What happened after...

They say you're never the same after loosing your mother.
They say you're life will never be the same after becoming a mother.
So what happens if those two life-changing events happen at the same time?
Let me tell you : you're lost, and you don't know how you get through it - but somehow, you wake up again in the morning (even if you haven't slept), and life goes on.

People say "I didn't know she was that sick" as an excuse for not having called, not having been in touch. Well, she had cancer. Not a cold. It's a deadly disease. What part of that didn't they understand?

People say "Little V will comfort you, and will make it easier". Well, on the contrary. V doesn't make it any easier - he makes it all far more difficult.
- when I laugh because he does something funny, I feel guilty. Who's happy when their mother has just passed away?
- when I cry because I miss my mom so much, I feel guilty. Now that I finally have what I wished for for so many years, I feel sad most of the time.
- I slept two hours the night before my mom's funeral, and the same after that most exhausting day. V's hunger doesn't take into account the fact that strong emotions already make you very tired.
- When I tried to say goodbye to my mom by going through her little things in her room, I got called away. V was hungry. No time for mourning.
- When V threw up minutes before we had to leave for the funeral, I had to leave him behind. No time to feed him, we had to be at the church in time.
- V was born and had to stay in neonatal intensive care for 7 days. At the same time my mother went to hospital for her last days. I had to choose between staying in one hospital to feed my baby, and spending what were possibly the last hours, days, in another hospital, with my mom.
- Breastfeeding can go seriously wrong because of fatigue, stress, and emotional shock. So, yes, on top of everything else, I didn't have enough milk anymore to feed little V. Resulting in feeling guilty and failing, and even more time spent on "feeding".
- the past two weeks, my life was made out of three things : trying to produce milk, being forced to rest or sleep the time in between, and doing the practical stuff for my mother's funeral. Almost no time was left to enjoy the nice things that come with a baby, like going for a walk, receiving visitors, collecting all the gifts we received, etc. I feel like a prisoner in my own apartment.
- V's birthday, and the memory if his birth, will forever be linked with the loss of my mom. I waited almost ten years to fulfill my dream - and now, sometimes, it looks like a nightmare.
- "Take good care of your dad" was one of the phrases I heard most yesterday. When or how am I supposed to do that? Believe me, in other circumstances I would be with him day and night. But as it happens, I have a three week old baby. So while we're at it, throw that as well on top of all the other guilty feelings.

So no, by no means, does V make it "easier".
But he is our little man, and I love him with all my heart.

26 August 2011

Victor Alexander was born on the 26th of August 2011, at 1.19 AM in the morning.
Today, after one of the most moving weeks of my life, we came home with our son.

The last week

So, we have officially arrived at what is "the last week of my pregnancy". Can't believe it...The last two months suddenly went by very fast.
Tiny N is still dutifully practising every single night, for about an hour. This is becoming "Giving birth in as many episodes as possible".
Last night, P and I had one more session with the fysio, and we did another practice-drive to hospital (which we really need, as it's about 1 km from our place ;-). I have a feeling the little guy is going to come now in one of the following days, somewhere between tomorrow and Sunday - but we'll see. For all we know, he may decide to stay put for another week.
From time to time, it's as if my body is producing "home-made" tranquilizers; keeping me calm even in times of extreme stress. Like yesterday, when my mother was in a very bad state, and had to go to hospital. So I guess nature is taking care of things, in its own way. And visiting friends with chocolate cake, tons of magazines and a pile of DVDs help as well, of course!

Waiting

My belly looks as if it has taken the elevator and gone two floors down. Funny sight.
And probably one step closer to getting this baby out, eventually.
I don't know how many more nights our little guy wants to "practise" before he finally decides he's ready for the real thing...I just hope I won't be completely tired out by then.
Weight has gone down again...we're back at + 7kg instead of + 8 kg. I can't even manage a complete cupcake...Now there's something to be ashamed of :-) !

P has started writing the addresses on the envelopes of the birth announcements, which felt like a pretty scary moment to me."Oh, so you mean this is really going to happen?!" Sometimes denial is the only way out of this...

Other than that, I've filled my days with watching TV, long phone calls with friends, an occasional walk around the block, staring at my computer screen, playing patience, and, highlight of this week, getting a pedicure. And reading, if I manage to concentrate on something for more than a minute.
Let's just say I'm very happy that it's finally weekend again, and that P's home.

Wires and graphs

I spent the morning in hospital, all wired up, to monitor what exactly is happening with Tiny N (and with me, obviously). The little man is doing great, nothing out of the ordinary. Mommy is having contractions, irregular in time and intensity. And mommy is completely exhausted from yet another sleepless night, but there was no graph to show that.
Now I'm basically "trapped" indoors. Walking has become quite a challenge with sciatic nerve pains, so even a walk around the block is not an option. And god knows when the next intense contraction might strike - let's just say I don't want to be standing in line at the local supermarket when it does.

Already, I'm completely bored out of my mind. I can't concentrate on anything more substantial than some reality tv, every little nook of the house has been cleaned, I can't seem to focus on any book, and I'm too wound up to sleep. Summary: I'm going crazy. These are going to be loooong days.

The things P did

Some of the great things P did this weekend for me and Tiny N:
- hold us (the best painkiller)
- waking me up with flowers on Sunday morning
- surprising me with a completely assembled Bugaboo, standing in the middle of the garage when I wanted to park my car.
- switch bedsides so that I can sleep on his fancy (and very comfy) tempur-mattress.
- And then, yesterday : spreading out what looked like a beach towel on one of our terrace chairs. For me to sit on, I assumed. Which I did. Then I started to notice a nasty smell....The beach towel appeared to be his swimming- and fitness towel of last week, which he had put there to dry. Appears there's a limit to being pampered ;-) !

Let's practise

That's what Tiny N must be thinking these days...
Saturday evening after a nice relaxing bath and last nigth at 2.00 AM : contractions. Each time for about half an hour, and then it stops...as if nothing has happened.
P has been there for me every single second. Can't do this without him.

A life for a life

Becoming a mother and losing your mother.
Can anybody tell me how you have to do them at the same time?
Yesterday the doctor told my parents there's nothing left they can do for her.
And here I am...facing what is supposed to be nothing but bliss and happiness.
This morning I barely had the strength to get up and dressed. How can I give birth, and take care of tiny N?

Tiny N has a name!

The last things on our to-do list are checked! Meaning we have birth announcement cards, and "suikerbonen" - a typical Belgian sweet (what else but chocolate), given to family and friends whenever a baby is born. AND.....we have a name!
Apparently our little man decided to dance the night away to celebrate this event, leaving his mommy completely and utterly exhausted to start her last week at work...

A month, a week

Less than a month until my official due-date (26 days, to be precise), and still a week at work to get through.
Our little man is getting heavier every day - it feels like my life is one big continuous work-out session. And I honestly can't remember what it feels like to be NOT tired.
With his growing, there's simply no space left for anything else in my belly.Food goes in in tiny portions, if at all. And his slightest move makes me run (well, more waddle) to the bathroom.
But it is so great to feel how he's "ready". He reacts to noise, touch, voices,...and sometimes it definitely feels as if he's trying to find a way out! Let's hope it takes him a few more weeks to figure out how...

The baby room

Just the 2.8 of us

We might not have a government for more than a year now, but at least we still have our national holiday, which was last Thursday - the perfect excuse for a very long weekend. P and I enjoyed it right here in Brussels, with typical Belgian summer weather (= rain and not warmer than 20°C - but no complaints from my side). And although we did nothing very special, I had a great time:
- walk through Brussels with P (realising that we still had all our hands and arms to hold eachother, instead of a Bugaboo)
- go to the cinema (without having to organise a babysit)
- have lunch at Mc Do (which is special, if it's the first food that actually tastes good in weeks)
- just relax at home, watching crapy reality TV shows together
- have brunch with friends
- go to the last sales and buy stuff for ourselves for once (instead of shopping for Tiny N)
In other words : I really, really enjoyed the long weekend with P.
Tiny N was there with us, kicking all the time, but I'm happy that for once we didn't do any baby-related things. To me, those couple of days off were very special.
As of tomorrow, it's back on the baby-track, with puff class on Tuesday morning, breastfeeding info-session on Wednesday evening, and doctor's visit on Friday afternoon!

Tiny N is not so tiny anymore

Our little man weighs almost 2 kg - estimated weight at birth is 3.300kg., and he's about 40 cm long. He's got five little toes on each foot - the doc and I counted them together on the ultrasound, and apparently he was doing some very serious thinking (scratching his head with one of his little fists).
What's very funny at this stage, is that I really feel that he's becoming a little person. He reacts to sounds, to movements, and he has his own little schedule. And he has hickups - sometimes several times a day - but apparently it helps if I rub where his back is supposed to be. Oh, and one more thing we saw on the ultrasound : he's got hair :-) !

While he's in supershape, mommy's feeling a bit less grand. Dizzy spells all day long, and hello good old friend morning sickness (although forget the "morning" part). Of course - you've guessed it - as with all other complaints, "it's completely normal". Due to a change in  hormones (you've got to love them) as your body is preparing for birth, you can get nauseous again in the third trimester. So it's back to force-feeding myself - only for Tiny N's sake. For more than a month, I haven't gained a single gram - only lost a kilo from time to time when it got really bad - and done my very best to gain it back again.
When I don't feel dizzy, about to faint, or nauseous, I actually feel very good and with more energy than before. So over the past few weeks it has happened more than once that I think "wow, I feel great, let's do this, this, and that", only to wind up lying on the floor of a tiny fitting room, covered in cold sweat, gasping for air, my heart ready to jump out of my chest. (as you see, "taking it slow", is still the biggest challenge for me during this pregnancy!)

What else this week? I've washed and neatly folded all the baby clothes, I've washed the sheets and made his little bed (okay, call it "nesting" if you want), and I've finally learned some breathing techniques and positions to help me through labour. The girl who gave the session had a baby herself three months ago - and her enthousiasm and confidence was really inspiring - and contagious. For the first time I dared to think "okay, I can do this". Let's keep that thought.

A lot in one week

In just one week :
- I ordered all the "bare baby-necessities" online (they got delivered today, and I just finished dragging them up the stairs)
- I bought all the baby-room furniture (2 hours in an overcrowded IKEA)
- My dad and I emptied the guest room, and assembled all foresaid furniture
- All the sheets etc for the decoration of the baby-room (that I ordered from Amazon) got delivered as well (and lost at the post office, but in the end, after suffering from a slight nervous breakdown, everything was found)
- P and I went to a pre-natal class on going into labor and the delivery itself. Very interesting - but at the same time the best birthcontrol method I've ever seen. Seriously, everybody only concidering a baby, should go first to one of these, and if then you still want one...well then, I guess, as the saying goes (but to be interpreted quite literally here) "you would die to have a baby". I now know that the average labour-time for a first one is around 10 hours (not counting previous irregular contractions), and the pushing itself can last up until 2 hours (or even longer if you have an epidural). Oh joy. I seriously don't know how I'm going to do it.

The worst part is that there's simply nothing you can do to prepare yourself. You have exams - you study all night and you give it all you've got. You have to give a presentation - you do it in front of a miror until you've got it right.You want to run a marathon - you train that body. You want to loose weight - you go on a diet. Etcetara. And in all the above, "not doing" is still an option.
Here : I don't even know what I'm up against, and there's no such option as giving up or failing. I try to do all I can to get ready - infosessions, physio, ... - but it all feels so useless. And not helpful. What good will it do to know for instance that they will "cut" down there during a contraction, because then you're in such pain, that you don't even feel them cutting?
God, let's just stop writing about is as well, because that's not really helpful either.

Focus on the positive :
- the baby-room looks really cute,
-tiny N is doing well - kicking and moving around day and night,
-P is confident that "I"ll do just fine",
-with all the pricing-research the baby-budget is still very much under control;
- next week, we'll see tiny N again in 3D!
- in less than 8 weeks, we'll have our baby-boy in our arms.

Beach-time

Tiny N made his first long walks on the beach. Although he didn't have to do anything - just float around in his personal jacuzzi. But the effect the sea-air had on us was amazing. I hadn't felt that good in weeks, and with me feet in the fresh water, I felt as light as a feather again (okay, maybe a whole geese farm of feathers).
Slight moment of fear this morning, when I got weighed at the doctor's. Because Belgian coast also means waffles, icecream, and just great food in general. But apparently all the walking (and being sick last week) took care of that. So a nice status-quo at 59 kg. 7 kg gained, in other words, since day one of the pregnancy. Although when I look at the pictures taken this weekend, I have the impression I more than doubled in size (horizontally, that is - unfortunatelly not vertically).

Being at the sea was also a perfect opportunity to dream about the future : build sand castles with tiny N, fly kites, eat icecreams together, go the the playing ground, drive funny go-carts, collect sea shells ... We'll definitely do all that little man, so stop kicking your mom's ribs for a moment :-).

Shopping therapy

Voilà, it's done. I took a deep breath, and let myself go on Amazon. Bedding set, plaid, mobile, carpet, bedlamp, wall stickers for tiny N's room. Theme : "travel" (cars, boats, airplanes and trucks). This is it :

I know that babies can only see what's in a 20 cm range, and I know that our little man couldn't care less if his room is green, blue or orange. But let's just say that this is part of the welcoming ritual. And of me facing reality.

10 weeks to go

Could be more, could be less. But it's a nice number to start the final countdown. And maybe to start actually preparing the arrival of this baby. Because at this point, nothing is done yet. No baby room, no name (although the short list exists), no godparents, no birth announcements, ...
So I almost choked when the doctor asked me if I had already prepared "ma valise" to go to hospital. Now I can barely look at a pack of diapers without experiencing an anxiety attack - let alone that I'm able to prepare "ma valise"...But okay, apparently it's something that has to be done once you've crossed the 7-months milestone. And when I read the list of what has to be in this "valise", I want to run away even harder. "Disposable underpants" - come again? Sanitary pads, breast pads - okay, I've got it - I will be leaking from all sides and it won't be pretty. Whoever designed the female body to do all this, made some serious engineering mistakes, if you ask me.

P on the other hand is very active in preparing. He managed to get his hands on a maxicosi and isofix carkit; he is a specialist when it comes to buggies; he knows what to look for to determine the right daycare centre, etc. Meanwhile, my head becomes foggier by the minute, and I'm lucky if I even remember to drink the cup of tea I've prepared for the third time.

Luckily, the doctor told me that I'm not a complete nutcase to have all these fears - and that every new mother faces them, sooner or later, before or after birth. And while I sat mumbling away in French, she managed to clearly put into words exactly how and what I felt. She also advised me to go see and talk to someone - which is what I might do. I really want to be able to relax, to be happy and to enjoy this for the last two monts. And actually prepare for the big adventure.

Just one more thing :
telling me how difficult and exhausting the first months are, how utterly painful breastfeeding is, how the delivery can last for 24 hours or longer, how your relationship is bound to suffer and change, how your body will never be the same afterwards, how you have absolutely no time left for yourself, how an epidural can go wrong, how the episotomy can ruin your sex life for more than a year, etc, etc.....All that is really NOT helping me. Even if it's told with the best intentions. Even if it's followed by a weak "but it's also nice, you know". I hope everybody got the message.

Cry-baby

Well, what can I say? It goes on. And on. And on. I feel like I've been pregnant for 2 years or more. I miss my old self. And I'm scared as hell.
While P is growing more and more into this ( picturing himself and Tiny N watching war movies together, going to the gym together, etc), all I'm thinking is "I can't do this!". And I'm the one who has been dreaming about motherhood for the last 10 years. I feel like one of those people who go completely crazy, and screw up everything, after winning the lottery.
I cry because P's mom tells me to look at baby stuff in the UK.
I cry because the Eurostar guard tells me I can't take my tea through security.
I have even cried with more than one Bones episode (but season 6 was a bit more emotional than usual, wasn't it? Please say "yes").
I tell P 10 times a week how much I love him, because I have this irrational fear that I'm going to loose him once this baby is born.
I spend hours, days, choosing the decoration for the nursery, and then I don't buy it, simply because I get so scared. And, yes, I end up crying again.
Maybe I should talk to my OB, although I feel she never takes anything I say seriously.

On the positive side:
I've slept better the past week. Or maybe I'm just getting used to my 5 AM wake-up calls (= Tiny N's early work-out session).
Our landlord installed a banister - so less chance of me falling down the stairs.
I found a remedy against heartburn that doesn't make me nauseous.
The leg cramps got better (but are not entirely gone).
And still no stretch marks thanks to good old Nivea.

Hello last trimester!

Here we are : the final and last trimester. I can't imagine getting any bigger or even more tired, but it's bound to happen anyway.
The few hours of sleep I get every night are filled with the most awful nightmares. To give you an idea, this week I dreamed:
- about women giving birth to elephants (scary bussiness)
- about getting kicked out of our apartment (somehow by my parents and P's mom!) and having no place to stay with the baby.
- about P leaving me for someone "who at least still looked sexy" (his words, in my dream), and taking my favourite teddy bear with him.
Then I wake up screaming as if someone is about to kill me with a knife (that one I also dreamed), and I wake up everybody else - including Tiny N (and maybe the neighbours)

For another nightly bliss - the leg cramps - relief is hopefully on its way. The doctor prescribed me magnesium tablets - which should also help against the annoying contractions I get every time I walk more than 10 minutes.

The gluco test came back with good results - I can deal with huge amounts of sugar (hey, I already knew that :-). And everything else is okay with Tiny N too. He's in very good shape, and according to the doctor, he'll weigh at least 3.5 kg at birth (I don't know if I should feel happy about this). He's happily kicking his feet against my ribs, and if I sit in a position which he doesn't find comfy, he let's me know in ways that can't be misunderstood. Sometimes I can feel his heartbeat through my belly, and I can also distinctly feel his different bodyparts moving inside me (feet,  knees, hands).

Our little man already visited Paris 2 weeks ago, and will be on his way to discover London next weekend. New York will have to be post-natal :-). I hope to find something cool for him in Harrod's (having spent next to nothing yet, I feel totally allowed). Let's just hope the magnesium will have kicked in by Friday!

Quote of the day

"Having a baby is like having a tattoo on your face"
(Viola Davis in "Eat Pray Love")