20130326-235126.jpg. Such a Daddy’s girl!

This week your highlight would definitely have to be going to a daddy’s cricket grand final. Daddy had to get you dressed, do your hair and pack your bag! You had a ball running around free with all of the other kids, climbing hills, running around and getting filthy. You did such a great job staying off the playing field once you understood what the witches hats were for. Blackwood cricket oval is the perfect place to play for you and mummy. Especially for me knowing there is only one entrance / exit and as long as I parked myself on a chair near there you were pretty much safe. You were also so very, very proud when Daddy’s team won. You were the FIRST person on the pitch, running full pelt into his arms screaming “YAY Daddy”. All in all pretty much a perfect day for us all!

My favourite 52 Project post from this week is from Lamb loves Fox. Such a gorgeous girl with a beautiful headpiece. I also love the photographic styling. I am such a point and shoot girl I would never have thought of only having part of a face / head, but this photo is perfect. This project is teaching me so much about photography!!!



Positivity ….. gone

I have turned into THAT pregnant lady. The one I never thought I would be, the one I never foresaw coming, the one I really, really, really don’t want to be. But I find that no matter how much I don’t want to be that woman I can’t actually stop myself being that woman!

I am crabby, I am sooky, I find myself constantly moaning, bitching and whinging. I know I am no fun for anyone, there is no sunshine bursting forth, no pregnant woman glow. I am sure people are sick of hearing me complain, listening to my bemoaning my situation, reading my negative texts. I know there are people in worse situations than me. Intellectually I know it’s not much longer and I can do it. However physically and emotionally I DON’T know any of this. I don’t feel it and no matter how much I try to logic myself into feeling it I just can’t. And I HATE it and really dislike myself for not being able to change it.

I have my reasons for feeling this way but truly I feel pathetic because they are pathetic and there are people living real problems that have it far worse than me. I could blame the hormones, but really what a cop out.

I am in agony. I mean true never ending agony, in the lower half of my body. I walk like I am just learning and a shuffle is the extent of my ability to move. Standing hurts, moving hurts, sitting hurts, lying down hurts. I take Panadol to help but it does nothing. I can’t take Panadeine Forte because I have a low tolerance and can’t pass out with a 4 year old in the house. This pain affects my ability to sleep and I find myself waking a few times a night having to get up and wander around to loosen up.

I am EXHAUSTED. The type of exhaustion that comes from being in agony all day every day for over a month mixed with an unhealthy dose of being unable to sleep. I’m existing on approximately 4 – 5 hours a night, broken of course. Between the constant urinating, the loosening up, the hand swelling that needs to be run under water, it doesn’t leave too much time for sleep. Then there is the insomnia that kicks in when I go to bed. The exhaustion I feel does not equal the ability to actually go to sleep.

One of the worst things is the tears. I find myself crying on and off during the day. Sometimes I know why, sometimes I don’t. I find when I speak to hubby on the phone I get off and then cry. I am lonely. I wish he was home all the time because when he’s here I feel less emotional. He is my rock and so supportive. But someone has to work. This is also in no way me trying to secretly complain about my friends. They are amazing and supportive. But people work, have lives, and other commitments. I also don’t want to be the needy friend who can’t leave the house but expects everyone to be at my beck and call.

I am housebound because even using the crutches it hurts to walk and I don’t get far because the pain gets too much or I get exhausted. I leave for Kinder drop offs and pick ups, and hospital appointments. I am finding driving is becoming hard and am hoping I can continue to the end just for these short trips.

But in all honesty I know what the biggest cause is. It is the blatant disregard that I am being shown by most medical professionals I have the “pleasure” to deal with. I leave appointments, and more recently emergency, feeling as if I don’t exist. That my person has been relegated to a baby baking machine (or an incubator as per this post) and that my needs, health and suffering are of no consequence. It is demoralising to know health care professionals can actually see the pain and exhaustion I am suffering, comment on it, and yet also disregard it out of hand. It is hurtful to hear a doctor answer my husbands question of “how much does she need to suffer” with an answer that amounts to “as long as the twins are OK who cares”. It is frustrating to hear that EASTER is the reason why I must wait a week longer in pain than is usual and to hear one of my obstetricians discuss a woman due the day before me being shown consideration and being given a date much earlier than mine, a woman with no complications at all. It makes me feel as if I don’t matter. It also makes me feel as if I am being selfish if I so much as think of complaining about anything that is occurring in my body.

The worst feeling I am suffering though is guilt. The guilt of not being able to parent my 4 year old daughter the way I want. That I can not fully be there for her in the way she deserves. I feel guilt and shame about the decline in the appearance of my home and that the onus of the upkeep falls to my husband who already does so much and takes on more than he really should have to. I feel I am letting down the two people who mean the most to me, no matter how understanding they are, how supportive, how loving. Sometimes that just makes me feel worse.

And all of the above are the things that I whinge, moan and complain about. These are the things I am sick of experiencing, sick of sharing, sick of living. It’s all too much at the moment and I am really not handling it all that well. I know how I feel is not healthy or productive. It is not helpful but it is also not something I seem to be able to help. I know it is not normal to feel this way and will raise it with someone at my next appointment but am not confident I will be heard. I wish I could just snap out of this funk, brush it off and get over it. I wish it was that easy. I also wish that a part of me, a strong part, did not get so disappointed in my current state, did not want to slap it out of me. Usually I am so strong, so confident, so together (if only outwardly) and I am proud. Usually too proud to even admit that I am not coping. Usually I will say I am fine when I am not because I find it easier to deal on my own, or with my husband who in all honesty is the only person I would usually share so much with (no use hiding it he can always see it, he knows me too well inside and our). I am also scared of being judged, of appearing weak.

This post, although cathartic, scares me more than anything I have written. This post is the absolute commitment to my promise about my blog, my reasons for writing a blog. This post reflects me truly in this moment and is more honest than I have been with most people around me lately. There are parts people close to me know, the people I trust to listen and not judge (not that others will, the trust issue is mine alone) but this is it all laid out bare in one setting. This post scares me so much it is currently a draft set to publish later in the week. I need time to be brave or to decide this post was just for me, to vent.

I hope I am brave enough to share and that you get to read this …

I have decided to post this because for weeks this is how I have been feeling. Today however, I am feeling more positive. In 2 weeks the bubbas will be here, the weather was beautiful today, and even though I am in a lot of pain I have also managed to remember those things for which I am grateful. I hope this change stays.

Thank you to Wildchildonboard for saving this post. It somehow deleted but not before it was sent to her Feeddler RSS app. I owe you. It wasn’t until it was gone that I realised no matter how mixed up my emotions were about it and sharing it, it was important to me!


The Selfie Queen Strikes Again!!!

You love photography and especially taking photos of yourself. I think that’s why Santa bought you your very own iPod, to give Mummy’s phone a break! This one included your Aunty Kim but I forgot to ask her permission to use her image so she’s been cropped out.

Things are getting harder for me, especially in the moving department, which means things are getting much harder for you too. We now spend the days doing craft, drawings and playing games like Pop Up Pirate and Snakes and Ladders. The cold, rainy weather also doesn’t help either as you now can’t go out and run off all that energy you have playing with the dogs. Not long now and your brother and sister will be here, I know the wait is killing you as much as me!

My favourite 52 project from last week (10/52) is from Raising Men, Finding Me. The concentration and slight brooding of these boys, as well as the craft of photography being used, is stunning.



Look mum a leaf! So excited at Kinder pick up

The last couple of weeks have seen you develop this cheeky little laugh that always means you are up to mischief, it’s so funny to hear, such a delight. We survived our first week home together, although it didn’t start on the best of terms, after a couple of days we settled into a routine and got re-used to each other’s ways. I am so glad we will have this year together before you go to school next year, even if soon we will have to share our time with your siblings.

My favourite post from last weeks 9/52 project entries was from Hello Sisilia. Young man Oliver with those gorgeous big brown eyes just stole my heart!


Not Just An Incubator!


I was looking forward to my 32 week appointment at the hospital. This was the appointment where my caesar was to be booked, or so I had been told by every obstetrician and midwife I had seen leading up to this point. It was an “overbook” appointment meaning two doctors would be in attendance. I agreed that a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Caesar) was too risky with twins (two lots of pushing putting double the strain on my previous scar) and as I like to be organised (not that you can tell looking at my house a lot of the time but I swear its true) getting this date was reassuring for me. Of course I also understand twins can come early so this date was just an “if not before” booking.

I was somewhat confused when I was called in and there was only one obstetrician but thought I had gotten that part of it wrong when we began the paperwork for the caesarian. It wasn’t until the obstetrician began wrapping up the appointment I asked about the date. I was given the idiotic very helpful answer that “someone will call you sometime to arrange that”.. Yes that is a direct quote. No, really, a direct word-for-word quote. I questioned this as my paper schedule I was given at my very first appointment, and everyone else I had seen, had told me something very different. He was adamant. “So can you at least give me an approximate date please, I have a four year old at home I need to organise, and my husband’s work to inform?” I asked very politely (a warning sign for anyone who knows me. Just like my Dad, the more polite I get the greater I am getting pissed off and the more trouble there will be). Normally elective caesars are booked for the Friday of the 37th week apparently and so I was looking at around the 29th of March.

Now here is the problem with that date, it’s Good Friday. This is not a problem for me but is for the hospital apparently. “Don’t worry we’ll just push you out to 38 weeks” I was cheerily informed.

OK now here’s my problem with that solution:
1. I seriously don’t think I can physically make it to 38 weeks even if the twins can. I’m already on modified bed rest (no bed -unless I want to lol – but very limited activity) and I have to use crutches because of my pelvic instability.
2. I hate when plans change when they’ve been considered set (I know not good but it’s true)
3. I will admit it was also a big excitement killer, or let down, to have another week just whacked onto the end willy-nilly

I did try to explain point one as eloquently as possible, without crying as I know that wouldn’t help, but knew it wasn’t doing any good. Either he couldn’t or wouldn’t adjust the date.

So here is what has me most upset and just a little angry. I DO NOT want these precious bubbas to come before it is safe for them to do so. I DO NOT want my pain, discomfit or inability to basically move put them in a position where NICU or special care was required. I definitely DO NOT want my impatience excitement to meet them to put them at risk. However there must certainly be a time where it is agreed my babies are in the good to go zone and my physical, mental and emotional health can then become a priority too, yes? If 37 weeks is full term for twins what is the difference between 36 +6 and 37 +1 (original thought for date)?

What upset and angered me most was that I left feeling that my pain and inability to move very far was not a consideration. What I felt was that I was a vessel carrying two precious bundles, a thing with no rights or feelings, some thing not to be considered. And I am definitely NOT JUST AN INCUBATOR!

What do you think? Am I over reacting, hormonal, or selfish? Or am I justified in these thoughts? Or is it somewhere in between?



Sitting pensively contemplating life

This week was a big one for you Miss Niamh. It was your last week of child care. Although there were no tears and you were excited about being home with mummy, you were also nervous about whether you would see your friends again (I promise you will). You were also excited about the amazing cake Daddy made you for your last day.

This week saw you very cuddly and loving. I have lost count of the number of times you have told me you love me and how many hugs we’ve shared, how many snuggles, how many quiet moments of just holding hands. You’ve been quieter than usual, I can see your brain tick over, but you say you are “fine mummy I’m just quiet”. I’ll be here if you need me but I can see you need to work through this yourself xoxo

There was a suggestion this week on the Che and Fidel page for this 52 a week project. Tag on each of your project blogs your favourite post from the week before. I thought that was a brilliant idea and will be including this from now on! So, with no further ado: My favourite 8/52 addition from last week came from Dreaming of the Country. There is something so precious about a babies feet!