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Labour Tea

March 30, 2014

Two days after my last post, I made a litre of ‘Wehentee‘ (labour tea) and drank half of it, had a nice dinner with a friend at my favourite restaurant, watched an episode of Breaking Bad and went to bed. Little did I know, the wait for our little visitor was almost over….

I was used to Braxton Hicks contractions but this was different. At 1am, I got up and walked around a bit. Around 2am, I went back to bed, thinking it was probably good to get some sleep, ‘just in case’. Five minutes later, my waters broke. So much for sleep. Delivering a sleepy toddler to a very generous and helpful friend at three in the morning, it occurred to me that the next time I’d be seeing him, another child would be in my arms. Needless to say, 12 hours later, our second son, Lewis was born. His birth was another adventure, which I’ll leave for another time. In the meantime, here’s a picture:



The Agony of Waiting

March 3, 2014

Since going ‘overdue’, every day has become that little bit more difficult.

To anyone who hasn’t experienced this before, I apologise that I probably sound like a bit of an arse. To those who have experienced this before, you probably have a good insight into the way I’m feeling right now.

Ok, so to set the scene: Imagine that something important is happening. You’re expecting a visitor, so-to-speak. You’ve waited more than nine months for the visitor to arrive, spent a lot of time preparing for them. Only, you can’t really know exactly WHEN they’ll arrive. You can’t google it, you can’t send scouts out to look for their impending approach like in a cowboy film, even the experts can’t tell you when your visitor will bestow you with their presence. You just have to wait.

However, you can’t really make too many concrete plans, just in case said visitor shows up. Also, the visit itself is so important that you actually start to lose motivation to do small stuff you could probably get done whilst waiting because all your mental energy is focused on the ‘big rendezvous’.

Oh yeah and on the subject of mental energy: You really can’t wait to meet your visitor but you know that in order to do so, you’re going to have to go through some seriously crazy shit. You’ll probably even suffer immense physical pain, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before. So you actually fear the onset of his or her arrival somewhat. However, you’re suffering physically anyway with various aches and pains so you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t and you can’t not anyway because the whole thing is absolutely inevitable, as sure as the sun will rise in the morning.

So yeah, birth is probably agonising but the waiting is potentially just as painful….

D-Day and the Disappearing Feet

February 26, 2014

Today is my due date and I can no longer see my feet, which is an achievement, bearing in mind I take a UK size 8 (European 42)

Up until about a week ago, I actually thought I would be able to retain my relaxed, carefree attitude towards the timing of ‘the birth’. P returned from Oma’s and Oma stayed a couple of nights before making the trip back home. We joked that it would be typical if she drove home, only to have to return within a day because the baby decided to come. That didn’t happen.
H finished work for a couple of weeks (due to the unpredictability of birth, we agreed he should take some holiday around the EDD) and then all there was left was to wait. And wait. And wait. And we continue to wait.

Only one thing is certain about birth and that is, the baby will come out at some point in the not-too-distant future. So we wait.

Happy Blogiversary to Me!

February 21, 2014

Wow, WordPress just let me know that my blog has reached 5 years old! How did that even happen?

I don’t update so much and I don’t intend for the blog to be something spectacular- it’s very much a vanity project that keeps my brain ticking over. This is especially important when it comes to writing in English, since I often feel that my English is suffering on account of the amount of German I read, write, hear and speak. The other day, I couldn’t remember the word ‘cervix’ in English (’cause of course, that is a word that every pregnant woman needs!) It’s Muttermund in German, which, literally translated would be ‘mother mouth’. Sounds… er…. odd. Anyway, I digress. Happy blogiversary to me and thanks to people for reading and commenting over the last five years!


February 11, 2014

It’s been emotional, little alien-child. I feel like time’s slowed down and it’s now simply a waiting game. Your arms are wiggling around in my lower abdomen, your feet in my ribcage (as a friend put it “Boom, shake the womb”). I often get what feels like an electric shock in my right leg when you pluck my sciatic nerve like a bass string and my hips ache at night from the extra weight pressing on them.

I really thought I would be totally laid back at this point but I’m getting impatient to meet you. The harder your kicks, punches and nerve-pinging antics come, the more I want to see you. I wonder if you look like your brother? Will you have your father’s blonde hair? Will you even have hair at all? But before that, how will you make your entrance into the world? I’m hoping as uncomplicatedly as possible but birth is a bit like National Rail- you just never know. Either way, I know I’m in good hands. Gosh, maybe you’ll stay in there a bit longer than expected, get your money’s worth and all that and we’ll have to give you some friendly encouragement?

Don’t stay in there too long, eh? I know it’s cosy but there are a bunch of people out here, eagerly anticipating your arrival. Until then, you know what to do. Over and out, see you on the other side.

Four Weeks

January 28, 2014

The first time I was pregnant, it was awesome: I was rotund, blooming and had only myself to take care of. I felt like a princess and my other half treated me like I was made of glass most of the time. It was also scary as Hell. The first twelve weeks, I was terrified of miscarrying and sick as a dog, whilst trying to hide the fact in my working life. After that there were scary cramps as my womb stretched and grew for the first time. Constipation, indigestion, gestational diabetes…. Yeah, fun… (and maybe TMI but honesty is a good thing!)

This time, it’s harder with a toddler to take care of and my partner’s not convinced of my fragility but it’s still pretty darn cool. Feeling a small Being moving around inside of you is both odd and delightful at the same time. I will miss this when he’s out and since I don’t plan to be pregnant again, it’s all the more important for me to treasure these moments.

Only four weeks til DD. I wonder if he’ll hold on for longer or decide to surprise us and come earlier?

Tantrums and Runaways

January 19, 2014

I have feet in my ribcage and had to physically restrain my 3.5 year old in public for the second time in as many days, getting absoutely filthy in the process. Colour me fed up.

There was a time when I felt a slight inner smugness that our son didn’t really have so many tantrums. I learned his triggers, you see and was able to circumvent the oncoming storm with pretty decent success.

In the same way, he never really was a ‘runner’. I was always pretty safe taking him to the playground, even one without a fence or gate around it. Now, with my 34 week waddle, I’m at my least mobile so far and this of all times, he chooses to begin little independent expeditions out of my sight, usually running in the opposite direction to me and he recently had two of the most epic tantrums I’ve ever experienced.

Honestly, any smugness has been truly wiped off my face and shoved up my jaxie. There have been at least 3 worrying disappearing or running away episodes in the last 2 months, one that could have ended fatally (running in front of the rubbish truck, whilst it was turning into a side-street). The tantrums, whilst well spaced out are emotionally draining for us both and I am truly at the end of my tether on all accounts.

On the subject of ‘tethering’, I’ve decided, with much soul-searching, to go with that seemingly exclusively British thing and will seek out the reins (which I bought to secure P to the highchair when he was smaller) because strapping a wriggling toddler, screaming “Help, help!” into a buggy just isn’t working out for me at this point in time. I’m sure everyone is just gagging to find out the results of that little experiment! I shall keep you posted….