More new tricks

And what a gorgeous little boy we do have! I always known all parents are proud of their children, but words cannot describe the loveliness of that feeling as I gaze in wonderment at our offspring. He is truely awesome...

It's a good job he's so adorable during the day, because, as previously documented, nights have not been easy. Then when tooth number one appeared on Friday 14 December, I felt surprisingly relieved - maybe teething was the issue that had unsettled our sleep pattern, and it wasn't just that I was a useless parent. Then tooth number two appeared on Monday 17 December and we had a few better nights. He did give us the Christmas present we asked for - a whole night's sleep on 24 December :o) Alas, last night I committed a cardinal sin (in some peoples' eyes) and brought him into our bed because I couldn't face getting up and down any more :o( The thought of returning it work in less than two weeks time, with nights as broken as they are right now is fairly daunting. But I'm trying not to dwell on this issue (partly in the hope that it will go away and partly in the hope that positive thinking will work).

He is crawling much more efficiently now and on 23 December he went from crawling to sitting up all on his own - so clever! He is beginning to want to spoon feed himself - this is clearly going to be a very messy affair. He is having little 'tantrums' - head falls forward and bottom lip comes right out - when he is diverted from doing something he wants to do. I actually find this quite cute and I will have to be very careful not to openly laugh when he does it! And, yes, he did a poo in his potty this morning - not that we will shout about that too loudly as we're aware we're only at the start of what could be a two year journey.

He has spent a lot of today pulling himself up on the sofa, toy box and television unit and standing (very wobbly) trying to reach things. The energy he must be expending surely means he will sleep well tonight... I am watching him now, entertain himself beautifully at his toy box. He turns objects in his hands so precisely, presses buttons so deftly and makes connections between objects and ideas all the time - he is truely awesome!

A wee? That's nothing!

Mummy and Daddy seemed to be pretty pleased with me when I did a wee in my potty last night, so this morning I thought I'd really show them how clever I am by doing a poo in it. Now that did get them excited!

Wee-hee!

Today we bought a potty and tonight he did a wee in it before getting into the bath! Pretty good for nine and a half months, methinks, so we've started the long road to getting rid of nappies :o)

So much else has happened recently, but I'm not going to do a Trevor and sit here until midnight typing...

Christmas letter 2007

To save the planet - and, to be frank, money - we've not sent Christmas cards this year except to those we can't reach by email. To avoid annoying everyone by attaching a large file to an email, I put a copy of our 2007 Christmas letter online and just emailed a link. Seeing as it's there, feel free to take a look.

....or maybe not

Perhaps I spoke to soon. Rachael tells methis morning that last night was "The Worst Night Ever". And I slept through the whole thing, knocked out be some pretty hefty antibiotics I'm on for an infection in my elbow.

Don't know what else to say, so here's one of my favourite recent pictures.


Look at this face. Who'd have thought nights could be so hard?

Night-time nightmares. A temporary respite coming?

For several weeks, night-times have been utterly frustrating, emotionally draining, and, to be frank, bloody hard work. Ainsworth went from sleeping brilliantly at a few weeks, through sleeping okay, to sleeping as little as possible. We've had no real pattern: some nights it's been only a couple of wakes - but lasting an hour or more of full-on screaming; others it's been lots of little wakes - as many as 14 in a night. We've tried various things: going through straight away to calm him or leaving him for a while each time; picking him up or not; giving him extra milk; crying into our pillows and wishing it would end soon. All sorts. Leaving him crying was a last resort that we tried but every instinct in us told us it was simply wrong. Cruel, even. And so we've reverted to going through to his room and calming him in his cot, picking him up only as a last resort. But it's really getting Rachael down.

And then this morning we discovered a tooth. Has that been what all the fuss has been about? And if so can we hope for some sleep at last.

New Tricks

It is absolutely fantastic to watch Ainsworth develop both physically and emotionally. It is not surprising that he is acquiring new skills almost daily at the moment - some are better tricks than others, however!

We delighted in his new 'finger pointing' trick last weekend. He will do it at the meal table to amuse, he will point at people in photos and he will point to show which direction he wants to go in. All very clever!

And as we meet and greet various people he is delighting them with a lovely smile and nose wrinkle - very cute!

He continues to amuse himself beautifully with the toys in his basket for up to half an hour.

Unfortunately two days ago his latest trick was to spit food out. He has learnt that his tongue can push food out of his mouth quite effectively - not something to be encouraged! And then this morning, as I was forcing down another syringe full of antibiotic, I realised why he'd learnt this latest trick... he may not be able to get the medicine out, but he's showing me he does have some control over what goes into his mouth!

Hey ho, let's hope he learns to feed himself soon!

The grand plan revealed

Have I mentioned our "grand plan" here? I don't believe I have. Well, the details are finally confirmed so the time has come to reveal all.

Rachael goes back to work in January. She's going to be working two days a week, and Ainsworth will be being looked after by... (wait for it...)

Me!

Yes, we're really going to give it a go. My application to go part-time has been approved, so from January we're splitting the week between us and I'll get to spend two whole days in the company of the most amazing person. It'll do us the world of good.

Daily routines

It's been far too long since I last posted here and things have moved on a pace since I last did. Trevor is, thankfully, taking on a little more responsibility which is making life less frought. And Ainsworth is about to become mobile as his shuffling across the floor is definitely getting quicker! Anyway, to things of 'routine'...

I know, from teaching children, that they are anything but predictable, and I've always liked this slight element of uncertainty in the classroom. It keeps me on my toes and stops life being boring. However, being a fairly organised sort of person, I like routines and a little bit of predictability. These are both things I seem to have had to give up almost completely with the arrival of Ainsworth. As fast as I try to establish some sort of routine to the day, so he goes and changes it!

I really liked to transition to bottle feeding once I was set at feeding at 7am, 11am, 2pm and 6pm with three forty five minute naps at 10am, 1pm and 4pm. That didn't last long as solid foods were introduced. Then for a while we settled into waking at 5am, breakfast at 7am, snack at 10.30am, lunch at 12, afternoon bottle at 2.30pm, tea at 4.30pm, bath at 6pm and bottle before bed at 6.30pm with two naps a day of varying lengths.

Now, at 8 months, the feeding routine is still quite similar, but times can vary by up to an hour without adverse effects! It is, however the sleep patterns that seem completely random at the moment and this lack of predictabilty makes life quite challenging at times - especially for someone who likes to arrive on time for things! The bedtime routine is fantastic and very predictable, but the morning can begin any time between 5am and 8.30am... and the later he gets up, the better his mood during the day, so perhaps we can be forgiven for trying to make him go back to sleep when he wakes at 5am! I just wish we could work out what to do to make the mornings more predictable, but I guess that would make life quite boring.

Where are they?

I thought I'd check in to see what Mummy and Daddy have been writing about me, but they've not put anything here for ages. I'm going to have to have words with them, just as soon as I can work out how to make words. (I'm practicing quite a bit these days, but so far I've only been able to make up my own words, so they can't understand what I'm saying to them.) It would take ages to fill you in on all the things we've been up to, so instead I'll show you some pictures from the last few months and tell you about them.


My first piece of solid food: a piece a raw carrot. Yes, raw. I mean, how was I supposed to get any sustenance out of that? I did give it a good suck, though, and it had an okay flavour.



This was a while ago, when I went through a phase of liking to stay in this fabby bathseat. (Now that I've grown up a bit I'm too interested in trying to crawl around the bath and put my face under the water to stay in this for long.)


Sometimes I just can't make up my mind which toy to choose from my basket.


Usually Daddy helps me with my piano playing, but this time it was mummy.


My first trip to the funfair! I wasn't allowed to go on any of the rides, but I enjoyed looking at all the lights and watching the big children (and grown-ups!) go on them.


When Mummy's got a bit tired of driving I like to help her. Change down here, Mum!


Now I'm a big boy I get to go on the swings on my own!


We went to the London Aquarium and it was amazing. I was completely fascinated by all the brilliant fish I saw. If you get the chance, you must go along!


These are out friends from Canada who came to stay with us for a few days. We're on a boat tour on the river Thames.


Andreas Luca Coultart! I got to meet my new young cousin. Ricardo is very, very proud of his new "baby brother sister" and watched me very carefully when I was playing with Andreas.

A new cousin!

I’m told this blog is really supposed to be about me, but I had to let you know about this: I’m really excited because I’ve just heard that my cousin Ricardo’s Mum and Dad gave him a new baby boy this morning! He’s called Andreas, he was born in a pool at home (sounds fun!) and we’re going to go and visit him tomorrow.

At last I’m not the baby of the family any more.

Third Person

Why do I find myself referring to myself in the third person when talking to Ainsworth? It's something I'd heard others do and hoped I'd never do myself, but instinctively I refer to myself as "Daddy" instead of as "I".

Why would I do such a thing?

Sharing the workload

Okay, here's where blogging gets difficult. We said we wanted this to be about our feelings as we learn to be a family, but so far it's all been a bit happy, easy-going, lovey-dovey stuff. Let's get serious.

The last week or so has been really hard work. And not because of ill health, although that has been a factor. (AJ is much improved, though still coughing and a little chesty, and I am recovering from a pretty nasty flu thing.)

The simple fact is, I've been a bit rubbish. Folk who know us will probably think of me as a good, modern, hands-on dad who plays his part and takes his share of the work. Well, they're sadly mistaken. When it comes down to it, Rachael does everything. Okay, so I'll change nappies when I get the chance, and I'll take time to play with Ainsworth and try to get to know him. But who actually makes all the decisions around here? And who does the vast majority of the work? Don't look at me, folks.

How often have I planned what Ainsworth will eat, and when? Even what he should wear? What's going to be our strategy for those difficult night-time sessions? Hmm. I guess I have taken a back seat on all of this sort of stuff. A back seat? Hey, I've barely got on board.

So, why do I do this? Why do I let Rachael get on and organise and do everything, and sit back and just expect it all to happen, allowing resentment to build and bad feelings to brew? I wish I wish I wish I knew. It's not only been since Ainsworth has been around; this has been a recurring pattern of our married life, but when it comes to children it seems that I'm leaving things to her on the basis that I expect her to know what she's doing. As she's quite correctly pointed out, she's making this all up as she's going along, too.

Rachael said this morning that she'd decided she was coping perfectly well on her own at the moment. If I felt like contributing, she'd take whatever I felt I could offer.

How on earth have I let things reach this state?

Poorly boy

The weekend was brilliant. Ainsworth was a superstar, guests enjoyed themselves, a great time was had by all. But there's not time to report the details now, so I'll save that until later (unless Rachael beats me too it).

But after the excitement of the weekend, Ainsworth is a bit poorly today. Rachael and I have both had colds in the last week or so, and he's resisted until now, but today he's been coughing and sniffly and not been able to settle for most of the day. Virtually no solid food has passed his lips, and come bedtime he would hardly even take his milk. One thing that has passed his lips is his first ever dose of Calpol. (At thirty weeks and a day, I don't think we've done too badly!) He eventually went to sleep and has been pretty settled for a couple of hours, but I'm not holding out much hope for a very peaceful night.

We're just very glad it didn't develop yesterday when we were busy to entertaining a hundred guests!

Day three

Did I say a new post every day at lunchtime? I guess I didn't have time today, so here I am in the middle of the night instead.

Just a quick update: preparations continue apace for the weekend. Rachael's Mum arrived yesterday evening, and her best friend, one of the godparents (sorry, support parents), tonight. Food is being prepared, much shopping done, maps being emailed hither and thither, ceremony wording settled, cake re-iced (and yes, it really is the top tier of our wedding cake, which has been in the freezer for thirteen years apart from a brief outing when it appeared as part of our tenth anniversary cake!), photo slideshow prepared for looped projection throughout the afternoon, logistics thought through over and over again.

More family arrive tomorrow. We'll find jobs for them all.

What's in a name?

Ainsworth James Thomas Coultart

That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it? Where did that little lot come from? Let’s start at the easy end. Coultart: well, that’s my name, isn’t it. When we got married we briefly considered taking Rachael’s surname instead, but I’m very glad we didn’t because then he’d be Ainsworth James Thomas Thomas, which would be a bit daft. Which brings us neatly on to Thomas.

Before we were married we’d chosen baby names: Thomas for a boy and… well, I won’t mention the girl’s name in case it comes in handy one day. Thomas because it was Rachael’s surname. Thomas because I’d always understood that my dad liked the name. But for various reasons which I’ll not go into now (but feel free to ask us afterwards) we didn’t end up using it as AJ’s first name.

James is easy. We could pretend it’s chosen after our first godson. We could pretend that we were following a small tradition of using James somewhere in the name: Ainsworth’s uncle is Benjamin James, his cousin in Tennyson James. But there’s a simpler reason. We wanted something starting with J so that we could call him AJ for short, and James was simply our favourite J name.

And so we get to Ainsworth. When we knew that a baby was on its way we started the name discussions in earnest. I found the lists of the most popular hundred names for boys and girls and we each went through annotating these lists with ticks and crosses. Rachael’s favourites were almost all in the top ten – which to me was in itself a reason to rule them out. And then one day, completely out of the blue, she surprised me with “How about Ainsworth?” Rachael, who had wanted to give our child a name that he would share with half his classmates, suggested Ainsworth. Now it will help if you know that Ainsworth is Rachael’s Mum’s maiden name.

I was quite taken aback initially, but very soon it started to grow on me to the point where I could think of no other name. I hoped we would be having a boy. In the meantime Rachael was becoming less sure and was finding all the reasons not to. Until the moment he was born, we hadn’t made the decision. But then 30 weeks ago we looked at his face, at just a few minutes old, and it seemed to fit.

There is one other reason. Most of you will know that one of Rachael’s brothers died a few years ago, and I’m sure a few of you may have wondered if we would call a son Daniel in his memory. I know I did. And I also know that Daniel always wanted us to have children. So we have chosen to remember Daniel: his name was Daniel John Ainsworth Thomas.

Ainsworth James Thomas Coultart: we hope he grows to love it.

(Note: this is a first draft of what I might be planning to say at Ainsworth's dedication on Sunday. Feel free to suggest amendments!)

First of many?

I've not written here nearly as much as I'd hoped I would. Almost every day Ainsworth does something that that makes me think "that'll make a good blog post" but I never get round to writing it and now there's too much to talk about. I will try to do a bit of a catch-up by posting something each lunchtime from the office instead of reading the paper.

So, today, the first of many new posts - what shall I talk about?

We're in the middle of preparations for Ainsworth's dedication service at church on Sunday which we're hoping to be an interesting do. The dedication itself (which our minister tells us is technically an "infant presentation" but everyone refers to it as a dedication and always has) is a short part of the normal Sunday service, much like a christening but without any water. (It's a Baptist church so we leave baptism until someone's in a position to make his or her own mind up about it.) We'll make promises about how we intend to raise Ainsworth, the friends we've chosen to be Support Parents* will make a promise to support us however they see fit, the church will stand in support, and the minister will smile a lot. He loves babies. Especially ours.

We have fifty or so extra guests coming to the service, so we hope those that aren't used to church manage to get through it okay before we all depart to Rachael's school for a couple of speeches and a celebratory buffet (with bar, of course!). Rachael's speaking about our choice of Support Parents*, I'm talking about our choices for Ainsworth's names (I might try that out here tomorrow), then we've asked our two Support Parents* to say a little something about any hopes and aspirations they would have for Ainsworth. All in all, were hoping for a great day.

*"Support Parents?" I hear you ask. "Why not Godparents?" Simple: one of them is not a believer. We're adjusting the words of the promises subtly. We've made up for that by having the other one as a vicar.

My first painting

There is so much I want to tell you all, but so little time. Eating has been a great adventure; I've had carrot, sweet potato, peas (yuck!) apple, pear, courgette - and lots of banana - and I have lots of photos but I'll have to post them another time. For now, I just had to tell you about my first painting. Mummy did the sponging, and I helped to spread the paint around until I was happy with the finished result. I thought it was okay, but it was a bit too flat, so I scrunched it up a bit to give it some texture.


What do you think? I think it looks a bit like some of my uncle's paintings.

PS: Daddy's just reminded me that lots more photos are available on my photo site even if I've not had time to put them here.

Orange Stuff

It's official - my mum loves the colour orange! She wears orange clothes, she bought me an orange Bugaboo and now she's giving me orange stuff to eat!

Apparently it's called 'carrot' and I had it three days in a row. It was quite tasty, but I think the banana I had yesterday and today was even better - it was certainly stickier :o) And tonight daddy is roasting me sweet potato for tomorrow's snack (isn't that orange as well?!).

Well, I have to say I'm enjoying the new food regime. Mummy even lets me drink some of her water now - and I've been eyeing that up for months.

A delight

I'm very glad Rachael has posted an update. I keep meaning to (I probably think about it most days) but get distracted by other things, and I keep trying to persuade Ainsworth to tell you all what he's actually been getting up to, but he always seems to busy chatting, laughing, entertaining friends to find the time. I'll make sure he updates you soon.

In the meantime, Rachael is quite right. He is an absolute delight. And even if he's been frustrating at bed time (which he certainly can be) the smile he gives us in the morning makes it all melt away.

26 Weeks or 6 Months...

I can hardly believe it! In some ways the day Ainsworth arrived seems like a lifetime away, in other ways it has gone by so quickly. The fact that I have been on antibiotics for nearly 11 of those weeks is a little scary, but hopefully the expensive consultant in London will sort me out on Tuesday.

Anyway, to things of Ainsworth... In the last week he has had his last breast feed and is now completely bottle fed. He knows exactly what to do with the bottle and is beginning to reach out and hold it or push it away. He has had quite a few more pooey nappies, but that seems to have settled this weekend. (My going on 'nappy-strike' and saying Trevor had to do them all this weekend seems to have reduced the amount of poo - I'm sure the two of them are in cahoots!)

He has also had is last jabs for a while and coped admirably with 3 injections at once!

His sitting has definitely improved - he is sitting more firmly with a good straight back, and is even straining to be more upright when in his bouncy chair.

We have talked a lot about food and getting him onto solids, but I can't help thinking that we could leave it a couple of weeks because he arrived at 38 weeks gestation. He's also still sleeping well and doesn't want more when he finishes a feed - other indicators of needing more than milk. However, he has developed a definite chomping action with his mouth this week and is reaching out for our food when we are eating (His looks made me feel very guilty eating an ice cream last weekend!). Mind you, he is reaching out for all sorts of things, especially the tags (wash labels) on his toys!

He has been swimming today for the third time and it was such a contrast to the first time. He was smiling most of the time and absolutely loved his float thing. His legs didn't stay still the whole time he was in it! He definitely needs a little while to adjust to a situation before becoming happy with it. Today I stood on the side and we watched the children swimming for about 5 minutes before we went anywhere near the water. We've noticed this in other situations too - he can be quite teary and clingy when faced with something new or different, but given a few minutes securely held by me or Trevor and he becomes smiley and chatty - a real delight to behold.

He is very chatty a lot of the time now - babbling away to himself in the mirror and to his caterpillar in the car, especially.
All in all, he is an absolute delight to behold. I do find it difficult to know what to do with him sometimes and was amazed to find myself going to the pet shop for no other reason than to look at the fish! I, who never had enough time in the day to get through everything on my list, suddenly find myself aimlessly wandering the streets (and pet shops) for no other reason than to entertain my boy!

And, in case we haven't already reported it, he is now absolutely fine in the car seat :o)

So, a good six months? A tiring, excillerating, amazing, frustrating, astounding, fantazmagorical, emotional rollercoaster of a six months. Would I have it any other way? Well, it isn't any other way, so no point asking the queation really!

From breast milk to formula...

Appetising, isn't it. Poor kid. Five months of breast milk and now this.

For Rachael

She wants a badge? She gets a badge.

Giving up

If there is one thing I know about myself, it is that I don't give up easily - whether it's writing a dissertation six weeks after giving birth, getting through rocky patches in our marriage, questioning my faith or breast feeding, I can stubbornly persist for quite some time! However, infected mastitis first reared its ugly head on 21 June and two months later, two hospital stays and two further flare-ups, I am still on antibiotics and struggling to shift the infection that sits in my right breast. After the third flare-up I decided to stop feeding on the right and risk an abscess forming if the infected milk leaked into the breast tissue - so far that hasn't happened, thankfully!

I've had two clear ultrasounds and am now just hand expressing once a day on the right while feeding twice a day on the left, but it will not be long before Ainsworth feeds entirely on formula. The pain, discomfort and emotional lows of feeding through mastitis have not stopped me wanting to continue feeding and, rather strangely, I feel somewhat cheated into giving up. I know it is probably the best thing to do for my health, and I really don't want Ainsworth to continue having diluted antibiotics, but it is proving emotionally quite difficult to do. Hormones are a very strange thing...

Ainsworth has been an absolute treasure through all of the hospital stays and has taken to bottle feeding like a dream. We really could not have asked for a more compliant baby! It is nice to see Trevor feeding him - and has given me a break from the night feeds - but I still feel a little 'embarassed' when feeding from a bottle in public! I want to wear a badge saying 'breast fed for five months'.

And so now we need to start seriously considering the other weaning process - from milk to solids... This parenting lark is full of quandries and questions, so there's never a dull moment. But actually, I'd quite like a dull moment right now.

Been too long

Where the heck have we been? You may well ask.

Well, the fact is we've been somewhat pre-occupied, and blogging has not exactly been a priority. So here's a very brief summary of where we're at...

• Ainsworth is five and a half months old, sleeping well, laughing a lot, and coping with formula milk for reasons which will soon become clear.
  
  
• Rachael has been in a bad way. Her Mastitis just kept on coming back, and seemed resistant to antibiotics. She ended up having two stays in hospital to have them intravenously - first time just for one night, but the second time it was four nights' stay. She's through the worst now, but remains on antibiotics, probably until she finally finishes breastfeeding. Since last Tuesday, when she went into hospital, she's been feeding only on one side, and now she's dropped that down to two feeds a day. next week, just the one. And then slowly reducing that to zero.
  

• I've coped okay with a very different schedule, as I've generally had Ainsworth at home, taking him into hospital for feeds as and when. Nights are interesting, aren't they?

That'll do for now. It's been a difficult few weeks.

Famous!

I've just found out that I'm on another blog! Fame at last!

Photos and News

Well, after re-arranging all the existing photos earlier in the week, I've finally managed to upload some new ones. Why not take a peek?

Unfortunately news here is not especially good at the moment: we thought we'd got rid of it, but Rachael's Mastitis is back. I guess it never really went away. A trip to the out-of-hours GP service at the hospital has given us a second course of antibiotics (different ones this time) and she's feeling really sore and rotten. And has said that once the infection clears this time, she'll be stopping breastfeeding. Can't say I blame her.

She's made it over four months though, which I understand is way more than the average. And anyway, it's about time I was able to do night feeds.

Serious stuff

At last! the opportunity to talk about emotions and stuff on here. Rachael and I have needed - and thankfully had - a couple of talks over the last couple of days about how we're feeling about changes to our lives since AJ has been with us. And so I sat here to write about them.

And then I spent a couple of hours... sorting out photos. Oh, well. Perhaps I'll tell you about the serious stuff soon. More importantly, perhaps I'll do something about it.

In the meantime, I've moved AJ's photo albums to a new hosting site, as I was running out of space on my own domain and wanted something easier to keep up to date as well. I looked at a couple of different sites before opting for Flickr. I hope I've chosen well because I've spent flippin' ages uploading the photos and sorting them out. (And that's only the photos that were already online - I really need to put some new ones on. There's not been an upload since the end of May!)

Feel free to take a look and let me know how it looks to you. I still haven't worked out how to do some things (like choose what order the photos are displayed on some pages) but it seems pretty versatile and you can even view them as slideshows - which you sure couldn't do when I was trying to write my own code!

Will they ever update this?

I've been waiting expectantly for Mum or Dad to update this because they've not put anything here for a couple of weeks now. Honestly. What are they thinking? They claim to be busy, but I can't imagine what's taking them so much time.

Well, I guess it's up to me to keep this thing going.

I last posted from Grandma's computer in Scotland. We'd gone on a long journey - on the train, as I still complain when they put me in the car seat (though a little less than I used to) - and were in Scotland for Uncle Ben's wedding. I met lots of people for the first time and had lots of fun. Mum and Dad had found me a great outfit. It was a bit big but I didn't mind because I've not dressed so smartly before and I wanted to look my best for the photos. And I'm going to another wedding in a couple of weeks when it might fit a bit better. Mum and Dad tried to dress nicely, too, but they just couldn't compete.

There were only twelve people at the wedding, but they all seemed pretty fascinated by me and I had to resign myself to the fact that I'd be prodded and poked much of the day. I slept through the ceremony (everyone said that was clever) but afterwards we all went back to the hotel (I did the trip in my carseat in a minibus both ways without compaining!) for a great meal. I decided it must be time to wake up when everyone else sat down to eat. Uncle Ben and Aunty Victoria had put a lovely teddy in my place at the table so I spent some time chatting to him while the grown ups chatted to each other. We all stayed up very late that evening chatting. I laid in my pram and tried to listen to the conversations, but they were all talking at the same time so I couldn't really follow it all.

After the wedding I stayed up in Scotland at Grandma's for a few more days and spent some time visiting more people. Uncle George, who I've met a few times, wanted to play with me lots and helped me dance to some very old jazz music which was great fun - if a little unnerving at times. (He lifted me right up high to the ceiling!) Then ho let me show him my keyboard skills. Daddy often plays the piano with me, but the keys are quite hard for me to press. Uncle George's keyboard is easy! And when we went for a long walk on the beach the next day he kept me nice and cosy out of the wind.

We've been back home for a couple of weeks now, and much more has happened, but it's very late and Daddy says I should be in bed. I must tell you that I've been managing to push up on my hands pretty well, and the other day when I was having a good look around I wobbled a bit and found myself on my back. Quite how that happens I'll never know, but it's happened a few times now.

First Jabs

Tomorrow we take Ainsworth for his first jabs.
We're not looking forward to it.

My first...

Hi friends. What a time I've had! Lots of firsts for me since I last came online: first train journey; first wedding; first time meeting my uncle Ben and auntie Victoria (it was their wedding!); first time out of England. No time to tell you all about it here (I'm using grandma's computer) but I'm going home tomorrow so I might be able to tell you more once I'm home. And there will be pictures - mum and dad took lots and lots and lots of pictures!

Strange goings-on in the night

Mum and Dad do seem pleased with me when I stay asleep for along time. To see just how happy I can make them, I've stayed asleep for nine hours a few times now, and they seem to think I'm very clever. I can't see what's so clever about it - it's not like I'm doing anything.

But there is something strange going on: every night Mummy carefully places my in my cot with my feet at the bottom for some reason (I think she must have read it in a book somewhere). It's very cosy. The funny thing is, when I wake up in the morning I find myself right at the other end with my head pushing on the wooden bars. Does she move me in the night?

Missed Milestones

My MA research was clearly just an excuse for not writing anything else as I haven't exactly recorded much since finishing it!

I continue to marvel at this little bundle of joy who is so dependent upon us for everything. I spend much of my time wondering what to do next with him when he is awake, and gazing adoringly at him when he is asleep. I hope I'm providing enough stimulus for him. We haven't had much on this week and he seems so much more content around other children than when he is just with me - hey ho!

Anyway, he is asleep at the moment and I thought I really should record some of those 'oooh' and 'aahhh' moments that have slipped by unrecorded and will be easily forgotten. Such milestones as the first time he smiled when I put him under the baby gym - almost in recognition of the fun to come! Then there was the first bath, first sniffy nose, first happy nappy change, first big smile, first time he really seemed to look at and enjoy a book, first holiday, first time I managed to distract him from crying by chatting to him and making silly noises, first massage class, and first noise that really sounded like speech rather than cry. Some of these things have been recorded in film or photo, of course, but you can't capture the emotion of such moments. My heart lifts with each new day as he now gives the biggest smile and chuckle of recognition when he wakes up in the morning.

And this week we have seen a new hand 'gesture' - he is quite definitely gripping both fists and raising them straight out in front of his face, almost like one of his baby massage moves! Oh how I delight in his every move!

How I love my car seat :o(

Mum and Dad keep on taking me out in the car and I try to enjoy it, really I do. They do take me to some lovely places after all. But there's something about being strapped into that seat that I really can't get on with.

They do try to help, bless 'em. They sing to me, massage my tummy, let me suck their fingers, all sorts. Daddy even tried blowing on me once, which quietened me down for a while, but only because I was so bemused by it. But once I've decided I'm not happy in there there really isn't anything they can do to calm me down except stop and give me a proper cuddle.

I don't suppose anyone reads this, but if there is anyone out there who has any ideas about how I could get used to my car seat I'd love to hear about them.

PS: Daddy's just put some more photos on my website. They do like to point that camera at me.

PPS: Have you met my friend Milo? He's one cool guy!

The labour story - in brief!

It is probably better that I write this with a few weeks distance from the actual event because, while I will not forget what a horrific journey it was at times, the joy of what resulted from that journey has numbed the nightmare somewhat! I say nightmare, but according to the midwives' notes it was a normal, straightforward delivery...

The adventure began at 12.30am on Sunday 4 March, after a day of spring cleaning with my mum and a lovely roast dinner (which I cooked) shared with Trevor, mum and my youngest brother. There was a definite feeling of contentment as I sat down with my family to relax at the end of a productive day. I had been in bed a couple of hours, while Trevor was still up 'playing' on the computer, when I suddenly felt very wet! There was no doubt about the fact that my waters had broken and I realised with some trepidation that life was about to get very interesting!

After popping to hospital for a quick checkover, we returned home to see if contractions started naturally, eat hot weetabix and sleep - Verona's advice. But there was no sleeping through the contractions and by 5.30am we were heading back to hospital, largely because I couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a car having a contraction. We left mum and brother, George, pacing the floor...

The hospital room - complete with birthing pool - was dimly lit and pleasantly clean. We unpacked a few things and made ourselves 'comfortable', but there was no playing Scrabble as I'd imagined! After several hours of contractions and being quite violently sick, the midwife did the first examination at 9am... 2cms!! She did a good job of making me feel less despondent by saying that I was fully effaced and the head was well down - level with the ishal spines. It was thanks to Verona's 'Preparation for Birth' weekend that I knew what that meant!

At the next examination, four hours later, I was 5cms dilated and could get into the pool - bliss! The pool was the best pain relief ever! I given up on gas and air early on because it didn't seem to do anything and I was feeling pretty nauseous anyway. Verona arrived at about 3.30pm (having got someone else to do her afternoon teaching!) and it was then that I felt I could really relax and focus on the job in hand. Unfortunately I relaxed too much and by 5pm I was still only 7-8cms dilated, so they suggested I get out the pool to see if that strengthened the contractions. IT DID.

By 7pm I was hooked up to the monitors and Verona was telling me when to breathe the gas and air in, which was working a treat now. I had begun to tire a little, and they suggested a Syntocinon drip to augment contractions. This then felt like I was having one long contraction and I stopped looking at the time after 8pm!

Being on the bed, albeit on all fours, was not good and eventually I asked to get off it. With some jiggling of wires, I was on the floor and felt like I had more to push against, which felt a lot better. At some point in the proceedings, I was aware that Verona was sending Trevor for a break and I was pleased. When he returned he was noticeably more proactive and supportive.

I longed for the urge to push and for it to be all over. I was feeling pathetic, useless and exhausted and at several points asked Trevor to make it all stop and for the midwife to 'cut it out, suck it out, just get it out'. I remember thinking 'I don't care how many women have gone through this, it can't be natural!' Verona's presence and focused words of guidance were very reassuring, and her foot massages were a pleasant distraction.

Eventually there was the urge to push and I knew the hard work was about to start - but I thought I had no energy left and I was literally on my knees! The best position seemed to be pulling against Trevor and biting on his belt. I'm glad to say that at no point did I feel anything but absolute love for him and it was undoubtedly the sheer excitement in his voice that kept me going at the end.

It was obviously taking a little longer than the midwife would have liked as there were comments about the doctors going grey haired outside, so could I get a move on! When the little body did eventually pop out, I remember looking at 'it' and being amazed at how big it was. Verona was excitedly asking Trevor if he could see what it was and he announced that it was a BOY! I don't know what happened next really - I couldn't hear or speak for what seemed like ages, then I was struggling back onto the bed and Trevor was asking me if I was okay...

There was yet more discomfort to come with the delivery of the placenta, and I do remember Trevor having a 'guided tour' of it with the midwife, but thankfully stitches were not required! Babe was lying on me for quite a while, but made no move towards the breast, as I'd imagined he might. Verona took a photo of us, despite my feelings of despair at what I must look like!

It took some time to shower, dress babe, pack up our things and move up to the ward. The midwife brought me two slices of 'toast' (white cardboard squares spread with some cheap margerine) which tasted divine. Trevor commented on what a serious little face he had - the name Ainsworth seemed to suit, and knowing how keen he was on the name of course I agreed to it.

We were put on the anti-natal ward as the post-natal was full - it had been a busy weekend! Strangely enough I wasn't too worried about Trevor going home - perhaps because I knew the house wasn't empty?

I lay down, with Ainsworth James on my chest and was very glad the ward staff weren't going to make me put him down in a cot.

My second blog POST!

A shameful amount of time has lapsed since I last posted as Ainsworth is now approaching his 11 week milestone - but I do have a minor excuse... until 2 weeks ago I was finishing off my MA research project! It had been my plan to finish it before he arrived, but coming 16 days early he surprised us all (we didn't even have the car seat!) especially as we thought first babies were always late! Anyway, the dissertation was completed by the May 4th deadline and there was much celebrating in the Coultart household. Since then I have been catching up on all the other little jobs that were put on hold for three weeks and now it is time to catch up with this blogging lark...

Changes

Another week, another lack of posting here. Time flies, you see: it flies.

Our perfect boy continues to be perfect in every way. He is, as I am keen to tell everyone, the best baby there has ever been. Sleeping's going fine now : we've had a few more nights of five or even six hours, and even when he does wake he - usually - settles fairly quietly down again. (What's the betting that he'll be a rascal tonight now that I've typed that?) He's now moved into his cot; the moses basket seems to have mysteriously shrunk somewhat and does seem happier with the extra space around him. Our room is a wee bit cramped with the cot, but it's working well so far. Having read Three in a Bed I started out really keen on the idea of bedsharing. Rachael, who wasn't so keen before Ainsworth was born, surprised herself by really liking having him in the bed with us, but I soon became keen to move him into his own space, and the moses basket (thanks Matt and Debbie!) was fantastic, until it shrank. We've gone for a clever hybrid of bedsharing and separate beds: I assembled the cot with only three sides, made sure the mattress was the same height as ours, and we have it flush with our bed, so he's in his own little annexe. So far, so good.

There is much more to say: I've not mentioned eating, travelling, growing, playing, laughing, crying and much more about Ainsworth, and have yet to even think about blogging about my emotions - which is after all the supposed reason behind this blog. But it is late and I must go and join the family upstairs. Until next time...

Spoke too soon

Tuesday night:

• woke 1:50
• wouldn't settle until 3:00
• woke again 4:00

Dancing on the ceiling

We are celebrating this week.

Sunday night: 9:30 until 5:00
Monday night: 10:30 until 5:00

If they don't count as "sleeping through the night", I don't know what does.

Tuesday night? Watch this space.

Where does the time go?

I want to post here about all the things we've been up to since Ainsworth has been born. Rachael wants to record how we're feeling and coping and what it's all doing to our emotions.

In practice, we never seem to have time to get here. Perhaps that says something about both things.

My first ever blog entry

This time six weeks ago I had completely lost track of time and was wondering whether or not to ask if Sunday had turned into Monday yet. I was coming towards the end of a labour which had started at 12.30 that morning and which felt as though it was never going to end. When it finally did, the result was our gorgeous baby boy whom we named Ainsworth James Thomas Coultart and it is he who has inspired me to write my first ever blog entry.

The intention was to write a daily entry tracking the highs and lows of being new parents. The reality has been odd thoughts scribbled on a block of scrap paper that I have kept by my side to combat the frustration of what people have called 'baby brain'. We have been given two beautiful books in which to record events and milestones - quite when we will get round to filling them in, I do not know. However, the last six weeks have seen many highs and lows and many milestones which I hope to record briefly in retrospect before returning to my original intention of writing as things happen.

Today's entry would be called 'Our First Music Session' as we had the most delightful half hour this morning with Trevor playing the piano and me singing Nursery Rhymes to Ainsworth as he bounced and cooed along merrily in his chair. It was really rewarding and heartwarming, especially as it came after quite a prolonged grizzly spell.

Easter Video

For Easter we put together a little video and sent it to both Grandmas as a DVD. And now as a special treat everyone can watch a very-small-screen version here! (It's about eight minutes long.)



And there are now more photos on Ainsworth's web site, too.

Welcome Ainsworth James Thomas Coultart

According to the opening post, this was supposed to be a blog about us preparing to become parents. Well, events have somewhat overtaken us, as Ainsworth decided to arrive early on 4th March. I've just tried to post a picture, but Blogger's not behaving for me right now. You can always view a few snaps here.

The last couple of weeks have therefore been busy getting used to having a baby around the house. The plan (such as it is) is to use this to muse over our thoughts, feelings and emotions about becoming parents, and we're both hoping to post thoughts here from time to time. I guess there will always be room for bits and bobs about how Ainsworth is progressing, and we will soon post the story of his birth.

It's taken me this long just to post the news, so I don't hold your breath for the next update...

Your starter for ten

After 12 years of marriage, we've finally decided we've got to know each other well enough to have a go at this parenting lark. Number one is on its way.

I've set this blog up so we can record what we go through as we prepare to become parents, and then what actually being parents is like once we get there.

Still setting up the template at the moment; I hope to make the first proper entry soon.

Watch this space.