House in order

It's been a tumultuous month since our second baby arrived, but I finally feel like I can start getting our house in order. I've accepted my house is going to have a new sense of "clean"...as in, it may never be spotless again! Perhaps I can save that shining perfection for after the children leave home?

 

 That's where it got to!

This past month has been about letting go of my expectations and running with what's directly in front of me. About embracing this new sense of disorder, with a beautiful sense of accomplishment.

It's a lot easier accepting baby's cry, feed and do other baby stuff when they need to, instead of beating myself against an expectation that things should be "just" so, or remember when things used to be like...

Can we really cut 'n paste fragments of time, to keep our reality in check?

 My watch but who's counting?

Life rarely stays the same though, and I'm swept into this new sense of direction. I'm embracing and smiling as if it were exactly how it was meant to be. Dis-ordered chaos. Yep! That's my house alright, and I'm completely okay with that. I can still make it a beautiful way to live, by choosing not to argue with reality.  I put my attitude on and feel great immediately.

 Ready to bake another day

The dirty dishes and laundry, do eventually get done. My food covered floors, do eventually get swept. At the moment, I've been sorting through stuff I no longer need and re-purposing items I've always intended for other uses.

I'm even starting to think "plants" again. Several sad culprits are in desperate need of re-potting, if I'm to save them at all - and it's not too late to take hardwood cuttings from some of my deciduous trees and roses.

Little things, really, but it all adds up. I'm happy to say, I've got plenty to keep me busy without being obsessed with too much detail. Anything which is achievable and productive, keeps me smiling - especially if it allows me to come and go as our new baby demands. Life is pretty good, even if I don't get all the sleep I want and get covered in baby vomit.

Isn't it all the little things which helps keep life interesting?

Peter's Story - days 6 - 8

Days six and seven, were Peter's first real taste of home. It's where he got to see his family in action, and where we got to see how everything suddenly changed around this new little person.

After our first bath at home

Peter enjoyed his first bath at home, and Dad was proud to see him wearing the "Doctor Who" body suit he got especially for him. I dedicated a lot of time breastfeeding, which I missed out on doing while in hospital. It was a lovely time.

Of course, speaking of 'hospital' there was a little proviso in leaving - getting a follow-up blood test to check how his borderline jaundice was progressing. On day eight, we had a lactation consultant appointment at the hospital (which was brilliant at helping me) and so we took Peter to do the blood test afterwards. Then it was off to catch-up on some food shopping!

Life was returning to normal. But just as we hit the first shop to collect some bibs for Peter, we received a phone call on the mobile. It was the dreaded paediatricians again, and it wasn't good news. Two hours later and the blood results were already in. They wanted to admit him that night, to do some light therapy for his jaundice. It broke my heart...

Love you Sweetie!

So my little baby boy, got another feeding tube up his nose, he was cooked under the lights for 12 hours and had to wear a blindfold so it wouldn't burn his eyes. My breastfeeding got put on hold again, but at least I got to spend the night with him in the Paediatric ward. On the whole though, I hated it and I hated the whole industrialised attitude at the hospital.

I don't want to mar Peter's story with grievances about hospitals, but I will say that while I respect the need of trained medical staff to save lives which are in serious jeopardy, I'm not sure why they would want to clog the system up with "just in case" patients. One would think a firm diagnosis would ensure necessary treatment, rather than treating every baby as if they were in serious jeopardy.
I can only say this having birthed two children, ten years apart. The system has changed from a diagnosis based treatment plan, to a mass production line of neonates - all being treated as if they're going to die. My son was denied breast milk during those vital few days following birth, in preference for being dosed up on antibiotics, formula and glucose drips instead.

I cannot say if these added measures saved his life or not, because it wasn't a diagnosis based treatment plan. It was explained to me every time, as a, 'just in case', measure.

 Peter loves cuddles

But that part of our lives is behind us now. Our little Peter is going from strength to strength. Whatever lack of appetite he experienced in the past, has been made up for now! Sadly, we had to give up breast milk, due to Peter's tongue being the wrong shape for good extraction, but it was the second bout of mastitis which really did it for me. I'm glad we stuck with it, for as long as we could though.

And now about Peter's name. We had originally selected another one, and it's one I really loved. It was, "Millan". Feedback from relatives however, wasn't very encouraging. We decided to err on the side of caution and stick with a traditional name instead. "Peter" was in honour of David's departed Father.

So in a nutshell, that is Peter's story, of the first eight days of his life. When I look at his older sister though, I know how quickly time flies by. It's why I cherish every smile I give him now. He will linger with us for as long as possible, but manhood will soon call him one day, and I will have to say goodbye to my little boy, once and for all.

In the meantime its lots of cuddles and kisses!

 

Peter's Story - day 5

Day five from birth was coming home day! Our little guy had been through so much in the Special Care Nursery. He started with a feeding tube in his nose, which then became a glucose drip in his wee little hand, that lead to a nasty course of antibiotics.

For the record, I believe a lot of this was unnecessary, but that's a subject for another post. Because when it was the day to come home for Peter, nothing could have wiped the smile from my face.

Returned to hospital 24 hours after my discharge

I kept my hospital tag on, until we arrived home together

With the feeding tube removed from his nose, I was able to successfully breastfeed him for the first time before we left the hospital. I couldn't wait to leave the place, but we will miss "Lincoln" who was Peter's little premature room buddy. He was so tiny compared to Peter, yet just as robust!

 You've earned the rest, Peter

My boy looked just like a regular baby now. No more facial bruising, and I even noticed how much blonder he appeared, than his older sister when she first left the hospital. But they both still had Dad's long eyelashes!

Mum's papoose

I almost felt like a prison escapee when I tucked my precious little bundle under my wing and fled the hospital confines. We had our own paparazzi following our every step though, with David clicking madly to capture everything - even when we finally wrangled him into the baby capsule to drive home.

Dad's got you!

But driving home was the best feeling of all, because 24 hours earlier I was arriving home after my discharge without our baby boy. I stayed in the car for at least 10 minutes, afraid to go inside and not find him there. All of those five days had been spent in a matter of confines. I couldn't take him out of the Special Care Nursery, I couldn't feed him, nor could I hold him close - not without some tangle of medical tubing getting in the way.

Yet coming home that day made up for it all. We brought him home and he was where he belonged. We all took our turn holding and adoring him.

Our two treasures

We even got that precious picture of sister and brother, we failed to capture at the hospital. She likes to hold her little brother - in fact, we all do. The novelty hasn't worn off for any of us. Although the occasional sore arm reminds us to swap sides more frequently! I swear we can see him growing every day.

Never too young to start garden appreciation

Of course, what would be coming home without a casual walk through the garden. I couldn't wait to show him everything out there. In a day of patchy weather, we were even fortunate to catch some afternoon rays too.

A fitting end to a tumultuous five days - or - so we thought...

Peter's Story - day 2

Day two of Peter's entry into life, would have been the hardest for me as a mother. I had given birth under traumatic circumstances, and just as my body and mind had a chance to clear from the blur, I'm faced with the reality there are babies crying in the maternity ward all around me, but none of them were mine.

My little boy was in the Special Care Nursery, with a feeding tube in his nose. Others were looking after him, and I had to press a buzzer to be allowed in to see him.  But see him we did.

Proud parents

David was as proud as punch, but I was still a cocktail of conflicting emotions. Here was our baby and I loved him immensely, but he hated the tube up his nose and I couldn't take it away from him.

Sweet siblings

Sarah got to meet her new brother for the first time in the Special Care Nursery, and she even got to hold him. We didn't get a photo because visiting hours were coming to an end.

A loving glance from Nan

There was still enough time for Nan (my mum) to have a cuddle though. If Peter's head looks a little blue, it was from the bruising he received during birth. It took a while for his normal colour to return.

I wasn't sure how much I should share about that day, as it was particularly difficult. Not only because I was mourning something I didn't entirely understand, but I realised the conflicting advice/communication with staff in the Special Care Nursery added to my woes.

Everything hinged on who was on the next shift. If they were all about "procedure", that is what happened to my son, regardless of what I had to say about it. If they were about working with the parents, then they worked your requests into the treatment plan. It was the kind of unnecessary confusion I didn't need.

As much as we could though, we tried to be there for Peter. David spent all day with me at the hospital, and even brought me food from home! He asked for two weeks off work, which was an absolute Godsend. I really appreciated his support. One of his female work colleagues has even offered us the use of her electric breast pump, as she's between children at the moment and wouldn't need it until the next one comes along.

So it's been somewhat of a mixed blessing time for us. Unfortunately, Peter wasn't discharged from hospital until five days later - I was discharged after four. But home he did come eventually, so the next entry for Peter's Story will be day five.

Coming home!

Peter's Story - day 1

It has been over a week since my "planned" induction date, but our son had other ideas of when to make his appearance. I was due to arrive at the hospital at 7.30am for the scheduled induction, but I woke that morning at 2am. There was mild cramping, but nothing which said labour was eminent. By 3.30am however, David was racing me to the hospital and they took me straight into the birthing suite.

37 weeks and 2 days gestation

This was the last photo taken of my baby bump, the night before. I wore this nightie, simply because both my suitable ones were already packed in my hospital bag. There was literally no time to change in the wee hours of the next morning. So imagine how embarrassed I was, when the midwife helped remove my robe at the birthing suite, and said: "now that's a raunchy outfit to wear for birth."

Believe me, I wanted to laugh along with her - she had no idea of the strange turn of events that had befallen me. I won't go into them, but it was like I knew he was coming (even though I was completely clueless) and things just "happened" to get us to hospital on time. Speaking of which, little Peter arrived just 40 short minutes after we got into the birth suite.

Peter William Riley, with Dad

a few minutes old

There was somewhat of a drama to his entry though. They couldn't find his heartbeat at first. I had one of those undignified births, where you're flat on your back and your legs are (well) kept out of the way, for want of a better description. But they had to place a sensor on his head to get a heartbeat. I kind of knew he was still with us, but the collective room breathed a sigh of relief when the machine started registering his pulse. There were quite a few medical people in the room by that stage too.

Meconium was found in the fluid, which was a sign he was in distress. Then when his heartbeat started dropping again, they wanted to get him out quickly. I was told to push, and when his head finally emerged, they pulled the rest of him out rather forcefully. I knew he would be okay (just as I always have - there's more to this story) and I still wonder if the medical intervention would have been necessary, had I arrived earlier and they were able to monitor him sooner. It's about their procedures and being able to document how labour progresses.

There was very little warning with Peter's birth though. Three hours passed between the first mild twinge, until he was born - and 30 minutes was spent driving to hospital, parking and getting to the birth suite!

A few hours old, dressed in my hand knits

He was average size though (nearly 4kgs) or 8 pounds, 6 ounces. I tried to breastfeed him in the birth suite. My poor muscles were shaking though and it was all a bit of a blur. The midwives conducted several heel-prick blood tests, and after 4 hours his blood-glucose level, hadn't managed to go over the 2.6 they like for newborns. So the Paediatric doctor came to our birth suite, and proposed taking him to the Special Care Nursery.

That is another story to tell about Peter's arrival though. He had quite an eventful first week of life...

The countdown!

So we have been booked for an induction at the hospital, next Thursday 16 May!

Free pattern, here

There is so much to do in the meantime. I'm not sure if I will finish knitting the blanket I have started, in amongst the other "to do's" on our list. I had to make it slightly bigger than the original pattern, didn't I? At least it may give me something to complete in the hospital after the birth. I hope we don't have to stay too long.

I am happy and scared. Come next Thursday though, we will know who this little bump has been in my ever expanding waistline. Every time he kicks, I think about Sarah and the days which led up to her birth. I asked the same thing - who will this little person be?

Surprise!

She is ten years old now and just had her birthday. She is pretty awesome and has her own mind. We chatted about this after school today, and she enjoyed hearing how I thought of her as a bump too, and wondered what she would end up liking and disliking. She is happily her own person, and knows the answer to my question, more than I. So who will her brother be next?

We will get to know, soon enough I hope. I can't wait to hold him to my cheek and inhale that sweet new baby smell.

Garden gone awry

 Red flowers of pineapple sage

One of the hardest daily aspects of this pregnancy, has been avoiding the garden. Nearly all of our garden is contained on a slope, or requires walking up a slope to reach flat land. In the six years we've lived here, I've only taken one serious spill down a slope. It was my own fault (a miscalculation) but when you're pregnant, any kind of fall down a slope can be potentially harmful.

So I did the right thing and only visited the immediate areas around the house, or waited for David to be home - that way, he could support me down the harder to access areas. Pregnancy is only for nine months though, so we've made do.

But oh, how I have missed the garden...truly...I stare at it through our windows, or from afar outside, and make all these plans in my head. I think about what I will do first, when I can run around and get tangled in the jungle again!

A heron, spied through our window

The plans aren't just in my head though, I'm working on putting them on paper. I'm not talking about placing a fruit tree here and a garden hedge there (the haphazard way I'm used to planning) rather I've got a full blueprint of stages of earthworks, remedial plant repairs and then permanent plantings - as I'm designing this system to maintain itself once it matures. We need a reliable garden, not just one that performs when the weather is being nice.

Kent pumpkin

I guess I tired of lamenting a lack of rain and fertility, because of where we live. Every year our growing plans are thwarted because we live in an environment of extremes. This year, it was our beloved Kent pumpkins; which have always produced a crop religiously - come rain or extreme heat! This year we got one!

 A gift

We were generously given a box of pumpkins by one of David's work colleagues, but I have to say - they tasted of nothing. I've made several batches of pumpkin soup, and not even the slow cooked chicken-stock, made it taste of anything remotely like pumpkin. Roasted, it still tasted like pale mush. It was that bland, it could easily be confused for choko! Which I have to say, even our choko's (growing over the chicken coop) had more flavour this year.

 I wish choko tasted like pumpkin - we'd be set!

We managed to produce a Ute load of chokos, sweet potatoes and a single pumpkin in our growing season. That's what haphazard planning can achieve, and we've taken our chances with that system long enough. Thankfully, I've done quite a bit of research as my bump has grown, and I can't wait to put that knowledge to use in the garden.

I'll explain the specifics once my diagrams are complete. I'm a visual aid learner, and need them to explain better. We're going to concentrate our efforts however, on the immediate areas around the house, and the land on the edges. If you're familiar with permaculture, this is often referred to as zone 1 & 2.


The key areas within these zones will address:


1. Capturing water run-off from the road and storing it in the soil.

2. Modifying how we manage the chickens.

3. Removing structures which aren't using the land to its maximum potential.

4. Implementing simple (non electronic) technology to boost soil fertility.

5. Reducing our energy demands on fossil fuels.

6. Stacking layers of natural energies/inputs, to support the environment.


It doesn't sound like a plan for growing better vegetables (where did I mention a veggie patch?) but they are the underlying issues we need to address first, that will ultimately resolve our problems with growing anything on our land.

I'm giving a generous time frame of 2-5 years to implement the new design, but it will probably take 10 years to be fully mature. I'm hoping to learn a lot from the process. In the six years of experimentation to date, we've already learned what doesn't necessarily work in our extremes - and that money thrown at a problem, doesn't necessarily solve it either.

Time we spend in the garden though, well that's always free. We're the avid experimenters - only this time, we're going to work within an integrated design.

It won't be long until winter arrives, which means a new baby and time frolicking/working in the garden again. Both things, I'm very much looking forward to!