bathroom.  What's up with that?  I swear last night I must have set some kind of twisted urinary record for the highest volume/time ratio.

Otherwise the nesting continues.  I have completely cleaned, dusted, polished, redecorated and resorted our lounge and dining rooms in an attempt to make space for baby bouncers, bassinets and the barrage of visitors we're going to have in the next few weeks.  And it was all looking beautiful and magazine-like until we actually had to use the lounge to sit on and all the cushions got thrown around and the coffee table got moved and I gave up the idea of having a perfectly styled house.  Instead I've settled for clean and practical.  Oh well, didn't really have anything else to use those four hours on yesterday...

Nursery
The nursery has been done for weeks now.  Every day I pop my head in and marvel at the transformation from guest bed/studio to Sunny Baby's room.  I sit down on the day bed and stare at all the little nick-knacks that babies require to keep them bathed, dressed, happy, comfortable and imagine myself using them in the not too distant future.  

Our beloved old lady cat, The Boo, has taken it upon herself to test each and every soft surface for quality and comfort.  So far I have found her in the cot, the bassinet, on top of the change table, in the bouncer and curled up inside the rolled up floor mat.  And so far they've all been given The Boo stamp of approval!  Bless her little heart for caring so darn much! 

 

Anyway, so that's about it for the time being.  I'll endeavour to keep you updated as the excitement continues.  I'm hoping that Sunny Baby decides to make her long-awaited appearance in the next couple of days, but who knows when exactly...

Despite all my griping this time, pregnancy really has been the greatest experience for me.  I have learned so much about what the human body is capable of; what my body is capable of.  It has given me back faith that even though I may not have been able to naturally create my children, I am able to carry them, grow them, nurture them, and that for me is so precious.  

I am not scared about the birthing experience.  I am excited and totally ready to face this next challenge, because I know at the end of it we'll be holding our gorgeous daughter in our arms.           

36 weeks - Are we there yet?

Eeeek, I've only just realised that it's been 10 weeks since I last posted any updates on here.  I occasionally remember to pop onto Facebook and update my status there, so if you feel you're missing out please stop by that page.  But in the meantime I'll get my butt into gear and write a proper post for you...

So the last 10 weeks have flown by!  We went from 26 weeks gestation and terrified that Sunny Baby would come too soon, to crossing days and weeks off the calendar like there'd never been a problem at all. And for every day that passed by and the amniotic leaking didn't continue as greatly we have been more and more grateful.  

Sunny Baby
All I can say is "Go baby, go!"  She is doing exceptionally well.  From about the 28 week mark she began to grow like crazy; measuring almost three to four weeks ahead in length and weight.  It was almost like she overheard how scared we were for her tiny little body to be born too soon, and decided then and there to prove us wrong. Bless her little heart.

At 30 weeks she was measuring at 34 in length, and just recently at the 36 week checkup she was a very ripe 38 weeks in length, and had an estimated weight of just over eight pounds.  Our little girl is definitely not at risk of being premature and tiny any more!

The Belly
I had myself fooled that I was maybe going to get away with not developing any stretch marks on my stomach.  And everything was going to plan until week 34 when I started to feel a definite stretch and itch above and below my belly-button.  So now both my boobs and my belly look like I've painted big, bright sun rays around them.  I don't really mind that much; they could have been a lot worse from a lot earlier in the pregnancy.

The drop has definitely happened now.  Sunny Baby is head down and ready for action, and loves to spend almost 16 hours a day curled into a tiny wombat ball with her back to my skin, leaving me with an adorable little "butt shelf" as we have affectionately named it.  Mind you, the minute I am in any position other than upright, she'll have a lovely big stretch and push her tootsies up against my ribs.  This makes sleeping, breathing, eating, and moving about a bit of a challenge.  But my bedtime pillow fortress, which seems to multiple as the weeks go by, is helping to keep me comfortable enough to doze off.

36 weeks

Symptoms
I think I've said it before, and I'll say it again...I'm super skeptical about all the "what to expect" books full of advice and what feels like step-by-step instructions to pregnancy.  So when you get to the section on the third trimester and they describe how the very special, new mummy section of your brain starts to take over your every action and thought, I automatically think "Pfffft, yeah right!"  Silly me!  

I don't know exactly when my brain snapped into crazy pregnant lady phase, but it's absolutely happened!  I find myself rearranging the linen cupboard and Sunny Hubby's shoe closet late at night.  I have made and remade the cot linen several times over to make sure it is absolutely, perfectly straight and tucked in.  It will be 36'C outside, my feet and hands so swollen I barely bend them, and yet I'll be sweeping the floor and hanging out multiple loads of washing.  WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME?!  

Damn you baby books, damn you for being right!  I don't mind the rationally organised portion of this brain takeover.  Granted the bags are packed, the capsule is in the car, the nursery is set up with weeks to spare.  But the incessant need to clean and organise junk that has already been cleaned and organised?  What's that about!?!?!  Oh well, only a couple of weeks to go!

And speaking of the countdown, would anyone else like to take bets on when Sunny Baby will enter the world?  So far there have been a few guesses:  
October 1st (tomorrow!) 
October 5-6th (this weekend; 37+3 weeks) 
October 10th (38 weeks) or 
October 28th (40+4 weeks)

If she's anything like her Daddy, which she will undoubtedly be, she'll come in her own time, when she's good and ready.  And when we least expect it!

Nursery
I have finally got around to doing a before and after of the room that that is now proudly transformed into our nursery. 

 
As you can see, Hubby's music studio needed to go in order for Sunny Baby to get her own room.  It was a big challenge finding somewhere else in the house to set up all of his gear, but we came to a very nice compromise.  Over the space of about a week, Hubby packed and stored all the furniture and equipment that wasn't being relocated and put it all in storage.  He then shampooed the walls, carpets, blinds, windows, and wardrobe, then set about building the bed and cot.  Here's the linen he chose for the cot and single bed...

I think he's done an amazing job!   
We still have a bit of decorating to go.  I have ordered some prints I made for the walls to brighten it all up a little more, and there is a bouncer and floor play mat to be set up.
We have chosen to put a bassinet in our room for the first few months after Sunny Baby comes home from the hospital.  Just until she is in a more settled feeding and sleeping routine, and after we get this long, hot Spring/Summer out of the way.

I finally feel as though everything is in its rightful place and that we are ready with open arms, for our little girl to come into the world.  I'm not scared for her health anymore; she's a strong little poppet and has proven that over the last 10 weeks.  I'm not nervous about the delivery; we will be in great hands with our doctor and his midwives.  I don't have overwhelming thoughts about lack of sleep and change of lifestyle that come with a newborn; Hubby and I have waited a very long time for our precious girl, and during that time we have grown stronger as a couple, as a team.  Whatever madness comes next we can handle it, together.  And I can not wait!    

What happened to my belly button? An update from 26 weeks

I would have liked to get another pregnancy update on here sooner.  I had one for 24 weeks all pre-written but didn't get around the posting it.  

A lot has happened since week 20.  The Sunny house has been abuzz with nervous excitement at the development of a few little hiccups along the road to growing a healthy little human.    Just as we become comfortable with the idea that this pregnancy was going smoothly, a few surprises start to pop up to shake us back to reality.  Let's face it, growing a person is hard work, and if you've never done it before it can be there are some things that can scare the life out of you on a daily basis.  Things I wish I had known more about so we wouldn't have a minor heart attack when they happen.

BUT, as prepared as we think we are, we never really know what's around the corner.  You could read all the "what to expect" books ever written and still something completely unusual will come and scare the bajeebers out of you.  Sunny Baby is proof of that!  And in all my nursey wisdom, with all my experience in the strange and fascinating happenings of the human body, I will still put pregnancy down as the most incredible, awe-inspiring, unpredictable thing a human person can do!  From the sperm and egg, to those tiny little blastocysts, to our now 26 week old baby.  I am completely mesmerised!  

Sunny Baby
Sunny Baby's growth has definitely picked up speed now.  Some days I can feel her kicking both my bladder and my ribs simultaneously.  I was trying to describe this sensation to a friend not long ago and the best analogy I could think of was that it felt like a ninja octopus had taken over my abdomen.  And she is so stinkin' strong now too.  Sunny Hubby can put his hands over my belly and feel as she runs her little feet down my skin, and seconds later boot his hand away.  Meal times seem to make her even more excited and active!  Certain foods, such as curries and thai food create a flurry of movements only minutes after I've eaten.  We're not convinced yet whether that means she enjoys it or hates it.  But it's certainly fun to watch and feel.

She's measuring in perfectly at her four-weekly check ups.  I think at 24 weeks they told us she was going to be long and lean.  We weren't surprised in the least to hear that.  It seems to be a bit of a Sunny Family tradition to have tall, thin babies.  Mind you, so far they've all weighed over 7.5pounds so they're not little at all.

It's definitely sunk in that she is in fact a girl.  And now that I think about her, I couldn't imagine her as anything else.  She's also officially got a name all picked out.  It's a name we had decided we loved years ago, but one day Hubby and I were casually chatting and I referred to her as the name and it's been stuck ever since.  So far, only our close family know what her full name will be.  For everyone else, you'll just have to wait til her big arrival day!

And as for how she's fared through all the drama (which I'll tell you about in a minute)... Well, to be perfectly honest, she hasn't even noticed.  She's just kept on swimming around in her little bubble, safe and sound.  And for that I have never been more grateful!

The Belly
You want a belly picture?  Well I've got a belly picture for you!  

Starting with 12 weeks at the top left, and in 4-week intervals finishing with 26 weeks at bottom left.

Depending on how high or low she sits I either look perfectly on track with 26 weeks, or ahead by a few.  I don't mind either way.  

My belly button has completely disappeared now.  For a few weeks it gave up a good fight, only popping on top and staying a nice little half concave on the bottom.  Now it's neither popped or concave, it's just flattened out totally, as if it never existed at all.

Still no major stretch marks on my belly.  My poor boobs have copped it though.  As they continue to expand and get heavier I've developed some dark purple marks around my nipples.  They're not too big at this stage and I'm hoping they don't continue to spread out.  I'm completely loving the crap out of Vitamin E oil to keep everything hydrated and less irritated. And my stash of wirefree bras is increasing.  I even got myself one of the 'Ah Bras' kind of as a joke to wear to bed, but it's AMAZING!  I got an extra one with padding so I don't have pointy nipple syndrome when I wear nice shirts.  Another brand that make awesome maternity/wireless bras is Berlei.  They're a little more expensive but are completely worth it. Plus they give you excellent cleavage before bub comes along!

Symptoms
Now this is where it all gets a little nerve-wracking.  

Around 24 weeks I had a very small bleed.  My OB was away at the time and so I took myself to my GP to be checked out.  If the bleed had of been more than a pantyliner's worth I would have gone straight to the hospital, but it wasn't, and in an attempt not to freak myself out, the GP was the best call.  He checked me out, did the usual observations and reassured me that my BP was perfect and Baby's heart rate was too.  He read through my morphology report, and based on a comment about how low down near my cervix the placenta was attached, concluded that I'd had a small blood vessel break.  This can be caused by a few things, but most-likely related to Baby's rate of growth and the strength of her kicking.    I was sent home to bed and monitor for further bleeding, which never happened.

All was continuing on stress-free until about five days ago.  As I was shifting myself in bed to get comfortable I noticed a wet patch on my pajama pants, and then realised that my undies also felt quite damp.  I eased myself out of bed and straight into the bathroom to check what was going on.  On my way to the loo I had another trickle of fluid run down my leg.  I honestly had no idea what was going on.  Was this normal discharge, was this supposed to happen??  I called out for Hubby to come upstairs and survey what was happening, and we immediately decided it was time to call the midwives for advice.  

I spoke with a lovely older lady who instructed us to come into the hospital as soon as we could.  She was concerned that my membranes had ruptured, and after my heart stopped for what felt like a whole minute, I quietly explained to her that we were only just 26 weeks along.  She did her best to calm me over the phone, while Hubby got changed and collected all our important paperwork.  We got to the hospital within 20minutes and were taken straight into antenatal assessment.  I had a midwife feel and sniff (??) my sanitary pad and then take mine and Baby's observations.  Again, my BP was normal and Baby's heart rate was perfect, though it did take the midwife a very nerve-wracking three minutes to find.  The midwife calmly suggested that I may have just peed myself a little and hadn't realised.  I was mortified and couldn't imagine how I'd get that mixed up with having PV loss.  I explained again how it'd happened not five minutes after I'd been to the bathroom to pee anyway. 

By this time it was close to 11.30pm, so the  midwife called our doctor and we were instructed that I was to be admitted overnight for observation.  Of course, we were not prepared for an admission.  I had literally thrown on the oldest pair of trackpants I could find lying on our bedroom floor and an oversized jumper.  Hubby was allowed to stay long enough to help fill in the admissions paperwork and then we had to say goodnight.

I can not put into words how scared we were saying goodbye to each other that night.  Hubby kept asking if I was ok to be alone and checking with the midwives that they promised to call him if ANYTHING happened overnight.  He kissed my forehead and my belly, and then he left.  

Thankfully we had an uneventful night.  I was woken every two hours or so for pad checks, which were all dry, and to check my BP.  The midwife came in again around 5am and checked Baby's heart rate and was swiftly kicked off my belly by a very strong little foot.  Our OB dropped by later that morning and explained that I had a possible high placental leak, which was causing a slow, intermittent release of amniotic fluid from somewhere under my ribs.  He said that if it kept happening on a regular basis that I would need admitting for antibiotics and steroids to speed up Baby's growth.  He would be happy to reach 28 to 32 weeks before delivery, but would preferably like to get me to 34 weeks.  I disagreed and told him 36 weeks was my goal, to which he just giggled and told us to be prepared either way.  

Later that day I was allowed home on bed rest.  I could return to work after four days, unless any more major loss occurred.  And so far so good!  Our altered timeline has really jump-started our preparations for Baby's arrival.  We came home from the hospital and realised how unprepared we still are, and that despite all the lists in baby books about what you need for birth and afterwards, we would be happy if we had the bare essentials ready to go. 

I am still praying that she remains safe and warm in my uterus until she's full term.  But am realistic about the idea of her early arrival.  From now on I'll be delegating a lot more, and starting to wind down at work in preparation for a possible early exit.  But we'll just see what each day brings.  

Nursery
I really wish I'd taken photos of the steps it's taken to get our second room transformed from music/guest room into a nursery.  It's still not 100% complete, but it sure has come a long way in the last month.  All of Hubby's music equipment is now in storage or set up in a nice compact spot in our living room.  The wardrobe has been stripped and restocked so that it's only half storage and half baby stuff.  The bookshelf has been cleared out and the books boxed up, and in their place are cute little baskets for all of the baby clothes and wraps.  She even has a toy shelf, which gets fuller by the day.

Our gorgeous friends dropped off their incredible Boori cot a few weeks ago and it sits warmly against the wall with all the sunshine.  Hubby has even picked out the cot and single bed linen all ready to put on when it's all washed and smelling fresh.  Our brand new Steelcraft pram and car capsule remain packed in their boxes, ready to assemble at a moments notice.  

We've got more amazing friends coming next weekend to help us sort and pack up our garage, which has mostly been a dumping ground and storage unit for the last three years.  Once this is done, the double bed can come out of the second bedroom and all the assembly can begin on the cot and single/day bed.  And once that's done, we're pretty much finished!

I'll be sure to attach a photo of the finished nursery once it's all done and dusted.  And I'm sure the longer Sunny Baby holds off from gracing us with her presence, the more we'll be able to decorate her room.  But until then, I'm so grateful for the basics.