Tell me again about the night I was born - Lily's Birth Story

I've been meaning to do this for a long time. I hope I've got the details right, it has been a long time and much has happened since then. It is less for me (although I do enjoy reading over Archer's story from time to time) and more for Lily, for the record of her and for the parents of other prems and mothers with incompetent cervix I enjoy connecting with.

Today is Lily's due date anniversary and it seems as good a day as any. Probably the best.

We had been waiting on Lily for a very long time. 9 weeks, in fact, when I finally went into labour.

It would be a lie to say I had no idea this was going to happen. I had been researching a lot, and knew rescue cerclages have a poor rate of full term births as opposed to prophylactic, which have over 80% success rate. We had asked a doctor friend, who said he knew the answer but wasn't prepared to say anything and exactly one week prior, my doctor had expressed concern that Lily appeared to be fully engaged.

Mum had observed just two nights prior that Oscar, incredibly out of character, was favouring me over Bob. I joked I hoped not, as dogs supposedly sense labour. 

At about 2 in the morning at 32 weeks, I woke up with back pain. My mind didn't even think "labour" my mind thought "pee, panadol, heat pack".

When I went to pee, I noticed pink spotting. I didn't think anything of it, this is common with cerclages and it was really pale and faint. So, ever the keeper of a tidy home, I went off in search of my heat pack. The longer I looked, the more I noticed that the back pain wasn't persistent, but very clearly coming and going with gradual intensification and feeling of it wrapping further around my belly each time. The pain was about as intense as the pain I felt when my disk bulges were acute.

Starting to feel a bit anxious, I went to the toilet again, just to check. And this time the spotting was bright red.

I roused Bob, who groggily told me to ring the emergency number I had been given. By the time I was off the phone with them, with instructions to come in, Bob was dressed, had clothes out for me and our bag was at the door.

We were both excited.

You have to understand, from our perspective, from having seen a 26 weeker in the NICU, from thinking we were going to have a 24 weeker, this was a relief. She might as well have been full term. We were going to get to meet our little girl! Finally!

We arrived at the pregnancy assessment unit and were placed immediately in a room. I wasn't feeling any better or any worse, but when I went to the toilet my discharge had increased.

I was given drugs to try and delay labour (don't ask me, I didn't even ask, I was so disappointed they were even trying) as well as my third round of betamethasone. Betamethasone makes me feel crappy, so I was less than thrilled about this and was disappointed they had planned for me to finish the day with no baby, a migraine and hot flushes.

When Dr Cattanach arrived he confirmed that I had been in labour, but the stitch was still holding and the drugs to suppress labour had worked. I was going to spend the day on the ward and if nothing happened at the 24 hour mark, I'd get to go home. I felt better, because I had thought they were going to keep  me in the ward until I actually did go into labour.

And the day passed inconsequentially. I was excited to go home the next morning and went to sleep happy.

At about midnight (I don't remember the exact time, it may have been earlier), I got up to go to the toilet with back pain, and this time there was blood on the paper and in the toilet. I buzzed the midwife and in the time it took her to come, which was ages, I had started to have contractions, about 5 - 6 minutes apart.

She put on a fetal heart monitor and contraction monitor and we had some words about whether I was in fact contracting as the machine was not picking them up. I assured her I was and I assured her that for about an hour now they had been regular. She reluctantly agreed to ring Dr Cattanach. He wanted me in a birth suite ASAP. This was not possible as all the rooms with neonatal RESUS were either occupied or being cleaned as it had been a busy night for prems.

It was after 1:30am before an orderly arrived to deliver me to the birth suite.

Dr Cattanach had not arrived so another ob/gyn checked to see my dilation. This hurt a lot and left me shaking. I was starting to dilate, about 4 centimetres, so it was becoming urgent to get my stitch out.

Dr Cattanach arrived minutes later and set about organising to the cut the stitch. He was saying that I needed an epidural, but I was managing the contractions just fine and I couldn't imagine why. My labour was progressing but it was early in the morning and both anesthesiologists in attendance were attending c-sections. So Dr Cattanach decided to cut my stitch without pain relief.

It was hands down the worst pain I have ever felt. I was trying to suck gas and hold still but I was shaking all over involuntarily. My midwife had my legs and Bob had my arms, but it just wasn't happening. I was sobbing with pain and just wanted Dr Cattanach to STOP. So he did, uncertain as to whether or not my stitch was still in place.

Dr Cattanach decided to actually fetch an anesthesiologist himself and came back shortly, assuring me that I would have an epidural in no time.

Nausea had gripped me while he was gone and I was vomiting everywhere. Poor Bob was trying his best to catch it but as each round of vomiting chose to coincide exactly with a contraction, it was hard for me to aim. I was regretting the gas, and having had an epidural for the stitch placement, was looking forward to being relieved of the horrendous double whammy.

The anesthesiologist arrived just as I was at my worst. Vomiting, shaking, contracting and crying. And this is what he said, "I hope this is an emergency."

Apparently Dr Cattanach had insisted he attend me instead of seeing an almost complete c-section through to the end, and he was annoyed. I managed to hiss, "Yes, it is." While Dr Cattanach just rolled his eyes.

He explained the risks, how it worked and the length of time it would take to take effect, which was approximately half an hour. I signed, happy that at least one of my troubles would soon be relieved.

As he was placing the line, I felt like I wet myself and, desperately embarrassed, apologised. Everyone assured me it was fine. Then Bob started to wobble and suddenly he said he needed to sit because he was going to faint. I maintain it was the sight of the epidural going in and he maintains it was just he was tired and hungry.

Dr Cattanach took his place, and I promptly threw up all over him and his shoes. I'm sorry to his wife, who almost certainly had to wash that. I also felt like I had wet myself again. It was horrible, especially as I had used the bathroom shortly prior to to the anesthesiologist arriving. I was very embarrassed and was terribly upset as I felt like I was probably going to poop next. The only God send was I didn't really notice the epidural going in through my burning embarrassment.

After the epidural was in, I was rolled over and lifted to change my sheets and gown, which was when Dr Cattanach announced I had not, in fact, wet myself, but broken my waters.

 By the time the epidural had taken effect, it was 3:30am. Dr Cattanach said the plan was to check my stitch and dilation and then send me back to my room for a sleep, where he'd check on me again at 9.

As soon as he looked though, he backed up and said, "She's crowned!" and almost instantly the room was alive with people. Four more midwives and a pediatrician arrived as though summoned by this pronouncement. I'm sure my midwife had a hand in it, but it felt instant.

The midwives disappeared to the RESUS room and the pediatrician came to speak with Bob and me.

Until the day I die I will never ever forget what he said. I can't remember his name, but he was Scottish and older, so it sounded so earnest.

"32 weeks. That's good. 99% survive."

Bob and I beamed.

"I don't tell you this to give you hope. I tell you this because 1% die. She won't be crying when she's born and she'll need RESUS immediately. You won't get to hold her today, and probably not tomorrow either. She'll need CPAP and will be in ICN for at least a week, and won't get to come before 36 weeks and probably not until her due date."

I looked at Bob and his mouth was open, skin grey, eyes worried. I knew my face was identical and I wondered if it was too late to put her back in and stop labour. I didn't get to ask, because the paediatrician dissipated almost the moment that Dr Cattanach declared it was time to push.

3 pushes later, at 3:45am on Thursday 6 May 2010, Lily Grace Maidens arrived.

Screaming her tiny, perfect little lungs out. She weighed 1970 grams and measured 42.5 centimetres. And once she had been wrapped in a warming blanket and her APGAR scores completed, she was handed to me.

As tears rolled down my face,  I said, "Hi. I'm your Mummy."

And 26 days later, at 35+6 weeks gestation, we got to take her home.

And so Lily Grace was born. And our lives have since been blessed more than we ever deserved.

 

Best Friends Forever

It's happened. It's finally here. The day I've been dreaming of since the positive pregnancy test with Lily.

My kids are BFFs.

After the hiccup with tandem breastfeeding, I was doubtful that having kids so close together was a good thing. I worried a lot about jealousy being a problem and wondered how my baby would cope with being the "big" kid.

And at first, it really did seem like a bit of a disaster. Lily didn't seem jealous, just indifferent. And prone to whacking his soft spot. And then for a little while, she definitely was jealous, her favourite way of expressing this was to smash her brother on the head with a book while he was feeding. This was roughly about the time he was interested in toys, and there were a few incidents where she would snatch a toy off him and then try to out cry him, as if to explain to me with her limited communication methods that she was the most hard done by in this situation.

Shortly after this, it became evident that it was time Archer moved into his big boy bed in their shared room. I thought this was going to be an unqualified disaster. Lily loves her room, how was she going to go sharing it?

But she was so excited the first night, she could barely sleep. This was over 2 months ago now.

And ever since then, their relationship has come along in leaps and bounds. Especially now that Archer can sit up and is becoming quickly mobile. This week has been the best week so far.

We disposed of our germ factory highchair and got some nice, clean, plastic Fisher Price booster seats for a steal. Cheaper than just one of just about any other booster seat on the market. So now they sit next to each other at the table. Lily and Archer both think this is the greatest thing EVER.

I don't know what the secret joke is, but most meals, at least once, they look at each other and just start giggling. Sometimes, just to give us a glimpse into their secret world, Lily will say "Archie's funny!"

One day, Lily was already seated at dinner when Archer came to the table and Lily exclaimed, "Archie, dinnies is yummy!" and enthusiastically spooned some soup in her mouth to show him it was true. For the record, it was homemade cream of chicken soup and it was bit lack luster, actually. They both ate huge bowls full, though.

At lunch the next day, Archer was taking his time (finger food is tricky sometimes) and Lily went off to play. She just stood there for a bit and then came back to me and in her "I really need to you to listen to this because I mean it" whisper, she said, "Mummy." "Yes Lily?" "Archie's finished."

Gorgeous creature wanted her brother to come and play.

She does this all the time now. She loves him to join in and if we've "forgotten" to include him, she will remind us.

"Mummy, Archie's painting."
"Daddy, Archie shower."
"Mummy! Daddy! Archie swimming!" (a stinking adorable example from Saturday).

And he is just as into her. In the morning they have cuddles and at night they kiss each other goodnight. 90% of the time completely voluntarily.

It melts my heart. I hope that they stay this way forever, my beautiful, lovable babies.

Wow! Amazing!

In the last few weeks Lily has had a massive language explosion.

All of a sudden she is able to express to us how she is feeling, what she wants and why she wants it and to describe the world around her, sometimes with remarkable insight.

For me, the best thing about it has been that she is actually articulating her feelings to me. We were having terrible trouble with her just screaming when she needed something. We've talked a lot to her about frustration, anger, disappointment and feeling mad. This week we have really been making inroads, with her asking for what she wants calmly instead of automatically freaking out. "Help Mummy!" "Meme (excuse me) Mummy" "Sorry" "Open" and "More!" have been added to her repertoire alongside "Please" and "No." Some of these words she has had for a while, but she is now applying them in order to prevent frustration and anger by getting help achieving her goals.

"No" has always been something we have, under most circumstances, allowed Lily to say. She uses it to explain to us she doesn't like something, needs personal space, is not ready for or does not want something or to claim ownership, usually of food from the dog.

"More" has been a double edged sword though. Instead of throwing herself on the kitchen floor and sobbing, she now asks for "More!" Which is great when she is waving her cup around or is stuffing the last piece of sweet potato in her mouth, but not so great when she's sitting at the table eating her lunch, but actually wants me to put on another episode of Hi 5 or when she stands watching me feed Archer and actually wants me to read her another book. We're getting better and are slowly but surely finding she adds more of what to request, yesterday asking for "More water" a few times.

She has also been expressing her actual feelings, especially sad, tired and funny (which is a catch all for happy and enjoyment). Funny almost exclusively applies to Archer, but has also been applied to Oscar and me.

Another thing she has been trying to do is act as a mouth piece for Archer. If he is crying she tries to explain whether he's feeling tired, sad or mad. If she feels he is suffering some sort of injustice, she protects his interests, such as toys or food, by claiming ownership for him.

We have found this last week or two that she talks all the time. You know when people say that, and they just mean a lot. She literally talks all the time. Unending, sensible descriptions of the world around her, sometimes in sentences of up to five words, singing, counting, reading stories, chattering to me or Archer. If everything is described and counted, and all the stories are read, she will stroke her brother saying over and over in the sweetest, most loving voice ever, "Hello Archie".

Armed with her new words, she frequently uses them to talk about Archer. Delighted yelling "Coming Archie!" when he wakes and sighing sadly when she can't find him, "Archie sleeping?"

The very best new thing in her arsenal of words is that she has been expressing wonder at everything, "Wow! Amazing!"

And right now, quite literally as I type, she just threw her arms around me and said, for the first time ever, "I love Mummy."

I've been waiting for this since I got the positive pregnancy test! So much joy right now!

Parties

I have new hobby. It's planning out the next ten years of parties for my kids.

Lily's 2nd birthday was a surprising success. As I was expecting disaster, anything better would have been successful, I suppose, but really, I think it was wonderful! I had a good time, anyway.

Not only that, after I missed out on having a really whizz bang first birthday for her, like I had wanted, I was thrilled to go a little OTT.

And since then I have been enormously excited about Archer's party. It's going to be Very Hungry Caterpillar themed, and we have everything, from candles to balloons to outfits. I've got the menu worked out and the activities decided on and short of buying the food and his gifts, which we will do in the enormous and competitive up coming toy sales at Target and Big W, everything is done or organised. My main splash out has been sourcing lollipops that exactly match the one from the book as party favours. So really, any more thinking or planning on this party is superfluous.

So, instead, armed with Pinterest, I have been planning their next parties. And the one after that. And the one after that.

I've mentioned previously that next year we are going smaller for Lily. The reason for this is two fold, Lily got a bigger than planned 2nd birthday, and I think Archer deserves the same, and I also think there is much to be appreciated in a small, but highly detailed, afternoon party as opposed to a larger scale party, that is really for Mummy and Daddy as well.

It didn't take me long to come up with a theme that would suit four little girls. Pretty in Pink Princess High Tea. Pink and white food, drinks and decorations will be the order of the day, with an extra special splash of colour from some large tissue paper pom poms. I'm very, very excited.

Archer's second and third birthday will follow the same pattern as Lily's, with a delightfully over the top 2nd birthday and a small scale third birthday.

And you better believe themes, food, activities and decorations are all thought of and sourced.

Archie will be having an "Under the Sea" theme next year, complete with fish pinata, fish and chips for lunch and bucket and spade favours.

And his third birthday? A dinosaur dig, complete with bones buried in the sand pit, dino shaped pasta (thank you Coles!) and lava for lunch and magnificent t-rex shaped balloons. Perfect for four little boys (and one big sister), I think!

For both their fourth birthdays we will be skipping the party and purchasing new bedroom furniture and linen and giving them their big kid room. And for their fifth birthdays, their last at preschool, we are going to do a whole class affair at an indoor play center.

And for their sixth birthdays? This one will be the all out one, the last one we spend huge dollars on before the milestone birthdays start happening. Lily is going to have a fairy theme, with activities including wand and wing making. I also hope to rope some unsuspecting teenager into painting faces.

And Archer's will be pirates, including a large scale treasure hunt where the booty contains the loot bags.

Maybe there will even be jumping castles. Maybe.

After that? Well, presuming they don't want a say, I've mused on Lego themes, soccer themes and Star Wars themes. The soccer one is my pet. I imagine the first hour will be devoted to a soccer clinic and mini game, run by my husband and then a sausage sizzle, with ball shaped cake and water bottle favours stuffed with whistles and other soccer related items and sweets.

I'm also desperately hoping at 10+ Lily will be interested in a 1950s themed roller skating party. I envision 20 little girls in pastel poodle skirts having the time of their lives. The reality will probably be 20 little girls in skinny jeans taking turns at sobbing their little hearts out every time they go arse over.

Hey, I can dream.

Am I Mum Enough?

Have you seen the image floating around the web of the cover of the the Times magazine with the smoking mum breastfeeding her front row forward three year old?

Well, if not, here it is.

I haven't read the article, which is not about extended breastfeeding but rather attachment parenting, of which there are many aspects, not just magazine selling extended breastfeeding, but boy has it gotten mummy bloggers everywhere hot under the collar.

I'm a bit "meh" about the image. It's designed to ignite controversy and there is a much more beautiful image inside where the child looks his age and is nursing lovingly. I think the cover image, that most people will see, does nothing for positive breastfeeding press.

Mothers are very quick to get very defensive about their formula choice. Many, many blogs and online articles that are desperately trying to advocate for breastfeeding, especially extended breastfeeding, get swamped by irate mothers invoking hysterical nonsense like, "I shouldn't have to feel guilty." In my opinion, just talking about extended breastfeeding isn't trying to make you feel guilty, it's just trying to raise awareness and encourage people to view it as normal. Community views on breastfeeding are a huge obstacle right now, and let's face it, not enough women are following the WHO guidelines.

And that's where my commentary on that stops. Anything further would push me into nutty lactivist territory and I'm not about that. I support mothers who honestly can't breastfeed or mothers that have very good reasons for not breastfeeding, and I hope they support my choice to breastfeed my children until they are ready to wean.

What I really want to speak about is being "mum enough". The article, from what I've gathered, is about the extremeness of attachment parenting and I guess what a hardcore mum you have to be to do it.

I'm going to go right out there and say, I'm not Mum enough.

• You couldn't pay me to wear my kids.
• Co-sleeping sucks, and I only do it because getting up eight times during the night sucks worse. 
• I've tried cloth nappies, and while I was mopping up the 57th puddle of wee, scrubbing out the 95th poo stain and washing them for the 112th time trying to get them to be absorbent, I went "Fuck this shit, hand over the sposies."
• I make my own baby food because it's fun. If I got bored of it, I would totally supplement with jars.
• I do not like being a stay at home mum. It doesn't suit me. I feel suffocated and bored. Bring on uni and work!
• Sometimes I let my kids cry. Sometimes I let both my kids cry at the same time.
• For the most part, I can't stand other mothers.
• I refuse to take shit from my toddler. If she's naughty, I treat her as such. 

But you know what, and lots of true attachment parents will say this too, it's pretty hardcore mummying to be able to admit my faults, so maybe I AM mum enough.

Lily is Two!

Lily is two and I've been going through a lot emotionally due to this. The weirdest for me was dwelling a fair bit on our NICU experience, this did not happen when she turned one, so I guess there's something subconscious with her being two that got me a bit. I feel like perhaps it's that her babyhood is really behind her.

The night before her birthday party, Bob and I sat down to make a party playlist to be played with a slideshow of pcictures from when she was born and I absolutely lost it when he played The Beatles Blackbird and Defying Gravity from Wicked. They just really resonated with me.

Our sweet little girl has come so far. From hanging on in the womb, quite literally, for dear life, to being a NICU superstar, to growing so beautifully into a little girl who amazes me every single day.

I am so proud of her, she can:

1. Count to five without help and count to ten with help
2. Count to five is Spanish (bloody Dora)
3.  Consistently name blue, yellow, purple and black. Inconsistently name red and green
4.  Identify happy from sad, big from little, hot from cold, up from down, open from closed and boy from girl
5.  Drink from a cup and eat with a spoon and a fork
6. Use plurals appropriately
7. Almost walk up stairs without help
8. Name a huge variety of animals and their noises
9. Name most of her obvious body parts, including, if you want a giggle "fanny", "bum" and "boobies"
10. Feed the animals at night (Dog dinnies and Cat dinnies)
11. Follow instructions with multiple steps
12. Swim to a "safe" place all on her own

She is compassionate, funny, sweet, persistent, intelligent, thoughtful, active and simply beautiful!

Experiences with a (almost) Two Year Old

So this is a slightly retroactive post in that these occur before Lily turned two.

The last time I talked about taking Lily somewhere special, it was to Taronga Park Zoo when she was about 18 months old. And, it was fun, but it was very hard to tell if she got anything out of it and it was very hard work for not much reward, at the end of the day.

So, it was with some apprehension, Bob and I embarked on our first big outing since then.

I have been insisting for some time that we take the kids to the Easter Show.  On Saturday 14 April, we finally did it. I was freaking out a bit, because Bob insisted we drive to Hornsby station and catch the train from there. I'm not going to lie, this part was difficult. Physically and mentally, but the actual show was tons of fun.

Lily was beyond over excited about the farm animals, cheerily naming them all, surprising us when she correctly identified a donkey and astounding us when she spotted the turkeys in the poultry shed and excitedly ran over saying "Turkey! Gobble gobble." I still have no idea where she learned this. Her Fisher Price Little People Farm has a turkey, but it doesn't make the sound and I've never shown her. Once I saw turkeys on Playschool, but Lily rarely sits and watches TV and this was at least a month prior, probably more. Kid is a sponge.

She liked the idea of her showbag (a Dora one with hat, jewellery box, umbrella, lunch box and water bottle) and enjoyed tasting the show favourite, a dagwood dog. Archer wasn't quite as fond of the whole experience, overwhelmed by the people, sights, sounds and smells, but he had an alright day and was very pleased with the Cookie Monster rattle from his Sesame street Beginnings showbag, which matches the Elmo one from Lily's first Ekka in 2010.

Bob and I agreed it was lots of fun and we've decided we'll making it annual event.

On Monday, 30 April, we took Lily to the Hi 5 concert at Hornsby RSL. I was very nervous, I had no idea what it was going to be like and when telling Lily what we were doing, she seemed more bewildered than anything.

I'm pleased to say, it wasn't a failure. Lily was extremely overwhelmed, but was able to muster a few "Wow, Hi 5!"s, and towards the end, she did begin to dance and clap along with the songs. However, when they said bye bye (before an encore), she enthusiastically waved bye bye and announced, "Bye, Hi 5."

And she was done.

The encore was two much for her and while I danced along with Archie who loved every minute of it, Bob took Lily to buy this obnoxious torch that has spinning LED lights and plays the full Hi 5 theme. It only served to cement my belief that whole thing was little more than a toddler rave, as if the bright neon lights and toddlers going spastic over the bubble machine like first year uni students at 2 for 1 drinks didn't already tell me that.

But, ever since then she has spoken of her experience positively, has definitely become more enthusiastic for Hi 5 and just today was telling me the names of the actors. Last week I asked her if she'd like to go to a Dora concert like the Hi 5 one we just saw and she was very excited and has been excited to see the ad for this travesty ever since.

And I caved, undid my self imposed Nick Jnr. ban and bought some tickets. I accidentally bought tickets where you also get to meet Dora, trying to avoid the 145th row back from the stage, and I think this will be a disaster, but we'll see.

The following Saturday, having planned poorly because one was in May and the other April, never mind the dates and days, we took Lily on her planned birthday trip to Taronga Park Zoo. First of all there were a lot of adults there to help us, Mum, Grandma, Aunty Jayne, Uncle Jared and Vicki having made the trek with us. Second of all, 6 months makes a lot more difference than I ever anticipated.

Lily was flat out excited. She told us more names and animal sounds than we thought she knew, astounding us by very clearly pronouncing giraffe, which I would have thought was quite difficult for a child just getting her head around language. Her favourite animals this time, pipping the elephants from last time at the post, were the Chimpanzees or "Mun-kees". She even thought to tell us about them on the trip home with no prompting. As the males were putting on quite the display, I'm not surprised they made an impression.

What did surprise me was, when let loose in the gift shop, allowed to chose something from Mummy and Daddy AND Grandma and Bucky, she settled on a llama. An ugly, stiff legged thing which to me doesn't seem appealing or huggable. We must have shown her every other thing in the store, but she barely even spared them a second glance, gripping this silly thing fiercely. So that's what she got. And now it resides in her bed with her six other bed friends. (Oh, I know you're wondering. There's a bed time Dora, who's been loved until she is Satan's creepiest friend, with matted electric shock hair and scratched out eyes, a Fisher Price my first dolly called Baby who was her little friend in the NICU, Lucky the puppy who was bought by Bucky when I was very first put in hospital, a bear intended as a sensory toy for infants that she recently discovered in Archer's toy box (it WAS hers) called Bear, Jessie from Toy Story and a tiger who used to "live" under my bed as a child and was under hers, but she insists he sleeps at the foot of her bed.)

So, taking Lily out has become a delight. She is interested, learns things and behaves well. I hope this continues because I'd love to make such outings a regular thing.