Bubbhub

2003-12-13T15:20:00.000+08:00

Breaking news: Bubbhub can now be found here.

Stuff

2003-12-11T23:19:00.000+08:00

This blogging business is complicated stuff. After messing about with my template (again) I seem to have lost my some of my archives.

My pregnancy has all but vanished. My deeply fascinating take on August, July, June...all gone.

What I need is a smart looking web address where I don't need to worry about settings and templates and drop-down boxes that confuse me.

Last night I was nearly asleep when my mobile phone rang. I was too bleary eyed to answer immediately and when I did it had rung out.

I noticed the missed call was from a girlfriend's number. Peering at the clock it read 10pm. I sent an SMS, wondering why she called so late.

S: You okay? James sleeping beside me so I can't call you back.

A few minutes later...

F: Who is James? Are you alright? Where are you?

S: Hey? At home...

F: Okay. C U 2morrow

Only today did I discover she had dialled the wrong girlfriend and had in fact been looking for another Sarah who had run off, distraught, from an office Christmas Party.

Who is James, indeed.

Shamefully, I watched the Trista/Ryan wedding extravaganza last night. O, the drunken drama of it all! I loved it.

What a bunch of fun lads Ryan's friends turned out to be.
Sorry mate, can't watch the strippers, let alone be in the same room as them. It may offend my wife.

Okaaaay.

Photos

2003-12-10T16:03:00.000+08:00

A study in concentration

Bring me my tea and toast!

Someone:
(i) Is enamoured by their own reflection
(ii) Has taken to waking up at midnight and 3am...again
(iii) Will only tolerate the bath water 'just so'

2003-12-09T11:25:00.001+08:00

14 weeks

I am starting to realise that all baby behavioural patterns are transitory (bravo to me for grasping the obvious).

For instance, James has recently started going down for the night around 7pm. Just when I was getting used to 9.30pm. He doesn't gripe every night like he used to. Some nights he is unsettled for an hour or so, other nights he is calm.

Further evidence; some nights he will sleep for 8 hours. Other nights he likes a quick snack overnight.

Sometimes he cries to be fed. Other times he just flails his arms about madly, waiting for me to get the hint. (Mum is just so s.l.o.w sometimes)

He is 14 weeks old today and developing quite a personality.

I made my first tentative childcare investigations. The common rule seems to be, "call us next year." I have my eye on one centre and I am determined to get a place. Next year I'll start lobbying.

2003-12-09T11:25:00.000+08:00

Blogger ate my post!

2003-12-08T11:55:00.000+08:00

While we were away James discovered his hands. On and off over the past few weeks I have noticed him snatching furtive peeks at them. Recently though he holds them out in front of himself staring as though he has just discovered he has control of these wonderful little instruments.

When he's hungry he will stuff his fists in his mouth, dribbling furiously as though they are lamb chops.

In other news, the tree is up. It's tiny but I love it. So tiny, in fact, that I have stuffed it in a vase on the lounge room floor. I love this time of year. I am craving warm, summery evenings and early morning walks (and breakfasts) at the beach.

Yesterday we went to lunch at a boutique pub around the corner. It was James's first outing with his paternal Grandmother and Great-Grandmother. They were all over him, cooing like pigeons. He was in cuddle heaven.

I spent the weekend still feeling the after-effects of sleep deprivation. Anyone would have thought I endured a long haul flight rather than a little over 4.5 hours. I attempted a nap but lapsed into one of those strange trace-like, torpid states instead. You know the kind of light sleep where you fall in and out of consciousness and fight the feeling?

I felt a little dizzy and a little light headed for two days.

Silly bathroom pic to prove it.

Ben left for work this morning. He's gone until the middle of next week. I could easily give in to a dark cloud of sadness but I'm determined not to take the easy road.

Instead; cooking, fragrant candles, reading, walks along the river, coffee in the city, girly videos, the newspaper & favourite cafe.

Distraction and indulgence is key. Got to love motherhood.

2003-12-07T06:58:00.000+08:00

Syd-a-knee

Back from a whistle stop tour of Sydney.

We went with my parents. James was a gem on the plane. He barely cried on the way over and was only slightly annoyed by the cramped conditions on the way back. I nursed him on take off and landing but he didn't seem to care either way.

The weather was utterly miserable and only the nominated Baby Bjorn wearer had the use of the Official Holiday Umbrella. Why we didn't all just buy one I have no idea.

Highlights:
I met the lovely Anna and she was incredibly kind.

We met a friend and dined in the elegant surroundings of the Harbour Kitchen and Bar where Ben caused alarm by changing James in the male toilets.

We spend 75% of our time queuing for taxis but thankfully jumped to the top of the line a few times thanks to kindly Sydneysiders. Baby + Rain = Faster taxi service.

I had my first Starbucks coffee. Not a terribly exciting claim to fame but worth mentioning given that I live in the most isolated capital city on earth.

My father wrestled my husband for the Baby Bjorn on more than one occasion.

I still hate flying but the distraction of a 3 month old helps.

Photographic evidence.

2003-12-03T21:49:00.000+08:00

Guess who went swimming

We're flying out in the morning to spend the next few days in Sydney.

Should be loads of fun. Not looking forward to the flight at all. I'm a nervous airline passenger who would consume a glass of wine or two to calm her nerves if the flight wasn't scheduled to leave so early. Perhaps a good book and digging my nails into my husband's arm will do the trick?

Be back soon!

2003-11-30T20:15:00.000+08:00

Back to regularly scheduled programming

James hasn't had his regular 'Unhappy Hour' in two nights. It's past 8pm and he has been sleeping peacefully for an hour or so.

I have been giving him a warm bath just before 6. Followed by a relaxing massage, something to eat and some quiet cuddling time.

It has been a welcome change. No fussing, no unsettled crying. Just a happy, calm, sleepy baby.

I am so used to spending my early evenings trying to calm him, wind him, rock him to sleep ... anything to avoid the crying jags that I don't know what to do with myself! I read when the change comes it might come overnight. Hope it lasts.

In other baby-centric news he can now locate me across a room. Wherever I am his little eyes will scan faces until they settle on me. He can stare intently for the longest time, smiling if he's in the right mood.

He has a favourite toy, a worm that dangles above him on his play-gym. I caught him smiling at it the other day and if I wobble the worm around he may even give a giggle of sorts.

I have a very cute photo of a gibbon(?) baby stuck to the wall beside his change table. When he turns and stares at it I'll ask, "Where's Oscar?" I can only imagine he is thinking, "Mum you're a bit thick, I'm looking at him."

Oscar has been known to get the widest smiles, but this can probably be attributed to my animated baby-talk when he focuses on the photo.

Ben claims James and Oscar share the same hairdresser.

2003-11-30T19:53:00.000+08:00

Alright ... think I've fixed it. Please yell out if things look wobbly.

2003-11-30T19:33:00.000+08:00

Techno Brain Strain
Eeek! Why are my archives suddenly relegated to the bottom of the page?

Trust me to mess with my archive settings, in the process mucking up my template and destroying my nice, neat little webpage. Disaster!

Can anyone help?

2003-11-30T19:26:00.000+08:00

Walking is a treat in spring.

I wish I could bottle this weather.

My father told me one of my tires needed air today. He went home then had second thoughts and drove back again to replace it with my spare. I hate being a helpless female when it comes to cars, power tools and plumbing (of which I know nothing) but it's nice to be looked after.

Also, the David Jones kidswear department. Mum and I were in seventh heaven. I used to think shopping for girly clothes was fun. Scratch that. Shopping for baby clothes is better.

And Fred Bare. Somewhere along the line I know I'm being ripped off. But what fun.

2003-11-28T21:38:00.000+08:00

James and his Mum. 12 weeks

2003-11-28T21:30:00.000+08:00

Mon mere came for a sleep-over visit tonight and brought with her a strange baked bread-like concoction that has veins of dark sticky chocolate throughout.

At first I thought she was giving me a slice of rye with my after dinner coffee (hooray for motherly fussing). How odd, I thought.

Yet it was chocolatey and delicious. Yum.

2003-11-27T21:43:00.000+08:00

I have come to love the wind-down time at the end of each day.

James is usually off in dreamland by 9.30pm (on a good night).

Then I will sit with my candles and book, Dean Martin crooning in the background, sometimes with a drop of red, enjoying the still of a summer evening.

It's at these times that I reflect on the day and pat myself on the back for a happy baby, an organised household, a wonderful partnership, a lovely warm family home.

It's true to say all parents need this 'sanity time' away from the chaos of everyday life. Time to reflect, appreciate and acknowledge how alternately exhausting, fulfilling, hellish, enjoyable, joyous, painful, wonderful and bloody hard it is to raise a little person, often all in the one day.

2003-11-26T17:12:00.000+08:00

I am happiest when my house is organised. People laugh about it and mutter under their breaths.

Alright I'm anal about it but their jibes bother me not. Clean and organised makes me inordinately happy.

So today was "O.C.D Day" in my little world. Laundry folding, floor washing, bedroom cleaning, drawer arranging even shoe arranging.

I'm looking forward to a light tipple of red wine tonight in my courtyard with a little Nat King Cole on the CD player. Add my wonky Christmas fairy lights (my husband announced I had "cocked up" the job of hanging them in the garden) and you have mummy relaxation heaven.

2003-11-24T10:38:00.000+08:00

12 weeks.
Let the brainwashing begin.

2003-11-23T10:35:00.000+08:00

Sprout's letter to her newborn.

What a beautiful letter and lovely idea.

2003-11-22T10:11:00.000+08:00

My heart has never known such love!

For once I am not talking about motherhood. Rather, my husband bought me a new camera.

Specs first. It's a Kodak DX4530, 5 megapixels, with it's own little print docking station that allows me to make professional prints. Can we say love!

Look!

And look!

Yes it's grass...but the clarity!

2003-11-21T21:46:00.000+08:00

Today a measure of intelligence was called for. I had a meeting scheduled with a professional in my line of work to discuss my returning to the ranks of the employed early next year.

Manage to find appropriate clothing that fits post-baby body. Check.

Manage to leave house on time with address written down and some idea of how to get there. Check

Manage to arrive on time with enough time to feed baby in the car beforehand. Check.

Leave husband and child to window shop before walking into office building. Check.

Stumble out 30 seconds later having been told I am in the wrong location entirely. Check.

Manage to locate husband wandering up the street and make mad dash towards him as husband suffers from selective deafness and cannot hear my frantic calls. Check.

Display complete inability to process simple data (like street addresses) by calling professional, apologising for lateness and asking for her office location at the very hour I am supposed to be sitting in front of her. Check.

Drive to location, leave husband and baby and run in a most ungraceful manner to professional's office. Check.

Realise at last moment I have neglected to wear disposable breast pad to prevent leakage on meeting-appropriate clothing. Pat myself on back for choosing 'forgiving' black top.Check.

Spend first few minutes of meeting wondering if I can pull off adult conversation anymore. Check.

Realise carrying off 'big-people-grown-up-oh-so-serious-and-important conversation' is like riding a bike. Check.

Realise during meeting that there is a small baby vomit stain on sleeve of suit jacket. Check.

Spend rest of meeting with hands on lap, arms hidden under boardroom table. Check.

Leave meeting to find baby and husband waiting outside for me, both with big smiles. Say silent prayer to self that I'm not returning to work just yet. Check.

2003-11-20T20:15:00.000+08:00

The First Big Drive.

Today we made the journey south to introduce James to Nanna # 2, a journey of some 45 minutes.

I wasn't worried about the longer than average car trip as the car seat is referred to as The Magic Chair for a reason. True to form it sprayed it's magical sleepy dust all over our baby as we trundled south of the city.

There was visiting, cuddles, catching up and later a barbeque at the home of one of Ben's ex-work mates. I found the heat and flies (everywhere!) a bit stressy with James but it was a pleasant few hours and so good to see old friends.

They gave James an engraved silver money box and placed a $2 coin inside, a British tradition we were told.

We left for home before dark. I have a thing about getting home with James before the sun sets. It makes me feel disorganised otherwise. Yep, I'm a real hoot at parties.

2003-11-19T20:50:00.000+08:00

James has a habit of trying to climb over your shoulder when you hold him.

He pushes down with his feet (with more strength than I thought an 11 week old could muster) and tries to propel himself up and over.

Accompanying all this effort comes much huffing and puffing. Today he seemed determined to climb over my shoulder whenever I sat on the lounge.

What lies behind the lounge in his little mind? More milk? Bags of mixed lollies?

Heading over Gran's shoulder, who knows where?

2003-11-18T22:40:00.000+08:00

James the Enormous.

2003-11-18T16:21:00.000+08:00

Baby bliss

2003-11-18T09:01:00.000+08:00

Overheard:

J: Scream!
S: Good morning sweetheart
J: (pause) Scream!
S: And hello to you too
J: Scream!
S: Darling, I understand you are hungry and I know that you are disappointed when you open your eyes in the morning and discover I am not standing topless, ready to feed you without delay. (makes way to kitchen with babe in arms)
J: Scream!
S: My love might I suggest that you hold off for just a few seconds while Mummy makes a cup of coffee (proceeds to make said beverage one handed)
J: Scream!
S: Dearest of ones, you have been awake less than 30 seconds ... I understand you simply must eat this very second but couldn't you possibly wait just 30 seconds more...
J: Scream!
S: Based on past behaviour have I ever asked you to skip a meal? Have I not met every one of your needs? Have you ever been even slightly inconvenienced? Is it not possible that you are blowing this matter entirely out of proportion and that you are in fact being less than patient on this occasion?
J: Scream!
S: We'll have a chat about logic later.

2003-11-17T12:17:00.000+08:00

11 weeks.
I have a strong distaste for Pooh and his fellow critters. It's a challenge finding baby products unadorned with Pooh logos. Can't do anything about gifts though.
Please note the unsual gift choice from my mother hanging on his cot. It produces endless snickering from his Dad and I. Pull it's doodle and it plays a tune.
Unsure why my camera has decided it's January 2000

Seems James merely suspended his feeding frenzy until this morning. He has been feeding almost constantly for the past few hours, although I have "escaped" to complete some chores in between sessions.

Last night he woke at 1.00am for a feed, then 5.15am. Not bad! And as usual he settles himself afterwards and falls straight back to sleep. Now when people ask me if I am getting enough sleep I say"oh yeah right" on reflex, but I suspect I shouldn't be complaining anymore.

Does it get worse? Have I seen the worst of it? If so I have been incredibly lucky.

2003-11-16T23:29:00.000+08:00

James was uncharacteristically sleepy throughout the early evening and has slept since 7.30pm. A far cry from the 6-9pm crying jags I have come to expect.

Instead he's all sweetness and light. I can't help but suspect he sneakily planned his good mood to coincide with a visit from Gran to blow my credibility.

Aside from the aforementioned "arsenic hour" tendancies I have nothing to complain about. He is a dream to look after. More responsive by the day (literally) good natured and placid. No one tells you it will be this much fun, only the bad stuff.

I am head over heels, perhaps now more than ever, if even possible. I am the mother who misses her child when he sleeps. This morning my own mother caught me about to stir James because he had been sleeping too long. As much as his naps give me the opportunity to "do stuff" sometimes I just yearn to wake him and spend time with him.

Am I loving motherhood more than I thought I would? In many ways, yes. Although it's so difficult to predict your reaction to such unchartered territory.

The love I feel is stronger than I knew existed. It's more primal and instinctive than I realised. I feel as though I have become a member of Secret Squirrels Club. As though parents were all keeping this magical,mysterious world from me before I became a parent myself.

I am more than a little wistful tonight. The house is quiet. James is sleeping lightly, grunting so soon to wake. It's thundering outside and I can hear the rain against the glass. I have strung up tiny white Christmas lights (can we say early?) around the courtyard and they look so pretty. Despite the balmy warmth I have a hot Milo beside me.

I have identified the early signs of a heavy sadness coming over me, probably situational, that I am determined to fight. But tonight I feel hopeful.

2003-11-11T08:20:00.000+08:00

Coralie and I have agreed, a good book makes breastfeeding more enjoyable. Coralie may not agree with me here, breastfeeding without a good book can be damn boring.

So, here are my recommendations thus far...

Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach.
Run, don't walk to read this novel. A truly gripping story that prompts your eyes to dance across the pages seeking out the next twist. I read this in less than 24 hours, just couldn't put it down.

I am not a fan of long and detailed descriptions of 'place.' The rolling hills, the misty moors, the cobblestone streets all leave me cold. I don't want to know. The emphasis on characterisation in this story drew me in to another world.

The Bride Stripped Bare by Anonymous.
All the rage, I know.
I was intrigued by the title when I chose this book, little realising it was a story of sexual exploration. It was a little racy for long breastfeeding jaunts, but interesting nonetheless. My friend is reading it now. I need to discuss the end with her. Confused.

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks.
I am reading this now, having stolen it from my father's bedside table. It's subtitled 'A Novel of the Plague' and is set in England in 1666. It's an absorbing read so far, as only a story about the plague can be I imagine. Lurid descriptions of diseased bodies and exploding boils make for fascinating night time reading.

A friend gave me a bag filled to the brim with books over the weekend. I am in a state of utter confusion about what to read next.

2003-11-11T07:56:00.000+08:00

My lads are sleeping, curled up beside each other. I have a hot coffee and ten minutes up my sleeve, perhaps fifteen. Who knows what I could achieve?

James is 10 weeks old today. Every day brings new milestones, thick and fast. It's quite extraordinary to watch a little person grasp new skills.

He has started smiling socially too many times a day to count. He laughs. Of particular amusement, caps. Especially brightly coloured ones.

The other day my husband's chatter, while wearing a red cap, prompted peals of laughter. Truly, there is no sweeter sound for me now.

He talks. A throaty, gurgling "gerrrr" sound. My Mum was right about that noise. We laughed at her, accusing her of spitting at him.

Current words; "Nnn-ga!" Clearly this is an attempt at the word "Hunger." Also, "Gaa-ah-waaa." Perhaps, "Go Away?" Such sophisicated vocabulary and such an advanced child.

He seems to want to use his legs, having discovered muscles he never knew he had. If especially irate about something he will push his feet into my lap and force himself upwards over my shoulder. Yesterday I wondered whether he was trying to escape out of the window.

He has such strength! He controls his head like a little turtle during periods of 'tummy time, ' straining to look upwards and see the room from a new angle.

We bought him a little play mat / baby gym for the floor in the hope this would satisfy his endless curiosity. Someone seems to have replaced my sleeping, passive little newborn with a robust, inquisitive infant that learns something new every day.

2003-11-11T07:40:00.000+08:00

Sadly the computer fixed itself. I was a tad wistful when I turned it on and it promptly obeyed, booting up without complication. No shiny new laptop for me.

2003-11-07T13:33:00.000+08:00

My computer has died or at the very least is seriously ill!

I might be scarce for a little while until I can get it seen to.

Until then, I may be able to update from Mum's computer on the odd occasion.
Hopefully won't disappear for too long, but wanted to post a quick explanation.

Be back soon!

2003-11-03T14:31:00.000+08:00

Have I mentioned how irresistably gorgeous the PLUM range of baby clothing is?

James has three size 00 summer suits from this range and one 0 with an adorable matching hat.

Another piece of practical baby clothing I am loving; the new Bonds stretchy-suit with short sleeves. James has 2 of these and the fabric is perfect. So practical in summer.

I saw a pair of tiny Speedos in David Jones. Tiny.

2003-11-02T14:16:00.000+08:00

This is James posting.

Just reporting that I slept from 10.30pm until 3am last night.

My Mum would have told you herself but she is dancing on the table swigging from a bottle of Veuve Cliquot.

2003-11-01T20:40:00.000+08:00

Quietly going insane here tonight.

The begging question; can a child want to feed for 4 straight hours?

Perhaps redundant as I know the answer.

Little wonder I finished 'Tulip Fever' today and am now in search of good reading fodder.

2003-11-01T08:04:00.000+08:00

My best friend dropped in yesterday, fresh from the lofty and luxurious confines of her new job, and brought InStyle, NW and two novels. What a buddy!

I am currently immersed in Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach. I couldn't help but sneak a few pages at a time during overnight feeding sessions, despite being dog-tired.

My Mum slept over and today we have plans to walk by the river, grab coffee at Dome and avoid shopping at Witchery at all costs for gratuitous shoe buying. Oh, that last part snuck in ...subconscious mantra.

Last night James was in a feeding frenzy. 3 hours at last count, crying on the breast, de-latching, crying, latching furiously, de-latching etc. I was tired and plum worn out and frustrated and nothing I did helped for long. Utterly exhausting stuff. Cue 2 neighbourhood kids knocking on the door to ask, "Trick or Treat?"

I didn't hurl abuse, but I wasn't the cheeriest. Not one to comprehend this tradition, they picked the wrong house tonight. God help them had they inflicted a "trick." I may have attacked.

In the end we discovered it was probably wind pains and he was sucking for comfort. I may start using the Infacol, it seems to provide a measure of relief.

2003-10-30T10:19:00.000+08:00

Almost forgot, Coralie "snipped" me.

2003-10-30T09:38:00.000+08:00

When James wakes up from one of his multitude of daily power naps the following scenario takes place:

1. grunting and squirming
2. arms and legs start flailing about resemblant of an insect having been sprayed with morteine
3. one eye opens
4. other eye follows
5. thrashing about with arms and legs becomes faster and more urgent
6. bottom lip starts to curl
7. frantic, panicked expression on face appears
8. furrowed brow
9. heavy breathing
10. scream, tears, take a breath, scream

He is the most amusing person I have ever met.

2003-10-30T09:28:00.000+08:00

Changes to the childcare regime that may result in more centres hence greater access. (story at news.com.au)

According to the article, ABS figures suggest half of Australian children are in some form of childcare. Not surprising considering I cannot imagine how families survive for long on one income.

2003-10-29T13:43:00.000+08:00

And we have sleep!

A better day in all respects.

I even managed to sort through an organise 3 piles of bills, admin type stuff and paperwork that had been collecting dust in my study. Of course, I had to set myself up on the lounge room floor while giving James some tummy-time on his rug.

It was chaotic for a while there, papers everywhere. But I have found it's possible to be organised, you just have to be inventive in the process.

For instance, it is possible to have a sleeping child on your lap and apply nailpolish. Did you know?

2003-10-28T20:51:00.000+08:00

James is 2 months old today.

It wasn't the best of days. He had his 8 week round of immunisations (Crying: James-1, Mummy-0).

The doctor told me children don't generally have a reaction to the drugs. A few hours, a red-faced crying marathon and a dose of Baby Pandol later I knew James wasn't fitting the "general" category. He howled the house down.

He has been irritable all day since. I have been feeding since roughly around 3pm. Yes, over 5 hours off and on, sitting on the lounge, with only 15-20 minutes in between sessions.

Why yes I did have Peanut M&Ms for my dinner. Zero sustenance, zero nutrition but thankfully zero preparation.

Yes, yes, I know I said no junk food will cross my threshold, but bear with me, I am a frazzled mum today.

He's crying again and it looks like I won't get even the smallest of breaks to sit and go into a trance to try and unwind. Like I said, not the very best of days.

2003-10-27T15:15:00.000+08:00

Child meets cat.

2003-10-27T12:06:00.000+08:00

Drear, rain, overcast, etc, whinge, whine, grumble

Ben returned to work which meant an early morning trip to the airport. On the way home James and I stopped at a mini-supermarket / service station for nappies and a pile of magazines to distract me on this gloomy day.

We met a group of friends at a boutique pub on Saturday afternoon. It was crowded and finding a table where we could park the pram out of the sun was difficult. It was thoroughly pleasant as afternoons go and the company was good as always, but I made up my mind we will do most of our entertaining at home for a little while.

Maybe it was the sparkling shiraz but we stayed longer than I was comfortable and was left feeling guilty that I didn't have James home before 8 o'clock. Silly really as he slept quite comfortably in his pram but the scene changed after dark and all I wanted to do was just take our baby home.

Newborns are very portable, but nothing beats being at home surrounded by the extensive equipment that it takes to keep one happy and content.

Of course, this startling revelation of mine means that I have the perfect excuse to revamp our courtyard. I want to pull out some plants, put in some new varieties, oil the table and decking, get some citronella candles etc.

2003-10-25T13:15:00.000+08:00

Now this is nipple confusion.

2003-10-22T11:42:00.000+08:00

At James's 7 weeks check with the child health nurse today he weighed in just under 5kg at 4935 grams and has grown 8 cm from birth.

Surprisingly enough, when she charted his growth he is average in all areas, having already caught up with full term babies.

He is, in every respect, a baby walrus.

2003-10-21T16:27:00.000+08:00

James had fractious moments today.

If he sleeps longer than an hour during the morning and doesn't feed incessantly I know what to expect. Hours upon hours of cluster feeds where he grizzles on the breast and cries and de-latches himself and then latches furiously. Breastfeeding has all of a sudden become rather exhausting.

He's sleeping now and I anticipate him waking within a few minutes. Perhaps 15 if he's especially weary. He is such a light sleeper during the day. This is probably a good thing. At night he sleeps for 2-3 hour stretches. Clearly he is civilised enough to have distinguished night from day...

I called a consultant from the Nursing Mother's Association for the first time the other day. Apparently they consult in their homes as I heard small children running around in the background and she sounded frazzled. Feeling rather guilty, I recounted the tales of 3-4 hour feeding sessions during which I am forced to stay put on the lounge. "Mmm..." he sounds like a 'sucky' baby. Do you like reading?"

Thankfully I do. James and I read half The Bulletin together this morning. He was especially interested in the article outlining the behind the scenes machinations of the Liberal Party and stared intently at me as though deep in thought as I read it to him.

A baby after my own heart.

The time has come for me to go down the predictable route and talk post-pregnancy weight loss. Although, after the so-called 'controversy' on Australian Idol during the week I am reluctant as it's such a boring issue.

Fact is I am feeling enormous. After a sudden flourish of weight loss in the first few weeks I am still hovering around 70 kg. This is 10-12kg above what I am comfortable seeing on the scales. Of course, this initial loss was from breastfeeing and diet alone. If I want to lose the rest I don't see any solution other than moving my legs out the door with the pram at least 3 times a week.

I cringe when I see photos of myself and worse still, video. I have set myself the deadline of Christmas for all the excess weight to come off. I'm fiercely resolute about these things once I set my mind to it. Not scrap of junk food passes my threshold when I get into this frame of mind.

My Mum came over for dinner last night. It was lovely, we bathed James and I put on an oil burner with Chamomile and Sandalwood and we had a tipple of Goundrey red and it was pleasant, not chilly as it has been recently at night.

Right on cue there goes my baby alarm from his bassinet. I can detect the undeniably heavier breathing of a waking child. Now I just need to finish my afternoon 'sanity-coffee' and before long we will be driving to the airport to pick up his Dad, which makes this a fantastic afternoon in my book.

2003-10-21T13:37:00.000+08:00

Zero to irate in 3 seconds...

2003-10-19T11:35:00.000+08:00

What I wouldn't give for a sunny Spring day. It's overcast here and dreary.

James, Mum and I are going to wander down to my favourite little local restaurant and have something delicious for lunch. If the sun pops it's head out all the better.

Sundays are always my favourite day because it means only 2 more days until my husband, Ben, returns home from work. Every second Tuesday you can find James and I at the airport with all the other wives and girlfriends, waiting anxiously and counting the planes coming in.
It's a big deal.

This morning has been marked by too many coffees. Surprisingly enough James is sleeping the morning away. The new Moccona Mocha Coffee is rather addictive.

2003-10-18T19:10:00.000+08:00

There is nothing more peaceful than watching a baby sleeping with Brahm's Lullaby playing softly in the background.

This version is played by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and a sweeter rendition you never did hear.

James drifted off to sleep in the Baby Bjorn while I typed up my assignment at the computer. Either the BB or the music bought me enough time to finish my final essay and email it off to my lecturer. Relief.

2003-10-18T13:48:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I look at him and feel such overwhelming, aching love that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

He is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I didn't know I would love him like this. I have known him 6 weeks and all of a sudden I don't know where I would be without him in my life.

2003-10-17T15:32:00.000+08:00

I bravely undertook a trip to the hairdressers today with newborn in tow. An endeavour doomed to disaster, perhaps, but mummy had been dying her own roots for far too long people.

I sat down and told my stylist to make haste, we didn't have long! Even after topping him up twice before leaving home with big feeds I knew there was little chance of him lasting 2 hours without wanting more - or at least a snack to make sure I was around.

He didn't start fussing until I was at the basin. I had a really nice male hairdresser washing the colour off and he let me get up and check him and sit there with him for a while before having toner applied.

He fed for about 20 mins, luckily they weren't especially busy and could leave me and continue once he was finished. He was the star of the room, attracting so much attention for his cuteness that I don't think the other clients really minded the grating background music of baby wails and squawks, despite the elegance ambience of the salon.

Later I sat him on my lap while I lay back on the recliner at the basin. I think the gentle vibrations of the massager soothed him because he sat quietly staring up at the ceiling lights. He sat on my lap during my haircut too, watching my stylist do her business.

Never again though! Quite a stressful trip to the hairdressers, when once it was so peaceful and luxurious.

I like the style too. She muted my blonde with a caramel tint and ash coloured foils. And gave the back a quick trim so the rest of it can grow to catch up. It's the first time I have liked my hair in months.

2003-10-16T13:52:00.000+08:00

James's 6 week follow-up with the pediatrician today and all is well.

Despite his prematurity the doctor doesn't see the need to see him at 6 & 12 months as his progress has always been so good.

I was anxious to discuss James's umbilical hernia that developed around his second week and has grown substantially larger since then. Nothing to worry about, he assured me. They usually grow to maximum size by 3 months and then decrease gradually and go away without treatment by 12 months. I need only check that it can be depressed back into his abdomen when James is calm/not crying. If so, it won't need surgery. It's odd looking, but harmless.

He was 4.7kg ... currently putting on just over a 0.5 kg a week.

Look at the difference. On the left, 2.5 weeks old on his Dad's chest. On the right 6.5 weeks old.

2003-10-16T08:24:00.000+08:00

James woke up at 11.30pm, 1.30am, 4.30am and 7.30am overnight.

Despite this I feel more rested today than usual, surprisingly enough.

He's "calling" out from his bassinet now, with his little whines, groans and mumbles. Time to grab a quick coffee before I am pinned to the lounge for the next hour I think.

It's gloriously sunny today at last.

2003-10-13T11:41:00.000+08:00

False impressions indeed.

Found an excellent link on "fussy" babies at kellymom.com. This describes James's current state of mind after a very placid start.

6 weeks this week. Coincidence?

Aside from wanting to breast feed hourly at times, if not half-hourly, if not constantly and fussing about as though he has a terrible temper this growth spurt brings with it other nicer developments. He stays awake longer, his eyes are wider, he stares more intently at faces and objects. He has smiled a handful of times at his Dad or myself.

Not only is he a noisy sleeper, prone to snuffles, grunts and groans etc he is also a lighter sleeper than I imagined. I was told newborns would sleep through almost anything. Not so our little boy. I have to be careful when he's nodded off, sleep time is suddently so precious as the only time I have a second to spare for other tasks. Any noise beyond the tv seems to make him restless.

He wakes every 2/2.5 hours overnight for a feed. How any human being manages to look so bright-eyed and alert at 3am is beyond me. I am yet to be able to master the lay-down breast feeding position and feel comfortable that he is getting enough to eat. Once I can multitask and achieve this I doubt I will be able to do so and keep my eyes open without the aid of matchsticks.

2003-10-04T11:22:00.000+08:00

2003-09-15T09:57:00.000+08:00

We had our first visit from the child health nurse today.

She was very nice, but sitting and trying to hold a decent conversation with her in my lounge room made me realise how foggy my brain is at the moment. Lack of sleep must be getting to me.

He is doing great. Up 300 gms from the day we were discharged, which is brilliant. He now weighs 2.9kg, up 200 gms from his birth weight.

He passed all the little assessments she put him through. He managed to poo all over the floor while I was undressing him and then wee all over my top as I was carrying him up the hallway. It was excretement central.

His head circumference has increased too. I knew that it wasn't my imagination, just looking at him I can see his growth and development. He is more robust, awake for longer, feeds with extra enthusiasm. Amazing.

We are getting into a vague routine, even though everyone tells me that routine with a newborn doesn't exist. The last feed before bed is around 11pm. He wakes again arounf 1.30-2.00am and then again around 5.00am. After this last feed I put him in bed beside his Dad for cuddles. This allows me around 3 hours of totally uninterrupted blissful slumber that I love.

So far it's all been an absolute joy.

2003-09-02T09:35:00.000+08:00

laborious labour story

I had counted 36 weeks but have since been told I was 35 weeks and 3 days. So much for my obstetrician making things clear as mud.

I woke up Monday 1st September with a dull ache low in my pelvis and the vague notion that it had been lingering all night. It felt very similar to bad period pain.

My husband went off to work and I started my day.

Around 9am I started to recognise an ebb and flow to the pain. A tightening in my lower pelvis and then nothing for a few minutes. I watched the clock with one eye and realised they were coming every 5 minutes.

I called the midwife at my OB’s office and was told to take 2 Panadol and lie down and call back in an hour. I posted a few questions on some discussion boards & a mailing list asking what a contraction felt like and then laid down waiting for the pains to pass.

They didn’t, so I called my OB back.

I was sent to the labour ward for some monitoring. I drove to the hospital and had my Mum meet me in the carpark downstairs. I felt pensive but absolutely certain it was a false alarm. The first thing my Mum said to me was, “You’re in labour.”

I laughed and told her she was only saying that because she was desperate to meet him. Later she explained I just looked “ready.”

They hooked me up to the machine and a midwife wandered in, “You’re the lady in labour?” “No!” I said, startled “They told me I just have Braxton Hicks.”

I was monitored for 1.5 hours before they announced I wasn’t in labour and sent me home.

We went to my parent’s for dinner. By 8.00pm I was squirming in my chair with progressively worse contractions. They hadn’t gone away in well over 12 hours. My excited Mum sat smugly nearby, “I’ve had 4 children and never even heard of a Braxton Hicks … you’re in labour no doubt in my mind.”She had a point. I remember thinking if these were practice contractions I was toast. Ouch.

I was still determined to believe I wasn’t in labour. Something about being told as much by “experts” and my propensity to believe them despite evidence to the contrary. Once home that night my husband convinced me to call the labour ward again. Bugger, I thought, I was so looking forward to a warm cup of Milo, a foot massage and The Bachelor III.

I called and they told me to come in, where I would probably be kept overnight. I sat down on the edge of the bed and cried. “I’m not ready…I’m really not ready…” I kept saying over and over.I hadn’t finished packing my hospital bag, nor had I contemplated a “birth plan” but I wasn’t referring to any of that. I meant that I didn’t feel ready to give birth. I was excited about the end result, but hadn’t considered the time being here so soon.

At the hospital they put me in a room, gave me Panadol and a sedative and left me to sleep over night. No one came near me and I woke up thinking I would have had a more restful sleep in my own bed.

Around 8 am my husband returned and so did the pains. In an exercise of wishful thinking I got dressed to go home. While in the bathroom I noticed what must have been a ‘show.’ Delightfully icky and enough to finally convince me that things were moving along whether I was ready or not.

My OB happened to be away so his relief came in and did an internal examination. “You’re 3cm dilated!” she announced, happily, “You’re having your baby today.”

Cue stunned expression on my face and my husband’s.“Don’t worry 35 week babies do fine. No problems at all.” And she left the room.

I burst into tears. I felt shocked and now, more than a little worried about the welfare of the baby. Previously I had been thinking I was 36 weeks. To hear I was otherwise and delivering today blew me away.

The nurse was lovely. She sat down on the bed and reassured me that everything would be okay and that she had seen many pre-term babies deliver happy and healthy. I didn’t doubt her; I simply hadn’t contemplated this happening to us.

“Be excited,” she said, “you’re going to meet your baby very soon.”

This made me smile and I snapped back into reality almost immediately.

I walked to the delivery room with a nurse, jumped up on the bed (I told you I was cheerful) and happily accepted the offer of an epidural. Phone calls were made back and forth between parents and mothers in law and sisters and brothers overseas.

Over the next few hours you wouldn’t have known I was in labour. My Mum and Dad sat chatting with us around my bed, lunch was served (fruit salad for me), my mother-in-law arrived and the epidural masked the contractions. It passed through my mind this giving birth business was easy after all.

In hindsight I should have spent these hours sleeping. I was utterly exhausted during the transition phase to the point where I vaguely remember asking everyone to leave so I could grab 10 minutes rest. Not exactly realistic.

Once active labour began around 4.00pm that afternoon they ushered everyone but my husband out of the room on our instructions. Hourly top-ups to the epidural weren’t completely masking the pain and I was writhing around on the bed starting to tire.

The contractions eased by the epidural made it nigh on impossible to detect when I should push and where. The midwives kept telling me to push into my bum area but when the whole area is as numb as can be I couldn’t feel whether I was doing it right.

It grew increasingly frustrating. Even though they kept telling me what a good job I was doing and that they could see the very top of his head I felt as though I wasn’t getting anywhere at all without knowing how to push properly.

This went on for about an hour but it felt like decades. I grew ‘feral’ in the transition phase probably from hours and hours of exhausting pain. I was just so tired. I didn’t cry but I did tell the midwife I couldn’t do it anymore.

Things happened very quickly then. The OB came in and I heard them telling her,” she’s not comfortable pushing.” Then my legs were draped in green cloth, the OB told me she was administering a total motor block and my now lifeless legs were placed in stirrups. James was delivered with forceps 5 minutes after that. I shut my eyes and heard my husband saying, “There’s his head,” and then, “He’s here…He’s out…”

They placed him on my chest straight away. I remember feeling relieved to hear his cry. His colour was good and he was hollering. I knew that was a great sign. I vaguely recall watching a needle go into my leg and not feeling a thing as then turning to one side as my husband was cutting the umbilical cord.

I felt like a spectator. I was too stunned to believe this was all actually happening to me. This is the birth of my baby? No, this is just something I'm watching on the Discovery channel.

The OB said something about delivering the placenta while I watched my husband walk around to the pediatrician's bench where James was placed under lights. I couldn't see much, but I could hear them saying he was "fine" and that he looked really good. I knew things were okay when my husband started posing for photos that the pediatrician was taking!

When I was stitched up they invited my parents and mother-in-law back into the room. My husband had escorted James down to the neo-natal ward to hold his hand while he was being tested. So cute. I still felt totally out of it, but managed to converse with everyone and accept their congratulations.

Then they wheeled two trays on dinner in. I had heard they did this while you were still in the delivery room and I thought I would be pretty disgusted eating amongst all the gore. All that blood everywhere. But it's amazing how much you change afterwards, with the relief of giving birth to a healthy baby and sheer tiredness.

So, I had some salad and cheese and some ice cream (bizarre combination) and after about 30 minutes or so they brought James in for a breast feed.

I felt amazed and stunned and quite out of it, but managed to feed him. I didn't know what to think, I was in awe of him. It was just physically and emotionally overwhelming. That morning I still believed I wasn't going to have my baby for 5 weeks. By evening I was holding him.

They took him away again and I wasn't yet lucid enough to feel the pangs of separation. My dead legs were totally distracting to me. I couldn't hold them up when they were cleaning me. They felt like dead weights of flesh and I just hated it.

My parents left and my husband and mother-in-law came up with me to my room. I was dead tired and they left as soon as I was settled.

That night around 12 I woke up with more sensation in my legs and felt an overwhleming urge to see my baby. I placed my hand on the phone beside my bed suddenly worried that he would be the only baby in the neo-natal ward without a parent calling to check on him.
Just as I did that - and I mean *just* as my hand reached the phone - my door opened and a midwife wheeled him in for a feed. Maybe I sensed his presence nearby? It was a weird coincidence.

I remember falling in love as she placed him in my arms. The drugs were nearly out of my system and I was able to look at him properly without anyone else standing around. It was as though my heart grew 50 times over and enveloped me in this extraordinary, amazing love and feeling of protection and devotion.

I cried as she wheeled him away. I just hated having him so far away from me. I lay in bed crying the first night, the first of many tearful nights to come.
---------
To cut a long story short...because honestly this birth story is starting to resemble Tolstoy...James spent his first 6-7 days in Neo-Nates. We visited him every feed. I wanted to play a part in every aspect of his care. Even at 2am every night I would be down there in my dressing gown holding his tube or feeding him on the breast. I savoured every minute I was able to be with him.

Some nights they would bring him up to me and it was always wonderful when I had an easy-going nurse who would leave us alone and come back an hour later to collect him.

The worst night was when a different nurse was on shift and she obviously thought she had to stay with us the entire time. She stood over my bed while I fed him and then whisked him from me and wheeled him out of my room. The floodgates opened and I sobbed and sobbed once they had left. She had no idea how much I looked forward to those times and how much I wanted to scream, "Just leave my son and I alone!"

It wasn't all bad though. The news every morning from the pediatrician was always fantastic. The only reason he was there in neo-nates was to watch that he could control his body temperature, that he was tolerating feeds on the breast and that he eventually started gaining weight.

He had his first bath in the neo-natal ward. We were so antsy by this stage, just wanting him to be up on the ward with us. Yet, we stayed positive because were knew he was getting the best care possible.

The best day was around day 7 when I got to the unit and was told, "James is being transferred to the ward today!" Excitement! He was finally going to be with me 24 hours a day. I couldn't get used to the fact that no one could wheel him away anymore. He was all mine and I just loved it.

He acted like a text book baby, putting on weight when he was supposed to, tolerating 100% breast feeding, maintaining 36.8 degrees. He was just doing wonderfully.

Finally on day 9 we were able to go home. Words can't explain it. My husband and I were so thrilled. And I was *so* ready to be out of hospital.

2003-08-23T09:34:00.000+08:00

bambino alert
34 weeks

23 aug 03
Physically I have been feeling quite helpless. It's difficult to manouvre myself around my back has started hurting, I can't bend without enormous effort. I feel like a big tellytubby.
Turning over in bed is the worst. I feel as if I have been nailed to the bed, my body is so heavy.

It's all part of the fun. Come to think of it I have only recently begun to feel *really* pregnant. The bodily changes and concessions I must make for my condition are as annoying as they are exciting. Annoying because I feel so helpless and exciting because all this obviously means we are getting so much closer.

At my OB appointment the other day the trainee midwife "guessed" that I was 38 weeks along already. My face fell, "Oh really?" I said, "I was going to ask whether I am bigger than 'normal."

The OB guessed our baby would weigh about 8 pounds and would be "nothing (I) can't push out." cough

19 aug 03
I was absolutely swamped with, "don't worry, you'll be alright" stories.

I hate those stories most of all. I'm not all that worried. If I am it's only the unchartered waters of labour pain.

The way I see it, women have been having babies and raising children for eons. I am sure I will be fine. I managed to say as much, which gave me a bit of self satisfaction.

The baby does seem to be moving less the past week or so. Of course, when he does re-adjust himself it's very strong and noticeable, but with less room in there his little jerky movements are not as common. I love the jabs and rolls etc so I have been conscious of their absence. Yes, I have been worrying a little bit. He always seems to move a little to reassure me when I get too worried.

I am able to work out which direction he is laying in. The big bulge out the right hand side of my tummy is his spine and abdomen I imagine, he's still upside down and his arms and legs are dangling out the left hand side. I guess I will find out if this is correct at my appointment this Thursday.

So.sick.of.doctors.visits.

My husband has been so, so good. He rubs my legs and feet every night. Under sufferance, but it makes me feel so good he makes the effort.
I feel so strongly that I must be near him at all times. It's odd. I am like Pepe Le Pew, and he is the poor lusted-after cat, the way I try and lure him to me.

2003-08-15T09:32:00.000+08:00

I'm finishing up at work this week.

Which is good news, frankly. My attention span is worse than ever and I'm feeling physically exhausted.

I know every woman says this, but seriously, is it possible for my stomach to grow any larger?

bambino alert
33 weeks
Baby is nearly ripe, just needs some more fat. It is starting to focus on things apparently, although there can't be much to look at right now.

2003-08-03T09:29:00.000+08:00

Such an organised creature, I re-decorated my study.

IKEA have such an extraordinary collection of cheap, functional furniture that allows even the most disorganised amongst us to feel together.
Voila! A new desk, bookcases, shelves, lamps and other little accoutrements of organisation, tidiness and order.

Now I don't have any excuse to put off studying/bill paying and emailing. Evidence - an assignment signed sealed and delivered (by email) yesterday afternoon. It took me 4 weeks too long, mainly because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in such an untidy room, but now that things are orderly, it's done.

I am currently fighting off a cold/tonsillitis that is leaving me utterly miserable. That and lack of sleep have made for a pity-fest of a weekend.

Tonight I am making chicken and steamed vegetables in the hope of giving myself a nutritional kick-start to the working week. I am going to be hellishly busy.
No time for a pyjama day this week.

bambino alert
31 weeks
Kicking / rolling /punching so strongly and regularly now.
This weeks developmental milestone is plenty of eye opening and shutting and apparently increased brain activity.
Baby weighs around 1.5kg. The other 14 kg is me, me, gloriously round me.

2003-07-20T09:28:00.000+08:00

bambino alert
29 weeks
Last week of the twenties.
Baby's kicks have now developed into tumbles, pokes and jabs. Stands to reasons considering it's now approx. 26cm long and growing too big for the living quarters.
I am having trouble finding a comfortable sleeping position, lugging this ever-growing stomach out in front of me. Only allowed brief periods on my right side and sleeping on my back less comfortable. Which leaves my left side only.

2003-07-13T09:22:00.000+08:00

I went walking here over the weekend.
That, and beers at the Norfolk are two things I miss. I had a half-pint of Guinness. Which sort of isn't worth the effort.

sat 12 july 03
I have had a lurking headache for 5 days straight. Could this be baby hormones wreaking havoc? Stress? Or both?

Turns out I am in the third trimester, which starts week 27. I get that. What I don't get is that I am currently 28 weeks pregnant which = 7 months yet I have 12 weeks to go, thus 3 months...so why the hell did they change the pregnancy rules to 10 months gestation without telling me?

I realise it has something to do with the date of the first day of your last period, which means they add 4 weeks on somewhere at the beginning but this knowledge doesn't help my strained brain grasp the concept.

I'm 7 months pregnant but actually 6 months pregnant. There you are. Clear as mud.
The out-of-the-ordinary diet I have adopted, which now includes a raving desire for ice cream after dinner and entire blocks of chocolate, has caught up with me. I knew it couldn't possibly be healthy but I have been craving high sugar foods. My trip to the OB this week revealed glucose in my urine which meant a blood test afterwards which may reveal gestational diabetes or excessive sugar intake in my diet.
The latter won't surprise me.

Cutting back on fruit is proving to be the most difficult, with mandarins and bananas calling me name from a bowl in the kitchen.

And my Mum made a delicious chocolate cake brimming with fresh cream and strawberries for D's 'Happy Resignation' party last night that is now sitting temptingly in the fridge.

Only 3 more months before I can go back to my regular unhealthy ways of skipping lunch, drinking coffee, weighing myself excessively and not even walking down the supermarket chocolate aisle let alone stuffing my face with all it contains.

bambino alert
28 weeks, 4 days
The kicks are coming hard and fast. This morning I was being tickled on one side of my stomach while being kicked on the other. The 4.30am scheduling of this event does not bode well for future sleep patterns (i.e. mine)

thurs 10 july 03
My study has all the style of a bomb shelter. Post raid.
God-knows-what piled in the wardrobe recess. Piles of crap and junk waist height. It's the last room, barring the horrific garage, to be blessed by the decorating wand.
Not that I have finished elsewhere, but I haven't even started in here.
I want this desk from IKEA and a sofa bed like this with maybe something crazy like this on the floor.

wed 9 july 03
At work today I met another pregnant woman. They are in short supply in my everyday life, so I am always so eager to talk to them.

She is due in a few weeks, and looked so radiant and gorgeous, although she admitted to being tired and sore. We compared bellies and mine didn't measure up. I'm fairly small by most standards, I have decided. (That's small in the belly. Not elsewhere - ha)

I've been swamped lately. Tomorrow afternoon I'm off to have my hair done. So looking forward to a few hours feeling glam in my tres trendy salon. I am convinced my hair is growing faster. Maybe it's all the extra food...

I spotted the Ideal Pram weeks ago. All in my attempt to indoctrinate brand loyalty as soon as possible. No doubt the steering wheel console with "realistic sounding car horn and starting engine, movable gear shifter, clicking turning key, rear-view mirror and a push-button radio that plays three songs" will be have batteries removed within the first 6 months to soothe frayed parental nerves but it's funky and cool and I couldn't resist.

I told the salesgirl I wanted to be able to jog with it (wishful thinking?) and she told me it was the perfect pram for that very pursuit. I got the box home only to discover the words, "This is not a jogging stroller" in bold type.

Hmm...if not why not? Probably some Australian Standard requirement. I should probably take it back, but I've written to the Customer Service department for an explanation first. Who knew the pram buying business was complex?

Thundering rain outside. Time for Lipton black tea and The Panel.

bambino alert
28 weeks
I'm either in the third trimester now or I enter it next week. I am in no-mans land and baffled.
Apparently the baby, covered all over in goo called vernix, is developing ridges on it's brain this week. Multi-tasking.
I do know it's been kicking furiously and tonight, for the first time, above my belly button.

2003-07-08T09:08:00.000+08:00

A charmed day in every respect.
First someone put the day on fast forward.
Second some fortuitous networking at a work meeting.
Then a cheerful parking inspector who ripped up the ticket he had just printed out for me because I stopped myself from giving him an excuse.
"Best excuse I've heard," he announced "I'll just make note, 'Lovely female driver," and off he walked.
Everything fell into place today. The baby slept it away, didn't kick me once. Lazy little fellow.

bambino alert
27 weeks
Last week of the second trimester. Apparently babies born now have a 90% chance of surviving, despite having under-developed lungs. Our bean is celebrating this fact by learning to open and close it's eyes.

2003-07-01T09:01:00.000+08:00

One of those busy days when you don't notice the gap between plonking yourself down at your work desk in the morning and the moment when you spot a clock that reads 3pm.

Must remember to eat lunch.

Dealing with agents makes me break out in hives. I remain unconvinced that they do anything of value at all, except wait around for potential buyers during home-opens and take phone calls at inconvenient hours.

I remain even less convinced that I want to pay 4% commission for this simple convenience.

bambino alert
26 weeks
Baby is packing on the fat.
Baby's not the only one.

2003-06-20T09:00:00.000+08:00

One month between entries and I am not even 'live' yet. Doesn't say much when my interest wanes to that extent.

In keeping with my plan to do something with this site, rather than write it for my personal amusement, I nearly bought a domain last week. This week I might actually do it.

Baby is obviously the next Wayne Carey. The kicks and tumbles started at 4.15am and didn't really stop until midday. Sure makes the workday more interesting trying to remain serious when someone is tickling you from the inside.

Coupled with kicks, which are actually kind of pleasant since the baby has relatively little strength, I felt pains across my abdomen today and yesterday. They were tight, muscular pains across the width of my stomach.

My brain raced. Braxton-Hicks? Early labour? Food poisoning? I called my OB's office just to be sure. They're so patient with the raving lunacy that is first-time pregnancy.
The midwife is always so soothing. It was ligament pain, no doubt, she explained (talking soft and slow as though to a toddler needing reassurance). I have been reading everywhere to expect it but I wasn't sure what to expect. Now I know. Ligament pain = ouch.

Thank god I start my first antenatal exercise class this week. This body needs some serious pre-labour preparation.

bambino alert
25 weeks, 3 days
Saw a 3-D Ultrasound of a 26 week old fetus at pregnancyweekly.com. Spooky.

2003-05-19T21:01:00.000+08:00

I have been amusing myself with Kaz Cooke's take on pregnancy, entitled 'Up The Duff' here in Australia.

I spotted a dog-eared copy in my obstetrician's waiting room and was so hooked by it I bought my own copy. It's touted as "the soundest, sanest, wittiest advice you'll ever get" and as far as I'm concerned it is.

It has taught me more than my Derek LLewwllyn-Jones bible and illustrated Dorling Kindersley 'Complete Book of Mother & Baby Care' (a.k.a 'Motherhood for Dummies?') put together.

Unlike the above named texts it doesn't strike fear into your heart should you stoop to consume a glass of champagne (or two). Nor does it makes you feel like installing your own home ultrasound machine if you don't feel fluttering / butterflies / bubbles or any of the 10,000 other examples used to describe the quickening by 1 minute and 1 second into your 19th week.

I especially liked this part ...
"I had not bargained on the body taking control of itself. The power of the mind? Pah.
As far as my body was concerned, its major priority was growing a healthy baby.
Several times I felt my legs going off along the corridor for a lie down when I thought my torso should have been elsewhere. I woke up in the middle of the night compelled to eat banana sandwiches and drink glasses of soy milk.
I had become a host organ.
My first thoughts every morning and my last thoughts at night were about being pregnant, and there was a fair whack of it in between..."

This part...
"...you have to deal IMMEDIATELY with a tiny person who depends on you completely (and also do stuff with your bosoms they don’t even ask from exotic dancers)."

And this part...
"...It hadn’t occurred to me that the reality of being pregnant eventually would be felt constantly in every physical part of my body, and in every recess of what I fondly used to call my mind. "...I’m a career woman, I thought. I’m over 30. I’ve always pretended to be in control of my life, and that doesn’t have to stop just because I’m pregnant. I’ll just live my life the way it has always been (without getting pissed and having a few fags at the weekend). Work will go on as normal, life at home will be just the same, only I’ll need bigger shirts at some point..."...Isn’t this terrifying, and wonderful, and fascinating, and boring as batshit, all at the same time?"

2003-05-18T12:57:00.000+08:00

This is a journal documenting snippets from my experiences as a new mother.

It's sure to be a big bore to any web demographic outside new mothers/mothers-to-be. For me it satisfies that biological urge that afflicts all new mothers; the urge to talk endlessly about our children. I don't profess to be even remotely cerebral in these pages, it's purely fun.

As a mother with "L-Plates" I have gained immeasurably from reading the experiences of other first timers. These are just some of my experiences for what they are worth.

Here's the basic context:

I'm Sarah, 29, a graduate and first time mother. My husband, Ben, is 31. We married in late 2002 and both decided we wanted a child right away. I found out I was pregnant in February 2003.

I had a dream pregnancy with very little to complain about (although I managed to find reasons anyway). I worked until 33 weeks and went into labour for no apparent reason at 35 weeks, 3 days.

James was born 5 weeks early, on Tuesday 2 September 2003.
He weighed 2730 grams and was 49cm long.
You can read about my labour and his birth in the pages of this journal.

So, hello and welcome!