Goodbye 2010

As the new year rolls in, as do resolutions and self-promises. Drinks go down, there are New Years kisses... Others staring to the skies wondering when they'll get theirs...

This time a year ago I was in bed asleep, roughly 1 month pregnant (little did I know) and my phone was on silent. I was alone.

This year I am sharing my bed with my girl, my stomach is full of banana smoothie and a handful of cold marshmellows. My eyes are heavy, it's hot outside. I'm not drunk nor am I wanting to be.. That was 2 years ago. That was when it was exciting to be drunk. When I wasn't content with who I was.

While my loved ones are off getting kisses at 12; I will be listening to Addi sniffles and I will kiss her, I will tell her I love her and that this year coming will be the beginning of the rest of our lives.

So goodbye to pain, expectations and sitting in the back. Goodbye to texting and waiting, asking and being let down.

Hello to being in control, being missy's #1 and making the most of it. Hello to solids and crawling and longer hair, walking and talking... shoes with soles, jeans with zippers and hair ties. Hello to conversations and hugs and kisses...

A new year, a new attitude; and it wasn't forced nor was it expected but here I am, not drunk and extremely content and proud of my tiny wee Addi- oh and myself :)

Changes

My mind has shrunk..

As has my bladder.

My stomach has grown and can fit quite a lot in it... My boobs aren't as welcoming, my cellulite is here to stay. My patience is more, my hair is falling. My memory is just that, as are sleep ins. My words don't string together all that easily any more and I need to write lists, to write lists.

But my house is a home; my arms hold a smiling almost-four-month old. My legs carry us both. My showers may be shorter but there is always singing and talking in the bathroom as I watch my Noo through the glass door, holding her feet (thanks for the Christmas presents everyone but these override them all!!) and rocking in her bouncer waiting patiently for me.

There are Addi giggles and 3 sneezes now (not just 2!), a fairy princess tent and musical toys here and there. Books and touching of things with hands and toes... Things being picked up and thrown, "mum"s, spews and 'oh Addi!'s, 'you okaaaay?'s after coughs... Bibs, dribbles.. Dresses and long summer naps...

"Doing it alone" is out-right BS. I'm not alone; we are here for eachother and I am so grateful to have a best friend in my baby- because she is. She makes me laugh, smile, cry... She lets me talk to her, and I listen to her. I look after her and I'm sure she'll look after me one day soon.

My beautiful Noo, it's all for you xx

Happy Birthday, Nana

This post is relative to Addi; but it's not about her.

My beautiful Nana, you would be one year older if you were still walking with us.

You would have given me a breath-taking hug (they literally were the biggest hugs I have ever had; back cracking) if I came over. I would have walked through your gate; been tickled by your giant pink roses-which you were so proud of... I would of smelt your perfume; Anais Anais, from a mile away. I would have almost walked on the grass that I learnt to skip on but would have stuck to the concrete pavers. I would have eyed up the huge bronze bell with a rope hanging out of it, by the door. You would have said "Ahoo" as you saw me. You would have slowly walked to the door and given me that hug.

You would see my girl; named after you. You would look at her the way you looked at me; the way I still see you looking at me. You would have spoken to me ever so softly and you would be listening to Yanni on the wee stereo (that I have too). There would be your knitting bag on the floor and your blue carpet would still feel the same under my feet, as it did 7 years ago when I last walked on it. I would see the "Ballerina" flowers out your window, the same as the ones tattooed on my neck. The overwhelming smell of Anais Anais and cigarettes would take me back into your arms. Your piano would be behind me, going un-played for never too long. Your artwork floods the house, the paintings on the wall smile at me and I smile back. The naked ladies aren't so funny anymore.

I walk around your house, padding the carpet, admiring the naked ladies, seeing the photo of you at an age where the only wrinkles were in your clothes; blue eyes as cold as the sea staring back but a smile as warm as an open fire, is balancing out your face. I walk into the bathroom; there is a yellow light throughout the room from the sun falling through the yellow windows. The carpet changes to lino. The bath is empty apart from a loofah, and the mirror reflects a woman who has birthed your great granddaughter, and no longer a young teen. The soap on the bench smells purely of soap, and the shower is hidden behind the open door behind me. I remember your toilet roll holder; if you pulled the paper too fast then the entire toilet roll emptied onto the floor- at age 4 it was the most amusing thing for me, although not for you or mum. The toilet roll holder made music- honestly it did. The most beautiful, haunting song I have ever heard- oh what I would give to hear that now.

I leave the bathroom, I look back into the lounge and you are watching Addi; not staring or talking to her, but watching her, be her. The way you watched me crawl, walk, skip... I wander into your bedroom and hello, more naked ladies on the wall. I have seen that painting so many times in the past 7 years and every time I see it; I can smell you. Your wardrobe doors hide so many clothes, and not many shoes. Your dresser-top houses impulse sprays, pearls and jewels; and your Anais Anais is hiding somewhere. Your massive roses are outside the window and there is the gate I walked through. That bed... How warm and soft it was; how billowy the duvet. I have one of your feather pillows and it still smells of you. Your night light is plugged in, although it now shines on at Mum and Sam's house. I touch everything. I slowly walk back past you and your watchful gaze (which is of course, fixed on Addi) doesn't break. I am in your kitchen, I sit on the green velvet and dark wooden chair which goes with the rest of the dining table set. I remember you; as I always do when something gives me shivers, makes me cry with happiness, or when someone breaks my heart- that is when I get lost in the memory of your hugs. Excitedly, I remember the "Fairy Drawer"; your tea towel drawer where the Fairies used to hide sweets for Sam and I. I open it; Hello Wine Gums and Raspberry Sparkles; Fruitbursts and Rolo's... Your shopping list is full but I can't make out one word of it which is probably a good thing because I bet somewhere there it says Sparkles and Wine Gums.

I walk back and see where Granddad's armchair still sits; you sat there the last time I saw you. Granddad has been gone for a long time now; although I remember you best, I remember snippets of Granddad and my conversations. I remember I had a Koosh Ball and it had a plastic Mouse Head and tail sticking out of it; I asked Granddad what I should call him. Granddad said "Parsley". I miss you both terribly.

The last thing you said to me was "Give your mum a hug for me"; September 2003. I gave her that hug, and every time I hug her I give one to her from you.

I couldn't go to your funeral, Nana. I don't know if I regret it or not. I was so young and in shock; not aware of how I felt, or maybe I was, I just wasn't so good at handling it. The weeks for a while, were cold and lonely. You only lived 5 minutes walk from Dad's house. I would have wanted to say something, to express how much I love and loved you; but at that time, no words could have really been strung together to make sense.

This time last year, Addi was conceived. I know you had a part in that, and I love you even more for it. This little girl has your eyes. I don't know if they'll stay blue but blue is yours, and I want you to have something in common that I can see every day.

I hope to visit your memorial stone today. In a perfect world (where appointment times didn't matter and babies didn't have needs) I would go to your house and snip off some of those cloud-like roses, and take them with me. I would dig out the entire plant if I could and cuddle up to it at night- perfect world again!

You were perfect, Nana. You were nothing less. You were gentle, warm, kind, friendly, happy... you were my favourite persons', favourite person. I am now someones favourite person; and it is the best feeling in the world. So thank you, infinitely, thank you.

I have your perfume; Addi is named after you, your flowers are on my neck... I have tried to put you everywhere... But in this world- although it's not perfect... You *are* everywhere, without me even trying.

I love you Nana.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubTveCihjoQ

My Shinoosh

13 weeks ago, I was sitting in the same place. I was breathing through the contractions and swearing at your dad while he was in my bed sleeping.

I was on the phone to the midwife and I told her I was coming in. She said okay, leave at 12am.

I was on facebook talking to Tiffany and Trish had gone to sleep I think. They had gotten me through the last 14 hours.

The contractions were scary and crippling. Although I can't remember

the exact pain or how bad it was, the only way to describe it is to think of those toys-

when you press the bottom, the whole body falls down. Every contraction was like that but you're trying to hold yourself up/in the same position, trying to breathe, trying to keep your energy... Doing everything to keep calm.

I reheated the beanbag numerous times that evening, and ate copious amounts of iceblocks that were stashed in the back of the freezer. Your dad bought me BK for afternoon tea and the midwife came and checked on me twice that day, didn't check anything physically but felt you and still wasn't sure how you were laying although I knew :).

A man came to nail down the roofing (last thing you want while in labour!) and he didn't really fix the problem. Each gust of wind blew the tin up and down; sounded like Chewbacca.

I spoke to mum a few times, and also dad. I was wearing a white skirt and my birthing tops. I ended up having my waters broken and was still wearing that skirt- which is now ruined but also not ruined at all, if you get me.

For 9 months you were my Peach; you got hiccups numerous times a day and kicked me until they went. You liked Loyal by Dave Dobbyn and you also liked the radio when I was driving. And then you were Addi; so alert, so quiet and slow. You held onto your wind and wouldn't part with it; and hiccups became routine after each feed. I had bad baby blues and you got me through.

You are now Shinoosh or any other name that comes out of my mouth. I like kissing your nose and hearing you snort. You ignore me when I kiss you; you turn your head away. You like being UP or DOWN; no half-ass business or being carried like a baby. You whinge when I turn the tv off. You burp like a trooper and fart like your dad. You sneeze twice and hate being wrapped unless you are in the *exact* right state of sleepiness. You cry if me or dad leave your sight but if we say "I'm still here" then you calm down. The smell of your head makes my mouth water.

You are in love with the painting of me on the wall. You hate headbands and hoods on jackets. You have the legs of an athlete and I am jealous. You talk when you're frustrated and you've always got to have the last word (genetics...). You smile when you catch me getting sidetracked with something else and the bottles fallen out of your mouth; woops. You haven't fallen off the change table but you can roll over. You say mummummum although it's not on purpose it still counts. You have a 'food face'- your lip sticks out and goes all hard. You sleep 10-12 hours each night and if you don't, like mum, you're grumpy the next day.

You are "going to be a handful" my beautiful, smart, funny little girl. Which is why us mama's, we're made with two hands:)

You are 3 months and becoming more and more you every day.

My promises still stand, my arms will always be open and I will always be behind you.

You are infinitely loved.

Hope

As the aftershocks continue; as the fear fades, the shock is still there. Each rumble is new. Each heart-stopping CRACK is just as sickening as the last. Even though we know they will still come; they are not comforting, nor will they ever be.

Addi's smiles are comforting, they are infectious, they are soul-warming. Aftershocks are not. We all know earthquakes can and have caused deaths. Smiles haven't.

I don't know what it is with the saying "Have Hope"... Because even if we don't have it, things are still out of our control. Heartache is out of our control; if it was controllable then it wouldn't be heartache.

To be let down is the same as experiencing aftershocks. They are BOTH new and sickening, although inevitable and out of our control. We can have hope but they both are going to keep happening. They are both uncomfortable to experience and although we get used to them, they are still shocking.

So far, in my life, Addi is the only person who hasn't let me down. As far as I know, I haven't let my mother down either. Maybe it's a thing between parents and their babies, some unspoken rule. Who knows.

Addi wee'd all over the changing table before.

Maybe every repetitive act is comparable to an aftershock; just some are sickening and others are smile-worthy.

84 days

It has been 84 days, almost to the hour, since I met you.

You have changed my life. I was ready, I was waiting, and now I am in love.

Right now you are asleep. You took a wee while to get to sleep tonight but that's okay, you are allowed to want snuggles. I must admit sometimes I need them too. You don't always want them, most times you pull away and look at me as if to say "Muuuum dooooooooooon't" and you scrunch up one side of your face. Which is cute but please let me cuddle you some more until you outgrow my arms.

I still fit in my mummies arms; very well, at that. I also fit in my dads arms and sometimes I like to check and make sure.

You laughed for the first time, last night. I was bouncing you on my knee and you spurted a bit of milk out down your neck so I whipped you over to get you cleaned up and as I was rubbing your neck under your ear (mummies sensitive spot, also) you giggled. I had my face close to yours so it was even louder and clearer than it would have normally been.

Again, I am ready and waiting for another laugh from those sweet little lungs. Which can also be quite nasty at times when I'm taking too long to get you dressed or fed... SORRY ANGEL!

I promised myself I would try my best to never let anyone hurt you. That smile melts my heart, and now that laugh - well, I am considering welding onto you, a suit of armor and a shield because you are so beautiful that guys are going to be falling at your feet in no time. I am ready and waiting for the day I have to kick some teenage arse to protect you! I can do that; I don't care if it's not right.

I had a playlist on my iPod for when I was in labour. It had my favourite songs by Coldplay, Band of Horses, Citizen Cope and all sorts on it. I never got to listen to it but now it puts you to sleep. I have set up the speakers around your cot.

This post isn't really anything wonderful because its almost 2 am. But *you* are wonderful. You are full of wonder, love, smiles, and now giggles. You are beautiful, my baby girl, and I will continue to say it until you tell me to stop. I will say it so much that it will seem normal to you; and when you meet a man who says it genuinely- I will approve.

Right where is my welding kit...

That Painting

Going Out ...

2005:

School= 30 mins of getting ready, plucking eyebrows, making sure that mascara was on enough but not so much that I looked like I swung for the girls team (all girls school).
Boys high dances= 2 hours of getting ready, attempting avocado facemasks in a last ditch attempt to get rid of 'that blackhead', carrot and yoghurt leg soaks to 'soften the hairs' before shaving...

2010:

Where the heck do I start? First off, I'm hungry. And if I had an avocado I sure as hell wouldn't smear it on my face; I'd smear it on some crackers. Or toast.

I do my mascara in the car at the lights and usually get tooted at. It takes me a good hour or 2 to properly get dressed, do my 'face' (minus eyes) and hair. I don't get 'dolled up' (eyeshadow, really) unless I'm on the prowl or going to have a couple of drinks; which is a VERY rare occasion.

Whilst getting ready, Addi is either:
Asleep, and manages to wake up whilst I am half ready - e.g. one eye is done, half of my hair, either lack of top or lack of bottoms....
OR
Awake and *okay* for a bit, then gets grumpy, and the above happens.

She's not an inconvenience, it's just so funny how 5 years ago I got so much more done in 2 hours than I do now.

But then again, if I did *only what I needed to do* then it would have taken a lot less time. In saying that, 'doing my face' isn't really a necessity but it also *IS* at the same time if people don't want to die from eye poisoning.

It's odd how many animals one can resemble in a day.

6am: Panda
9am: Cat (SENIOR NOT KITTEN)
Lunch time: carnivorous lion
4pm: All of the above
6pm: carnivorous lion but being cat-like in the fact she is too lazy/busy cleaning to eat so will just whine about it
8pm: monkey grooming its young
10pm: Sleepy kitten
And so on.

I have gone off on a tangent which is what I'm good at but the point to all this rambling is that things change so much when you have a baby/when you become a mother. Addis needs and wants are more important than my face but I'll always try to look my best.

I was never a 'drinker' or a 'social butterfly', although I can be when necessary, so I don't have anything to miss getting ready for.

But when the time comes, I will be sooo grateful to get ready for something! I would love to have a weekend away from dishes, and washing, and boring things. I wish Addi and I could go away somewhere nice and relaxed and new, and get to have lazy fun times together. One day :) It is never too late.

Giving Thanks

Here in NZ, Addi, we don't really celebrate Thanksgiving.

But every day, I tell you I love you. I tell you I am thankful for being your mum.

I tell you I dreamed of you, I saw you, I felt you, I carried you, I fell in love with you; I met you.

I kiss your head, and breathe in your beauty. In the shower, I watch the water droplets play on your skin, I watch them do ballet; and I wonder if you'll ever do ballet like your NanNan did.

I wonder if you'll always like the water, or if, like me, you'll only like certain types of water. I hate the ocean; the idea is nice but in reality I'm not so keen on seaweed flapping about my legs. I will take you to the ocean and you can splash in the water, but someone else will have to take you deeper; one day.

I wonder if you'll like to read and write like I do. I wonder if the smell of old, new and even library books will make your mouth water.

I hope you find silence in this loud world and listen to yourself.

I wonder whether you will put those strong arms and legs to use, and enjoy sport. If you don't like sport (I didn't, and don't) then we will just have to get you a trampoline.

Sometimes I wish things were different. I sometimes wish I owned a house that we could make 'home'. I wish I brought you into a world where people are pleasant and genuine, where cats don't have claws and dogs don't poop on the lawn. A world where NanNan isn't unwell, and daddy doesn't work so much. A world where I'd have extreme amounts of milk to feed you as much as you need, and every item of our clothing washed itself.

But in reality; I rent our house. You are what makes every house; home. People are rude, selfish and obnoxious but some can also be pleasant and genuine. As long as those people aren't rude or cruel to you, then solely focus on their goodness, baby girl. Cats have claws, and even though Sophie doesn't scratch, in a few months time those claws may make a comeback. Dogs poop, lucky we don't have one. I don't have all the milk you need but the supermarket lends a helping hand/tin when you need it. Your clothes need to be hand washed; luckily I don't have anything else to do but make sure you are clean and comfortable and happy :).

And my clothes- well, as long as they smell fine, then they are fine.

Addi you are my greatest achievement. You aren't an exam, or a recipe I've had to follow; you are a journey. Your birth was the birth of me, too. I am no longer who I was. Parts of me remain, my cellulite is still there, my feet grew bigger but are now 'back to normal', my habits are still the same.... But I have more passion, more patience, more understanding, more time, more smiles, more stupid voices, more tears, more enthusiasm, more happiness...

I have more you, and because of you; I am more me.

Thank you.

sweet lullaby

Addi's wind up Peter Rabbit musical toy 'thing', is on its last legs. It is making a weird clicking noise.

Her dragonfly fairy lights are half blown.

Her mobile is probably going to crap out soon too.

Which means this whole 'getting her to sleep' routine will change, once more.

Will I have to try even harder? Will I have to sing, every time, to get her to sleep? Will it all become even more 'real'?...

Will I get even less time to myself?

Don't get me wrong, please, I love being the 'thing' that gets her to sleep. I just like having Peter to back me up, or the trusty dragonflies, even the 'spoonful of sugar' tune from her mobile is a huge help... But soon it'll be just me.

Batteries run out, motors die, lights blow; what in gods name will happen to me?!

I don't know, just rambling. It is nice to be relied on; I am her world- and she is mine, but who can I rely on, really?...

Nothing helps me sleep, apart from tiredness. Which is quite a real thing... so I don't really need assistance anyway.

Speed

10 weeks, sitting on mum in bed

7 days, laying on mum at grandads

Eating your foot, 34 weeks

My girl,

you are more than just '10 weeks old';
you are beautiful,

you are funny,

you are asleep,

you are strong,

you are clever,

you are cuddly,

you are extremely easy to love,

you are 'going to be a handful'- good thing I have two hands then!

You are dramatic. You stick your bottom lip out and say "WAH" and look at me, when you're frustrated. When you sneeze, you roll your eyes. When you cough, it's an 'excuse me while I choke/ahem, ahem' type cough. When I let you cry sometimes, I give in and cuddle you, and you do what I do- you stop crying but you struggle to catch your breath. I don't know if any other babies do that but I find it a bit surreal how similar we are.

You have a new fascination with a portrait of me (when I was little) that is on the wall. I am tempted to put it on your ceiling. You smile at it. You don't smile at anyone unless they are smiling at you or talking to you, yet you smile at a watercolour painting of an 8 year old version of your mother. You also have been in love with a certain corner of our lounge, where the family photos are. Your great Nana (who you are named after, and who has passed) is in a photo there, I love that photo and clearly so do you.

I can't help but laugh when your bottom makes magnificent noises. I don't really care if no one else finds it funny; I am determined to raise you in such a way that you don't take life too seriously. I won't ever let 'that thing' happen to you; when you look back and say you wish you'd smiled more, laughed more, cried more. I will encourage you to feel everything and say what you feel. I will encourage finger painting and (secret) nose picking.

Your baby books are filling up so fast, baby girl. The strange thing is that you are 'only 10 weeks', you are only in 'infant' nappies, your clothes are 0-3months, your feet are XS and OSFA- doesn't fit you, but you are so grown up already.

I wrote you promises when I first saw you on the TV on the wall, in black and white, when you were Peach.

*I promise to hold you, but not hold on to you.
*I promise to see things from your eyes, before mine.
*I promise to put you first in all situations.
*I promise to give you a voice when you can't speak.
*I promise to teach you values and to let you live by your own, not mine, unless you believe in them too.
*I promise to love you unconditionally.
*I promise to respect you and listen to you, always.
*I promise to laugh with you, cry with you and learn with you.
*I promise to stay strong for you and be the best role model.
*I promise to stand up for you if no one else will.
*I promise to be here for you whenever you need me. I will lead until I need to follow.

I love you Addi, you are so beautiful; you are so everything.

Strength

Mum found me like this earlier today!

And then she put me on my tummy while she made my bed

Addi has learnt how to spin herself around in bed.

She has also learnt how to kick off something (say if I'm about to give her a bottle, holding her in my arms with my legs crossed and her feet are against my thigh) and she kicks so hard her entire body goes stiff and arches... It's so strange how strong she is. She is still so small, yet I really don't think she's still in 'baby mode'.

She is so clever, she does indeed have me wrapped around her finger, but I'm her mum! I'm meant to be wrapped around her finger. Her finger is so tiny and cute, I'm glad to be wrapped around it.

Ode to Addi

The clouds are your mobile,
the sun is your blanket.
The birds are your friends,

and the grass is your mattress.

The moon is your night-light,

the stars are your compass.

The hill is your mountain,

the playground; your fortress.

Is your hair long,

Or as short as you'd like?
Are you wearing a dress,

are you riding a bike?

The wind is your hairbrush,

the rain keeps you clean.
The beach is your sandpit,

and the crabs are not mean.

There are sharks made of rainbows,

and dolphins are pink.
The waves can get angry,

if you try empty the sink!

Are you covered in fur,

or slimy wet scales?
Do you have 4 legs,

can I see a tail?!

Are you your age,

or an older Addi?
Are you the goody,

or are you the baddy?

You're now getting sleepy,

your eyes are so heavy.
I'll put you down here,

next to your teddy.

You'll see me soon,

so don't cry for me.
Go to sleep, baby,

enjoy your dreams.

Love, mama.

I read somewhere...

this quote:

"I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free."

Ever since reading it, I feel free, peaceful... Even more content.

I *hope* (oops) I can raise Addi with the same view on things.

Time

"Milky Chin" gets her everytime.

9 weeks ago I was on this very couch, typing away, trying to forget the pain.

Each contraction was like this: When you're not in pain, you can't remember it. But then as soon as you think that... well.. you do more than remember it. You don't get enough time to reminisce on the pain (not that that sounds very appealing anyway!) because it comes back around so fast.

I typed when they hit, because it kept my hands busy; I didn't know what to do with them. It didn't mean they weren't painful! But I had some amazing friends online who kept me busy and I am SO thankful and so so so grateful for every minute they spent talking to me to get me through. I would have gone insane if it weren't for you wonderful ladies; you know who you are :)

I wrote my birth story in the form of a poem. Partly because I didn't want to relive the entire saga word by word, or sugar coat anything, or make out that I was a hero and he was anything but. I basically just want to forget the bad bits and remember the 'good bits'. I'm allowed to do that!

This time 9 weeks ago (11pm) I was working up the courage to call my midwife and tell her I'm coming in to hospital. I had spent all day dithering about, wondering whether to call her now or in 10 minutes "when they got worse" etc. Looking back I really wish I just called her and abused her but never mind! 12am and I went into hospital. 10 minutes before that my entire world stopped before my eyes and I died a bit more inside... But I won't go into that... Different story!

I am so, so unbelievably grateful to have this girl of mine. We have so much ahead of us and I can't wait to see who she becomes. I've bought a book on graceful parenting so let's put that to use huh!

Here is my wee claim to fame (ish) :

http://www.birthstories.co.nz/2010/11/birth-poem.html

Air

Wondering whether it's safe to fall back asleep yet...

Ah yes, it's safe now :)

Mummy took me for a walk today.

She walked and walked and walked until her legs hurt but she keeps telling me how nice it was to finally be out in the fresh summer air with me.

I didn't really like the fact my 'pram' (I don't know what a pram is but apparently its the name of one of the things I sleep in) had little suspension and I felt every wee stone. It woke me up lots but I found comfort in seeing mum just infront of me, so I fell back asleep.

Mum loves ducks, she could watch them all day if I wasn't so easy to watch instead... She is particularly fascinated with their bottoms and how they sway back and forth when walking. She thinks my bottom is just as cute, so that's okay, I won't get jealous.

We went to Nannan and Uncle Sams for tea and I had a big sleep in Nannans bed which was nice of me because mum got to spend lots of time with them while I didn't need her. I woke up just before she sat down to eat, but I just sat in my capsule and mum rocked me while she ate.

I've been up and down all evening and Mums going to feed me again soon before she goes to sleep. It's been a very long day.

To Addi

Pain

Looking back into my labour and birth memories, none are positive apart from when I met my girl.

And I *hate* that. I do. It could have been so much better, I could have been so much stronger if I had the right support, if I wasn't crying with emotional pain and losing all my energy over someone else other than myself or my baby.

Not sure if it's possible to have regrets over someone else's actions, but if it is possible, I'm feeling it right now. I wish I could go back and be stronger, stand up for myself and shout at *him* a bit louder after everything he made me feel- but who can shout after 30+ hours of labour?

Even when I was pushing Addi out, I held my breath. I looked the other way. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't look anywhere. I kept crying and it wasn't from pain, it was from him. It was the sheer sadness I was feeling, the final 'it's over' after so many months of promises, pains and i'm-sorry's. It was that I couldn't bear to feel his hand on me, or to hear his voice; but it was there all the time. I couldn't escape, I couldn't run away (or get off the bed) from him for the first time in so long. I was stuck, crying, telling myself I couldn't do it...

I can't even believe I'm writing this. I don't want people to read this! But, I am so angry about my labour/birth experience and I will never forgive him for breaking my heart and making me cry. I relive it every night and it will haunt me for ever. The dead feeling inside me, and how I should have been feeling more alive than ever- hell, I *HAD* someone alive in there.

When I stub my toes (more like crack them) on Addi's changing table, I now blow raspberrys on my arm instead of screaming. When Addi pinches me when she's feeding, I don't yell, I just say ouch and remove her tiny claws. When I drop something, I don't swear, I pick it up again.

Something has changed in my head, something has made me numb. I don't know what's going on, or what switch has been flicked, but it's all so new and strange.

All I know is that I'm more prepared for next time (A LONG TIME AWAY, DAD, DON'T WORRY!) and I know how I want things to be, and who I want to be there.

I know myself better, and what I can/can't handle. Even before I go into labour, even before I'm pregnant; NOW, I know what I don't want. I'm bloody positive. And after years of broken promises and i'm-sorry's, I am ALLOWED to say no. Or yes. Or F OFF.

So I'd like for people to stop telling me what to do, and say, and feel. Also F OFF to those of you who are trying to make me feel guilty for certain things. I've had enough. I'm grateful for everything and it's NOT MY FAULT you're not happy.

End of.

Still

There is a time of day where, if you look out the window (for a solid 5 minutes), it could really be the same time 12 hours prior.

I just leaned out my bedroom window for a good while, staring into the distant sunset, thinking that it could be 8am, not 8pm.

So fresh, quiet, still... The only difference is that you're saying goodnight to the birdies, not goodmorning. And also that its sunset not sunrise.

Oh and also that there is no chance in hell that little miss 2-months-today (!!!!!!!!) would be asleep or awake both at 8pm and 8am.

I cannot believe that this time 2 months ago, I had just met Addi.

I had waited for her first breath, heard her yelp from metres away, held her properly for the first time and held her hand.

I had dressed that fragile, new, tiny body; so carefully, like handling the skeleton of a leaf.

I was settling in for the first night with her outside of me.

There were bright lights, and dark skies, and all the wrong types of noises going on around me.

I couldn't get off my bed or walk, I couldn't change my own baby properly unless it was between my legs on the bed.

I awoke many times (from barely sleeping anyway) to her screaming and mewing for me as she choked on her mucus that was leaving her lungs, but I couldn't get to her without just about dying trying to reach.

Coming home with her was somewhat bittersweet. I had spent majority of the last 41 weeks, alone (with her inside, though), but all of a sudden I felt even more alone. It was so odd.

I'd spent 65 hours around people I didn't know; women who had their hands on me and my tummy- then my baby, a guy who felt it was ok to make eye contact and awkward faces while examining my cervix, and a man who told me quite rudely to keep still whilst he jammed needles into my spine... Then I came home, and it was so quiet, cold and dark... It was just me and Addi at night when her dad went home.

It was just us. And I liked it, because I was used to it, but I wasn't used to this new-and-not-improved version of myself. I was sore, heavy, floppy... And it was all so new (ish).

But it's all so easy/comfortable now. I feel at home, whenever/wherever she's with me. This body is still new, and different, and Addi is VERY new compared to me ;). But I feel like I've known her, and this side of me, for ever.

We have grown together and we will continue to, in more ways than birthdays and milestones; we will grow together in our own way.

Adrenalin

So, I hope one day when Addi reads through this blog, she forgives me for feeling this way. More so, I hope I forgive myself for feeling this way.

I've got my headphones in, drowning out the outside world... I don't know if she's crying. I'm pretty sure she's not. She's fine anyway- fed, warm, clean, no wind (not since 30 mins ago anyway).

When will I have me time?... Is this it; me and the laptop?

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the whole parenting gig, I love Addi more than life. I would do anything for her, 'sacrifice' anything, take a bullet ra ra ra.

But when will I ever be able to trust someone enough to look after her alone...?

Trust is so easily broken. I'm one of those people who gives everything, their all. I do. I do my best, I give everything I've got. I love with all I'm made of and I can hate just as much. So when I trust someone, and they break it, that's that.

Or maybe I just plain hate the person and don't think they deserve any time alone with my baby. She is a part of me, and I find it hard enough leaving her for 30 minutes... But when will that change? Will it ever change?...

I need some time to myself, I need to go back to the gym, I need to let loose. I need loud music, let's face it, I need some uninterrupted shopping. I need more milk,bread and meat; more than what will/won't fit in the bottom of her pram.

I need some laughter, I need some tears (no I don't), and some smiles. From an adult.

I love her SO much, I love myself so much more too but heck- I'm sure she needs time away from me too.

Who the hell can I really trust enough, to have her while I go do something selfish?... It's not worth risking my sanity over. I really do not trust anyone in my life to look after her. I won't enjoy the music, or the rowing machine, or the dance floor, or the mall for that matter.

My family- if you're reading this- it's *NOT* you who I hate; I promise you that.

What to do, what to do...

P.S anyone who suggests taking her jogging in the pram-
A) I don't jog
B) I can't jog
and
C) no.

Dessert

Someone asked me how happy I was now that my life has changed so much.

I tried to explain by saying;

"You know when you go out for tea, and beforehand, you're excited. You dress up for it, you anticipate it. You sort of pre-plan what you'll eat, or think of what you feel like; what will give you the least amount of bloat, what won't give you bad breath... And tea is SO GOOD, and you're so content that you'd settle for just the main course without dessert. . . Well it's like I was planning for dinner for 9 months, then dinner came, and I am SO content and happy, and every little new thing she does (like smiles) is like dessert to me. It's overwhelmingly exciting and I'm so appreciative and happy about it all.. "

The only difference with your children and dessert is that one grows up and one runs out, but either way, you've enjoyed them and savoured every little bit.

I love you Addikins.

Stuff the Atkins Diet- I'm happy with the Addikins Diet ;) !

Legs

At 11 weeks pregnant, I felt you moving, but it wasn't kicks it was just jiggles.

19 weeks, I felt you with my hands.

20 weeks, I could see you sticking out all over the show.

25 weeks, I couldn't properly capture your movements on camera and it was very cute that you were hiding but also a little bit frustrating.

30 weeks and I couldn't stop you moving if I tried. 'Loyal' by Dave Dobbyn was a big hit and it soothed you but not enough to stop you. But why would I want you to stop? I had a constant reminder of faith, hope, love and magic, only a few cm's under my hand.

35 weeks, your kicks and stretches became so violent that they tickled me out the side. I was amazed, you were head down, bum up, but still found a way to kick and elbow me out the side where your back was... Now that's magic!

40 weeks and I was so excited to see your legs and feet for the first time. Every little niggle, every spot of pain, everything; made me think that 'this was it' and my eyes would finally meet yours.

41 weeks, I felt your legs leave my body and it hit me that they would take you all over the world. They would help you, they would make you. They might break but they can be fixed. They will save you, they will get compliments from boys (AGHHH) and they will probably annoy you if they're anything like mine...

But they were once mine too, only mine to feel and giggle about with every movement...

Things That Go Pop

Addi saved her best smiles for someone who needed them; her Nan-Nan.

My mum was making noises and doing different voices to get Addi to smile, and finally she got her doing it. "BUB-by" and "POP" are big hits, also me saying "Pea-each" and "BANANA" work too.

She was screaming (oh the drama) this morning so I went in to get her, she smiled at me and looked at me as if to say "I'm not really crying I just wanted you to see this"... I picked her up and hauled her into bed with me (first time in a long time) and we fell asleep while feeding. Nice while it lasted!

I decided to cut my hair off last night- sounds drastic but really I cut the bottom layer to the same length as top layer. It's not how I want it (want it shorter and blonde) but I'm not doing it myself so will have to wait to go to the hairdresser...

Stop & Stare

There's no photo for this post because I haven't had time.

I've been too busy holding my baby with both of my hands and staring at her with both of my eyes, hugging her with both arms and loving her with all I've got.

Today she had her first lot of immunisations, it was hell.

I have never felt so guilty, sick and all around horrible. I don't know how I'm going to manage when she starts hurting herself ... I guess it's all about adjusting and adapting but far out.

Being able to settle her was quite nice though; knowing no one else could do that. Our GP (wow, ours, not just mine) said she is extremely strong for a 7week old and I always say- yes, she has been strong since day one... Honestly, I felt her moving from 11 weeks. Even though it felt like a phone on vibrate under my jumper, it was still movement. No one believed me...

Anyway, she is giving me so many smiles and talks SO much it's amazing- but no photos as I'd rather stand there and be caught in all her glory than try catch it with a camera.

Skin

For as long as I can remember; I have been addicted to touching materials. I've hunted high and low for the perfect softness, texture, thickness etc. Anyone who knows me, knows my sense of smell and touch are really the strongest of all my senses.

Finally, I have found the softest, warmest, most mouth watering thing; Addi's skin.

Holding her against me in the shower, or before her bath, I get to run my fingers over her body and it is the most amazing feeling ever- to know that, that skin was made by me.

Something so soft and beautiful, the 'thing' I have been searching for in every store for years and years; I made.

True love, true beauty... Truth, for the first time in a long time, is extremely overwhelming.

Smiles

I've turned into one of those mums who tries *everything* to get their baby to smile.

It seems majority of my friends babies are already smiling but Addi is not. Miss Serious.

I'm not jealous, nor do I feel I'm missing out on something, because I know it will come, but it's strange thinking 'was that a smile?!' whenever it happens.

Thinking about the future & how many smiles, hugs & laughs there will be, is overwhelming.

I'm so excited about everything but it's also scary because it means she'll be able to get up to the exact same things that I was doing, if she's anything like me. I don't regret anything but she is so tiny & precious...

& the big bad world is only getting bigger and badder.

Sleep

Addi is 6 weeks old today.

One of the main changes thats happened over the last 6 weeks is her sleeping pattern (or lack thereof).

Of course babies' sleep patterns change, but no one mentions that our feelings change with them!

1st week: Is she still breathing?
2nd week: Ahh bliss, I can finally get dishes done.
3rd week: PLEASE SLEEP!
4th week: wow, she's sleeping a lot, what have I been eating? *reviews diet, takes notes*
5th week: ahhh she's asleep, wait, no, I jinxed it.
6th week: staring at her whilst sleeping and quietly wanting her to wake up, because I miss her so much...

What next? It's funny how many things change, as in, it's not just her. It's me, my body, my views on things, my eating habits, my sleep... Phewph.

Addi was weighed today when Chris from Plunket came to check on her, she is now 10lb4 which is perfect and spot on the 50th percentile for 6 weeks.

I am super hungry, it's supermarket time tonight. There is next to no (edible) food in the house and I put off going shopping till I *really* have to. Oops.

I am so proud of my girl, so in love and so smitten. She does indeed have me wrapped around her finger, but I'm sure I had my parents wrapped around mine too. She's just doing her job :)

Love

I never knew it was possible to love someone so much.

I love my cat an awful lot, maybe a bit too much, and I have loved her for 17 years. Cat-love is the kind of love that just 'is', because the cat is there 24/7 and you know if you don't feed it then there will be questions to answer. Also if you don't feed it, it won't be there. You will be cat-less. And over time you start thinking that you don't really want to be cat-less because you've begun to love this cat, not just because she is cute, but because she has a personality.

She is an animal; with human-type traits. And that is even more cute, in my opinion anyway.

Long story short; Addi is a baby with animal-like traits. She just *knew* how to find milk, without being put there. She searched. And it's not like someone snuck into my womb and gave her a bottle then snuck back out; she just knew what to do.

Ofcourse all babies do; but that, I think, was one of my most proudest moments. Other 'moments of proud' include getting certificates at preschool saying that I "ate the most at lunch today" or learning how to whistle, tie my shoe laces, cross my eyes, snap my fingers, roll my tongue...

She ferrets around in my neck, and it send shivers throughout my body, feeling her snuffles against my skin and in my ears; her fingers tangled in my hair...

Kittens do it too. Sleepy little baby kitties. Which is what Addi is until she cries out of frustration (damn clothes being in the way!), and then she's a tired hungry Peach.

Peach was her nickname in the womb, because when I first saw her on the scan (and found out I was pregnant), she was just a wee peach. And it stuck.

My point to all this is that I never knew it was possible to love someone/something so much. It just doesn't compare to any other type of love, or at least none of the love I have experienced.

No one has ever needed me to survive, or really wanted me that bad. No one has cried for me, missed me, reached for me...

I remember the feeling of being so small I could fit under my mums coat outside on the step when she went out for a breather, and her smell and warmth took over my body and I just zoned out. It was so comforting for me. And when I hear Addi crying, sometimes I think, 'bugger it, she's allowed to miss me and want me, I did it and STILL do, for my mum!' so I bundle her into my dressing gown and I just do what she wants, whether its feeding her or just holding her- I am all she knows and wants, which is fine by me.

We are enough for each other. And that to me is what love is; unspoiled, raw, naked, honest and ENOUGH.

Love is enough, no matter what the skeptics say.

My name is Addi

But my full name is Addilyn Faith.

Mummy grew me all the way to 41weeks, to the day, and I weighed 8lb3oz. Which is a good size, so I heard.

I was measured and I was 52cm long. Which is also a good size; I am proud of myself for being so 'good'.

My head circumference was 37cm, mummy's friends said that was big and they 'couldn't do that', which gave mummy mixed emotions but then she realised that she *did* do it and she no longer had anything to fear.

I latched straight away and had some warm cuddles with mum after I'd scared her by not breathing for a wee while. Woopsies.

We stayed in hospital for 2 nights and that was long enough for me. I just wanted mum, and didn't like other people touching me.

My first night at home with mummy was a bit funny for both of us; so scary being out in the 'air'. I like the water far more, but only now that mum is much more confident and OKAY bathing me and showering with me on her own.

Since I was born, almost 6 weeks have passed. So, I'll let mummy take over and write all about them while I go back to sleep.

Love,
Addi.