Baby girl turns 1!!

Happy Birthday Emmeline!

1 Year already!

I remember my waters breaking (well, they kind of half broke, but anyway), I remember the pain of contractions passing through me for hours, I remember the sweet relief of the epidural, I remember the strangling motion the nurse made when she told the doctor that I had a prolapsed umbilical cord (cord coming out first and baby therefore possibly stopping the flow of oxygen). I remember being wheeled through hospital half naked with a strange women on top of me with half her arm inside of me to stop Emmeline coming any further down, and I remember the speed at which the many doctors in the surgery worked at getting tubes taken out and put in, and I remember being completely knocked out by medication not knowing the fate of my baby.

I remember waking up, feeling semi zonked due to pain medication and exhaustion and Xavi smiling at me asking if I wanted to meet someone. I remember the nurse bringing Emmeline over and putting her in my arms and positioning her to breastfeed. I was lying down and all I could think was "God, I hope she doesn't suffocate on my boob, she is lying face down". Those few days in hospital were a dream for me. We were in a perfect little bubble.

But the days flew by and they haven't stopped flying since then. I have watched her grown from a tiny little raisin into a destructive little angel! I have seen her going from this little thing that was totally immobile and confined to a life of laying on her back only being able to see 30cm in front of her face to being a mini person taking her first tentative steps and hitting mickey mouse for being in the TV. I have watched her grow and learn how to sit, how to roll, how to crawl and how to walk (almost). I have watched her learn to smile, to grin, to giggle, to laugh and to do funny things to you to make everyone laugh. I have watched her change from being fairly blase about who she was with to showing clear signs of joy when she sees us, to crawl up to us and hug our legs, to hold us and kiss us. I have also seen her throw her bowl on the floor in irritation, wriggle out of our arms in frustration and become far too independent and stubborn insisting on doing things herself!

I have watched the light of my life grow so much in one year and it scares the crap out of me. I seem to have this thing in my head that after one, everything goes by really quickly. I feel panicky sometimes and think it is all going to rush by now, like I am going to miss special moments, that as each year passes, it will be another year of her becoming more independent . . . from me! I know this is stupid and unreasonable, but I cant help it. There are still days when I cant believe that she is ours and that we get to keep her. No one is going to come and get her, she doesn't have to go. She gets to stay with us. I want to enjoy every minute I can with her and there are still many days that when she is in bed for the evening, I miss her.

I never believed anyone when they said the love you feel for your child is unlike any other, and now I know that I could never even try to explain it to someone. She is an angel, a light, a joy, a happpiness. I want to spend every moment I can with her and enjoy all the years that are still to come, waiting with baited breath for all the changes that are also coming, good and bad!

Emmeline, Happy Birthday, mommy loves you very much.
xxxxx

Flying with a baby

The last time I flew I was 5 months pregnant. All I had to think of back then was being careful of my bump and looking after myself. The time before that was with Xavi on a little trip to UK to go and get the restof my stuff to bring to Barcelona. All I had to think about that time was organising my crap as quick as possible so that we would have time free to do some sightseeing, have a few drinks, dinners out and have fun.

This time I flew with my little 8 month baby girl. There was a whole lot more to think of and very little of it was about me! It was all about her. Packing was an arse ache but I did it! Getting to the airport was made super easy as my dad gave us a lift there. I would really prefer to not think of how difficult the journey on the trains to the airport would have been with a baby in a sling, a backpack, shoulder bag and wheelie giant suitcase all alone!

Anyway, so my dad took us there, and helped me in with my bags. He took care of Emmeline while I got us checked in and then we stopped for a coffee where once again he took care of Emmeline while I went to the toilet etc. So far everything was going swimmingly! We then found ourselves at security. I had a backpack filled with liquids, all Emmeline’s! 1 bottle of her water (125ml), 1 bottle of milk (125ml), another bottle of milk (240ml), her Apiritol (baby paracetamol) and then my lip cream. Ordinarily all this should be in a clear plastic bag, divided into 100ml bottles blah blah blah blah! I didn’t bother doing any of this because I knew that Barcelona was a lot more relaxed, realistic and practical than other places. And as I thought, when the security man sitting at his little x-ray table saw my bag go through, he raised his head lazily and looked over. I pointed to Emmeline and raised my eyebrows as if to ask if it was a problem? He shook his head and motioned all in one go that it wasn’t a problem and that I could go through! Fantastic! What was not so fantastic is that even with a baby strapped to my chest, they still made me pull off my boots so they could check them. I gave them an incredulous look of ‘really? Seriously? Baby strapped to my chest so this is kind of awkward!’ My look had no effect whatsoever and so I dutifully removed my shoes. The problem was that on the other side my slip on shoes that slid on so easily at home seemed to get stuck! So there I was in front of a row of 5 bemused looking security guards bending over trying to put my shoes on with Emmeline looking like she was going to slip out of the sling at any minute! I hid my embarrassment by looking down and starting a deep conversation with Emmeline whilst doing what I should have done in the first place – walk over to the chair and sit down to put on my shoes!

Once I had successfully put my shoes back on, we had to walk a million miles to get to the check in gate. There was a queue already! Poo! I flashed my baby at the Ryan smelly bum Air check in ladies hoping that one of them would say ‘ooh, I see you are travelling alone with a small baby strapped to your chest! Would you like to board before the rest of the people in order to get yourself and your baby organised without being in anyone else’s way’. They didn’t! They simply took my ticket and moved on. Crap, I was at the end of the queue. Poo! Thankfully the flight was not totally full and we managed to get a seat towards the back and by the window. The air steward gave me the baby seat belt as we got into the plane and told me to ask if I need help. Help? How hard could it be? It was for me! But thankfully I had a helpful lady sitting in the same row as me who helped me to put on this little contraption around Emmeline! She very nicely left the middle seat empty allowing me to use that seat to leave Emmeline’s many things on it. She spoke to me for a few minutes whilst we were waiting to take off, she slept the whole journey, and then she stayed with me until almost everyone had gotten off the plane to see if I needed help with my bags! The perfect person to have next to you! I declined her offer of help and loaded myself up with bags and baby and was the last person off the plane! Although being the last person off the plane and into the bus somehow meant that I was the first one off at the other side and one of the first ones to get through the doors of arrivals!

Then came the return journey. Security at Edinburgh was quite different to security at Barcelona. At both airports I had 3 bottles for Emmeline in my bag - 2 with milk and 1 with water. I also had her medicine and lip cream. At Barcelona I left everything in my backpack all organised for the flight and had no problems at all. However at Edinburgh it was a different story. There I was with the same 3 bottles all in a plastic bag in my hand along with her medicine and my lip cream. I had to put the plastic bag through separately. I knew that they would be a bit more anal about everything! Once again I had to remove my shoes despite looking at the lady with a look of ‘Are you serious?’ Especially as I had seen that not everyone had been taking off their shoes! So why me? Why the lady with the baby still strapped to her chest? Once again I imagine that the fuchsia baby sling must have terrorist written all over it . . .

The bottles went through and I saw the lady rewind the conveyer belt to have another look and quickly look up. I wondered if her heart had started to beat a little quicker when she saw so many uncontrolled liquids. Did her pulse quicken? Was she thinking ‘ooh, we might have a situation here? A highlight of my day! I will have a great story to tell at the dinner table tonight’ I motioned to her that they were mine and that I first needed to put back on my terrorist looking shoes and then I would be over. I came over and said they were for Emmeline. I had already prepared myself for a fight in case they said anything about me not being able to take the bottles on. But no, no fight, instead she simply made me drink a little bit from each bottle. Ridiculous. Firstly, do I look like a suicide bomber? Perhaps the tiny baby would indicate that I am not? Secondly, if I was on a suicide mission, the ENTIRE world now knows that airports test liquid. Even tiny villages in the middle of Africa are probably aware of this fact. So, I would have to be a pretty stupid terrorist to try get through security with my little liquid explosions and if I decided to give this a go anyway, surely I could just as easily divide my liquid explosions into several 100ml shampoo bottles? Anyway, a bic pen can be equally dangerous in the wrong hands, so chill the hell out with the liquid obsessions for god’s sake! Ridiculous!

By the time this whole thing was finished and I had to walk another million miles through this airport boarding had started on my flight. Again I tried to flash my baby at smelly bum check in ladies and again this failed miserably. Should have flown sleazy jet, even though they steal from you at least they let you board first! In the end I was one of the last people to get on the plane. And it was a full flight! I found a seat but I could not sit down because I had my backpack under the seat in front of me and there was no space for my other bag because all the other stupid passengers had taken up all the space with all their stupid hard suitcases! So I tried to find a stewardess who of course was nowhere to be seen! And they hadn’t given me the seatbelt for Emmeline. I was boiling and ready for a fight. Not normal in me. So I held up everyone if my attempt to flag down someone. Eventually I did and told her that I needed help as my bag wouldn’t fit in the overhead locker. She very ‘helpfully’ told me to put it under my seat. Yes you total waste of space, I am aware that is an option, however I already have a bag there! So she put my bag on the other end of the plane. Hmm, thanks, now it will be so much fun to try and find my bag when we are in Barcelona! I looked down and the Spanish man sitting there had this look on his face of ‘oh great, I get stuck next to the lady and the baby’. He looked like he was trying to find a way to escape, but alas, there was none! I still had no baby seatbelt and was starting to get pissy. The stewardess´s took their time about giving it to me, and all appeared to have been sucking on lemons before we all boarded. A Scottish girl then sat next to me and although she was very nice, this did mean that I was crammed the entire flight in the smallest chair in the world with a baby on my lap who spent the first hour trying to grab everything of the Scottish girl she possibly could and kicking the Spanish man at every opportunity. Eventually Emmeline fell asleep and I spent the rest of the flight dying from thirst and hunger, supremely uncomfortable holding up my sleeping baby whilst my eyes were getting heavier and heavier and unable to do anything to relieve neither my thirst, hunger or uncomfortableness due to the sleeping baby on top of me, the fact that my bag was totally unreachable due to the fact that the seats in airplanes are not so small I feel like I am in a chicken coop and even if I had managed to get money, I would have to sell a kidney just to be able to afford to buy anything on their menu.

Even though Emmeline is a pretty chilled out baby who doesn’t cry much, flying with a baby is not easy! No one thinks to let you board first. It is not because I think we should get special treatment, but it is in everyone´s interest to let people with kids get on first. There are things to organise! I had to make sure that I had her bottle, I had her dummy, I had a little toy, that she was strapped in, that she wasn’t too warm or cold. It is not as easy as others who simply walk on, switch on their mp3 and switch off their mobile. If we are able to board first, we can choose the seats at the back out of the way or the seats with slightly more leg room so that the huge amount of stuff we need can be with us and not in the overhead lockers where we need to keep getting things. Letting us on first keeps us out of everyone else way, because I know that a lot of the other passengers don't have the patience for us. I used to be one of them! Boy did karma come back and bite me on the arse for that! I know how some people looked at me thinking 'oh no, screaming baby the whole flight!' The stewardess´s didn’t ask if I needed help with anything not even one single time. I remember a time when their job was to help, not to just stand there trying to sell overpriced water and fecking lottery tickets. They actually made my flight worse, not better. It never used to be like that. There were apparently baby changing facilities in the toilets. Thank god I didn’t have to use them! Just the thought of trying to squeeze out of the chairs with Emmeline in my arms sent shudders of fear through my spine, let alone thinking about the rest. It was stressful, but we made it! I would obviously do it again, but this time I would definitely pay the extra and get priority boarding! Just another thing that Ryan smelly bum air makes you pay for, a service that should really be free. I remember when it used to be free, travelling used to be a lot more enjoyable back then!

Happy New Years

I am not a huge fan of New Years Eve to be honest. I have tried to be, but now I am just over it! There is far too much hype about what to do and where to go and what to wear. Then there is the whole crap fest about every bar and restaurant suddenly doubling their prices just so that you can get in the front door when ordinarily you wouldn’t generally be seen dead in the place, then there are the drinks prices. If you have managed to get past all of this and you have done yourself up, paid the equivalent of a month’s rent in the entrance fee and drinks and partied the night away, you then have the total arse ache of trying to get home. Smelly night bus? Crammed metro if it is still running? Ridiculously priced taxi? Go home, momentarily share our story about your evening to your friends and family and then promptly forget all about it until you do it all over again next year? If you don’t do anything, you end up feeling totally boring and you feel embarrassed as well. It sucks royally. I remember all the hoo ha for the new years for 2000, how many people actually remember what they did? I don’t.  I think everyone should just relax about it already!

Last year I was pregnant at New Years Eve, so it was a quiet one, maybe more than I expected! Xavi and I were down in the house in Valls and we decided to go and find a little bar and celebrate the New Year together. So off we got in the car (obviously me not drinking took care of the transport issue quite nicely) and off we headed to Tarragona. We headed to the marina area where there were some bars. In Spain, everyone celebrates the 12 chimes of midnight by eating one grape at each chime of the gong, so we very efficiently made sure that we each had our own little tin of deseeded and peeled grapes - very important when you are trying to shove 12 grapes in your mouth, helps with the not chewing and just swallowing aspect. However almost every bar was closed. Another thing in Spain is that they celebrate New Year’s the other way around. Up until midnight it is a time for everyone to be inside with family having dinner etc. to bring in the new years, and then everybody leaves home to go and party until the next day. Or the day after that depending on the party! So yes, we found ourselves in a pickle, most bars were closed. We did manage to find one open . . . it appeared to be a mix of a kebab takeaway place and a bar with the interior furnishing resembling a beachside holiday home. Weird. We were the only people there, xavi with his whisky, me with my alcohol free beer, us whispering as we were alone and talking felt like we were shouting! A drunken group stumbled in, gave us hugs and handshakes, mumbled something and thankfully left rather quickly! Midnight approached rather rapidly and so we go out some napkins, drained our grapes, laid them out on the napkins and ate our grapes according to the chimes on the TV inside the beachside kebab bar place. All alone and feeling like total idiots whilst the foreign bar staff looked at us like we were total losers. I didn’t have a pregnancy bump, so I couldn’t even point to that to say “look we are not total freaks, we are just slightly limited in our plans!” But we didn’t care too much. We were thrilled because that was going to be the year that we had our baby, which was all that mattered.

This year we had our little girl. We would also have Yaincoa with us this year and having children suddenly changes the whole ballgame doesn’t it? We couldn’t really go anywhere as Emmeline is still young and has her bedtime quite early. I cannot drag my little 5 month old around town with me trying to get her to sleep in some corner or some bedroom somewhere! So we decided to stay in the flat. We thought about inviting some friends of ours or one of Yaincoa’s friends to make it a little more interesting for him, however everyone else already had plans and it appeared that there were a few other couples out there having a quiet evening like us. My parents decided to have a quiet one on their boat, so it would just be the 4 of us this year. We decided to send Emmeline to bed a little later than usual so that the house could be louder for a little longer. We set up the Scalextric so that xavi and Yain could play and we decided to have pizza for dinner, an exception in our house! We all chilled out on the sofa together, ate our pizzas, watched the new years programmes with an increasingly tired 8 year old at our side nagging us that the TV we were watching was boring, he wanted to watch a 3 hour 1 star movie on some other channel! We outvoted him! Along came new years and with it a sneaky glass of Cava and our 12 grapes! We all hugged and kissed and xavi and I both agreed that it had been a good year, a year that bought us our little angel Emmeline, and a good year for us. We were exhausted, so about 15 minutes later we were all wrapped up in bed!

I feel grateful for what I have, I feel thankful for who I have, I feel content with the year I have had, and I feel hopeful for the year to come.

New Year’s resolutions? I don’t really make them, but ok then, what do I want for this year?

To sleep more

To lose my pregnancy arse, tummy, hips and everything else

To try to be a good mommy to my girl, always giving her the time and attention and love that she deserves

To try to be a good girlfriend, daughter, sister, friend etc

To get this blog up and running and stick with it

To be more creative

To find a way of bringing in some cash without having to hand out flyers on street corners

To finish studying graphic design

To study more, maybe web design or photography

To make a real effort to wax my legs and underarms more frequently and generally try to be more feminine.

So to all of you, Happy New Year!

Shopping Heaving

OH MY GOD!

I think I may just pass out from sheer giddiness. I have just located Zara Kids Online Home Shopping! I am now a very happy mommy! Ridiculous really, but I can't help it. Now don't get me wrong, I am not one of these dippy doo lally mothers who buy labels for their children’s and dress them head to toe in designer, nor am I a dippy doo dally who goes on massive shopping sprees every other day so my little girl has a wardrobe triple the size of mine, but it is fun buying for her, In fact, I actually seem to enjoy shopping for her more than me, might have something to do with the 10kgs I am STILL trying to lose that makes shopping for me a little poo. Generally I live in H&M, I but almost all my clothing, Emmeline's clothing and presents in there. I also tend to buy little bodies from supermarkets as they go for about 1euro or 1.50 each, and I don’t see the point in spending a lot on something that Emmeline is simply going to wee on, poo on, vomit on, and grow out of in 3 nanoseconds. However I have recently discovered Zara Kids as there is a shop located close to the flat. Oh my, what pretty things they have in there! I don’t buy too much, but yes a few pretty little pieces for Emmeline, and I make sure that I buy it quite a few sizes too big so that she will grow into them as opposed to growing out of them!

If I could, I would but much, much more in Zara! Here are some of the things I want...

I already have this one in white, but it is so comfy!

 

Makes me wish that all this stuff came in size mommy!

The Vaccinations .....

Getting Emmeline’s vaccinations have felt as though I am starring in Dumb and Dumber or candid camera or something like that! It has all been rather incredible!

It all began with her 1 month vaccinations. She was scheduled to have them on Monday 20 September. Just thinking about it made me nervous for her. My poor little girl getting stuck with needles for the first time in her life while the nurse uttered th most ridiculous lie ever “you will just feel a little pinch”! It is never a little pinch, it is pain, and they are stabbing you with a needle for god’s sakes! However a few days before she was due to go in, she caught a cold from me, her first one! I felt awful for her as there was nothing I could do to make it better. Knowing that I was then going to be taking her down to the doctors where they were going to give her the vaccinations and make her feel worse just broke my heart! By Monday, she was definitely sick, I didn’t know if they could still vaccinate her or not, so we went down anyway. Let me explain that my doctors are not close by. We have to take a 20 minute metro ride and a 10 minute walk to get there. I could change to a doctor’s surgery that is closer, but I know the ladies down there as I have been going for 5 years. The paediatrician is the same paediatrician for yaincoa, and they always treat us well. So we schlep down there every time we need to go. Anyway, off we go on Monday. The paediatrician asks us how we are and I explain that Emmeline appears to be sick. She agrees and we decide to not give her the vaccinations. She didn’t have a fever or anything, but we just thought it would be kinder to wait a week until Emmeline was over her cold and not make her feel worse now. So off we went and I took my sick little angel home heaving a sigh of relief that we didn’t have to face the dreaded needle today!

The following Monday rolled by and my little girl was all better. So off we trundle to get the metro followed by the walk to the surgery. At first we wait outside the paediatrician’s office, but I notice that no one seems to be calling us and it is now about 15 minutes past our appointment. I cautiously knock on the door (they hate when you do that and actually have signs on the doors to say that if they door is closed, don’t knock, they are busy. No one really seems to pay attention!) I go in asking the paediatrician if we will be called soon. She asks what it is for, and then tells me that I actually have to go to where the nurses are so that they can administer the vaccination. Crap! Now we are late and it is lunchtime. Please don't say they have all left! We race over and I explain the situation to the nurses. She tells us to have seat and they will start to organise the necessary in order to give Emmeline her shots. We sit, we wait. Emmeline starts to cry. I think that she can feel my nerves and it is rubbing off on her. I have butterflies in my tummy and I cannot sit still.  After a 10 minute wait the nurse comes out and tells us that unfortunately they are unable to administer her vaccinations today due to the fact that ..... They have none in stock!!!

SERIOUSLY?

"Mommy, why is that lady coming near me with a needle in her hand?"

Why is it that no one had the sense to check the vaccinations that morning, and then check the list of people due to get vaccinated, and then they could have seen that they were short. They could have either ordered more, or better yet, they could have phoned me to tell me to not bother to drag my daughter and myself out of the house and waste our time! But of course, I can’t say that to them, I hate confrontation and I always think that it is best to stay on the good side of everyone in your doctor’s surgery! They reschedule us for the following Monday, I nod, I pile my child back into the Baby Bjorn and off we trundle back to the smelly metro and back home having successfully wasted about 2 hrs of our tie that we will never ever be able to get back.

So the following Monday arrives and we do the whole thing again. I head straight over to the nurses area and prepare myself for another problem, who knows, random robbery of all vaccinations? We wait. A nurse comes out and asks why we are there, so I hand over my little paper with the details of the vaccination and today’s date being the latest on a list of scribbled out dates from previous weeks. She looks confused and mutters something like ‘no, I don’t think .....’ I didn’t catch the rest because I interrupted and little too sternly explaining that yes, we were getting vaccinations today. She told us to have a seat and off she skedaddled. My patience started to rapidly disappear when 25 minutes later we were still waiting and I had just seen the same nurse come back with my little piece of paper in her hand avoiding looking at me. No, no, no! This had better not happen again! Eventually she called us in; it was going to happen, finally! Emmeline was sleeping, so I had to wake her up and pull down her pants and hold onto her legs strongly so she didn’t move them. In went the first shot, I wasn’t holding strong enough and her leg moved hurting her even more! The nurse went to the other side and told me to hold stronger. Emmeline was wailing in my arms and I was getting a lump in my throat. In went the second shot. A few more seconds of wailing, then a yelp or two, then silence, and then she went back to sleep! The nurse was super unhelpful and just went ‘Esta’ basically meaning ‘that’s it’ and she left! Wow, you really excelled at the how to treat people part of your nurse raining didn’t you? Cow.

Along came 4 months. Time for more vaccinations.

The paediatrician Marta had previously explained to me that we could get an optional extra private vaccination for Emmeline that was for flu and gastro or something like that. I agree that would get it. She tells me that as it is private “tienes que pagar” meaning you have to pay. No problem I think, I will bring cash with me next time to pay for it. This vaccination is scheduled for 27 October. I trundle down and prepare myself to be relaxed so that Emmeline doesn’t feel my nerves. We wait for 15 minutes and in we go. It is the other paediatrician, Lada. I am talking to her whilst I get Emmeline out of the Baby Bjorn and onto the table. Lada asks me if I have the vaccination. I go over and get out my vaccination papers to give to her. ‘No cariño, la vacuna’, no darling, the vaccination. I look at her blankly and feel my heart fall into my shoes. I explain that Marta told me I had to pay for it. Lada shakes her head and informs me that what Marta meant is that I actually have to buy the bloody stupid thing from the pharmacist.

SERIOUSLY?

In Spanish, ‘pagar’ is pay, ‘comprar’ is buy. Apparently even though Marta said pagar, that actually meant I have to buy it. I shake my head, put Emmeline back in the Baby Bjorn and get my new appointment. We have to wait a few weeks so that we can do the private vaccination and the standard one at the same time. Rescheduled for 22 November. We leave gobsmacked.

22 November sees us back in the doctors surgery all prepared. I had bought the vaccinations from our local pharmacy a few days earlier and had placed in directly in the baby bag so I wouldn’t forget it. In we go, baby out of Baby Bjorn and back on the table. Lada asks me if I bought it today. No, a few days ago. She asks me if I stored it in the fridge. I stop, Emmeline half out of her jacket, slowly turn around and simply say “what?” apparently the vaccination has to be stored in the fridge.

SERIOUSLY???

NO ONE TOLD ME THAT. I look around the room thinking ‘is there a camera in here’. Nope. Why, why, why? I slowly dress my child. I spent 60euros on that vaccination that was now useless. Lada rescheduled and suggested that I try to get the pharmacy to change that vaccination. I feel like someone is having a joke at my expense. I go to the pharmacist and explain my problem. She feels really bad as she tells me there is nothing that they can do. I have to walk out quickly as I feel the tears coming. I cannot afford to spend another 60 Euros on another vaccination! I go home and explain it to xavi whilst the tears fall down my cheeks onto my sleeping child’s head. Xavi takes the box, heads down to the pharmacy, comes back telling me that yes, they will change it. They felt really bad about it all as well.

The following week and I am in the doctors room with my daughter lying on the table, her pants pulled down to expose her chubby little legs – perfect for stabbing the 2 little needles filled with vaccinations!! Lada tells me to hold her hands against her chest, I do and I lovingly look into my daughters eyes talking to her calmly trying to distract her. The first needle goes in. Emmeline's eyes open wide. She looks into my eyes and silently asks ’what happened mommy? That hurt! Why? I trusted you’ and then she starts to cry. I calm her and a few seconds later we do it again in her other leg. She cries for a few seconds and then starts to laugh at Lada. We walk out all vaccinated at last, but I still find myself looking around for a camera as I cannot believe what we have been through just to get here!

I am left wondering what could possibly happen at the 6 months vaccinations????

Curse of the Cold

Oh my poor little angel is sick! Again! This is the second time that she has been sick since she was born, and I feel so bad for her, and I feel really guilty because once again, it was me who gave her the cold. Surely though this gives me the right to feel angry at those who gave me the cold that I then passed on to my daughter? I don’t know why, but it would appear that since giving birth I have zero immune system. Someone as much as sniffles in my house and I get knocked down for a whole week with a stupid cold. And yes, I do have a healthy diet! I can try to blame those in my house: Xavi for working too hard, not sleeping enough, and not eating properly therefore getting run down and sick. Or I could blame Yaincoa, but he can only take a small portion of the blame as he is 8 years old, therefore I will have to pass the rest of his blame onto his mother. Yaincoa has chronic bronchitis and asthma, his mom doesn't quite take care of him as well of a normal person would and so due to this reason and just being a kid, he spends most of winter sick. What this means is that they get sick, I get even sicker, little Emmeline gets sick as well.

Having read p on colds in Wikipedia, I have come to the conclusion that I am screwed! This is what they say:

“There is currently no known treatment that shortens the duration; however, symptoms usually resolve spontaneously in 7 to 10 days, with some symptoms possibly lasting for up to three weeks“  – So no treatment, I will just have to tough it out

“The common cold is the most frequent infectious disease in humans with on average two to four infections a year in adults and up to 6–12 in children” – I must be getting the whole families share as I have had 3 colds in 4 months!

“A history of smoking extends the duration of illness by about three days” – I used to smoke but gave up when I found out I was pregnant

“Getting fewer than seven hours of sleep per night has been associated with a risk three times higher of developing an infection when exposed to a rhinovirus, compared to those who sleep more than eight hours per night” – HA, please see my post of sleep deprivation! 4 month old baby and seven hours of sleep? If only...

“The best prevention is staying away from people who are infected” – Kind of hard when the infected people are your boyfriend and his son, don’t think they would feel so great if I told them to get out of the flat for 7 – 10 days!

“Colds are primarily transmitted through breathing in tiny particles that the infected person emits when he or she coughs, sneezes, or exhales” – So we should all just stop breathing then?

I was sick last week and it really did make looking after Emmeline by myself hard! I had no energy and I ached all over. She was being very fussy about eating and she just wouldn’t sleep by herself and I just wanted to lie in bed all day. I couldn’t, so I had to tap my resources and get on with it taking whatever medicine the pharmacist had Ok’d to a breastfeeding mother, drink lots of orange juice and have lots of steam baths of eucalyptus! I eventually started to feel better by Saturday, but on Saturday I then noticed that Emmeline was not behaving like herself. She seemed out of sorts, and was crying a bit more than usual. She was also all tired and lethargic. By Sunday she had a snotty nose and a chesty cough. My heart absolutely broke into a million pieces. I could see that she was feeling like crap, but the little gem still managed to give me several priceless smiles and giggles! I tried to carry on with our normal daily routines, but I could see that this would not work. Every time that I tried to put her down or down to sleep by herself, she started to cry, in the end I had her in my arms or the baby Bjorn all day. It worked out nicely for me as I love having her in my arms, and if that was what I could do to make her feel better, then I would do it happily! So there we were, sick mommy, sick baby and daddy working all day. I chose the only option that I could think of: medicine, pyjamas all day and Greys Anatomy.  A few of the nights I put her in her crib, and in the end I had to bring her into bed with me and slept hugging her all night long. I know many people don’t agree with co-sleeping, but I did it for the first 2 months of her life with no problems, so for me it was fine to bring Emmeline into bed and soothe and comfort her.

She is finally over her cold, and is starting to feel herself again, although not completely. However what the poor little thing doesn’t know is that tomorrow we have her 4 month vaccinations......

Sleep deprivation

Sleep deprivation - a sufficient lack of restorative sleep over a cumulative period so as to cause physical or psychiatric symptoms and affect routine performances of tasks.



Emmeline clearly does not suffer sleep deprivation



That is how the dictionary describes it. This is now my life. I had to look it up to check if it could explain how I feel some days, and it comes close, but may days, the word ‘tired’ doesn’t seem sufficient. It seems such a weak word to describe something so big!

I have a new born baby whom I am breastfeeding. Of course I am sleep deprived.  However, I sometimes feel weird saying this to people. Why? Because they all just give you that superficial ‘oh shame’ look and nod their heads swiftly moving on with the conversation. They just don’t seem to believe me!

I think that generally people fall into 3 categories.

• Those that cannot even begin to imagine the sleep deprivation that you are feeling as they have never experienced anything similar.
• Those that think you are just exaggerating “oh, all mothers say that. Ha ha ha”.
• Those that think you should just accept it and get on with things. ‘You had a baby, what did you expect?’

Maybe I am totally wrong, but it is how I feel, I feel guilty to tell people how crap I actually feel some days due to lack of sleep because they probably think I am just exaggerating. I AM NOT. Take your worst ‘ooh I am so shattered’ day and multiply it by around 50. EVERY DAY. ALL DAY. ALL NIGHT!

My baby girl Emmeline is now more than 4 months old. However my lack of sleep began way before she was born. It began when I fell pregnant. Back then it was due to a large number of reasons such as the need to go to the toilet 5 times a night, the increase in body temperature, the increase in the size of my tummy meaning that I could only sleep on my side (not so comfortable for me), the hunger pains, and again the need to go to the toilet 5 times a night. But my sleep deprivation took a drastic increase with the arrival of my little girl.

I am breastfeeding her which means that I cannot share night time feeds with my partner. He would love to help, but he is lacking in essential equipment! Anyway, I don’t see the point in Xavi waking up to ‘give me the baby’ and share my hell. What is the point? Seriously? So that we can both just be exhausted the next day but at least we get to say ‘Oh yeah, Xavi wakes up and helps’. Why? To show how he shares responsibility? He does a lot for Emmeline during the day so dont need him to show me anything during the evenings. Yes, I could express milk and he could bottle feed her, but I would much rather prefer that he gets a good night sleep so that he can be fine at work (he wakes up very early and he has a physical job). Plus, I really need him to be in a good mood, because depending on how tired I am , I may not be so rosy, and I need him to not only support me, I need him to put up with me and my irritability. Anyway, Emmeline sleeps right next to me, so I would wake up even if xavi did the feedings. Our close proximity does mean that I am aware of her every move and her every sound. She whimpers and I wake up. She strains to go to the toilet making noises and kicking and tensing her legs, I am right there with my eyes open cheering her on to get that poo out. My little one eats a lot. No more than other babies I am sure, but a lot anyway, so she whimpers for boob a lot as well.. I am very happy to be able to satisfy her appetite, and I will wake up as many times as I need to for her. I will do what she needs. . .

But my god I am tired!

I think that before I had Emmeline I must have thought that all mothers just said that they were tired, but really that they could not have been quite so tired. Boy has karma kicked me in the arse for that thought. I could never have imagined how I would feel, so I guess I just never really believed or appreciated other mother’s pain. From the beginning, Emmeline has always woken up a lot. So many nights it feels like my head has just hit the pillow and I have to get up again for her. For a long time, until past 3 months old, she was waking every 2 or 3 hours. Some nights she could do 4 hours, some nights we would wake up exactly every hour. You may think to yourself ‘Well, 3 straight hours of sleep isn’t bad’. Oh no my friend, it is not 3 hrs. You see, when we say she woke every 2 hrs, it is actually 2 hrs between the time she started her last feeding and the time she starts her next one. What generally happens is something like this: 02:00am baby wakes, stumble out of bed, groggily attach baby to boob, play endless rounds of free trial Tetris games on my mobile to not fall asleep on baby, burp baby, optional poo to then change, attempt to attach baby to other boob, watch Xavi turning over taking all my blankets with him, huff and puff irritably no avail, look down and see baby is fast asleep, put baby back in crib, go to toilet, suddenly feel hungry so quietly grab a biscuit from the biscuit tin, go back to bed, climb into bed noting that it is 02:30 ish. Attempt to fall asleep. Great, get to do it all again at 04:00am. Not pretty. There are times that I do have to hold my head in my hands and just go ‘Oh Emmeline, really?’ when I have to get up regularly during the nights. And the minute I have had this slight moment of impatience, I feel bad and guilty even though I know I haven’t done anything wrong. I would hear of other people’s baby’s sleeping 8, 10 or even 12 hrs and would wonder why I did to piss Mother Nature off so badly that she gave me a baby allergic to sleep. Was I doing something wrong? The one time that Emmeline slept for 6 hours, I bounded out of bed like a bloody panther to make sure she was still breathing!

When you are deprived of sleep on such a constant basis, you are no longer tired. You are so much more. It is not just that your eyes have that burning sensation that is normally the result of a night out and too few hours sleep. Your body feels tired, your brain feels slow, you can hardly think straight, you can’t really follow conversations at a normal rate. Then there are your emotions, they are stretched to the limit. I get irritated when I haven’t slept enough, irritated and generally feel on the verge of crying. Then I get irritated about being so ready to cry. I lose my patience and my temper with those around me. I just generally tend to have no time for anyone. I feel like half a person. The other half left me to go and get some shut eye somewhere.

I am optimistic that there is light at the end of my sleep deprived tunnel, and almost every night I go to bed I think “is this the night she sleeps for 6, 7, or 8 hours straight?” I am always hopeful that yes it is. I am still waiting. I told myself it will get better when she is 4 and a half months, or when she is 5 months, or when she is on solids. I motivate myself thinking well I have done it for this long, I can keep going.

Then some bitch on the internet stated that this will continue into the first year!

Someone please tell me that she is totally wrong!!!!!!!

Morphing into a Stay at Home Mom

I realised this week that I am a stay at home mom.... something I never wanted to be!



Image taken from www.fabulously40.com



The idea I used to have in my head of a stay at home mom was someone who only ever wears tights and a big baggy t shirt and just cleans and irons stuff. It wasn’t a pleasant image and I now realise that it was not a fair one either. I realise now that I had stereotypes SAHM’s as ladies who didn’t really do that much except for a bit of cooking and cleaning whilst running behind their children to clean their snotty noses. Where did I get this image from? I can’t really say. Perhaps shows like Roseanne, Married with children or the Simpsons didn’t really help! Nor did the general idea that being a stay at home mom was a luxury and that these ladies did very little. People frown upon SAHM's

I suppose that I always had an idea that I would successful working mom and whilst I knew that I wanted a baby or two, I didn’t really think about the being at home with them part or how that would all work out!

Before I got pregnant, I was working. In August last year I said goodbye to that job and it was in November that I peed on a stick and saw two very distinct lines that said “Oh shit, everything is going to change”! Of course I was then in the dilemma of being pregnant and thinking about looking for a job. Problem is who is really going to offer you a contract when in a few months you will be taking leave for a minimum of 4 months to have a baby and thereafter your reliability may not be what it once was. Add that to the fact that being in a foreign country and not speaking the language fluent enough for an office job does somewhat limit your possibilities. Sales has never interested me, I would rather go and paint my face and pretend to be a tree on La Rambla for money than phone some poor unsuspecting tool trying to sell underwater hairdryers. That left job offers of working for Oxfam (commission based) standing in the street trying to get donations, handing out leaflets to tourists, late night work handing out discount drinks flyers in front of bars, or being a pub crawl party guide. Interesting as those were, I had a feeling that a rapidly growing baby bump may cast a doubt over my meeting the ‘party girl’ request in the job offer. Thankfully xavi being the hero that he is told me not to worry and that he was earning enough to support us and that I should just rest and prepare for the baby. Oh ok then! I was (and still am) studying a graphic design course, and I did my best to continue with that, but I suddenly found myself with a first class addiction to pregnancy forum web sites and to anything else pregnancy related. I couldn’t go a day without finding out how my ladies on the ‘I Am Pregnant’ forum were feeling. I was busy every day, but I cannot for the life of me remember what I was doing! But I did not feel like a SAHM at any point. Perhaps because I was not a mom. Being a ‘step mom’ type person to Yaincoa didn’t count.

Then little Miss Muppet came along and my life got thrown upside down. I was super busy and engrossed with her and it all went by in a blur. I was at home, but I still did not feel like a SAHM. In September, my sister came over to visit. She was pregnant and asked ‘What do you do all day?’ it was an innocent question but I imagined many people asking the same and thinking ‘great life, all she has to do is look after the baby, clean a little and that is it’. I tried to explain what I did in a day and that actually it was a helluva lot, but I wasn’t too convinced that anyone believed me.

Then last week after spending the ENTIRE day trying to clean the house (everything takes ten times longer when you have a baby as you have to do everything around them), and the following day doing washing and cooking etc, it suddenly hit me. I had morphed into a SAHM without even realising it. I felt a bit squeamish about this. Somehow the image I had in my head of being a creative mom who was staying at home with her bundle of joy and being surrounded by handmade creations that we had made didn’t seem to fit in with the person who had just spent 2 days cleaning and washing. Whilst wearing black comfy pants and a big jersey. I have also been labelled a feminist in the past, so the cooking and cleaning wasn’t sitting so well with me. I sat down at had a talk with myself about all of this. So I am doing the cooking and cleaning. Well that is simply because Xavi is waking up at 6 am to go and work and is working as hard as he can to allow me to stay at home with our little one, so in exchange I maintain the household. I am a mom and I am staying at home. We come in all shapes and sizes, some do more, some do less, and we are not overweight tights wearing freaks. We are ladies lucky enough to be able to spend even more time with our children and experience every moment with them. The thought of putting Emmeline into a ‘Guardaria’ (crèche) over here at 4 months old makes me feel physically sick. The idea of someone else teaching her to sit and stand, someone else feeding her, someone else watching her learn to laugh? Uh no, no, no.

And as for the crap about we don’t do a lot during our day, simply mooch around watching Oprah. Huh! To anyone who thinks that we have it easy, here is a general day:

06:00/07:00 – wake up with Emmeline talking, try give her the dummy and quieten her, run for a quick wee, realise Emmeline will not go back to sleep, bring her into bed with me, fall asleep hugging her close

08:00 – wake up, try convince Emmeline to go back to sleep and eventually give in when she starts blowing bubbles and practicing her higher pitched gurgling, feed her in bed so she doesn’t get distracted by the TV

08:30 – make coffee and cereal; go through to the lounge with breakfast and baby. Put on TV, watch news, check emails, bank balance and a quick look at face book of course. Try to get Emmeline to sleep

10:00 – put Emmeline in her crib to sleep .get cleaned, dressed, beds made, dishes to kitchen, clothing in cupboards.

10:30 – Emmeline wakes up. Get her changed, dressed, and play with her.

11:00 – Emmeline in crib. Wash dishes, clean house, put on a load of washing

11:30 – feed Emmeline, burp her, probably change her nappy – she likes to poo whilst breastfeeding!

12:00 – put Emmeline to sleep again, hang up washing

13:00 – go to supermarket, stock up on necessities

14:30 – feed Emmeline, change her, burp her, and put her down to nap, make lunch

15:00 – try to do something! Work stuff (we have our own company), sewing, organising, computer stuff, personal stuff, anything!

16:00 – me and Emmeline go to have a long sleep together

18:00 – wake up

19:00 – dinner, feed Emmeline, play with her

20:30 – bath Emmeline

21:00 – put Emmeline to bed

01:00 – wake up for feeding

04:00 – wake up for feeding

Not that easy is it? Admittedly Xavi helps out a lot, and when we don’t have Yaincoa, even more. My free time whilst he is helping out is then spent with Emmeline. SAHM’s have several job roles. We have to divide ourselves into keeping everything running smoothly in the house, being absolutely everything for the newborn baby, being mommy to any other children in the household, being an open and supportive ear to our partners when they come home, being good children by taking our children to see their grandparents, trying to meet up with friends, and somehow, God knows where, find a tiny nanosecond of time just for us!

I am a stay at home mom, and I am proud of it. So I am not doing my dream job, living the high life, putting my studies to good use, no, but this morning when Emmeline giggled at me making Peek a Boo faces at her, nothing else seemed important any more. I feel lucky to be able to spend so much time with her instead of stuck behind a computer!

The first beats

Today was my third visit with the obstatrician, to me normally nothing more important than getting my blood pressure and my weight taken. My blood pressure has never been a problem, so I wasn't even thinking about that. My weight . . . well i have been eating every few hours and i am eating more these days! It is true that my sweet tooth has been enhanced by pregnancy, but i am also trying to eat a good mix of food with plenty of vegetable and fruit. The things i am not so good with is the fish (so whenever i am out i order fish) and the pulses (but for that i rely on Xavi's mother!). I have acepted the fact that i will and must put on a certain amount of weight for me and for bump, so i have accepted that i will probably have gained about 2 more kilos taking me up to 68kg's (64kg in November before i knew of existence of bump, 66kgs first doctors visit in december). Again, i wasnt really bothere with that part either.

What was i nervous about??

The doctor was going to be listening to the baby's heartbeat. I had been nervous for about a week or two about this. Why? Well because i felt the baby fluttering in week 14 and a little bit in week 15, but since then, bump has been quiet. I feel flutters sometimes and i feel the exploding bubbles sensations as well, but i was not too sure if this was bump making his/her presence felt, or if i was just imagining it. So i had started to worry that all was not fine and that maybe there was something wrong. Was bump a slow grower, was bump hidden deep in my tummy, was there something bigger wrong?? What if something had gone wrong. It got to the point where i didnt really want to buy any baby things or post any messages about baby just incase. I told Xavi who wisely told me to stop worrying and that everything was fine. He also pointed out with a smile that i was a mother now and that i was going to have many years of worrying infront of me! I felt a flush of the anger of being a parent and knowing that my child would unwillingly (and surely willingly someday) make me worry sick about them! My baby has not even been born yet and i already want to tell him/her off about it!

This morning finally arrived and thankfully i had things to keep me busy all morning and couldnt entertain all those horrible and dark thoughts that you creep up on people making you imagine the worst case scenario! 12:20 arrived and found me and Xavi sitting outside the doctors office armed with magazines as we now know, they are NEVER on time! I swear, doctors and their waiting times are the same all over the world!

So the doctor called us in and took my blood pressure, which was fine as usual. The came the dreaded part, the  . . . weight!! I made sure i took off my shoes to be sure i got an 'accurate and true' measurement.Using Xavi's son as the excuse i mumbled something along the lines of ' It's so  i can be sure i scale at home is right so that we can keep a true track of Yain's weight'. The doctor looked at me like i was crazy, i dont think she believed me for some reason??? Well i was bowled over to learn that i have gained a massive . . . 100grams. How is it that i am eating so much more than before and yet i have only gained a few kilos! Obviously this little baby is helping burn all those uneccesary calories with me! Even more amazing when i think that i have, or actually my stomach has grown out of my jeans! The legs fit fine, but the buttons just do not do up at all! Soooo dissapointing as it means that i really do have to go and buy maternity clothing!! Big elasticated pants!! I was hoping that i wouldnt have to do it, but looks like i do have to.

Then came the important part . . . the listening to the heart! She told me to not be nervous if we couldn't hear the heart and that i should keep calm and basically not freak out because the baby is still quite small so it is not always easy! I lifted up my shirt and she put on the jelly cream stuff, and used the little hand held thingy to try to find the heartbeat. I held my breath and a few seconds later i heard a very fast 'doosh doosh doosh'!!! YAAAAAAAY!!! Bump is fine and living and growing and has a nice strong and very fast heart going on inside of me!! i heaved out a huge sigh a relief and a smile lifted up my whole face. I looked over at Xavi and he had a huge smile on his face to also feeling relived that everything was alright.

I walked out of the doctors office and i have been feeling lightfooted all day long with a permanent smile on my face. Bump is doing fine, and if i cannot feel too much movement at the moment, no problem!

This baby is obviously just a little more lazy like its mother!!