an update on our blood….

It’s going to be a shit day. After experiencing my boy having to have a blood test its clear I don’t do well with hearing him in pain. His dad is definitely the stronger one so will be there on Monday holding my hand and being the amazing support we will both need.

Looking back through this process, it’s been long and arduous. Getting appointments, getting answers, understanding more about this condition, it’s all been a little stressful. But I truly believe that the world throws you things for a reason.

Through this process we have learnt that although my son has the all clear, I actually do have Von Willebrands Disease. I’m not a carrier, I actually have it.

It’s surprising to the Dr that through numerous surgeries I’ve had and through my labour, I never experienced a bleeding issue. I’ve had my tonsils, appendix and wisdom teeth out – all operations that do cause concern for people with VWD. Every time, I’ve been fine. I’m so thankful for this and it also gives me great hope for my little niece (who at 9 years of age, also has VWD to the same level that I do). She had a traumatic bleed after her tonsils were removed last year and the Dr has warned of issues surrounding her periods and surgeries moving forward. I have always had very light and easy to manage periods and no bleeds at all, so it makes me think, maybe she will be the same moving forward. I hope so.

So once again the universe has played its cards. Its provided me with a challenge and allowed me to come out the other side unscathed and with knowledge that I needed.

It’s a clever place this universe of ours….

Xx

A

our first family photo shoot

A couple of weekends ago, we had the pleasure of working with Sheena Cooke Photography to capture some pictures of our new little family. I am entirely un-photogenic and not very comfortable in front of the camera but Sheena managed to make us all feel completely at ease.

Archer didn’t need much help looking gorgeous but he was extremely sleepy so Sheena had her work cut out for her keeping him awake long enough to get some of the shots. She was amazing and I am so grateful for her being able to capture some truly lovely moments with my little family.

Here are some of my favourites…

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Thanks again Sheena… some of these are going straight to the pool room.

xx A

hi ho, hi ho…..

I spent the day in the office today. Not yet officially back from maternity leave, I went in to lend a hand to the very busy team and to make use of one the “keeping in touch” days I’m allowed during my maternity leave period.

It was nice….

It was nice to dress up and put on heels (unnecessary, but nice nonetheless).

It was nice to use my brain and once again connect to an industry that I love so much.

It was nice to feel needed by the team and to feel that I still have worth within my workplace.

So why do I feel guilty?

My son was at home spending the day with his Grandma who no doubt spoilt him with endless hugs and kisses. He probably had no idea I wasn’t even there. All he knows at this young age is hunger and love and both of those would have been taken care of in abundance. Yet I cant seem to shake that feeling in my stomach that being there makes me less of a mum.

Is it wrong, that only 7 weeks in, I’m ready for stimulation outside of my motherly bubble?

Society is making me feel like it is. I have found myself explaining my choices to complete strangers. Not only about today’s little workplace stint but also about my plans to return to the workforce part-time in August. “That’s not long off from work” people quip, “gosh, are you sure you’ll be ready?” numerous people ask. The truth of the matter is, financially we don’t have a choice. But even if we did, I’d be going back.

It will be with the needs of my son in the forefront of my mind and of course, things will need to adapt, but with or without the financial burden that forces my hand, I’m ready, even now, to get back into the workforce.

Intentional or not, many people have made me feel guilty. Made me question my decisions and my desire to return to work.

Too soon?

According to many, apparently so.judging copy

According to many, a new mum should be home (apparently for a year). For many, being out of the workforce is a relief and something to be relished. For many, the fact that I am going back to work sooner than most, makes me less of a mum. It’s a judgment that although I am sure is not intentional, has been felt.

Maybe it’s my interpretation, maybe it’s my over sensitivity, maybe it’s just how they feel.

I was never going to be the all-baking, crochet knitting, P&C mum. I love that other women  fill those roles; it’s just not me. I’m the mum that will juggle a meeting to make it to school assembly and a schedule a gig around his soccer game. I’m the mum who may have go to work some days but will spend others in PJ’s watching cartoons. I’m the mum who wants it all and isn’t afraid to try for it.

But he will always come first. He will always be my priority, but I can have my work too.

It doesn’t make me less of a mum.

Does it?

Xx A

questions for my son….

What will you look like? What will you smell like? Will you have your daddy’s hair and my skin? I picture you with a mop of dark locks and big brown eyes. Handsome like your daddy and pale skinned like me. I think you will smell like pure joy and the occasional bit of vomit but that’s ok, we’ll take the good with the bad.

Will you be as big as you feel inside my belly right now? You feel strong and long limbed. You’ve been trying to break my ribs for weeks now I’m sure of it. The doctors think you’ll be a very healthy sized baby but looking at your daddy’s build, that’s no surprise. Long legged like me and broad-shouldered like dad.

What will you be like? Calm like your daddy, slightly eccentric like me? A night owl with him or an early riser with me? My sister insists you will be a night owl, based on the series of kicks you give me from 7pm every night. A sign of things to come she says – an active baby belly at nighttime means trouble for your sleeping pattern. I think I’m ready either way. You haven’t let me sleep properly in weeks now, so my body feels prepared for late nights, early mornings and catching a nap wherever I can.

What will we do? My days will be so different to those I have now. I’ll have you to look after and I’m not sure exactly how that’s supposed to go. I see us taking some time to figure each other out but slowing falling into a routine that’s just for us. I think we’ll take walks to the beach and I’ll watch you sleep and when daddy comes home you’ll make him smile like no one else can. I know I won’t do all of it right every day. I’ll mess up along the way. There will be tears from the both of us but I promise I’ll do my best. I’m new at this too, but we’ll figure it out.

Where will you go? I bought a picture for your bedroom the other day. It’s a quote by Dr Seuss. “Oh, the places you’ll go” Dr Seuss proclaims. I know you’ll go far. You’ll have the drive of your mummy and the travel bug like your daddy, I’m sure of it. I don’t see you being a wallflower. Not with our genes. You’ll be bold and brave and want to challenge yourself and the world. Go everywhere. Do everything. Just make sure I know where you are.

What will you be? Whatever you want is the answer! If poppy gets his way, you’ll be the captain of the Tottenham Hotspur’s. If daddy teaches you well enough, you may be a famous guitarist. I think you’ll be creative and smart. I think you’ll leave your mark on the world as well as our hearts. I think you’ll be amazing at whatever you choose. I think you’ll always be yourself and that is perfection to me.

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What will I be like? Being your mum is a pretty big deal. I still can’t quite believe that I get to meet you soon and that you chose us to be your family. I feel full of something I can’t quite describe. It’s a fear of the unknown mixed with an almighty sense of joy and excitement about what our future holds. I never knew that I wanted you so badly, but now you are on your way, I have never been so sure of anything in my life.

I don’t know what I’ll be like as your mum. I know that I’ll work harder at this than I have ever worked on anything in my life. I know I wont be perfect but that I will give you the best I possibly can. I know that I will make sure you never go without and that you know you are loved every single day. I know that I’ll kiss you too often and probably embarrass you along the way. I know one day you’ll be taller than me but that I’ll still call you my baby. I know that I’ll be proud of you no matter what and that whoever you become I will support you. I know that from now until forever, you will be my son and I will be your mum. I know that I love you to the moon and back and you’re not even here yet.

I can’t wait to meet you.

Love your mummy. x

xx A

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/crissy/1077946/”>CrissyAlright</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

turning into a secret softie?

Those who read my blog often, know that I’m not the type of pregnant woman who gushes over her bump and finds the process of growing a baby to be some sort of divine experience. I’m more from the school of “can’t wait for the end product but could do without the being pregnant bit”.

I’m absolutely thrilled to be having a baby and cant wait to meet our little guy, but the whole being pregnant bit isn’t something I have really loved.

But I may have found one little part of it that I love.

It usually happens around 8.30pm each night.

I’ve usually had a busy day, running around for work and renovations and probably pushing myself harder than I should. I’ve usually just finished a quick dinner and finally sat down for the night to relax.

Within about 10 minutes or so, I feel it. It starts as a little nudge, usually on my right 5769573400_a7bdbf4f9f_zside. Then turns into an evening of rumble and tumble. My little dude trying to get comfy or find a way out through my belly button. Throughout the night he shifts and turns, occasionally kicking but mainly gently nudging, responding to the jingle of my harmony ball or the voice of his daddy through my belly.

Before I was pregnant, if another mother had spoken of being kicked in the belly by her unborn baby, I was a little grossed out. Even as my belly started to grow and I felt those first few kicks, I was a little freaked out by the soft flutters I would feel.  But soon, they became a part of my day; a lovely reassurance that my baby was doing well and getting strong. Going longer than a few hours without feeling a little nudge suddenly felt quite frightening.

Now, those moments at night when he rolls and rumbles inside my belly are some of my favourite moments of the day.

There’s something immensely connective about feeling your baby move, something that I didn’t quite understand before. It’s selfish, but also very warming to know that its something only you will ever feel. In a way, it’s the first real conversations you have with your child; a private moment that no one else can interrupt and take away.

So the hard woman in me may be softening. I wouldn’t say I’m going all “earth mother” on anyone anytime soon but I have definitely found one little aspect of pregnancy which turns me into a bit of a softie.

Sshhh… don’t tell anyone….

xx A

 

the lesson of miss nine and miss six

I’m spending tonight with 2 little munchkins. Miss Nine and Miss Six. It seems like five minutes ago they were Miss Four and Miss One. Where has the time gone?

It makes me think, it’s going to go so fast. In a flash, I’m going to have a Mr One and then a Mr

where has the time gone?

Four and before you know it, the little dude in my belly will be off to get a job and go to university and be a grown up. One day he’ll be Mr Thiry.

Bizarre.

A friend pointed out something to me the other day. We were talking about a weddings and the topic of mother of the groom came up. All of a sudden, it clicked for him. One day, I would be the mother of the groom. One day I will have a real life grown up son who is a MAN does adult things like working and getting married and even having babies of his own.

Bizarre.

Its kind of a permanent thing my mate suddenly said to me. Yep. Having a baby is totally permanent. No turning back. No giving it back. No backing out now. This is a job I’ll have forever. My Mr Peanut will be Mr Forty one day and I’ll still be his mum. Forever. I think I am in love with the idea. Forever. Not much is forever these days. But that. Yep, that’s permanent.

But, as I sit here with Miss Nine and Miss Six, I am filled with this sudden sense of time. How quickly it is going to pass and how precious it is.

Ever so quickly, little Miss Nine will be Miss Nineteen (I probably wont be as cool to her then) and Miss Six will be Miss Sixteen (and probably staying at my place as mum thinks she’s been at the library instead of the party down the road). I’ll be Miss Forty and my peanut will be Mr Ten.

Bizarre.

But alas, I can’t turn back time. Everyone knows not even Cher can do that. I can’t stop it either. So, the lesson Miss Nine and Miss Six are teaching me tonight is to treasure it. Each moment. Each year. Because before you know it, the years are gone and everyone is getting too old too fast and you cant get that back.

xx A

the tradition of tradition

With Christmas just around the corner, I’ve been thinking a lot about tradition. The traditions that we already have within our families and traditions that we want to pass on to our little guy.

Im a bit of a sop when it comes to tradition. Things in life can change so much and so often that having simple little consistent things with the ones you love, is warming to the heart.

In my childhood home, our traditions are not that traditional. We’ve never been that cookie cutter family to be honest. Silly things like chanting “Rip It Up” during gift opening, followed of course by a very passionate game of Steal a Santa (email me if you want those juicy details!), the obligatory booze up with left overs by the pool on Boxing Day and Dad and I making a punch (that no doubt leads to huge hangovers) are things that are traditional ours.

They’re not perfect, they’re not always everyones cup of tea but we love them and it makes our Christmas, well, our Christmas.

For our little family of 3, I want those traditions to continue. They are the basis of so many good memories for me and I hope they live on for years to come. But I’m also keen to create new family traditions. Things that our little dude will speak fondly of when he’s old and wise like me (insert chuckle here).

Will we be the family that gathers at the tree on Christmas Eve to sneak one little pressie? Will we be the family that buys that super special ornament for the tree each year? Or the family that heads to the Christmas Carols religiously, picnic blanket in tow.

Probably not.

I’d say our traditions will be more along the lines of those nutty ones I experienced growing up. Not quite proper. Not quite Martha Stewart. Not quite everyones cup of tea. But perfect.

I see laughter, fun, food and friends. I see my little dude being surrounded by people that shower him not in gifts, but love. Its always been that way in our families.

And that, might be the best tradition of all.

xx A