checking in

Hello, anyone looking. I'm in the land of Having No Time now, and though I've started writing the Birth Story (or serialised saga as it may turn out to be) it's going to be a while before it's finished. Shifting hormones and emotions and all.

Suffice it to say, the actual birth of my baby bears no remote resemblance to the positive and confident affirmation I posted initially, it's deeply ironic.

Key highlights are: pressure from hospital, lack of support from midwife, irrational panic from me, overdoing labour-speeding tactics, very very fast birth, midwife missed it, baby just about delivered by paramedic next door neighbour. Poor, terrified husband...

Then two days in hospital while baby was monitored for what ever was causing his little cyanotic episodes - moments when he'd turn purple. Millions of tests and antibiotics, me on the road to PND. There, and I was worried it would take me pages and pages to tell the story :)

But we're home, there was nothing wrong with him, I've had a grief that is keeping me feeling more sane and cheerful and philosophical about it all. And I have the most wonderful, sweetie pie baby with the most fabulous head of hair. He's feeding well, though he's colicky and I have engorged Frankenboobs... he's just wonderful, we're all in love. My daughter came in to see 'my sweetie' today - she won't kiss him but she loves to touch him - she asks me if she can every time.

It's weird, she came in to visit in the hospital and it was like she was a giant-child, she seemed so huge and dense in contrast with the teeny baby. A friend said she felt the same about her first when her second came - it was like Gulliver's Travels - exactly!

Oof, so tired. No energy for posting yet. Sleeping, eating, feeding baby, reading. I think I'm going to stay in jammies for at least another week, thankyou. Trying to gain back lost ground. I'm dying to post a picture, but I think I'd better sick to my resolve not to put my children on the internet...