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!
Thursday 31 May 2007
Tuesday 29 May 2007
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!
Saturday 19 May 2007
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.
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.
Friday 18 May 2007
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...
Thursday 17 May 2007
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...
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...
Wednesday 9 May 2007
Tuesday 8 May 2007
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.
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.
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