Life is a rollercoaster – isn’t that what Ronan Keating said in his song a few years back? That’s how I feel at the moment, the past 20 months have been mental, so much has happened. First off we had an ectopic pregnancy, closely followed by a missed miscarriage which resulted in surgery – stressful enough in themselves but that’s a story for a different day. After shelving the baby-making plans for a couple of months we found out in the new year that we were pregnant again – it was such a strange feeling, we wanted to be happy and excited, but then again, that’s how we had felt in the previous two pregnancies but they didn’t turn out well.
At 10 weeks, 25 weeks and 33 weeks I had bleeding so had trips back and forth to the hospital – each time we asked ourselves, “are we losing him?”. It was so frightening, we would just feel like we could see the finish line for someone to move it again. The uncertainty was painful but thankfully it all worked out well and we now have our gorgeous Beanie Boy.
Early in the year we sold our house and agreed a purchase on a new build, we were both very excited as it would be a new family home that was just “ours”. It wouldn’t be marked by the years of families before us, we could make our house our home! But there’s always a “but” isn’t there!! The house wouldn’t be ready until September/October time and baby was due on the 20th September 2010, that would be cutting it very fine. Our house sale was due to complete at the end of April and so we needed to move into a rented house until our new home was ready.
In May we moved into our temporary home which was in a village 6 miles from our home town. I would never have thought that this would be a problem but I soon hated living there. There were no amenities, every time I needed a pint of milk or just take Little Bean to the park I had to drive back to our home town. I used to call it “Coventry” because I felt so far removed from everyone at a time when I was feeling very hormonal – not a good combination.
Finally in September we were able to move into our new home but of course, that kind of thing is always stressful, especially when you are nearly 9 months pregnant. It was a mad rush to get unpacked and feeling like home before the new baby arrived. There were tears, arguments and some laughter, there were many many late nights trying to get straight.
And then on my due date my waters broke, labour began later that day and by the following lunchtime I was holding my beautiful baby boy in my arms.
Throughout all of this Hubby has had probably the hardest couple of years possible in the workplace, making redundancies, staff resigning, having to sell off parts of the business – everything in the world which could add to his stress. He has been very strong through it but when you add that to the big changes happening at home it’s not good. He hasn’t always been the happiest person to be around (me either with the dreaded hormones). He has been distracted and found family life hard to take at times.
But now here we are, today he is 9 weeks old and I can’t remember my life before him – strange how our children get you like that? But my hormones I think are all over the place. Its been hard adjusting to life with two little ones and to be fair I think I’ve had it pretty easy. He generally only wakes once through the night and we’ve already started to have a couple of all nighters so there is promise. Curly and Little Bean have welcomed their baby brother with open arms and, in that sense, family life has settled well. Beanie Boy is a very happy, laid back little man who doesn’t ask for much at all, unfortunately he is very very sickly, its not unheard for a change of outfits (both of us) up to four times in half an hour!!
Little Bean has always been a funny one with food, her journey to solids has been a constant battle and one which we’re still fighting. In recent weeks I have noticed a change in her, she seems permanently tired and very pale. Then one night in the wee small hours whilst feeding Beanie Boy, it dawned on me, her rubbish, limited diet means she hardly gets any iron at all. So now I’m taking her to the Doctors in the hope that they can help me with her again. She is a very determined young lady who will only do as she wants to do (and I’m no pushover) but when it comes to food, she will only eat what she wants to eat – chicken nuggets, fish fingers, turkey dinosaurs, pizza and chips – all the foods I didn’t want her to eat. She will eat yoghurt, custard and fruit purees but that’s it! Last week I bribed her to try a sausage for a pack of Milky bar Buttons but she would only try a tiny piece, but it was spat out after only a couple of chews. She is now waking at around 9pm each night asking for more milk because she is hungry. I’m at the end of my tether with her eating, I just don’t know what to do next?
And now we have a new challenge – I decided to breastfeed again (because I feel it one of the best things I can do for my child) as I did with Little Bean but its not going well. Despite initially accepting expressed milk from a bottle for a couple of weeks, Beanie Boy is now refusing the bottle altogether. For me this means, no social life without my little man coming everywhere with me. I can’t even make a trip to the cinema to see the new Harry Potter because he would need a feed whilst I was out. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that we make sacrifices for our children and I would do anything for my babies, I can’t stress enough just how much my family means to me, they ARE my life but when everything about my life is telling me I should be happy, I should be grateful for all that I have – good health, beautiful, happy, healthy children, a hardworking husband and a gorgeous new home – I feel miserable. I even feel guilty for feeling miserable, like I don’t have the right to feel this way. I try to pick myself up and dust myself off, telling me that I’m being silly but still it creeps back in. Some days are better than others, we go out walking as much as we can, we have joined a new playgroup and have another lined up in a couple of weeks time. But still I look in the mirror and wonder where I’ve gone? I have always been a very happy, positive, outgoing person but I rarely see that side of myself anymore.
Life for me is a constant stream of washing, ironing, cleaning up sick, changing dirty nappies, cleaning up more sick, food shopping, cleaning up more sick and then a bit more washing and ironing. I don’t know why I thought things would be any different but it has come as a total shock to the system. I keep asking Hubby for a washer/dryer in the hope that it will make something a little easier but who am I kidding really? Whatever happened to coveting the latest fashions, a new bag or the latest album?
Suggestions on a postcard please, how should I get myself off this rollercoaster? I’d much prefer the ladybirds!!! Do I need to give myself a slap and give myself a “sort yourself out” pep talk????