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! 

Guest Blog - My Little Soldiers

When my wife and I were struggling to make a baby I found it hard to vocalize my feelings. My failure at fatherhood ate away at my very being and made me feel less of a man. Friends later told me that my body was physically hunched from the emotional weight of my baby wait. I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone and certainly not mates. I would walk past children playing in the park and I’d feel my heart breaking into tiny pieces. Consumed by Bugaboo envy I’d see couples pushing their baby strollers and want to punch them in the face. I would oscillate wildly between anger and depression. After learning a friend of ours was pregnant I didn’t leave my bedroom for two days.

But although as a couple we were, by the World Health Organisation’s definition, officially infertile there was one small life raft I could hold onto – it wasn’t me with “the problem”.

I am ashamed to admit that when my wife and I both had our fertility tests I sat in the doctor’s room waiting for the results silently praying that my sperm would not be judged to be ineffective and that instead it would be my wife’s eggs at fault. So when the doctor opened up his beige file of notes and read them in silence before matter-of-factly announcing that Iza had polycystic ovaries, I almost whooped for joy.

Imagining what it would be like for a man to have faulty sperm was the basis for my novel – My Little Soldiers.

In a modern world where the role of men is being questioned by men themselves, and conferences are even being held discussing what it is to be a man, male infertility is a very useful device for exploring modern masculinity, as well as a good arena for comic material. At its heart, my novel is an unconventional love story but I wanted the comedy, much of it drawn from my own experiences, to contrast the heartbreaking tale of loss and yearning.  

 
I hope the novel gets more men to open up about their infertility problems, and also for their partners to realise that whilst they may be on the frontline there is man next to them who is just as emotionally invested as they are.

Already one woman has told me that after reading it she saw her husband in a whole new light and for the first time they properly discussed their previous years miscarriage.  

My Little Soldiers – by Glenn Barden (Piranha Press) is available here http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00IX5S6MI
Extracts can also be read at www.mylittlesoldiers.net
Twitter: @glennbarden    Facebook: www.facebook.com/mylittlesoldiers

My first Mother's Day

My first Mother's Day with a baby in the world was a very sweet affair. I had told Hubby that I had no expectations or requests for the day, all I wanted was what I already had, our Gracie. 

I was four months pregnant last year on Mother's Day, and although I already felt like a mother we didn't really celebrate in a big way. Something along the lines of not jinxing things and rough patches and wanting to lay low meant the day was like any other, with the addition of a slightly swollen belly full of tiny arms and legs.  This year that tiny little body is a bouncy six month old baby girl, who goes by the name Gracie and is beautiful beyond compare.  This year I'm not worried about pregnancy stress, feotal development or morning sickness. All that has been replaced with blonde curls, early morning cuddles and a goofy smile. She is all we could have ever asked for.  And all we have ever wanted. 

My heart feels full. My home feels baby-fied. My Hubby is now a Daddy. I am her Mummy.  And I have never been happier. I have a lot to be thankful for. 

Happy Mother's Day to you all. I wish you a day full of things to be thankful for. 

Philadelphia Fertility Project

Recently Sunny Hubby and I have been approached by a number of university and college students from around the world to participate in research regarding the infertility experience.  It makes me happy and proud to be able to share our point of view and aid these students in researching such an important and life-altering topic, as we know that it effects so many couples and individuals around the world.

The most recent request came from a student named Hannah who is a Masters student in the Psychology Department at Drexel University, Philadelphia PA.  She has kindly asked me to share her questionnaire with you all.

Philadelphia Fertility Project

The purpose of this survey is to learn about the social, mental, and emotional experiences of women with fertility problems. It will take about 10 minutes to complete. Your participation is completely anonymous. Women who are between the ages of 18-45, not currently pregnant, and have difficulty conceiving naturally through unprotected intercourse and/or carrying a pregnancy to term are invited to participate in this study.

In appreciation of your participation, two $100 donations have been made to the American Fertility Association and Resolve: The National Infertility Association by the research team to thank you for sharing your experiences and to benefit others who struggle with fertility problems. If you have any questions about this study, you may contact the Principal Investigator, Dr. Pamela Geller, Ph.D., or the research coordinator, Mona Elgohail, at 215-553-7121

Click on this anonymous survey link to participate:http://tinyurl.com/PhillyFertility

I have already taken this survey.  It's quick and easy to fill out.  Lots of boxes to      tick and thought-provoking questions to answer.  So take 10 minutes and help further fertility research.

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! 

                          

                          

                          

               

Weekly brain dump

Teething sucks!  That's all...

                                     

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??