To Kayla; now that you're One

This is not going to be the usual wordsmithed blog that you have become accustom to from this site, the reason for this is that it’s Lou’s DH writing this. It took me a while to decide to do this and even longer to work out the passwords, unfortunately the news is very bad, We lost Lou in August this year. You were all a great support for Lou and a large and enjoyable part of her (our) life. I thought it only fair to let you know what happened, Lou was taken off the drug trial due to the rapid growth of existing tumors as well as the detection of others, we then went on to chemotherapy which had no effect and told she had 3 months to live, about 9 days later she passed.

We ended up having a great birthday party for Kayla early in August complete with jumping castles and all the bells and whistles, we fluked it for great weather and Lou was having a good day and was up and about , we really couldn’t have asked for it to be better, It was made all the more unreal that the people that were having a great time with us on Sunday, 13 days later, were at her funeral.

Lou rang me on the Wednesday while I was at work saying that the regular blood results had got back and that she was having trouble getting on top of the pain, this wasn’t anything we hadn’t experienced before except that the doctor had requested that she get an ambulance to the local hospital to treat the pain more effectively, I got home to find Lou a bit concerned but in good spirits, with Lou’s parents looking after Kayla, I followed the ambulance to the hospital, on arrival at the hospital we discussed with the doctors that she had radiation treatment booked for Friday in Melbourne and at that time the hospital staff booked transport to take her to Melbourne via ambulance for Friday morning, again Lou was great once the pain had been treated, we both thought that this was precautionary measure after advise from the resident doctor and remembering that only a few days ago the Melbourne professor had given us 3 months. It was not until late Thursday when doctors advised us that we should cancel our radiation appointment as Lou had deteriorated over night that the alarm bells started going, again at no time were we given any indication from staff just how serious her condition had become, at this point I contacted family and friends to let them know that it wasn’t going to be a two night stay as originally thought. Lou said as a fleeting comment “I hope I am going home” I remember saying don’t even think that. But then the cruncher was on Friday while I was in the middle of swapping with Lou’s parents looking after Kayla so Lou’s parents could be with her for a few hours in the afternoon and Lou was by herself for not longer than half an hour the doctor came in and told her that she wouldn’t be going home. Lou was fairly heavily medicated and very distressed and rang me. The next hour was a bit of a blur as I raced to Lou’s side and tried to make sense of the situation with grief, anger and sympathy exploding inside me, my only concern was Lou. Family and friends called in over the next 24 hours and Lou would wave in and out of conciseness but was coherent enough to chat to everyone, her two best friends stayed the night on Friday, It was Saturday night after many visitors with Lou’s waking times becoming further apart, it was just Lou and I by ourselves just holding hands, we did this a lot, it might sound corny but we used to lie in bed and hold hands and talk for hours laugh and cry, this night it was just me doing the talking and crying as I watched her breaths become shallower and further apart until nothing.

I can tell you how hard its been for me juggling my 2 older kids at home my work with 15 staff and my little 13 month old girl but it just doesn’t compare to how hard it would have been for my beautiful wife to leave her perfect daughter behind.

I love telling everyone about Lou’s Blog and the amount of comments she gets, Please leave a comment I would love to print them out and show our daughter one day. Thanks again

Below is a poem that was written by my 15 year old daughter that was read out at the service

I was sitting in my room, looking at your picture.
Wondering why you couldn't make it to my future.
Uncontrollable tears stream down my face,
While my heart beat starts to race.
Asking God why he took you from my life,
It was more painful than stabbing me in the heart with a knife.
I still needed you here
you were the one to make everything so clear.
You are a part of me and I am apart of you
when you died a part of me died too.
I never knew how hard it was to lose someone you love
until the day you went to heaven above.
Even though I can't see,
I know you’re up there watching over me.

You were the best friend I ever had

And you were there for me through the good times and the bad.

I love and miss you more than you knew

You taught me so much, I want to thank you.

I miss hearing your voice and seeing your smile

Just being with you and hanging out a while.

A thousand times we needed you.

A thousand times we cried.

If love alone could have saved you,

You never would have died.

A heart of gold stopped beating,

Two twinkling eyes closed to rest.

God broke our hearts to prove he only took the best.

I never got to tell you how much you meant to me,

Or that you were the best mum, better than any could be.

I love you Lou. I Always Will.

Reconnecting

I have been spending a lot of time in bed lately. And hospital. My latest side effect is anaemia. I have been having blood transfusions every couple of weeks. One week in bed... one good week... another week in bed... Fun and games.... Shits and giggles....

DH has been trying to talk me into putting a tv in the bedroom, but I have resisted. He decided that he misses reading my blog so went to buy me an i-pad - despite my objections to the cost. In the end he decided it didn't have enough power and bought me a laptop at 3 x the price. There is a lot of Tim the Toolman in my husband.

Despite the anaemia, the Oncologist has been happy with my response to the trial drug. The first lot of CT and MRI scans in June showed all tumours had shrunk in size to varying degrees. Results for the 2nd lot of scans are due tomorrow and no-one is quite so optimistic. The lymph node tumours under my arm have visibly increased in size over the past couple of weeks. I'm not sure if they will keep me on this trial if that is the case. I am expecting not. We are meeting the Oncologist at 10am tomorrow. My anxiety levels are through the roof and keep leaking out my eyeballs.

On a brighter note, my baby girl is almost a year old! She is the most gorgeous thing and I just adore her. She is still doing the commando tummy crawl but has started to pull herself up and weight bear on her legs just this week. She refuses to talk but has some hilarious facial expressions and waves furiously whenever anyone enters or leaves the room. I must write a big post with photo's for you. I must also organise her birthday party. Bloody hell I'm hopeless - can't make a decision to save my life at the moment.

Thanks for stopping by and thinking of me, I will try to catch up on my reading over the weekend.

Off and running.....

I cannot believe it has been so long since I last posted. Sorry. Morphine is not my friend.

I am on the trial!
I am on the trial drug!

Officially started last Thursday. Friday I was dancing almost totally pain free. Absolutely ecstatic. Saturday I was in hell. Lower than a snake's belly. It seems that my tender little stomach is taking some extra time to get used to the drug. I think I have experienced the full gamut of listed side effects. This is probably not good for the trial stats and every second day they talk of taking me off the medication, but I am being uncharacteristically assertive. I can do this. My stomach will rise to this occasion (hopefully not literally - again).

This whole trial process has been a roller coaster. The baseline studies have been scary. Latest scans show 'spots' on my lungs and a couple of 'specks' on my brain.

Start

Yay I have a mutant fast growing cancer gene!!

Its not much I know but its a start at least. This means that I am eligible for the drug trial. I have an appointment next Friday to have all the testing done again at the cancer hospital - I imagine this will be the baseline info for the trial. It will be interesting to see how much Terry The Tumour has grown since Feb.

As you can tell from my last post - I have good days and not-so-good days. The pain meds make me feel dizzy and nauseous and don't seem to block much of the pain, but the next step up are morphine based meds which would mean I couldn't look after Kayla. I decided that if I was only going to be here for a short time then I wanted to 'be here' as much as possible. Probably not so good for DH who has to do so much more around the house, but hopefully not for much longer.

A lovely reader sent me a link to a New York Times article about the drug I hope to trial and they talked about almost instant reductions in tumour size, so hopefully I can get some of my life back soon. Another lovely reader emailed me some info on other drugs in the works so I'm planning on sticking around long enough to try all these new things.

Thanks to everyone still thinking of me and praying for me. I really do appreciate it.

Whinge

Well its been a month and finally my pathology has made it from one lab in Melbourne to another lab in Melbourne. Woo-friggin-Hoo!

I can't believe the delay. I still don't know if I am eligible for the trial. So needless to say I have not had any treatment yet either. My tumour feels like its getting bigger and the pain is relentless.

I am having a whinge I know but I am so over this waiting thing....

Patience

I've never considered myself to be a patient person. I'm much more of an instant gratification type of gal. Yet the entire past decade of my life seems to be revolving around waiting. Waiting for medical procedures to start - to finish - to be successful.

I have signed up for a drug trial. The drug company is in the US so my pathology was sent over last week and we are waiting to find if I am eligible. As I understand it the drug targets a certain mutant gene found in fast growing melanoma tumours and (they hope) turns the gene off, so the tumours stop growing, or at least stop growing so fast. Previous trials have shown that some tumours have reduced in size by around 30%. A lovely old Italian man sitting next to DH at the cancer hospital told us that he participated in the last trial. He had been given 3 months to live but now his tumour is 75% smaller than when he started.

Obviously, I really want to get on this trial.

The first hurdle is eligibility. It's a strange new world when I am hoping that my cancer contains a mutant gene that makes it grow faster! The oncologist is 80% sure that it will.

The second hurdle is that the trial is randomised. This means that a computer program on a computer somewhere in the States randomly chooses who gets to try the new drug and who gets the standard chemo treatment. I have been placed on a priority list to start treatment asap, but there is no compassionate bias.

I am trying to think positively. The oncologist thinks another trial will start later in the year if I don't get the new drug on this one. And anyway, maybe the chemo will be just as effective, and there are other new drugs that are also coming on to the market - such as immune system boosters - that are having good results too.

My fingers are crossed and many prayers are being sent off into the ether.

Overwhelmed

DH and I are overwhelmed my your love and support. DH has tried many times but not been able to read all your comments, so moved by the kindness of strangers.

A huge thank you to my gorgeous bloggy mates Eden, Stacie and Mrs Mask for recruiting extra prayers. We are going to need all the help we can get for this new fight.

My uncle visited today. His 40yo stepson was diagnosed late last year with Stage 4 cancer of the rectum with spots on the liver as well. He's been having chemo for about a month now and the main tumor has reduced from 75mm (same size as my lymph node tumor) to less than 7mm and the liver spots have dramatically reduced as well.

We have been crying every day but we have hope. Hope has always and will always be with us.

I am just anxious to start treatment and get the fight on.

And it just keeps getting better

The past few days have been horrid.

I had surgery on Thursday to remove some suspect skin lesions. One on my back, one on my thigh and another on the sole of my foot. All pathology came back as benign. Obviously the one on my foot has me laid up for a few days. My parents are here again but this time has really bothered me because I am an invalid. Kayla has a cold and has been crying a lot more than usual, and I can't get up to her, I can't carry her and I can't bath her. I hate it so much. It seems too much like a window to the future....

The Professor finally made contact about my latest scan results. The cancer has spread to my bones - it's in my shoulder, thigh, hip, pelvis and I think a few spots in my back. He said my prognosis is not good - about 8-9 months - but they are trialling a new drug which seems to have some promise. I'm not sure what this means but I will try anything, do anything to gain even just a little more time with my precious family.

My heart is breaking for DH. Imagine what it would be like to be told the person you love may only live another 9 months (unfortunately at least a couple of you know this feeling already and that breaks my heart too.). We haven't told anyone else yet and I don't know if we will. I have so many thoughts and feelings running rampant in my head but truly don't know what else to say right now....

Liver Spots

I thought liver spots were those brown marks old people get on the backs of their hands. A CT scan yesterday revealed spots on my liver. Not good news apparently. According to the report the lymph nodes in my groin are also enlarged but the Dr did not mention this. Good news is that there is no sign of cancer in my lungs or brain. Possibly something sinister hanging out near my left kidney but other organs look good.

The breast surgeon has been awesome. Since the diagnosis I have spoken to her or her secretary every day. She has organised an absolute barrage of tests for this week and even an appointment with one of the Melanoma experts at the local cancer hospital for today. So hopefully they will move just as quickly and aggressively with treatment.

On a much lighter note.... Kayla had her half birthday yesterday. She is just so happy and gorgeous and is loving spending all this extra time with Grandma and Grandpa.

Cancer Schmancer

Hello. My name is Louise.

I have cancer.

Melanoma.

Fuck it.


I noticed some swelling in my armpit about 3 weeks ago but didn't think much of it. I knew I had a breast screen appointment on January 27th so I thought I'd mention it then. By then it felt like a hard lump, maybe a bit smaller than a golf ball. The breast specialist scheduled another ultrasound and a needle biopsy of my lymph nodes for February 9th. Two days later the lymph node(s) was the size of a tennis ball and a huge lump had appeared under my collar bone. I rang the specialist again and she did the needle biopsy herself yesterday morning. The results came back as "Atypical", so I had a core biopsy yesterday afternoon to get a bigger tissue sample. She rang with the results today. Cancer. Melanoma. The pathologist checked twice.

We don't have a lot of information yet, but par for the course with me there is a kicker. The kicker is that the cancer in my lymph nodes is a secondary cancer and we don't know where the primary cancer is. And therefore how advanced it is.

I am booked in for some scary bloody radioactive body scan on Friday to help find the sucker. Then hopefully next week I will have surgery again to cut it out and remove the lymph nodes.

I can't get the image of ugly black cancer cells multiplying in my armpit out of my head.

The speed at which this thing appeared scares the fuck out of me.

The fact that I have a six month old daughter scares the fuck out of me.

I want to be there when she gets married, I want to be there when she has a baby of her own.

Infertility kicked my arse but did not beat me. Cancer will not beat me.

Same Same but Different

The days are flying by so fast. Amazing considering I seem to do the same things all day every day and always end the day thinking "damn I still didn't get to do the ironing"... or wash the floor... or finish decorating bub's room.... A good day sees me showered before DH gets home, the laundry hamper closer to empty than full and the breakfast dishes washed before dinner. These are now the markers of my day - not how many invoices I sent out or how much profit we made last week.

But just when I think I have some kind of a routine happening, Kayla does something to remind me that it is she who is in charge - thank you very much. This week its rolling, and flipping on to her tummy - not so good at bringing her hands up under herself yet, so there's also a lot of flailing legs and mashing her face into the rug. I'd been dragging my feet with the whole moving her out of our room and into her cot thing, when she decided to force the issue and start rolling around in the cradle. Last night was the first night she's slept in her cot. She did much better than I did. I had the baby monitor right beside me but my heart pounded for the first hour because I couldn't hear her breathing which obviously meant she wasn't. I made myself wait for an hour because I knew I was being ridiculous (which is surely ridiculous in itself!).

Another new hobby of hers is talking. She's also been pretty chatty but now she's found a whole bunch of new sounds to play with. I love waking up in the morning listening to her "sing". She has such a such gorgeous girly little voice and she just sounds so happy nattering away to herself. I hope she can sing, a talent I totally missed out on, and play a musical instrument like her dad. Ju.lie Andr.ews was being interviewed on tv this morning and they kept playing footage of her singing "the hills are alive" and Kayla seemed to be listening and smiling, I said "that lady can sing almost as good as mummy", she stopped smiling and turned to me with a very blank look. Ouch!

Monthly post

One post a month? That is terribly slack of me I do apologise. I think my new years resolution for 2010 will have to be something to do with improving my connections. I've dropped off my blog as well as FB, I haven't been visiting people as much as I'd hoped. The only people I see regularly are the women from the council's weekly "mother's group" - and I doubt that will last much past January.

My friend said to me that other day that her son's first year was the loneliest of her life. I was a bit shocked at the time, but thinking about it I can imagine how that would be. Because I live out of the city people only tend to visit on weekends. My husband's business is expanding at a ridiculous rate and he is having to work huge hours. So I am reluctant to make weekend plans because I want to create space for Kayla and her dad to spend some precious time together. During the week I am racing around trying to get Christmas organised in hourly chunks between sleeps and feeds. Soon enough I will have time to see people and no-one will be interested. I will have time to blog again but will have no readers. Vicious circle.

Mother's groups are an interesting concept aren't they?! Lets get a group of women together who will probably have nothing in common besides the fact they've just had a baby, stick them in a room together and see if they get on! Seriously though, of the seven in my group, six seem really quite nice. But there is always one isn't there? A bit of a nutter, slightly weird, terribly needy person who nobody likes but who is totally oblivious to this fact. And even though everyone else seems to get on reasonably well, this one person will break the entire group apart.

Apart from the gorgeous Kayla, my most loyal companion lately has been 17yo step son Tiger. Having finished school for the year he comes to bludge on our couch for a while and eat all our food (for something so skinny he sure can pack it away!) Kayla squirms and beams at the sight of him as he tells her all the things he has planned for her when she's bigger. It is really quite cute. He played two golf tournaments in a row last week and told his dad that he missed her. I think he's surprised at how easily the connection with her has come. The other two haven't really bothered, they'd be more likely to wait for her to connect with them. Self-absorbed much? But, of course, that is the nature of adolecence I guess.

I am still hanging in there with breastfeeding. The morning feeds (4am and 8am) are mostly breast then maybe again in the afternoon. She has stopped refusing but most times will not feed longer than 5-10 minutes. I don't mind now. Sleeping is improving all the time. We had to stop swaddling because she was fighting it so much, even though she slept much better wrapped. After a few rough nights she now sleeps in a Grobag, from 7-8pm until 4 or 5am. At last measure she was 6kg and 60cm long. She smiles all the time but hasn't found her laugh yet. She's getting so big but is still so small. She faces outwards in the BabyBjorn and has just about outgrown her pram. After Christmas she will move out of our room and into her cot *sigh*

Merry christmas, happy holidays and happy new year!

Breastfeeding

Its ironic that I was so defiant when Kayla was born against the breastfeeding bullies, protesting that it would make no difference in the long term if she was bottle fed or breast fed. I felt that it was my choice and i would not be bullied into thinking there was only one way to go.

Now I am desperate at the thought of stopping breastfeeding. My milk came in late and my supply has never been great. The milk let down can be incredibly slow and has pretty much always frustrated bub but we have soldiered on and I've come to love the intimacy of feeding. The way she looks at me as she feeds and holds my fingers or strokes my skin.

The past few weeks here have been unseasonably hot here and she has been wanting to feed far more often, so when my supply couldn't keep up I gave her extra bottle feeds. This week she is refusing the breast during the day, but at this stage will still accept night feeds. It started with just the left one - a notoriously slow let downer- but this afternoon she refused the right as well. She turns her head and screams and cries real tears. This afternoon I joined her - and not for the first time.

I am finding it so hard to look at this logically. I can tell myself that she is just being lazy, she wants the instant flow of milk she get from the bottle. We live in an instant gratification driven society afterall - why should babies be immune? She is not rejecting me, she is rejecting the dodgy milk supply offered by my aging breasts. But I am taking it personally. I can't help but feel she is refusing me, rejecting the intimacy I am offering. And that hurts.

I should ring a lactation consultant and see if we can turn this around, but I can't talk about it without crying and that makes me feel like an idiot. It should not matter how my baby is fed as long as she is being fed and putting on weight. It surprises me that I feel so strongly about this.

Other than this issue, everything else is going pretty well. The pediatrician says her heart murmur is just a little flow murmur which may resolve itself with time. She wants to check it again in 6 months.

Cold War

Does this hat make my cheeks look big?!

We are slowly recovering from our first shared illness. Not sure who started it, but we've both had a crappy cold for about 2 weeks now. A sniffling, sneezing, coughing, head cold. Not too bad but not fun either.

I took Kayla to the Doctor just to make sure her chest was clear, which it was, but the Doc thought she could hear a heart murmur. Hopefully she is wrong, or it is just a temporary effect of the cold. I'm trying to be calm, I'm sure its nothing, but 3 weeks sure seems like a long wait for our appointment with the Pediatrician.

8 weeks

Wow I missed an entire month! Where did September go? It's now October and my little cherub is 9 weeks old tomorrow.

We have settled into as close to a routine as can be expected. Basically Kayla calls the shots and I respond. She has some quite unsettled periods during the day but thankfully sleeps quite well overnight. She has started to smile and coo which has us all falling under her spell. She is just so special and unique and lovely that I count my lucky stars every day and just drink her in.

The first couple of weeks were harder than I ever expected. My room at the hospital was opposite the staff amenities and the cleaners store room. It was incredibly noisy all hours of the day and night with staff walking past but I found it difficult to get any of them to actually come into the room. My anxiety levels were through the roof. Lack of sleep, pain, a screaming hungry baby and extremely high blood pressure really took their toll and I had a major anxiety attack on the last day. I couldn't believe they were sending me home with this tiny baby whose very life was in my hands when my milk hadn't come in and they hadn't even bothered to show me how to bath her (despite repeated requests).

Naively, I had expected breastfeeding would just happen and so was not prepared for anything else. Poor DH had to race down to the pharmacy to buy formula, bottles and a steriliser before I would leave the hospital. So much emphasis is put on breastfeeding and the world is full of experts on the subject. I did not expect it to be so difficult, but I put up with the screaming, and the disappointment and the bleeding nipples to prove to all the naysayers that feeding my starving baby formula until my milk came in was not the end of the breastfeeding world! My milk didn't come in until around day 10-12, and even now is still quite inconsistent. Thank the Lord for Blessed Thistle herbal capsules!

My parents came to stay for the first couple of weeks which was great because it allowed me to just focus on Kayla without having to worry about dinner or housework. But it was also lovely when they went home!

It has taken a long time for me to shed the feeling that all of this is temporary and one day will be gone. I've felt this since the beginning of the pregnancy and thought it would go once bub was born, but I think it just got worse. Once, around week 2 or 3, I was making a mess out of changing Kayla's nappy and she was starting to cry so I apologised to her and said "Aunty Lou is not very good at this". Ha! Seriously! DH thought it was very sad. Every day now I tell her that I am her mama, trying to make it real more for me I think than her. At times it is still surreal, but I'm trying to relax and just let it sink in that this is forever.

I. Am. A. Mother!

It finally worked! How amazing is that? This little creature who stares intently at me while I feed her, who smiles at me when I talk to her, and gets frustrated with me when I take too long getting her onto the breast. Who grunts and snuffles and farts all night long beside my bed, who stops crying when I hold her close. Who makes me laugh and makes me cry. This tiny creature is mine and I love her with all of my heart and soul.

Does anyone's birth plan ever actually go to plan?

Months ago I sat with my Obstetrician and wrote a birth plan. May I please have a mostly pain-free vaginal birth. But if the baby's life is even slightly at risk, please feel free to slice me open like a fish. Thank you.

When I saw the Ob on Monday August 3rd, two days past my due date, he said he doubted that I would go into labour on my own so booked me in for an induction on Sunday August 9th.

5am Tuesday August 4th I woke in our swanky inner city apartment and felt the need to pace. I had what felt like menstrual pains that came and went, but mostly I just felt "weird", sort of agitated and hyper. DH got up around 7am and got ready to go to work, but, being the smart guy he is, decided to hang around for a while. By 8.30 the pains were coming every 15 mins or so and I had started spotting so we rang the Obstetrician but he was in surgery. A hospital midwife said to call back if the pains got worse or were coming every 5 minutes.

We started timing the contractions at about 11am, sometimes they were 10 minutes apart, sometimes only 3 or 4 minutes. We rang the Ob again around 12.30pm and when I could not talk through a contraction he decided we should make our way to the hospital.

Time at the hospital has become a bit of a blur but it didn't seem long after we arrived in the labour suite that the contractions really intensified. The midwives changed shifts at 3pm so I think it was around 4 or 5pm that I asked for the gas. The Ob came in around this time and said I was about 3cm dilated. WTF! only 3cm! I was devastated. They predicted that I would labour all through the night. The Ob offered to break my waters but I said no (Don't ask me why - I have no idea).

I think it was about 8pm when the Ob came in again, this time I was 8cm dilated. During the examination my waters broke and an insane amount of fluid gushed all over the bed and the floor. I was becoming pretty distressed with the pain by now and the gas was not helping at all. I said to the Ob "May I please have an epidural now?". Strange what pain does to you - some women become psychotic during labour, I became Little Miss Polite.

What seemed like a VERY LONG time later, an anesthetist came to administer the epidural. The midwife said "in about 15 minutes you will be in love with this man". Many, many, long minutes and 2 top-ups later I HATED that man. The pain was unbearable and the epidural was not working. At some point another examination must have happened because they suddenly started talking about the baby having turned and being in the wrong position and I would have to have a c-section.

They let my mum in to see me but I couldn't talk, I couldn't even cry even though I was so scared. I didn't really understand what was wrong, but suddenly everyone was moving and talking much faster than before. The need to push was overwhelming and although they told me not to, I believe that I did push once or twice.

In theatre they discovered that the epidural catheter had dislodged. They inserted a spinal block and the pain finally stopped. The anesthetist was suddenly very apologetic and friendly, giving us a running commentary all through the procedure. As bub's head emerged he held a mirror up for us to see. All I saw was a fat little blue face sticking out of my belly, but poor hubby told me later he saw more than he'd bargained for. "I've seen your gizzards and I still love you" will go down in our history as one of the most romantic things he's ever said to me ;-)

It seemed a very long time before I heard Kayla cry. The pediatrician later told us it took her two minutes to get Kayla to breathe on her own. Her first APGAR score was a measly 2 points. When she was first shown to me she was absolutely covered in meconium so it was a good thing she didn't breathe any of it into her lungs. Hubby went with them as they took her away to be cleaned and weighed then he took her to see my mum and dad.


We were moved up to the maternity ward about midnight I think. DH was given a terrible fold-out bed to sleep on which somehow he did, but despite feeling totally exhausted I could not sleep. It didn't help that a midwife kept coming in to check my blood pressure every 30 minutes and that Kayla spent the night in the nursery being fed formula because her temperature was too low. I have a vague memory of Kayla being put to my breast at one point but that may have been the next morning. So many thoughts were loose in my head and I couldn't quite believe what had happened. I'd just had a baby! A real, live baby!

She's here!!

Kayla arrived via emergency c-section at 10.35pm on Tuesday August 4th, 3500gm (7lb 11) and 50cm (20in) long.

We are all home in our almost-finished house so I will try to update in the next day or so.

In the meantime, here's a picture of my little girl.......

Legs crossed

I was going to start by saying that the lack of posts recently has been due to a lack of creativity but that makes the rather large assumption that I am normally creative and witty. But I'd probably rather you think I was dull (and possibly vain) than know the truth about the last few weeks. Suffice to say that the hormones have been raging, the renovations are continuing and middle stepson, 16 year old Tiger, has moved in with us. I am a bit (!) of a control freak, and have not been coping terribly well with the lack of control, lack of privacy and immense changes that these last few months have brought.

I am starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel this week however and I'm hoping that the worst has passed. I have had to let go of the notion that the house will be ready before the baby arrives. Next week they start knocking down walls and dismantling my kitchen. I've decided to move into an apartment in the city close to the hospital. I am hoping that bub will arrive a few days later than expected to allow the work to be finished, but I suspect that even if bub was 2 weeks late s/he would still beat the renovations. I don't care if bub and I have to spend the first week or two of his/her life in a hotel or at my mother's house, I need to look after number one. I won't be taking bub home until all the work is done, the dust has settled and the painting has finished. Hey, perhaps I can talk my family into getting me a cleaning team for a day before we get home rather than the usual newborn bibs and blankies! What an awesome idea!

Bub is continuing to rock and roll all day long. My blood pressure is still moderately high but seems to be holding. I'm having it tested every second day and seeing the Ob twice a week. The other night I had some very light, brown spotting and the following night some period-like pains so I feel like everything is ready to go, but apparently bub's head is not even engaged yet. I didn't think it possible but my belly appears to have popped even more and I'm finding it really difficult to feel comfortable in any position for long. But still I love it! I will have to post one last belly shot before the big day.

Still here...

Sorry for the silence. A few things are going on but everything is fine with bub.

I spent most of last week at my mother's house cashing in on some much needed pampering. It was great to escape from my noisy, busy house and catch up on some quality rest. I think bub appreciated it the most. Every night s/he would put on a show for our hosts by rolling from one side of my stomach to the other. My mother keeps telling me that although this will be her 5th grandchild it's special because she can be more involved with me than with her daughters-in-law. I hadn't really thought about what that meant until we were in the Ob's office and she said she'd never seen an ultrasound. The Ob was gorgeous with her pointing out all bub's features and printing out a pic for her to show off to her girlfriends.

My blood pressure was up a bit high which earned me another round of tests and a repeat visit last Saturday. I failed the Group B Strep test but passed the pre-eclampsia blood and urine tests which was important. We also got to experience the wonderfully named Pregnancy Day Care Centre while they recorded bub's movements over an hour. We had the bags packed for this appointment just in case... and I think DH was disappointed we were sent home. I have another appointment on Friday and a date with the chemist every other day to keep an eye on my blood pressure.

I have got the most hilarious waddle going on this week. I think bub must be pushing on a nerve somewhere because I am experiencing intense discomfort in my lower pelvis which is making moving around an interesting exercise. Otherwise all is going well. I have always had a feeling that bub would arrive early but at this stage it appears likely we will go full term. Not long now!

An emotional week

After bragging last week about how good I'm feeling physically, this week has been an odd one emotionally.

I think I've been in tears every day for some reason or another - well, mostly for no reason at all! Poor hubby is a fixer, so does not cope with me in tears - least of all when I'm unable to even articulate why. Maybe its just hormones. Maybe its just a stress relief.

The other day I went into a carpet store to choose carpet for bub's room but left almost in tears because I just felt so overwhelmed. I left an electrical store at the same time as a woman who must have been at least 80 years old, we did the "no you go first" thing but then she said "I've been there done that darling, I know how tired you must be feeling". I sat in my car and cried "Yes, I am tired. No-one understands how tired I am." But of course they do.

Everywhere I go lately women ask me when the baby is due, how long do I have to go. When I tell them 6 weeks, the majority of them say things like "oh I found that the worst part" or "I cried so much in the last 6 weeks, I was so over it". A lady said to me today "You'll be so happy when it's all over".

But you know, as much as I long to meet my baby, I wonder if I will miss feeling him/her flopping around in my belly. Trying to guess if that bulge is a head or a bum, a hand or a foot. Wondering what the hell is going on when the movements are so quick and fluttery. It's such an amazing, intimate connection. One I thought that I would never have the opportunity to experience, and that I will never be able to experience ever again. The kids make fun of me always rubbing my tummy, but I just love it. I never want it to end. I just want to savour it forever.