Mummy guilt…am i doing enough to stimulate him, does he watch too much TV, is he bored? Am i keeping him warm enough/cool enough, is he happy? Am i feeding him the right food?
All in all this guilt i think is normal for any parent and i try not to let it ruin my day, but in the middle of the night, it eats away at me.
Sibling guilt. I dont want to try for another baby. I feel like, in the IVF world, im the only person who doesnt want another baby. Im too scared of another loss, Little T has escaped his Dad’s blood condition and my asthma, hes perfect, i like my life how it is. I dont think i could manage a newborn and a toddler. All legit reasons. But i feel guilty anyway. Like i should want another baby, that i should give Little T a sibling. I feel selfish and i hate that.
Infertility guilt. Christmas is tomorrow. For the first time in a decade, i dont feel an overwhelming sense of sadness, for the first time in a long time, we have a tree and decorations. I dont need to hide away, i dont feel angry at the world. I dont feel broken
But i do feel guilty. I feel guilty because i know so many other people who havent got their baby yet, i know this time of year is horrific for them. I feel guilty because i remember it all too well.
I feel guilty because it happened for me and not them
I know i went through the mill to get Little T, that i deserve to be happy, but once you suffer infertility, i think ot stays with you for life. I feel guilty for feeling jealous when someone announces a pregnancy. I dont even want another baby. But im still jealous. Infertilility is life long.
So, for those of you lucky enough to have all your dreams come true, enjoy tomorrow, cherish every moment.
For those of you still waiting, do what you have to just to get through it. Hide, drink, rant, rave, avoid whatever hurts you. Dont worry about letting people down, theyll forgive you.
6 months today!!! Flown by. Although in those first few weeks i didnt think we would make it.
Little T is an absolute delight these days. Except when he is teething and/or stays up late. Which is a lot at the moment. But its fine because mostly he is awesome
I still worry EVERY morning that he has died in his sleep (he is in his own room). I wake up and lie there waiting for him to make a noise, im too scared to go in first in case i find him lifeless. I remind myself daily that he is fine but im not sure ill ever stop feeling this way.
During the day though, we are having the best fun together. We have 4 classes a week and my anxiety about attending new ones is virtually zero.
Support network is set up, and brilliant.
We start weaning at the weekend. We are going with baby led. Im nervous and i dont know why. Perhaps because i have had such a strange relationship with food. Perhaps because its a sign time is flying past. Whatever it is, im fully kitted out now, and the veg is bought so i just need to take the plunge.
Changing tac slightly…
I had my 1st really down day yesterday. Id forgotten how low i could feel. It was preceeded by an anxiety attack the night before. It was a shock. I felt tearful all day. Its passed now but it was a stark reminder of why i take my meds.
Im currently having a kid free shop, its weird and i miss him. But its been nice to eat a sandwich slowly and drink a warm cup of tea. Haha
Little T isnt well. He started off snuffly and now has a hacking/barking cough and a cold.
I passed him my cold. Im wracked with guilt and shattered as im not sleeping. Im worried hes going to die. I can hear mucus on his chest but hes not coughing it up. Im worried he will drown. Which i know is stupid but im a mess anyway.
Hes also moved into his own room this weekend. He had to. He was practically wearing the crib in our room. Hes taken really well to his big boy cot. Im actually shocked at how well given hes poorly.
Hes napping more as he is unwell, but has no temperature so i think its just a cold. Do i take him to the GP anyway?
He is eating but less than normal, probably as he is snuffly. Im giving him Calcough to coat his throat as it sounds a bit sore. Im running the shower and letting him breathe in the steam, what else can i do?
Its a minefield. I dont want to waste the GPs time but i dont want him to suffer. Am i worrying un-neccesarily?
I thinking of sleeping in the rocking chair so i can hear him breathing between coughs. Is that OTT? Will it make me more anxious?
When awake hes in good spirits, seems himself etc.
What do i do? Im not one for bothering the GP usually but im worried ill try to manage it and itll be a chest infection and ill put him at risk.
Its 1am and i needed to get it out. I might get some sleep now. I saw 1am, twice, last night, stupid clocks going back.
I went back to counselling this week. Mr Me made the referral when i was struggling. In the hour i was there, i managed to cover the time from his birth to my struggles to feeling better.
Over the course of this week ive realised my next session will be my last. I dont need that level of support anymore. I know how to manage my issues now. I can self analyse, know what will make me anxious and why and how to cope with that.
I know ill probably need to be medicated for depression for most of my life but im ok with that. Im ok to admit that i suffer with anxiety and depression, the same way i suffer with and am medicated for asthma. Its just part of my life. Im at peace with that.
Actually, im happy. Im happy i finally have my baby, happy that, despite all the crap, Mr Me and I made it. Happy im a mummy, a wife, a friend.
Worry, sleep deprivation and self doubt are creeping away. Little T is nearly 12 weeks old (oh my god i have a 3 month old) and hes thriving (now that hes being treated for reflux)
Now i get more than 2 hours sleep a night, im more rational, more confident. In the last couple of weeks we have settled into a nice routine.
Ive joined more classes, i spend more time just enjoying Little T and watching him learn and develop. I no longer constantly hold myself up to the impossible standard i set myself.
I now love being his mummy. Now that ive stopped worrying about losing myself, ive found my feet. Im still me, still put my make up on, do my nails when i can, go out with my friends, spend quality time with Mr Me. Im me AND a mummy.
Now i know why we fought so hard for so long, now i know i was right to want this so much.
Ive stopped caring if i get all the washing done, stopped worrying about keeping on top of the housework. It gets done. Not today though. Today ive spent all day snuggling, because he needed me, and i needed him. There wont always be days where we can just snuggle so these days are special.
I have the feels. All the feels. Im besotted, hes amazing, i cant remember life without him
But it took 8 weeks. 8 weeks to admit i loved him, 8 weeks to allow myself those feelings. To be honest im still cautious but my heart swells with his first smile of the day, regardless of my fear.
Infertility sucks on many levels. The months (years) of trying and failing. The agony of a period. The hoops to jump through en route to IVF, the hundreds of injections, watching all your friends have babies. People getting bored of your journey, the agony of IVF failures, of cancelled cycles, of feeling you are worth nothing as a woman. I could go on.
Basically its shit. And you know what, it continues to be shit even though i now have my very own mini human. Why? Because it hindered the love…it took so long for Little T to feel like mine, rather than me looking after someone elses baby. I was waiting for the bubble to burst. A small part of me still is and always will be, i guess.
Im still jealous of the fertile people, they decide to get pregnant and within months, are. No military planning, no saving thousands of pounds. Just happens or a little cycle observation and bam, preggers.
I still envy a bump. Stare in awe. Wish i could do it without investing time and money. Its silly, but true.
Baby loss literally built a wall around my heart. A wall im still chipping away at. Losing 2 children, 2 (IVF) babies, is soul destroying. It messes you up in so many ways. Ways i thought id dealt with. Then Little T came along and i realised i was messed up in ways i didnt imagine.
For weeks i thought i would lose him. That he would die. Thats what my babies did, they died. I was beyond terrified to love this tiny human in case he left me. I couldnt contemplate another loss. I just knew it would break me. So i kept Little T at arms length. Worried that loving him would mean losing him.
That fear consumed me. For so many weeks. Until the fear of seeing my baby, my offspring, in pain. The 8 week immunisations. Thank god for them, not only for the protection they offer but for opening my heart.
Feeling guarded, not loving my child. Shameful? Not at all. Just the way things are after the hand id been dealt. I will always admit to these feelings, ill never regret what ive been through. I truly am a better person for it. Never did i think itd extend this far into my life though…
Little T is officially a person!! We registered him on Thursday. It was a fairly momentous day. I never thought id have a legal tiny human with a birth certificate and everything. An actual real birth certificate. A legally recognised child. Wow.
The same day that it was made legal, the day i officially became a Mummy, was also the same day as my 1st #mummyfail
After registering him, we had lunch, including little T, we then laid flowers at the Manchester memorial. Very sobering at the best of times but with a newborn it was something else. I had goosebumps. The whole city is grieving as one. The pain was palpable but so was the sense of community and determination that we will not be beaten
As we made our way back to the car, Little T was getting hungry, and i hadnt packed another bottle!!!!!! We had to go straight to the Prolonged Jaundice Clinic so the poor guy screamed for about an hour. I have never felt so awful. What a shit parent. Ive learnt from it and ill never leave the house with 1 bottle again but my word! It was just the worst feeling.
Not only that but i cut his little finger when clipping his nails the other day!!! The boy has really sharp nails and scratches himself, and me, a lot but from now on ill only be filing them down.
The smallest of things can really knock you. Being referred to the Jaundice Clinic made me feel i wasnt capable of looking after him properly. Even though he is still Jaundice, the Nurse Practitinor was happy that it would resolve on its own, still though, i couldnt get it cleared in the 2 weeks specified so #mummyfail
I couldnt breastfeed #mummyfail
I cut his finger #mummyfail
I didnt pack enough food #mummyfail
Not only am i making rookie mistakes but im also missing being pregnant which i feel guilty about. I waited so long to be a Mummy and now i am, i miss being pregnant.
However, the NCT girls who have also given birth, miss their bumps too, so im not alone or weird.
Even though it was tough at the end and my anxiety was up throughout, i miss feeling him move, i miss the way i looked, i miss the feeling that i was doing something amazing. Now im just flabby, with no clothes that fit!!!! But my belly button bar did go back in with ease the other day which pleased me no end!!
Despite all my #mummyfails, yesterday Little T and i flew solo as Mr Me went back to work. We survived. And with smiles on our faces. We didnt get out but i did organise a drawer
I applied for child benefit and kept the boy alive so im classing it as a #mummywin
I missed Mr Me terribly but i was proud that we got on well without him. I managed a shower, getting dressed and made up, lunch, sterilising and making up bottles. Ok so everything took an hour and a half longer than normal (when Mr Me is around and since Little T’s birth) but it got done and that is a #mummywin
The feelings are coming. I stare at him and marvel that i made him, i study every part of his face, admire every expression and movement. I would do anything to protect him. I miss him when he sleeps.
Its not the ‘rush’ i expected, was told about, instead its a slow creep of emotion that in time will consume my very being. Its not what i was expecting but its more than i ever dreamed it would be.
At 2.30am i was contracting away so had some paracetamol and codeine whilst a doctor looked over my notes to see if i was allowed more Prostin (the induction med). He agreed i could have another dose but as i was painfully contracting, the midwives decided to hold back.
At 4am, with the aid of gas and air, i had an internal. Babys head is low down meaning cervix has been pushed back. It took 2 midwives to determine i was 2-3cm dilated and still had 0.5cm in length.
At 5am the contractions stopped. Dead. Not even a twinge. Was told i was ready for them to artificially rupture membranes (break my waters) at 5.30am but that we were waiting on a bed in delivery.
Im still waiting. And im bored.
Managed 2hrs broken sleep to be woken up to the woman next door giving birth. In the induction ward. Not even the right fecking place.
Spent well over an hour on the monitor this morning as baby was super active so took ages to get his base line heart rate settled.
Was told i was being moved to a bay of 4, freaked out but got dressed (into new PJs that were meant for post partum) did my make up and packed, to be then told i was staying put.
Went for a decaf Costa and a walk. Came back to my room so Mr Me could massage my sore back, had another hours sleep and still no progress with labour or a bed.
Im seriously wondering if ill ever meet this baby.