And then the smiles arrived

So here I am, attempting to type with one hand, whilst supporting a hiccuping nearly-6-week-old, who is partly resting, partly grumbling, on my chest after his afternoon feed.

Yes, the latest (last?) human member of our family arrived on Saturday 14th May, claiming a birth date all to himself, not sharing his birthday with any family members, had he actually arrived on his due date (6th May). A week and a day overdue, he made his way into the world quickly, with the aid of an induction (which clearly proved that once the gates were unlocked, there was no stopping his entrance) – disproving the midwives who expected a reasonable labour length. Not he – a 3 hour labour was enough, thankyou. Quite a difference to the length of labour his elder brother needed. And quite a difference to the weight – 8 pound, 2 ounces – to that of his brother – 9 pound, 6 ounces. And, given the labour – no pain relief because it was so quick – I was glad he wasn’t bigger than his brother. I can’t imagine the pain – or the amount of tearing and subsequent stitches – that a larger baby would entail.

I had meant to blog earlier – considering I managed to do so not long after his brother arrived 3 years – but somehow time passes far too quickly and it seems I have far less time to do things, and have far less ability to do things with a 3 year old and nearly 6 week old. Today’s amazing achievement - 2 loads of washing ON THE LINE (and not just getting the machine going and then forgetting about the load afterwards until a couple of days later... oops) as well as doing the grocery shopping. Yay me!

And whilst the fanfare of his arrival is a little less subdued – no baby shower (my decision), no houseful of congratulatory floral bouquets, no spotlessly clean house on arrival home (yes, this did happen after the birth of first baby) – he is much loved already. And the last 5 weeks of erratic feeding, sleeping, nappy changing and undeterminable cries have rewarded us this week with our first little grins and smiles. Worth the wait despite our lack of sleep.

Waiting, wishing...

So, right now am wishing that this pregnancy would live up to this blog's name and 'skip to the end'. Currently, 38 weeks and feel like I'm carrying a bag of bricks.

Fortunately, unlike last pregnancy, I'm in a better mindset as to what to expect. And, not suffering high blood pressure, suspected kidney stone, pelvic soreness or a blind sense of panic.
Unfortunately, like last pregnancy, have been suffering from reflux/heartburn (much worse than last time) and lack of sleep (not helped by 3 year old).

Things different from last time - have kept much fitter, still going to gym throughout pregnancy (although tomorrow - Saturday - will probably be my last visit). Have maintained better figure - still managing to fit in size 14 clothes (and thus, maternity clothing looks slightly more welcoming), despite putting on some 20 kilos - hopefully due to internal child and water retention! Recent blood test showed iron deficiency, so taking supplements to combat that. And, another plus, breasts appear bigger so perhaps breastfeeding might actually work this time. (But I'm not going to let it do my head in if it doesn't, like last time).

And, as per last pregnancy, adopting the 'slug' pose (lying sideways on couch/bed) is still the most favourable position. I can't wait to be able to lie on my back again and get back to the gym!

Christmas and New Years

Christmas came and went. Now we're in the New Year with still more jobs about the house to do, and a crapload more toys to clean up after. And that's only one child, I don't even want to think about how bad it will be when the next one arrives!

Speaking of which, we finally told Rory about the new baby and he seems pretty unfussed and unfazed. Perhaps he's already been clued in, due to the various references dropped about the place by close family and friends. At least we have had the advantage of several friends (and his Aunt) going through the pregnancy stages and the end result of babies, so I think he has a fair idea of what's going to happen. Fat belly = baby.

The break between Christmas and New Years gave hubby the opportunity to knock over several tasks around the house - set up the new outdoor setting, install lighting under the pergola, connect piping from water tank to vegetable garden (which is thriving, as you can see from photos above). He still wants to complete the rendering of the house - and after that, redo the paving out the back. He's also built the wooden Thomas train layout tray which slides neatly under Rory's bed, as well as rebuilding the sand pit so it's much bigger and Rory's digger (his Christmas present from Gran & Pa) seats neatly in it, with plenty of space for digging.

New Years Eve was spent trying to avoid the heat - and for me, the sun (despite managing to get myself sunburnt twice in 2 weeks) - and we caught up with Corey's Aunt and cousin (and extended family) for a late lunch, and later, a quiet evening our close friend's place, munching on home made, woodfired pizzas. Home by 10 - the small boy thrown into bed. His parents fell asleep on the couch and were in bed by 11.50pm. Clearly, the most quietest of New Years evenings we've had.

Merry New Years!