Happy Birthday Junior C

Dear Junior C,

How exciting! You're a year old already!! We have already started thinking about trying for a little brother or sister (crossing fingers) for you...but that's another story.

This is about you. And the amazing year we've had so far. We celebrated that year with two parties! One party was with your family in Perth, and one party was in Canberra with your baby friends. You are a very lucky little boy.

You have changed so unbelievably much. You're really growing into a little person. You are very happy and easy going, even though your daddy says you're very serious. People are always commenting on how cute you are and how they want to steal your gorgeous, long eyelashes.

You're a well travelled baby. You've been to Perth twice, Tonga once, the Central Coast and Sydney numerous times. You are loving your swimming lessons, but you still can't blow bubbles in the water yet. We go to mothers group every Thursday. You love going for walks in your pram. And we love taking you in the pram because you fall asleep.  Last weekend we took you for a ride in your bike trailer and you fell asleep on the way to the shops and the way back.

You take after me with your very healthy appetite, which makes me so proud! But you take after your daddy in the sleeping category, and you STILL haven't slept through the night yet. But I've resigned to the fact that this is my lot in life. To cater to your needs during the day AND the night. Unfortunately, you have been cursed with mummy's eczema riddled skin and you have terrible rashes behind your knees, elbows and wrists as well as on your collar bone. And it looks like it's spreading. I'm so sorry, my baby!! I hope you grow out of it like the doctor said!

You have 8 teeth that I can see. You can't walk yet, but you are crawling around everywhere! You can pull yourself up and stand while holding on to something. You can wave good bye. You say Mum-mum and Da-da. You and daddy love to wrestle on the ground. "Blurred Lines" by Robin Thicke was your absolute favourite song. It would always make you smile and dance every time without fail. We know this because we tested it during one of your tantrums. But now we've discovered a new wonder song, "Roar" by Katy Perry. Only this song has a more hypnotising effect on you. You are definitely a little groover.

You are an amazing little kid. I am so proud of you and I feel so lucky to be your Mum.

Love you,
Mum-Mum

Little Band-Aid Solutions

I have a friend who has an autistic son. It has been a real trial for her as he has limited function. Perhaps her greatest struggle is with people's "good intentions".

Many times she has recieved comments that are both insensitive and ignorant. One person once told her that Autism is the result of vaccinations. How nice to hear that someone thinks you deliberately had your son injected with a vaccination riddled with autism. And then to live in regret, wondering, "if only I hadn't gotten my son vaccinated!" Well that would have fixed everything now, wouldn't it? Not only does it offer constructive help for her situation, it also leaves her feeling so much more positive about it. Not.

This is probably one of our strongest bonds between my friend and I. We had both been on the receiving of these well intentioned criticisms. Only I had to suffer in silence and nod dumbly in agreement. "OK! Let's just throw out a joke I've prepared earlier and deflect this whole conversation away from the grating truth!!"

My mother-in-law had innocently made a remark about a friend of hers who was struggling with IVF. She unwittingly made some comments that she would not have said if she had known about the struggle her son and I had in conceiving her grandchild. As her friend's husband worked away a lot, she remarked how the lack of sex wasn't helping. This really grated against my nerve, as we all know that you could be having sex 5 times every week and you still won't fall pregnant unless you do it in that small window of opportunity. And even then! It's not going to fix cysts on someone's ovaries. Or increase someone's sperm count. Or regulate someone's menstrual cycle. The sex isn't the problem. It never was. And the frequency of it has little to do with it either.

Unfortunately, it's easy for other people to apply a simple little band aid to fix the gaping wound of a problem they don't understand. Sigh.

My labour story: The gory details

Dear Junior C,

Well Little One, this is the story of how you came into this world. I was stressed to the max, waiting in anticipation for your arrival. I was worried that your Nana would totally miss out on seeing you, and she would fly back to New Zealand "empty handed".

It was one day past your due date, and I went to bed early as it was exhausting carrying you around all day. I woke around 2am. As I shifted you in my belly to my other side, I felt a little trickle. I rushed to the toilet and confirmed that my waters had broken. But I was still a little unsure if I was in labour because there was no "show" yet. So I went back to bed and could feel contractions straight away. They weren't too bad, they were only 10 minutes apart. I must have laid there in bed for 2 hours, counting my contractions. The bloody show made it's appearance around 4.30am.

At 5am, I got up and waddled around the living room. I decided to call the hospital and get their advice. I spoke to the nurse while I bounced on the exercise ball. She told me to get ready and come into the hospital so they could check me and my progress. There was no rush. So I pottered around the house, getting my bags ready (and more importantly - my snacks!)

Daddy was still faaaast asleeep.

Daddy woke up around 6am and he laid in bed playing on his mobile (as usual).
I said to him, "Get up Lazy!"
He yawned and said, "Whhyyy?"
"'Cause we're going to the hospital."
"What for?"
"Um...to have a baby!"
"Oh! NOW?!"
"Yes. But please, have a shower first."

We got to the hospital around 8am and we were shown to the labour ward. It was a nice big room, with my own bathroom. The mid wife checked me, and confirmed that I was indeed in labour. I was 3cm dilated. How exciting!

I got to strip down (yet again) and get into my sexy hospital gown. We were there in time for morning tea, so I got to enjoy some cake and a cup of tea. Daddy was timing my contractions using an app that I had downloaded the week before. But not much was happening, so we were moved down to my post natal ward to wait until my labour had progressed a bit more. Daddy and I watched some terrible daytime TV. We were laughing and making jokes. The nurse told us I was enjoying myself too much, so I must still be in the early stages. She said, "Call me when you stop laughing!"

We were there for a while and it got quite boring...until around 1pm. Things were getting a bit more intense. Contractions were coming every 5 minutes. And there were getting stronger and lasting longer. By 3pm, I was straddled over the top of the bed. I wanted to see my nurse. I wasn't laughing anymore. I was hyperventilating. My whole lower body was tingling and I could barely feel my legs. She gave me some oxygen. She checked me again and said I was 6cm dilated. I was progressing well. She asked if I wanted any drugs for the pain. But I declined because she told me labour would probably only take another 4 hours max. I thought, "Sure! I can handle that!"

Well...I lasted an hour. I asked for drugs. I opted for pethidine. She injected it into my shoulder and I was off with the fairies! It felt like I was floating outside of my body. I could feel the contractions coming, but I would "pass out" half way through and forget to breathe. Daddy had to hold me and walk me around the room because I couldn't hold myself up. I couldn't even sit up in bed!

I couldn't remember the next hour very well. But around 6pm, the nurse came back in to check my cervix. I hadn't dilated in 3 hours. I was still only 6cm. My labour had stalled, contractions were slowing down. And you were getting very distressed because you couldn't get out. Daddy was watching your heart rate on the monitor and it shot through the roof at every contraction.

The nurses left the room and contacted my obstetrician. The doctor came into the room around 7.30pm. He told us that because labour had stalled, he didn't know how much longer labour would take. I could have been there for another 8 hours! And even then, you may not have made any more progress. Also, due to the shape of my pelvis, your little head was just not going to fit. "It was like trying to fit a round peg, through a square hole." And besides, my body was giving up. You were getting very distressed. It was time for you to come out.

So we signed the forms for an emergency cesarean. I was wheeled off to theatre. Daddy was made to wait outside while they put the spinal block in. It took them a good 20 minutes because the anesthetist couldn't find the right spot...(mummy has a crooked spine). It was incredibly challenging trying to arch my back like a hissing cat when I had a big beach ball belly in my way!

I was laid flat on the table. A curtain was put up over my chest and daddy was called in. He stood next me, by my shoulders. I couldn't feel anything below my waist because of the spinal block. But I could feel the doctor tugging and rummaging around. He asked me to give one push (which made me giggle because I couldn't feel it). He told daddy to get his camera ready, and then he lifted you out and held you up for daddy to see. You were born at 9.34pm.

I heard you cry, but I didn't get to see you straight away. Daddy went with the nurse to weigh you and cut your umbilical cord. Then they brought you back and I got to see your swollen little face. Daddy took you back to my room and I had to spend another 45 minutes in recovery before I could see you again.

When I got to my room, daddy put you in my arms. You were so tiny! Which is funny because you felt really big inside my belly!!

And there you go. You were a healthy baby boy, who loved to sleep and eat. You're 3 months now, and I've already forgotten how bad the gory details were. Lucky you've made up for it by now!

Happy Transfer Anniversary!

A special post today. One year ago,  little Jnr C was transferred back inside after his little jaunt in the petrie dish. The embryologist described him as "beautiful". And we got to see him as a beautiful embryo on the screen before he was transferred back in. How strange! Not many people can claim to have seen their children as embryos!

I remember feeling so...uncertain, excited, overwhelmed...yet, giggly all the same. Stress does that to me. But, I remember it being a good day (despite some uncomfortable awkwardness). I had a lot of laughs. I remember seeing my doctor as I was leaving the clinic, and joking with him, "Yep, I feel pregnant already!"

I had no idea what was in store for me. And to my past self I say, "High five! Well done!!"

Definitely no regrets!!

This time last year...

It's 10pm and I'm heading off to bed. I quickly duck into the nursery to check on Jnr C, and he lays there perfectly still, quietly breathing. He hasn't moved since I put him in his cot at 7.30pm. He has the most perfect, angelic face when he's asleep...sigh.

I can't believe how lucky I am. I know that I'm approaching the anniversary of when we got the positive test result, so I think back to where we were this time a year ago. It's hard to believe how much can change in a year.

This time last year:

• We had just started our first IVF cycle.
• I had been pumping Synarel up my nose for 10 days.
• We were enjoying the beautiful, sunny beaches of Perth.
• We were living in our own home.
• I had a great, full time job that I loved.
• And I was facing a whole new chapter of uncertainty, which I was totally scared, yet cautiously optimistic about. Let's face it - I was crapping myself.

And here we are. Living in a rented house in Canberra, 2 hours away from the closest beach. Enjoying a new full time role as a mum, which I'm growing to love more and more. And looking at the sweet face of my little boy. 

I would like to take my past self aside and tell her, "You will overcome your nervous diahorrea issue. This will be one of the best decisions you have ever made and, as always, you will follow it through with determination and surprising ease."

So much can change in a year.

Welcome to motherhood

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I may have been teetering on the precipice for a while, but I am happy to report that I am now the mother of a beautiful, healthy baby boy - Jnr C. After what seemed like an agonising last few weeks, Jnr C came into this world via emergency C-Section.

I was expecting a natural labour, so was not prepared for the cesarean at all. Labour started to get more intense 6 or 7 hours after I arrived at the hospital. In fact I was in hospital for a total of 14 hours before Jnr C made his appearance. Once the decision had been made to go into theatre, everything happened really quickly. I was laid on the table after they inserted the spinal block and a curtain was put up above my chest so I couldn't see the doctors rummaging around in the basement. My husband was called in and 10 minutes later the sharp cries of little Jnr C pierced the air.

It was the most surreal moment. All the years of trying. All the months of incubating. All the hours of labour. And it was over in 10 minutes. I had a son. I was a mum.

They held this greyish, wrinkly, wriggly little stranger above my face and I looked into his swollen little eyes. And no, I wasn't overwhelmed with a flood of emotion or instant love. I was stunned. I felt so removed from the whole process. My memory of his birth will always be looking at a kaleidoscope of lights above me and a blue curtain. Even when my husband showed me pictures of the doctor holding Jnr C above my opened "handbag," I still couldn't identify with what I was looking at. I was so detached from that moment, it was like I was looking at the pictures of the birth of someone else's baby. I missed out on seeing him come from my body. At least my husband got to see it, take him over to get weighed AND cut his umbilical cord.

And Jnr C remained a stranger to me for a while afterwards. It was still hard for me to grasp the enormity of finally reaching the goal I had worked towards for so many years. Just like my pregnancy, I kept waiting for someone to rip the rug from right under my feet. I would also look at his little sleeping face and feel immense responsibility for this little man. I was somebody's mother and he needed me. It scared me.

The days passed, my confidence grew. I slowly recovered. My energy slowly returned. Now he looks into my eyes and I realise, I am his mother and he needs me. And with that one look, he makes me melt. I am in love. I want to make everything better for him. I want to make him smile everyday. I never want him to stop looking at me like that. How many times can I kiss that kid? Not enough.

Jnr C will be 10 weeks tomorrow. Those weeks have gone by so fast and I can't wait for the next 10.