To sleep, perchance to dream.....

My baby doesn't sleep through the night.
I am up to feed him at least twice, occasionally three times between 9pm and 7am.
I am tired and sometimes I spend the day like a zombie.
There, I said it.
As a new mother I dream of sleep; a full nights sleep, climbing under the covers of my own bed, perhaps a couple of pages of a good book followed by a full 8 hours sleep, uninterrupted, beautiful sleep, waking up slowly, snuggling in the covers and who knows, I might even push my luck and dream of breakfast in bed.....
At the moment that scenario feels about as likely as a lottery win when you haven't even bought a ticket.  Sleep seems to monopolise my waking hours; even when I'm not dreaming about it I'm reading about it, talking about it, researching it........when I'm not wishing for sleep, I'm trying everything I can to avoid it, playing games, dancing round the front room. Trying to keep Edward awake in the vain hope that when the magic bedtime hour comes tonight will be the night and he'll sleep through the night!
Apparently 'sleeping through the night' in doctor talk just means 5 hours consecutive sleep, not quite the 8 hours I'm dreaming of but 5 hours would be a start!!! Edward likes 3 hours. You could set a clock by him. 

The first two nights after Edward was born were spent in the hospital, Edward was awake all night both nights, the first night I would feed him, he would fall asleep and I would put him in his cot and start to drift off, within minutes he'd be awake and a nurse would be at my side telling me he was hungry, and so she'd pass him to me ( I couldn't get out of bed because of the c-section) and I'd nurse him again, propped up in bed terrified of falling asleep and dropping him, he'd feed, fall asleep and I'd put him down only for the same thing to occur......the second night we went private (long story but the best decision we made). The midwife there was a whole different story, she was amazing and helped me to take Edward into my bed, latch him on and even fall asleep safely with him by my side. Half way through the night she came in and turned us both over, Edward spent the whole night feeding, sleeping, waking and feeding without having to disturb me. I was an instant fan of co-sleeping!

When we came home from the hospital the co sleeping continued; Eddie would sleep for 2-3 hours as long as he was on my chest or in my arms, face down on my chest was his favourite place.  As we were in such a small cottage this meant that Eddie and I cuddled up on the sofa each night and became adept at sleeping together without moving, Eddie woke up to feed every few hours but it didnt matter too much as I wasn't disturbed, we also took advantage of the afternoons at home to cuddle up and have a few hours sleep then too.  I'm not sure whether it was because Edward was born first thing in the morning or not but he really had his days and nights muddled up.

It wasn't until we moved house and Eddie had his own room that we really thought about him sleeping on his own, I was keen to try and get Eddie to sleep without having to resort to using the 'leave him to cry' tactic, no matter what they say about it not being upsetting in the long term for the baby, I just didn't think that I could handle it myself!! I read the 'No Cry Sleep Solution' and we followed the advice of putting him down to sleep on his own and going to him every time he cried no matter how many times this was; we would pick him up but not talk to him or rock him, just hold him until he calmed and then put him down. The first night Tristan and I went to him over 50 times in an hour and a half between us before he went down for the first time,  then he slept for 3 hours until he woke again!  We were pretty pleased with that! The following night we persevered and we only had to go to Eddie a dozen times (an improvement!).

The next night I was on my own, I was tired and I just wanted to be able to sink into a deep bath for an hour on my own, as it was I ended up sat outside Edwards bedroom until nearly 11pm before he settled properly.  It was tough but we stuck with it and it seemed to work....we were putting Edward to bed at 7.30/8pm and he was waking for a feed at 10pm then midnight, 3am and then waking for the day at 6am. Not too bad but it meant that by the time Tristan came home from work at nearly 7pm I was shattered and already ready to go to bed, we weren't going to see each other at all!

During many of the conversations that I had about sleep I heard from other mothers about how their children had been sleeping through the night, from 6 weeks of age, from 10 weeks of age, from 3 months, each of those ages has passed Edward by and he still likes waking up. We now put Edward to be at around 8.30pm in the hope that his day will start later, it worked for a few nights and then the constipation arrived! Poor little bubber, he was as keen as I was to stay asleep, he kept his little eyes squeezed tight shut but he wriggled and writhed quite clearly in pain.....I lay him next to me and rubbed his tummy in clockwise motions hoping to hear the little trumpy sounds associated with a bowel movement! Around 6 am I'd give in and we'd get up, I'd run him a warm bath and quite often that worked, never been so happy to see a bath full of poop!

Edward still has constipation, he is also teething and he has a chesty cough that breaks my heart, to be honest I'd have trouble sleeping with all that lot going on and I'm desperate for sleep!!! And I'm okay with that...I've been up tearing my hair out, I've beaten myself up about failing as everyone else seems to have a sleeping baby but now I'm embracing the statement, 'Babies don't have sleep problems, adults do.'!

I'm lucky enough not to have to get up for work in the morning, hell, I dont even have to leave the house if I dont want to, so I'm not letting the lack of sleep be a problem, I'm not stressing over set bedtimes, I'm not beating myself up because he sleeps better when he shares with me, I'm not worried about how many times he feeds in the night and I'm much happier.  He's 4 months old, he's got years ahead of him for sleeping, and no doubt if he's like his father, many more nights where he'll choose not to go to bed at all. 

I've decided that my baby doesn't have a sleep problem because I don't have a problem!

Would a babe by any other name smell as sweet...?

Names, there are literally thousands of them and it's up to us as parents to choose them. Parents give their children silly hair cuts; hair grows, parents dress their kids in silly clothes; they outgrow them, but a name, we're stuck with. Even for people or children who are known by a nickname, their real names, the names their parents chose are always there popping up to bite them; passports, driving licenses, when the bank manager calls, when you say your vows. There's no escaping that name on your birth certificate, well at least not till your old enough to change it.......and that makes it a pretty big responsibility as a parent!

When I told my sister and my mum I was expecting we were in Ireland for the weekend and we discussed names at every meal, throwing suggestions out there, eagerly reading name badges on waiting staff, picking up books in gift shops and reading out loud names of authors and characters. Thinking about names for our baby personalised the little bump growing inside me and made it seem very real.

There are many reasons for choosing a name; family tradition, religious significance, believed meanings, to honor someone special or simply because you like it. And once I started to consider a name for our unborn child I realised there were just as many reasons not to choose a name. Names I liked the sound of reminded me of people from the past or the present that I didn't like, could I live with being constantly reminded of that person?? Other names I liked just weren't possible with the surname, Fred Oliver Elward is a nice name, but you wouldn't want your child to have FOE as his initials would you? And it's not just the acronym you have to consider it's how the first name 'fits' with the surname, and in all possible diminutives. Nothing wrong with Diana Rye but Di Rye isn't quite so cool, William Hill is perfectly average but Bill Hill becomes comical, an opportunity to be teased at school. And there's another thing to consider when choosing a name, how high it factors on the tease scale? You might really love the name Dick but little kids will always associate it with willys! I really like the old fashioned name Fanny, but I couldn't send a daughter of mine to school with a name that is used to refer to the vagina, talk about sending your daughter to the slaughter!

And then there's the famous person, popular character consideration, if your surname is Bond, can you call your kid James?? If you do, is it humorous, a talking point and kind of cool? Or is it an epic fail? Obviously it's impossible to predict what names may be used by a popstar, actor or politician in the future, I'm sure somewhere in the world that there are more than a few middle aged or elderly Britney Spears, definitely a few Colin Firths and more than a couple of Justin Beibers. Sharing your name with a popstar or actor probably isn't too bad, but what for the Fred and Rosemary Wests of the world? They were probably quite happy with their chosen names until about 1987!  No matter how much thought and planning went into the choosing of their childrens names no parent could have predicted that one day their baby boys and girls would be sharing a name with a prolific serial killer!

And what if we do chose a well known name, does the name act as some kind of personality shaper? Are all Damians children from hell? Are all Dennis' menaces?  Are all Mary's virginal and all Biancas destined to wear silver puffa jackets and have a houseful of kids by different fathers? Sounds ridiculous, I mean, what's in a name? But as parents is it a risk we'd take?

Like lots of couples having children Tristan and I aren't married so we also had to make the surname decision too, for us it was easy and something we both agreed on, Elward, Tristans surname. But I guess we could have hyphenated, Richards-Elward, or I could have suggested that we stick to my surname until we were married and then go through the process of changing it later.   However, like I said the surname was easy, Elward. So one name down, how many more to go!?

I'm the proud bearer of two middle names, Lucinda and Georgina, when I was younger I actually felt sorry for people with no middle names!  Tristan has one middle name and we both agreed we wanted more than just a first name and surname but I'm pretty certain it was me who pushed for two middle names, I liked having two myself and therefore assumed my unborn child would like it too!  So it was decided, four names, of which the surname was confirmed, three to go!

We'd decided not to find out in advance if we were having a boy or a girl so we had to consider both options for names. My middle name, Georgina, is from my mothers side of the family (at least my mum thought she was naming me in the family tradition. When my mum finally applied for a passport she discovered that her middle name was actually Georgine, only one letter out but I was determined that if we had a baby girl she would have the right name, Georgine!) So that was one name down for a girl. 

Tristan lost his father several years ago and we wanted to use his fathers name if we had a boy, so that was Gwyn, one name down for a boy. Two more required for each gender.  Obviously having chosen to go with Tristans surname our baby would have an instant connection with his family, I wanted the same for my side of the family.  I chose Thomas after my maternal grandfather for a boy and Jane after my mother, (also my sisters middle name) for a girl. Easy peasy, so just the first name to go, arguably the most important!

When we started to discuss names I was pleasantly suprised how many we agreed on!  We both wanted something traditional and timeless. Something with character that would suit the child we imagined we would be having. Something solid and strong and something that could be shortened if our baby grew up to really hate our choice. And so it came to be that we chose Edward and Tallulah.

Tallulah; meaning leaping water. Name of the famous American actress; outspoken, outrageous and uninhibited.  Shortened to Tally or Lula. It fit all of our criteria and it fitted with the surname and middle names, Tallulah Jane Georgine Elward. I love the name but it'll have to wait.

Edward; meaning wealthy guard and also my fathers name. (Not that you'd know it, he goes by John his middle name. Bit of a risk naming our son after his Grumps when his Grumps hated it so much he changed it at the age of five!!) Shortened to Ed, Eddie, Ted, Teddie. Edward Gwyn Thomas Elward; no nasty acronym with the initials, no case for childhood teasing (well none we've worked out yet!.

And so in September our little boy was born, he was Edward from day one and we registered his name two days later, we were fortunate enough that the registrar was present in the hospital when Eddie was born.  As I'd had a c-section I was kept in hospital for two awful days and nights and we registered his birth just before we left to go home. I'd cared for Edward for two whole days and nights and the responsibility hadn't really hit me, however as we sat opposite the registrar a huge wave of responsibility swelled over me! After filling in the forms and signing on the dotted lines we walked out with a birth certificate and a child officially called Edward Gwyn Thomas Elward.

I never doubted our choice and I still love his name, though I do kind of miss calling him Wotsit!

A few of my favourite things...

I'm definitely no poet but last night I thought I'd write a post about my favourite things about Edward and this morning in the bath that I shared with him a few lines came to me...so I put them together to share...............

A few of my favourite things....

Some of my favouritest Edward type things 

Include the screwed up silly faces he makes when I sing.

The sweet secret smiles smiled only for me, 

When I go in to give him his last late night feed.

The folds and the creases in his perfect chubby thighs, 

The trust and the love looking back from his eyes

The crinkles and dimples in his peachy derriere,

The little bald patch at the back of his hair.

The quivering, quavering curled out bottom lip,

That I'm able to stop with a hug and a kiss.

So soft and so smooth the skin on his tummy,

The fact that one day I'll hear him say 'Mummy'.

The tiny little fingers on each of his hands,

Tightly curled round my fingers as he tries hard to stand.

The one pointy ear on the left of his head,

The one he likes stroked when I put him to bed.

The raise of his eyebrows, the questioning look,

When I sit down to read him my favourite book.

The soft chubby cheeks either side of his face,

And the fact that my arms is his favourite place.

Obviously I'm having a sentimental day.... I'm off for cuddles.....x

Things I never thought I'd do......

If someone had ever told me I'd suck snot from someones nose, be glad to be pooped on in the bath, praise burps, answer the door with my breasts out or squirt milk from my nipple into my baby's eyes I'd have been left pretty speechless, but in the 16 short weeks since Edward came into my life I've done all the above, and probably more weird and wonderful things that have overnight become the norm.

I've been lucky enough to be blessed with a baby that loves breasts, (just like most men I guess!), After we had been taken into the recovery room and still feeling pretty shaky from the operation the midwife asked me if I wanted to try to feed Edward; half propped on a pillow in a nasty hospital gown the midwife pulled out my breast and lay Edward on my right arm.  I looked down at him and he opened his mouth and practically pulled himself onto the nipple, he clamped down and sucked away.  Personally I think breast feeding is special enough for a post all of its own but for the purpose of this blog it's just important that you know that Eddie and I managed it and that I recognize how lucky we are as I know so many people struggle with it.

And so, armed with a baby happily breast feeding I headed home from hospital and after two days, down to Cornwall, it was while we were there that we finally saw a midwife (ten days after we left the hospital but that's another story again!), Eddie was suffering with a slightly infected eye, the midwife suggested that I use breast milk to clear the infection....perfect, it was available on tap and was quicker and easier than boiling water and waiting for it to cool, with a newborn baby I'd take any time saving device offered!

Shortly after the midwife visit Tristan and I went out for lunch at The Lewinnick Lodge, we had a lovely meal and then I fed Edward while Tristan enjoyed his pint.  Despite the fact we supposedly live in a liberal society people do still stare when you get your baps out, even if its not after too many vodkas outside the kebab shop and instead is simply to feed your baby, more about that in another blog! So there I was feeding away, feeling quite comfortable, happily unaware of anyone watching while I just enjoyed the connection with Edward....he drank his fill and when he pulled his head away I took my nipple and squeezed milk into his eye. Yep, I squeezed milk into his eye sat at the lunch table while people no doubt wondered what sort of torture I was inflicting on my baby. It was one of the many weird behaviours that had become such a normal part of every day that it wasnt until Tristan pointed out how other people might see it that I even considered the strangeness of it from an outsiders perspective! And there began the long list of odd behaviour associated with parenthood!

Before Eddie arrived I wasn't sure how I would feel about breastfeeding in public but I was determined to at least try, as it is I find it much easier than I ever thought and have breastfed in some strange and random situations; watching a lady boy show at a thai temple for example, walking round Tescos with Eddie in my arms and while waiting for my prescription in Boots to name a few! At the beginning it did feel like I was a walking milk machine, something I know lots of people have also commented on, Eddie seemed to need feeding every five minutes and I became adapt at feeding him on one side while carrying out other every day activites with the other hand; loading the washing machine, one handed washing up, making and eating breakfast cereal (there have been days I've eaten nothing else!). I had my breast in and out of its nursing bra so often it was sometimes easier to just leave it out, (remember what I said about the time saving suggestions!). And so when the postman knocked on the door to deliver a parcel and I was in between feeds I answered the door, took my parcel, borrowed the postmans pen, signed for the parcel, thanked him and shut the door, all without realising I had both my breasts completely exposed! I'd like to have thought it was his lucky day but I was hardly an attractive site, covered in breast milk, unwashed hair, no make up and most probably in my pyjamas!

The unmade up version of me who answered the door and flashed the postman.

 

 

Move on a few weeks and Edward got his first cold, the little sniffles broke my heart, not much to be done for babies with colds, no Lockets or Lemsips, so I did what I could, I bought drops to put on a wet cloth on his radiator; a menthol smell meant to help him breathe, I raised one end of the mattress in his cot; he slipped, I dropped saline up his nose; he blinked, and I used the glamorous nasal aspirator to try and suck the snot and bogies from his teeny tiny nostrils!  It's a great idea but with a cold myself and nearly 8 inches of tube to suck through I wasn't achieving much! And so, I did what I never thought I'd do; clamped my mouth around Edwards nostril and sucked up his snot. Not glam, but it certainly helped!

By comparison to the above the odd clap and cheer when Edward burps or farts seems not at all out of place, however being pleased to be pooped on in the bath is another thing altogether!  Edward  had spent several days in a rather uncomfortable state kicking at his tummy, grunting and groaning, quite clearly constipated. On recommendation of the doctor I offered Edward some grape juice, he wasn't all that impressed and having only been able to find purple grape juice everything very quickly became stained! I persevered and massaged his tummy with clockwise circular movements.  On the third morning of being awake since 4am I lay Eddie on his back while I ran a warm bath for us both; I rubbed his tummy and pedalled his legs, very tired I picked him up and we climbed in. I held him in front of me on his back and he smiled up at me, just a few minutes in the tell tale bubbles appeared on the surface, a massive fart, oh I laughed and smiled and gave Eddie as big a cheer as I could manage after just a couple of hours sleep. I looked down at Edwards little grin and saw the results of the grape juice floating to the surface of the bath, it had worked and he certainly wasn't constipated anymore!!

The Grape Juice treatment!

And so Eddie as young as he is has probably been responsible for making me do more things I never thought I'd do than anyone else I've ever met! And the most exciting thing is that it's early days yet, just thinking about what I might do that I never thought I would is amazing. Here's to Eddie and all the children all over the world who lead us to do things we've never done before, sucking bogies might not be swimming with dolphins but it's a new experience all the same!!!

40 weeks is 10 months!

I really wish that I had blogged about my pregnancy while it was happening, though to be honest I wasn't a pleasant pregnant person, I wasn't running around barefoot embracing mother nature and loving my bump, to be frank I was a miserable wench! 

14 weeks pregnant....my 'flat' tummy...

Before I got pregnant I always hoped that I would be a lovely chilled out mother to be embracing her bump and floating around in empire line chiffon dresses. No such luck! 

I am pretty sure that we created Baby Edward on New Years Day 2010 (a great start to the year), and I knew I was pregnant about a week or so later though it was a few more weeks till I took the pregnancy test that confirmed it. I was sick! I was so so sick! I took several days off work hardly able to get up out of the bed.

My sister and I took my mum to Ireland for her birthday present (when I broke the news of her impending grandmotherhood) and we walked for miles, up mountains and across moors, I puked regularly!

15 and a half weeks

I went to the doctor to chat about my pregnancy and have my check over; he added low blood pressure and a heart murmur to my vomiting and shortly after that the fainting started; I fainted on the Chiltern Railway train to London and got picked up by a businessman, I fainted on a rush hour tube and it was so crowded no one needed to pick me up as I couldn't fall down, I fainted going down the stairs and Marylebone station, so you see it didn't start well! 

17 weeks pregnant

Shortly after I found out I was pregnant I moved in with my boyfriend, two nights before we moved he cut the end of his finger off with a mandolin which apparently meant that he was unable to lift anything, leaving the most of it to pukey me! Moving meant that my journey to work in London was now a round trip of about 3 hours, great when you feel sick and faint!

20 weeks pregnant

25 weeks

26 weeks

Some photos of the first half of my pregnancy are above, I didn't put on that much weight which was something to be thankful for, but I think that was mostly due to the amount of vomiting I was doing, I wouldn't recommend it as a planned weight loss program though! Sometimes I cursed my tiny bump, had it been more obvious people might have been more willing to give up their seats on public transport, as it was I think I was in that 'is she fat or is she pregnant bracket for the majority of the 9 months', no one wanted to offend me by offering me a seat!?! 

As my bump started to grow people often said to me, 'oh it's so awful when people reach out to touch your stomach isn't it?', er no, I can honestly say that in the whole 40 weeks I was pregnant no one ever touched my bump uninvited, however everyone did have an opinion on the sex of the baby based on the shape and size of my bump.  We had decided not to find out in advance, we were both of the opinion that it really didn't matter either way and not knowing would give me some incentive to push the baby out so we could find out - well that was my theory!

The second half...

29 weeks...still smiling

 

32 weeks

After our second scan at 20 weeks the second half of the pregnancy seemed to stretch forward ahead of us, there were no other scans to look forward to, no other landmarks to break up the long 20 week wait we had ahead of us!

33 weeks

We'd moved again (when I was 6 months pregnant) and were living in a one bedroom cottage so there was no nursery to decorate and we had all the essentials we required, bought, gifted or borrowed and stored in the loft ready for the baby's arrival. It really was just a waiting game and I for one could not wait for September 27th!

35 weeks

Along with my vomiting I was now suffering with unbelievable heart burn and acid indigestion (the doctor gave me some white glue like substance to drink which only made me feel even sicker so I stuck to Rennie, I could have bought shares in the company!), my feet were swelling and the heat of the summer months especially while I was traveling was crippling me; while everyone else enjoyed the sunshine I wanted it to rain! See I told you I was miserable, Tristan and I had only been together for a short time when we fell pregnant and suddenly he had me miserable and moaning for twice the time we'd even known each other! It's a credit to his patience that we're still together!

36 weeks

 

38 weeks

 

, I struggled just to open a can of pop and the wrist supports they insisted that I buy were no good at all, the velcro just got caught in my hair at night. It continued after Eddie arrived and was worse at night, so bad in fact I was scared lifting him out of his cot for night feeds as my wrists were so weak.........15 weeks after Edward arrived I suddenly realise, it's gone!

I had planned to work right up to my due date but as it was my swollen feet and general lethargy meant I gave up work 10 days before I was due, those ten days dragged but I was glad not to be undertaking that 3 hour round trip to work anymore, I lived on the sofa and wore Tristans shirts as nothing much else fitted anymore, it was cool in the front room and lying on the sofa was about all I wanted to manage.

39 weeks

40 weeks!

Now Edward has arrived every single second of it was worth it, every one of the 10 months! 40 weeks is ten months no matter what anyone tries to tell you and I was pretty miserable for nearly every second of every day of every long long week! I only hope that my next pregnancy is an improvement, though in all honesty even if I knew it was going to be the same all over again I wouldn't hesitate for a second!

The reason why.....

So, there was a time in my life when I worked full time and yet still had time to spend on my hair and make up,red lipstick and victory rolls, when I commuted nearly 3 and a half hours each day but still found time to put on an outfit each day, stockings, heels and matching underwear, a time when my free time was spent searching for vintage dresses at car boot sales, markets and on ebay. Then I got pregnant and all that changed! Vintage dresses and suspenders don't work too well with a big bump! Hours spent searching the internet for vintage bargains became hours spent researching pregnancy and the many side effects I was suffering from, child birth, child raising and sleep solutions; I searched shops for baby clothes and gadgets not heels and lipsticks!  I became obsessed with comfort and stretch in my clothing rather than corsetry and tailoring.

And then Edward arrived!

I thought about writing a diary for him to read when he grew up and for us to look back on as parents, see where we went right and what we might have changed, I never got it started and now suddenly Eddie is 16 weeks old. I was looking on the net for a rocking horse.....I really crave a vintage one for Edwards cowboy themed bedroom.....when I thought that maybe a blog might be a better way to diary Edwards first months, or years....that way friends and family, even those who aren't nearby can also keep up with Eddies adventures.

So here is Edwards blog...obviously we do most things together at the moment, he's a big boy but he still cant leave the house without me, so the blog will also touch on things that I might do as well! One of the things I'm really looking forward to is uploading images of Eddies outfits! While I still haven't returned to my corsets and vintage heels (I just about manage to pull on clean clothes each day) I do take great pride and have great fun dressing Edward each day.