And so the world changes...

Little Miri is ten days old today!

I can't really tell if the time has gone quickly or slowly, it's all been a very surreal blur. I can't really imagine her not being here now. On the other hand, it is so scary that Carl has so little time left before going back to work. He took another two weeks of annual leave after his incredibly generous paternity leave of ten days, (!!!) but even so, I don't know how I am going to cope without him around.

Miranda is developing very quickly indeed, however. Without wishing to jinx matters, we have had three reasonable nights in a row now, and she seems to be establishing a pattern, with night time wakings restricted to 3.30am and 6.30am only. This is remarkably impressive and has enabled us both to feel more or less human again. Here's hoping it continues!

Looking back, I have amazed myself with how long I managed to keep going last week. I had to stay overnight in hospital after the birth - mainly because they were concerned about me (having lost a lot of blood) rather than Miranda. That was really really harsh - I was utterly exhausted and had no idea what I was doing or how to handle a very new, hungry, tired, noisy baby, and they made Carl go home on his own! He really didn't want to go, but at least he got some sleep. I didn't. Miranda worked out how to get milk out of me very, very quickly, and most of that night was spent with her destroying the top few layers of skin on my nipples. She also ended up sleeping in the bed with me, which the midwives Disapproved Of - but it was the only way I could get her to shut up.

Jo and Graeme visited that evening, and Jo nearly cried when she saw a Real Actual Baby. (Best Jo-ism of the week: "Congrats - We knew you had it in you!") The next day my parents arrived, and Chris and Rachel with little Nini... and then I finally got to take her home. On Tuesday we took her round town to show her off and buy a few bits and test the car seat, and then on Wednesday the midwife visited and the parents left and the ferrets got a proper sniff at her... and all the while, she was waking about four times during the night and feeding on demand...

I honestly think I was running entirely on adrenaline and Happy Hormones for those few days. I was - and am still, completely in love with her and just ecstatic that she had finally arrived. And she's beautiful and healthy and utterly perfect and all I want to do all day is cuddle her! A total pregnancy high. Better still, these Happy Hormones stopped the Stitches in Unpleasant Places from hurting, and miraculously, gave me some energy.

Unsurprisingly, this did not last, and by Friday, I had completely crashed. I felt physically horrible, everything hurt again and I just felt completely wiped out. I also couldn't control my emotions at all, started crying at the slightest thing (sometimes just because I was so happy watching Miri, or if Carl was being particularly endearing - and then at ridiculous things like Hollyoaks!) I got snappy at Carl and then cried because I felt bad about being snappy. Mum and the midwives kept enquiring as to how I felt, in case I had an attack of the Baby Blues, or the first signs of postnatal depression. I doubt it. I don't think what I am experiencing is in any way unusual; it really is just a result of exhaustion and hormones. However frustrated and tearful I get, it is never aimed at Miranda, it is not remotely regretful. More, it is just anxiety over my abilities to look after her properly.

But it does pass, and most of the time I am still completely fascinated with her. I could watch her for hours! It is hard to believe "We Made This". She is certainly my biggest achievement, the one thing I am most proud of in my life so far. Every day she does something new (and all of it ridiculously cute) - you can almost feel her sucking in information. She obviously can't do much yet - eat, poop and sleep, really. However, when she is awake (which isn't that often, to be fair), she is constantly watching, listening intently even if we are just talking rubbish to her. When she sleeps, you can see her processing it all, she practices her facial expressions in her sleep, and you can see the little brain whirring to itself. I just find it all utterly incredible. We created a real Little Person!

Dad sent me a very sweet, and very apt song, which could almost be about Miri:

Carl, for his part is equally besotted, only in some respects, more excited than me. His joy is not restricted to waves of hormones, it is seemingly constant. Also, Miranda's presence is far more New to him; I have had 9 months of being aware of her growing inside me, so I have had far more forewarning and ample opportunity to get used to the idea and mentally prepare. Carl on the other hand, does not equate Bump with Baby in such a direct manner. He keeps repeating "We have a daughter!" like he is continually surprised by her presence. He is brilliant with her already, and the way he acts around her just makes me love them both even more. She does look quite like him which makes me even happier. Carl has mentioned the idea that he would like three kids - this was admittedly whilst curled up in bed with Adorably Beautiful tiny daughter snuggled between us. Let us just say that I did not react particularly positively. I love Miranda completely, but my reaction to Carl's request is quite clearly paralleled in this song....

Nevertheless, tired as I am, I am happier than I can ever remember being and Miranda and Carl are my whole world for the moment :-D

Miranda's First Week

  Very Fat. Very Fed Up.

Hormone Rush - RELIEF! She's here!

One Eyeball...

Finally coming home from hospital

Besotted New Grandparents

Her Guatemalan sling - I may looking like the Hippy Mom but it is so much easier than a pushchair!

Still cannot get over how big her toes are...

The Burrito Wrap

Mini New Rocks!

Meeting the Auntie Jos...

Totally Unimpressed by the playmat

Biohazard nappies....

After her first bath (she hated it)

VERY proud Dad.

She's arrived!!!!

Miranda Dione, born 13/06 at 12.14pm, 7lb 2oz....

She finally arrived! And a week early!

She has seriously massive feet (like me) with really long toes, and also loads of dark hair and although everbody says this about their babies, we are convinced she is the cutest most beautiful little girl in the world!!

My labour was absolutely nightmarish though - it is not true, you do not instantly forget the pain. TWENTY EIGHT AND THREE QUARTER HOURS!!! My waters broke around 8am on Saturday 12th, and I started having contractions almost immediately. We went in to hospital, but after checking me over, they sent me home saying come back in a few hours when I was in stage 2 of labour - ie: 3-4cm dilated. By half past 4 the contractions were so painful I couldn't cope any more, so we headed back to the hospital, but I still wasn't dilated. The midwife wasn't actually very simpathetic and told me I shouldn't really have any pain relief until I was more dilated. So I got in a bath at the hospital - hot water really helped the contractions so I sat in that bath for three hours!!! I refused to get out until she'd give me some drugs!! Fortunately by 7pm I was 3cm dilated, I got set up in the labour room, and given gas and air, and a TENS machine. I didn't really get the point of them - it's a little thing that gives you mild eletric shocks in your back. You turn it on when you have a contraction, and whereas it doesn't actually stop it hurting, it does distract you. After a while I forgot I was wearing it, but then noticed as soon as I took it off!

I was only 4cm dilated by 9pm, and worse still, baby's heartrate was really really high, sometimes going over 200bmp. Doctors were worried that she was stressed, and gave me a saline drip to rehydrate me, in case that was what was stressing out Baby. It didn't seem to help, however, and they ended up having to take blood samples from the baby's head to check on her. That was absolutely excrutiating from my point of view, especially because I was so nervous and tired anyway. Fortunately all the tests came back fine.

INCREDIBLE PAIN continued all night - I eventually got on Remifentanil - the new morphine based drug which you self-administer, dosing yourself when you need it. It was absolutely WONDERFUL. Didn't actually stop you feeling pain but does stop you caring about it. I got absolutely sky high, thoroughly amused the midwife by talking utter rubbish, insisting on Carl playing Rammstein songs to me on his phone and dancing in the bed, I even started seeing things - including Nelson Mandela on a bicycle... blooming weird  but there you go. However, my labour was still not progressing very fast, and by the small hours of the morning, I was just too tired to continue, and the morphine made me throw up everywhere!!

I decided to have an epidural just so I could sleep through the contractions. They set it all up and took my beloved remifentanil away. But - the damned epidural didn't work!!! it was ridiculous, I dunno what happened, but they had to refit it and give me a second dose - in the mean time, I had about 45 minutes of contractions every 3 minutes, with no pain relief at all other than gas and air. I SCREAMED THE PLACE DOWN. Carl was completely freaked out, though I didn't do the stereotypical swearing at and blaming him for everything; as far as I remember, it was along the lines of "MAKE IT STTOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!". I honestly felt like someone was trying to saw me in half. Eventually, however, the second epidural kicked in, and I calmed down and managed to get a bit of rest.
By 10am, I was still only 7cm dilated, baby was still stressed with a high heart rate, and a consultant was called in. She said she would give me another two hours, and if I STILL wasn't fully dilated by then, they would give me a C section. I could have cried!! I sooooo didn't want a c-section, especially after suffering all that labour already. Fortunately the midwives were brilliant - like a pair of cheerleaders!! I started to get some feeling back as the epidural began to wear off, and they started encouraging me to push. By 11.15, I was 9cm dilated, and so determined, I screamed and screamed and screamed, and managed to get her out, on my own with no caesarian, no 'assistance' (ie: forceps etc) and no more drugs by 12.14!!! I did tear though, and had to have an episiotomy. I now have stitches in a place no-one should EVER have to have stitches!!!

I was soooooooo proud of myself and Carl (who had been with me the entire time) was absolutely over the moon and nearly cried. He cut the cord, and we finally got to hold our beautful little daughter. I cannot describe those emotions, it was just mindblowing. She's perfectly healthy, bright and alert, and we are all completely blissed out now!!! You don't forget the pain, you just realise it's all worth it...

Impatience driving me round the bend!

Little Cheese, where are you??

I got a voucher for money off my next purchase of Babybel cheeses through the post today. Possibly in exchange for all this free advertising I am giving the company! Little things...

Still no baby Cheese though. :-( Even my Nan phoned up last night to enquire as to the whereabouts of her latest great grandchild. Sigh. I excited the parents and a few friends on Saturday by honestly thinking my waters had broken and that it was all happening. Then I phoned labour ward, they told me I should have a lot more in the way of 'floods' rather than 'dribbles' and to stay home and wait to see if there were any more developments. And then, nothing else happened. This is extremely Not Fun.

Technically, 12 days to go. Please don't be any later than that, Cheeseling!

Could I blame my unborn child for driving test failure? Yesterday, at 38 weeks and 2 days pregnant, I took my driving test for the first time. I didn't dare tell the examiner how far along I am because I'm not sure he would have let me in the car!

I failed.

This is not unsurprising; I didn't really expect to pass. I wanted a go at the test before she arrived, just because I know it'll be a long time after she's born before I can think about things like driving lessons again. If I passed, fantastic. If I didn't, it is not the end of the world. I have other things to worry about at the moment. As it was, Cheese objected to wearing the seat belt and I had to drive whilst being booted. I was "over-hesitant" at times, accidently did 37mph in a 30 zone, and spectacularly lost 5th gear on the dual carriage way. Nothing really serious, dangerous or stupid, I didn't get any major faults, but just too many minor ones. I was actually pretty pleased with myself, considering! Never mind....

Instead, to relieve the boredom, I have been watching kids TV, to see what programs I will no doubt have to learn to endure for the next few years. I have found this utter GEM of a show, which I feel the need to share. Bring on the OOglies!!!