Weaning

Since I last wrote we've had some big things happen with Harrison. Firstly, he got quite a serious ear infection and had to go to hospital. At first, we were told he'd be hooked up to an IV over the weekend but we were actually discharged from hospital later in the afternoon with just some ear drops, thank goodness. The ear infection was called Psuedomonas and is resistant to most antibiotics and can be very dangerous in babies or immune-compromised people if it spreads round the body. After many hospital appointments involving his ear being vacuumed out (or de-gunked as I like to put it) it seems to have gone away and he is back to his cheery little self.

Secondly, we have moved Harrison into his cot in the nursery. It was a very hard decision to make, and there were lots of tears on my part on being separated from my baby boy. But it was ultimately my decision and the right one I think. He was just getting too big for his Moses basket and thrashing around in it a lot, which woke me and him up. The transition has been difficult. We've had good nights and some truly terrible ones, but things seem to be levelling out now. The last few nights he's only woken once or twice and I've actually been able to get some sleep! A week or so ago we had 3 bad nights in a row where he woke every hour. I cannot begin to describe how awful I felt in the daytime - like a zombie. Sleep deprivation really is the worst! A few nights ago he went down at 9pm and woke up at 4:30am. Amazing you might think - apart from the fact I woke up every hour from 1am expecting him to start calling out for a feed. So he got a good nights sleep but I didn't - even though I could have. I've honestly forgotten what a good nights sleep feels like, where I don't need to wake up and see to my baby. The last two nights he's woken once, around 2:30am, had some milk and gone straight back to sleep (like the old days in his Moses basket). A couple of times he's stirred or woken himself up but has managed to self-soothe, which I hope he continues to do. 

Thirdly, we've started weaning! A little earlier than planned, due to the fact I have an operation to remove my wisdom tooth on his 6 month birthday. We started with some baby rice on Easter Monday...

... but no matter how much I added, it just wouldn't make a paste with my milk. So after a couple of days of offering just that once a day, I graduated him onto baby porridge...

... which he loves! So he has a few teaspoons of that for breakfast now after a milk feed. Then, on Saturday just gone, I made my first baby purée in my Beaba Babycook and Harrison had his first taste of organic sweet potato!

This went down very well. So I then gave him porridge for breakfast and a purée for dinner, with all of his usual milk feeds in between. Yesterday, I offered him see steamed carrot sticks, whilst I ate some raw ones in front of him. I thought I'd dabble in a bit of baby led weaning, see how he got on. Well, it wasn't much of a success. I know baby led weaning is very popular, but I was concerned about him choking, plus, no matter how many books I read, I still feel it's my responsibility as a parent to dictate what foods he eats, how much and when. 

I think Harrison agrees...

I ended up puréeing the carrots for his dinner so they didn't go to waste. Today I've introduced a bit of purée at lunchtime (he ate about a third of the pot) just to see how he would get on with it. I'm also offering some water in a sippy cup with his meals and encouraging him to take sips alongside spoonfuls of his food. He likes his sippy cup, but he finds the action of drinking from it funny and most of the water ends up down his front.

Weaning is really fun so far, I'm enjoying giving him new things to try (he's got butternut squash for dinner tonight - I wonder how he'll get on!) but at the same time, I'm a little sad by how quickly time is going. My baby boy is growing up so fast- in his own room, now experimenting with food... every milestone leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Next week he will be 6 months old! How time flies...

Fever

This is our poorly little man waiting for treatment at Colchester Hospital. Yesterday he was very sleepy in the morning and when he did eventually wake, he was grizzly and clingy. At baby massage, he cried and grizzled every time I tried to massage him, he was only content when I held him close and cuddled me. I went to my mums in the afternoon and he was intermittently smiley, then crying and miserable. I knew he wasn't right, I'd brought some calpol in the changing bag and gave him a small dose about 5pm, texting J to let him know that our boy seemed to be under the weather. 

But by 10pm, it was clear he was getting worse, his head was roasting hot to touch and his temperature on both our non-contact thermometer and digital one were fluctuating from 37.4 - 37.8°C. He also had loose, green, mucus-y stools in his nappy. We called 111 and gave out his symptoms and they gave us an appointment at the walk-in centre up the road immediately. We stripped him down to his vest, and with just a soft blanket loosely covering him, we battled through the sheet rain and cold to get him to the doctor. We were ushered in after about 15 mins and Harrison had clearly had enough at this point. He screamed like I've never heard before, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, not focusing on me and J. The doctor struggled to take his temperature as he squirmed and cried in our arms. It was heartbreaking. The doctor said he had a fever and a very high pulse - at 208bpm it was well over acceptable levels. He recommended we take our boy to the children's ward where he would be monitored overnight. At this point, I was struggling to hold back the tears. I felt utterly helpless. 

We drove the short distance to the main Colchester Hospital entrance and tried to find a way in as the hospital gets locked up at 10pm. A friendly cleaner took pity on us and let us in. We were shown into a private room that had already been prepared for us. The nurse and doctor came in to assess Harrison, who was so overtired and bewildered at this point that he lay forlornly on the cotbed and didn't out up much of a fuss to the doctors ministrations. They took his temperature, pulse, urine sample and checked his body over. Thankfully the doctor seemed to think that he had a nasty bug, his throat and right ear were both inflamed and he could hear some mucus on his chest. He prescribed him some antibiotics and told us to take calpol a few times every day for any pain he had and to reduce his temperature. Eventually, around 2am, the discharges our little boy and we were allowed to go home.

Back in our house, Harrison fed as normal but given that his routine was all out of whack, he didn't sleep very well and just wanted to be cuddled. And it's been much the same today. His temperature and pulse have returned to normal levels, but he has slept for most of the day. When he's been awake, he has alternated between crying miserably and smiling and playing (usually 30 mins after medicine). 

J and I are shattered and yet relieved our precious boy seems to be on the mend. Going to the children's ward was undoubtedly one of the worst moments of my life. I can't begin to tell you how my mind was racing with awful thoughts of what might have been. Even typing these words forms a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I hope and pray that our boy continues to get better and is restored to full health again soon. And I also hope that Harrison never has to go through the distress of being that poorly again. 

More Bleeding

This morning I woke up and went to the bathroom. As I looked down, I was horrified to see the sign that every pregnant woman dreads - fresh, red blood.

Thirty minutes of hysterical crying, panicking, hurried dressing and driving to the hospital. Two hours waiting in the Early Pregnancy Unit. One painful internal examination and the ominous words 'threatened miscarriage'. J and I trying to make sense of it all, trying desperately to convince the doctor to tell us that this is 'normal', that we shouldn't be worried. Hand squeezing, bated breath, crawling back into bed, tearful, exhausted, praying that everything is ok.

I need to go back on Thursday for another scan. The doctor said that my cervix is closed, which is a good sign, I have no pain and haven't bled anymore since 10am. Everything is looking positive. But the situation seems so precarious that I daren't move in case it goes away.

What will now follow is three days of torture, desperately hoping that Peanut is ok. Three days of false optimism and forced smiles and being hyper aware of every single twinge and pressure I feel. Three days of scrutinising my knickers for any trace, however small, of blood.

The wait is agonising but nothing compared to the thought of me losing this baby.

Please Peanut, please be strong and safe and healthy.

Seeing Peanut for the First Time

On Friday last week I was working at Rowhedge Village Hall. As I was about to leave, I nipped to the loo where I found a small amount of brownish blood in my knickers.

I rushed home and spoke to NHS Direct who advised me to contact my GP. I was trying to stay calm but, not finding the reassurance I so badly wanted from the guy at the other end of the telephone, I called J in floods of tears, prompting him to rush home from work.

A doctor from my surgery called me back. He advised a period of watchful waiting. Which I did. All weekend. I honestly hardly moved from the sofa. The bleeding (or spotting as it's called) became even lighter and much paler. I resolved to go to the doctors first thing Monday morning to check if everything was ok with Peanut.

At 8am I queued up outside the doctors surgery waiting to see my GP. A couple of hours later, I was in her office being told I needed to get myself down to the Early Pregnancy Unit at Colchester Hospital.

I was concerned but calm. I felt in my heart that everything was alright, but I just needed some reassurance. I drove home, parked the car and walked up to the hospital.

Two and a half hours later I was eventually examined by a young female doctor. She carried out an internal examination (ouch) and had a good feel of what was going on (awkward). She wasn't concerned about the bleeding but advised me to have a scan anyway.

Thirty minutes later I was ushered into a little room with the ultrasound device set up by a kind nurse. I've had two ultrasounds before, always to look at cysts on my ovaries. Past experiences meant I knew what to expect, but they'd always been sad occasions filled with worry.

I laid down on the bed. Gel was liberally applied to my tummy. The scanner was carefully placed on me and on screen a tiny little shape appeared.

Peanut!

It's heart flickered rapidly. My own heart pumped double time in response. Tears welled up in my eyes.

'You have a healthy baby there' said the nurse, 'and here's where the bleeding probably came from. See? Nothing to worry about. It was just the baby implanting itself into the womb.'

'I never thought I'd be able to get pregnant.' I whispered, marvelling at the screen.

The friendly nurse printed out some photos of the ultrasound for me. They are so blurry, to most people they probably can't even make it out. But that's our child. I can see Peanut.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. All I wanted to do was get home from work and hold the photos in my hands and show J. When he got home, we studied them together, our heads close, bodies touching.

Even though Peanut was there, quietly starting it's life inside me, to hold our baby's image in our hands and see evidence of the life we have created was such a tender, beautiful moment.

Our little family.