So I've been pretty emotional the past week or so. I hate writing when I'm emotional, because I'll come out with all sorts of things I'm not sure I want out there... maybe it would be different if it were an anonymous blog, but.. you know. I'm not so great at bearing my emotions at the best of times. Also it's pretty hard to pinpoint the source of said emotions and really understand them myself. It feels like both the big and small things in life are insurmountable and certain things circle round and round in my head like a broken nursery rhyme.

It may have to do with going in to work one day this week. It brought up all sorts of feelings to do with leaving Milo when I do eventually go back. It killed me. And then the lack of sleep I've been having which always makes me into a complete irrational emotional wreck... yuck. It may also have to do with all the pesky breastfeeding hormones still going round my body, or maybe the fact that this winter is taking forever to get gone. But I'm feeling it, and I'm trying to get rid of it. Just keep calm and carry on.

Well this song is one of the things that has been going round and round and round in my head, and it's just so beautiful and fitting of my love for Milo right now, so.. here it is. Lauryn Hill's song to her son, Zion.



I'm coming out of my emotion-hole so hopefully I'll write more later.

Milo Phoenix Sharp: 5 months

5 months, my little buddy.

5 months of cutie, pudgy, coy smiling, tongue sticking out, love-filled, snuggled-up Milo time.

You change every day, and it is so exciting to watch you. Your eyes light up with excitement when you figure out how to do something, you have a little 'concentrating' face whenever you're thinking especially hard. When you're sat in your bouncer, your love to kick your little legs. Kick, kick, kick. You love kicking. Kickedy kick kick kick. You still love standing up. It's impossible to get you to do anything else (almost)! When we're holding you, you stick your little legs out so you can't bend in the middle and then you go 'hooooo-oup!' and stand up. You have very strong little legs, my man. Everybody says so!

You still love holding your hands together in deep thought - or just because you're having a little explore. When you're on your play mat we'll look away for a second and ---- you're in a completely different place! You wiggle and jiggle and kick your way to a different spot. You have always been a bit of a mover and a shaker, and you're only growing more so day by day. Tummy time is no longer a huge struggle. Problem is, as soon as we put you on your tummy, you promptly role over with glee! Look at what I can do, mommy, you coo! Or, rather - goo. You love your 'goos' and your 'ah-goo'. At the moment your can't stop blowing raspberries at me, or at anything or anyone for that matter.

You hate to sleep in the day, you just can not get enough of life. The minute your little squishy backside is on the moses basket, you open your eyes up wide as if to say "Haha! I gotcha! I'm not asleep! Now - what next?!" Even when we go for walks in the pram or in your sling, you are determined to keep your eyes open. You will keep them starey-eyed for as long as you possibly can, until the inevitable sway of life knocks you out.

One big thing you've started this month is - wait for it! You've eaten proper food! *disclaimer to readers: please don't give me your opinion on this. my son is a big boy and my doctor recommended he needed to eat more than breastmilk. he was eating every 45 minutes. my.milk.was.not.enough.* moving on... so far, you have had pureed apple, pear, carrot and sweet potato! By far, your favourite is carrot. Not so much a fan of apple. But you are so cute when you're eating. You can't get enough, and you can't get it fast enough either, for that matter! It's so exciting to see you experiencing new tastes.

You have the most beautiful big blue eyes. They might still change to brown and of course will love them just as much. But they are so so beautiful. Full of curiosity, love, trust, life, excitement, mischief (already!)... Oh Milo, I love you!

We've got our little bedtime routine down now. You love to be read to, sung to, rocked, kissed and snuggled! You're such a perfect little snuggler. But oh - you still like to wake up at night! None of this sleeping through the night business for you, oh no! You gotta eat at least every 3 hours! Still! You little pudgy boy! But it's kind of understandable considering you're above the 95th percentile of your age group. We met a 7 month old yesterday and she was half the size of you! Literally!

While you snooze in bed right now, I miss your little face. I love you so much, I'm so proud to be your mother. I love how curious you are, I love how cheeky you are, I love how loving you are. I love how I can see how much you love me and your daddy. I can not wait till you can talk to us. I can not wait to see your personality shine through. Because I know you're perfect for us. My little man.

Lack of sleep (yes, I didn't knock on enough wood yesterday after writing the post...) caused me to shed a weepy tear or two after reading this poem.

Mother, oh Mother,
come shake out your cloth,
empty the dustpan,
poison the moth,
Hang out the washing
and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house
is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery,
blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little
Boy Blue (lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done
and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing
will wait till tomorrow,
for Children grow up,
as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs.
Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep......

A corner

I really don't want to speak too soon - but. Something is going right. The past couple of days, it's been... normal? I went to the doctors with Milo yesterday for his third round of injections, and.. Well. I was sat in the waiting room and realised - I didn't feel panicked. I didn't feel overtired. I didn't feel like I could hyperventilate or start crying at any second. My heart wasn't racing. I felt like I was sat in the doctor's waiting room with Milo.

It felt good!

I sound slightly crazed, I'm sure, but the past 4 months has been pretty hardcore. I know every mother goes through it, but seriously. My son eats a lot, and for me this basically has meant constant feeding, and as soon as we arrived anywhere - he wanted to eat!!! I was always super paranoid he would cry and not stop in public, constantly paranoid someone would look down on me as a mother because 'they knew better' etc. etc. I think I would have gotten to this point sooner, but I got sick, and Milo got sick. I had a BAD virus, Milo had BAD bronchiolitis where he couldn't breathe. Everything stopped progressing and I became panicked mother from hell..

Phew. It feels so good. I feel like something is going right, something has clicked. I'm no longer in automatic baby-looking-after mode, I'm Rachel with a baby. Phew and breathe deep.

And then I was preggo.

To mark the day that Milo rolled over (front to back) and in honour of being days away from when I found out I was pregnant, I want to write down as many things as I can about weird/funny/memorable things about while I was pregnant. Because I forget things easily, and it's nice to remember these things. A lot of these things to do with drink or food, I didn't actually realise till after I was pregnant.

• I drank fizzy orange all the time. Soda and cordial at home, Fanta or Tango while out and about. Couldn't get enough of the stuff. Didn't wanna drink anything else. Cordial and still water would not do. Coke was okay, blackcurrant and sparkling water - no way! Everything else was not good enough.
  
  
• I wanted to eat cheeseburgers all the time. I was so happy that on my last day being pregnant, me and my co-workers went to The Diner - best burger and chips of my life. Seriously. Best food of my life, MAYBE.
  
  
• I didn't have cravings, per se - I just wanted fatty stuff. Anything fatty would do. I only realised this after I had stopped being pregnant, though. I ate a lot of mayonnaise, a lot of sausages, a lot of stodge. I always wanted burgers, I always wanted chips/fries. Many times, I even had sausage sandwiches. Seriously. With mayonnaise.
  
  
• When I drank fizzy drinks, Milo would move. He seemed to like fizzy drinks.
  
  
• The first time I felt Milo move (or actually 100% realised it was him), I was 14 weeks along. I was lying on my back in bed, I had my hand on my stomach and I felt a little poke. Like a finger poke from the inside. Thing is, I felt it on the outside. Conrad was in the other room and I shouted him to come in saying "I FELT THE BABY KICK!" I could tell he didn't believe me, so I made him put his hand on my stomach and wait.... 2 minutes later, HE FELT IT TOO! It was amazing. So the first time I felt Milo, Conrad felt him too. That made me, and still makes me, happy.
  
  
• I didn't really start properly showing till at least 6 months. I only really looked pregnant pregnant when I was around 7 months. I was upset about this - I wanted to be big! I was jealous of friends who were as far along as me and bigger. I hear this changes with the second pregnancy, so we shall see!
  
  
• I don't know if it's because I didn't start showing till quite late, but I never got sick of being pregnant. I kept getting told that by the end I would be ready for the little guy to just GET OUT! But I never had even a second of that. It was a surprise to go into labour when I did, so maybe if I had been pregnant a little longer, I would have felt it. But I never got sick of it - I truly loved being pregnant.

• I could always see my toes. I could always get up.
  
  
• By the end, I had BAD heartburn. When I bent over, when I lay down - it was bad. Gavisgon just made me feel sick. I lived on Tums. Tums every other second. If I didn't have Tums, I was screwed and I had to get to a chemist, quick. One of the first things I remember thinking after Milo came out (or that day) was "Hey - I don't have heartburn anymore!!"
  
  
• I cycled 6 miles to work and 6 miles back throughout my pregnancy, everyday, up until I was 34 weeks pregnant and started getting high blood pressure. I even carried on then, but my doctor told me to stop, purely because "she wouldn't want me going into labour on the side of the road". So, I stopped. And if people are going to get all hoity toity about me not protecting my unborn son - seriously? Crossing the road is more dangerous, and what about letting your child sit on the back of the bike? Just as dangerous. What about a child riding a bike? Just as dangerous. More people get knocked over crossing the road in London then ever get knocked over on a bike - and whether you like to think it or not, cyclists do have control over these things. There are safe ways to ride, just don't be stupid.
  

• I could feel Milo moving almost constantly after a while, he was a big mover and shaker. Still is. He also got the hiccups a lot. He still does.
  
  
• Conrad would sing to my stomach every night. Mostly Harry Nilsson. When Conrad sings those songs now, Milo seriously loves it. Seriously.
  
  
• A couple weeks before I gave birth, I went to start the car and it wouldn't start. Without thinking, I thought "the gas has run out". I proceeded to get the gas bucket (or whatever it's called), grab my umbrella in the pouring rain, and shlep to the garage to get some gas. I then shlepped back, tried to put it in and couldn't - an hour and a half later, I finally went to Conrad for help. He was shocked and appalled that I had tried to do this all on my own. I hadn't once thought that because I was heavily pregnant I should perhaps get some help. I was silly.

• I didn't know anybody else (that I know nearby) that was pregnant, or know anybody else with babies or children. My friend at work who doesn't have children knew way more than me about everything. She threw me a baby shower, and one of the games you had to name different things like 'cradle cap' 'breast pads', etc... I had no idea what any of these things were. She looked at me, scared, and the worst thing was - I was holding back about how much I didn't know. I didn't know ANYTHING. Luckily we were scheduled in for some 'parenting classes' which basically saved our lives. Three sessions that taught us everything we needed to know about giving birth and the first few weeks with baby. All I know is down to that wonderful, god-sent midwife.
  

• I felt beautiful being pregnant. I felt more beautiful than I had my whole life. As a person with quite low self esteem, this was a big deal. I looked at myself in the mirror everyday and really liked what I saw.

• I didn't have morning sickness. Or sickness. I was so lucky. I went by the whole pregnancy without the whole 'I have to puke' thing. I felt so, so lucky.
  
  
• I stayed off from work the day I found out I was pregnant. I truthfully stayed off because I thought I might be, and I wanted to take a test at home. I was pregnant and I had to wait until Conrad got home to tell him. I made beef stroganoff (one of his favourites) and hoped to tell him over dinner. I couldn't wait that long. Dinner was almost ready, he was watching 'Grand Designs' on TV and I asked him what happened with his day. He said not a lot. I said 'do you want to ask me what I did?' and he said 'okay... how was your day?' I said 'I bought a pregnancy test'. He said 'and are you?' and i said 'yes!'... HAHA. Very weird and uneventful. It took a while for it to sink in for him (and for me, I think!)

• I only took one test.
  

• For the first 3 months, I didn't drink caffeine. It almost killed me. I thought maybe this would help me go off of it - or something - but it just made my love/addiction that much stronger. I didn't get used to it, I didn't wake up in the morning fully - I just felt dazed and confused. I love coffee. It loves me. We're getting married.
  

• We announced my pregnancy to all our friends and Conrad's surprise 30th birthday party. It felt so special. One of our close friends said "Ladies and gentlemen - RACHEL SHARP!" and everyone clapped. One of the funniest and loveliest moments ever.

• I used bio-oil every night before bedtime on my stomach and back. It worked for me - no stretch marks. Highly expensive, but highly recommended. Worth every penny.
  
  
• I went off of garlic. This was tragic for me. I love garlic! But I just didn't want it, it made me feel sick. And even if Conrad had garlic and I could faintly smell it on him, I hated it. Yuck. Gladly, this has now disappeared and my love affair with the smelly stuff is back in full force.

Well, that's all I can think of for now. I want to add to this, so I may just keep coming back whenever I think of anything. I really don't want to forget - I know that every pregnancy is different, and this one was so special because it was my first. I loved it, and I want it to be kept firmly in my heart.

Sickness.

Milo is sick.

I am still sick.

Conrad is away working.

My anxiety levels are high, I'm unsure how to deal with this type of thing. What is okay for a 3 month old baby? It doesn't help that it's happened on a weekend, where I can't make a doctor's appointment and the only option would be go go to the emergency room. Extreme? I don't even know. So far I've avoided acting the paranoid parent and haven't gone.

But I'm close to the edge.

To Milo Phoenix Sharp: 3 months old.

I'm sitting here on the couch with you on my lap. You fell asleep while nursing, as content as can possibly be. Today marks your three month birthday, little man. Life without you would be intolerable.

What have you been up to recently? Well, you love to talk. When I speak to you, you like to respond, and usually with endless amounts of glee. You respond with an "ah-goo!!!" or some such other beautiful variation of your thoughts. You can hold a rattle, but you don't actually know that you're holding it yet. In fact, you accidentally jabbed your eye with said rattle because you went to put your hand to your face. You looked so shocked! You couldn't figure out what on earth had happened.

Yesterday, you were able to roll onto your side, TWICE! I don't think you meant to do it, and I haven't seen you do it since - but I was so proud. You just kind of hoiked yourself over and back onto your back. This means that you have taken your first step towards movement, my love. This means I have to keep an eagle eye on you at all times! Who knows what you'll be up to next?

Last night in your sleep, you scratched your face. I don't think it bothers you, but every time I look at it, it reminds me that I need to cut your nails more. It's just so nerve wracking cutting those delicate little things, but here is a little reminder that it doesn't matter whether i WANT to or not, your nails need cutting and I need to get over myself. p.s. I love you.

So, it is December, and this year will be your first Christmas. I know you won't remember it, but every song I hear and every tradition I think of, I know it will be so much more precious and special because you are there too. Everything is more special and unique and exciting and emotive because you are here.

Today I danced with you to Sufjan Steven's Christmas album. Well, I danced - you stared at every single item in the room. Oh, this is another thing. You love to look at things. Recently you have decided you do not like to be bored! If you are sick of the scenery, you will let me know. You've memorised every book on the bookshelf? You want to look in the mirror this time! Your curiosity and openness with how you see things is beautiful. I hope this lasts your whole life: because, LIFE! There is so much to see! So much to love!

My baby Milo, this month we found out that you are quite a big one. You're going to be tall, I think. Both sides of your family has 6'5 family members, so maybe you'll reach those heights? Who knows - I'm just happy that you're healthy, happy that you're eating enough, happy that you're contented here in this life we have made you.

Thank you for being so perfect, Milo. Thank you for bringing so much unexpected intense love and beauty into our lives.

Love,

Your mother.

I have a million things to say but don't know how to say them. I have 3 half-written posts in my draft box. I'm too tired to write them right now. My body and brain is tired and I can't remember the last time they weren't. Chocolate helps, coffee helps, food helps. I'm tired. All my thoughts are on one thing at the moment and I wonder when that's going to change. I cook and boil the water while running to the shower, I run out of the room while he's watching the dog to hang the clothes up. The glamour, the intrigue... I'm tired. My thoughts are tired. I wonder if I'll be able to talk about anything other than how much I love my son again. My brain is tired. I'm unsure whether I've been 100% since he was born and I'm worried a lot of these months will be a blur.

I try never to say this, because I love him so much. Admitting exhaustion feels to me like betrayal. I love doing it all, I love him, I don't want to complain. I'm just drained.

Got milk?

I've got a milk supply problem. The boobies aren't giving it out in the evenings.

This means that every evening (sometimes, randomly, it's fine) poor little Milo is sucking his little heart out and getting nada. He's upset, I'm upset, the dog's upset - it's not pretty. There's nothing I can do to make the milk come. So what I've done is pump the milk in the mornings, when I have more, and then Conrad has been feeding it to him when I don't have any.

This is not fun. For some reason I am STUBBORN not to feed our son formula. I don't have anything against people who formula feed, but for some reason, for me, breastfeeding Milo is a big deal. I want to breastfeed him for at least 6 months, and I don't want to feed him formula until then. I don't know why. Every time I see a health visitor or a doctor, they ask if he's formula or breastfed, and always seem really surprised that I'm purely breast feeding. I wonder why? Do I look like the kind of person that wouldn't want to breastfeed?

I really honestly do not thing that mothers who formula feed are different from breastfeeding mothers, I promise. Some women can not breastfeed, some women choose not to, but for me breastfeeding is synonymous with loving my son and caring for him. Giving formula almost feels like I'm failing or that I'm not providing what my son needs. Failing. Every time he's crying because I can't give him milk, it makes me so sad.

So I've been doing what they say - eating oats (home-made oatmeal cookies count, right?), pumping in the evenings after he's eaten to trick my body into making more the next night (although seriously... it's like milking a stone). But it's not working. I try to relax, and it doesn't work. Usually what happens is that I give him to Conrad and he cries his little heart out until I finally get some milk... this can take a while.

It's complicated, it's emotional. Breastfeeding is a whole world of emotions that I didn't expect.

But I may have to give in. I may have to give the poor starving boy a bottle of formula in the evenings. I may have to admit defeat. If it wasn't affecting him, I would try try try try try.. I love a challenge, and I'm determined to make this work: BUT I don't want my boy to be hungry. He needs his food.

Another unexpected parental emotional heart-wrenching practical problem.

To: Milo Phoenix Sharp

To Milo,

I am sat here at the table on your two month birthday, wanting to write something poignant for you. I want to be able to tell you how much our lives have changed for the better, and how the world is a better place for having you in it. How do you go about writing something poignant, though? I’m still sleep deprived (you still love your midnight feasts), and my hands are itching to get to the washing up, the laundry, the hoovering, petting the dog… this is what I normally do in the short nap breaks you take. You see, when you’re awake, you love to eat.

But recently, you love to smile, look up at me and just have a think. I love that you now know who I am, that you quieten when you see me or when you hear my voice. I know I’m the only one that you really hang out with these days, and I hope that I’m helping you get to know the world properly. I like to sing to you, I sing nursery rhymes that I hope one day you’ll sing along too – you seem to especially like incy bincy spider – this may be my imagination. But at the moment, you follow my hands with every movement and at the end you give a little smile as if to say ‘again! Again!’

Now it’s easy to say that the last two months has gone by quickly – I guess it has. People keep saying that I should enjoy this precious time while it’s here because it will go all too quickly. I understand that, and I appreciate it, but it panics me slightly. I wonder, am I enjoying this moment enough? So what I’m going to do is not listen to them, but listen to you. You and me have a good thing going. I’ll still love you in ten years time, in twenty years time, when I’m dropping you off to school, when you’re saying your first words. I think we’re enjoying each other’s company just enough – and we can look forward to the future, we can be in the moment, but we just have to live our lives the way we are living it, I’m sure.

There is so much for you to learn, and so much for me to show you. Yesterday you had your first immunizations. I’m sorry – I know they hurt. And afterwards, you had a fever and all you wanted to do was sleep on my chest. I couldn’t help but be happy that I could soothe you, that you wanted to be with me when you were sick. I know there’s not much choice, but I love you for it already. Like I said, we have a good thing going.

There’s this crazy dog, Snoopy, that doesn’t really understand that you’re a human being yet. One day you’ll be able to ride on his back and pull his ears, and he will love you – right now, I think he thinks you’re in the way. He likes to lick your head, I think he’s still sussing you out. As soon as he understands, he will love you. He is already pretty protective of you anyway.
So, this poignant letter I wanted to write – it’s difficult because 1. My brain isn’t functioning enough to really truly say what’s in my mind and heart 2. You are so much a part of me and my life that it feels almost pointless writing it down – your importance and my love for you is just here – there’s no real describing it. 3. I wonder who I’m writing it for: for me? For people who will read it? For you? I don’t want to be writing for the sake of writing.

Month 2: Milo, I love you. You are crazily the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You are already sweet in nature, loving, delightful, happy, trusting, beautiful, inquisitive…. You love your father. He loves you. There is nothing else like the love in his eyes when he is looking at you. I am so proud of our family, I am already so proud of you. I want to be able to provide as much love, creativity, happiness, understanding of the world, openness, and show you that you truly can be whatever and whoever you want to be. Nothing can stop you. Go with your heart and your mind. Being yourself can only bring good things.