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.

A 33-week pregnant mind.

Labour. I will be giving birth to a BABY. In approximately 7 weeks. This is seriously scary. I have no idea what my pain threshold for this will be. People say to prepare your ‘birth plan’ which basically means, what do you want to do? I have no idea what I want to do. I want to give birth to a healthy baby, but there are a million ways to do this, and you know what? You can’t make that happen, what happens: will happen. So I say, I dunno... “gas and air? And then if I just can’t take the pain, an epidural?” I pretend I know what this means for me; I do not know what this means for me.

Pain. I know what I can deal with in terms of past experience; lower back pain, skinned knees, a laser to my heart through the groin (don’t ask!). That hurt, but really… an actual CONTRACTION of your WOMB inside of your BODY. This is pain I cannot imagine, and I have no idea if I can hack it. I’ll have to hack it. And there is no going back, because this baby has got to get out somehow.

And as for if things go wrong? You can’t plan for that. It could happen, it very might well happen.

When the baby is here. If I think about this too long I freak out. I am bringing a human being into the world. The human being will always be here, always be in the house, unless we take it out. He won’t eat unless we feed him, he won’t develop unless we nurture him.

Words like “nurture”. There is a whole new language, a whole new world to understand now. Breastfeeding, nappies, sleep patterns, things to look out for… things I’ve never heard of. These seemed like babyspeak to me. It now makes more sense, but all these phrases and words I’ve heard so many times before are beginning to take shape, and now I want to talk about them. I want to understand them. I dream about them at night to the point that I wake up feeling a bit sick and even more confused.

Listening to other people’s point of view and advice. Everybody is different from me. I know from experience that Conrad and I deal with things very differently from our friends and people that we know. So I don’t really know how to take advice – I take it lightly, I keep it in mind. But really? We can only deal with things the way we’re going to deal with things. We are strong, it will be fine. But advice is almost useless. Particularly because all advice is different.

Regardless, I will be giving birth to a new human being in approximately 7 weeks.

I've got a serious case of Gotta Get Outta Here's and there's nothing I can do. This has never happened to me before. I would usually go to extreme lengths to get outta here if I had to (present residential country). I would go into horrible debt, sell all earthly possessions.. but I can't.

Hormones are something ELSE. I'm irrational and emotional at the best of times, and wow do I feel bad for Conrad right now. When I feel sad, it is immense. When I feel angry, it is extreme. When I feel nervous or tentative about the future, it becomes verge-of-needing-valium anxiety. This baby is making me crazy. And I'm already a little crazy anyway.

Other emotions include extreme want to keep the baby safe - being scared of woods. Seriously, scared of going in the woods. I could only imagine this was hyperdrive protection mode, because there is nothing freaky about woods.

Definite nesting instincts. I don't want to be at work, but not just in a 'I don't feel like working way'.. in a I belong with my family (Conrad and bump), I want to be with them NOW way.

Add to all these things a really heavy dose of guilt. Guilt that being here isn't enough, guilt that I feel anything so strongly besides what I feel I should be feeling.

Anyway, most strongly I want to be somewhere else. I know internet land is sick of me saying this, but I need to get away so I can realise that I like England again. So I can feel homesick and want to be here. Because right now, I just want to get away.

p.s. as a side note, one thing that is keeping me going is the most amazing watermelon I've found at the local Greek cornershop. It is better than anything I have ever tasted. England doesn't do watermelon, so this is just a taste of paradise. I can close my eyes and see the mediterranean.

I’m mad about the amount of sun England has.

1. When the sun’s out, every single other person in the UK decides to do the exact same thing you decided to do, at the exact same time.
2. People wear short skirts and short shorts that really just shouldn’t
3. You can only be happy with the sunshine ‘in the moment’… you cannot plan. Once a BBQ or day to the park is planned, the weather will change.
4. You can’t pack your winter clothes away. At some point soon, you will need that thick sweater or that thick pair of socks.
5. Every single outdoor space is packed to the gilt
6. If you try to do anything summery, it just ends up feeling like a Brit’s Abroad Tenerife holiday. Or something equally as awful
7. Your tan that you’re nicely topping up will disappear in two day’s time when the grey sky and concrete slabs of dullness come back
8. Sunshine is bittersweet. It will soon leave and you will feel empty and used.
9. English people complain. SERIOUSLY! They complain that it isn’t sunny, and then as soon as it’s warmer than 20 degrees, they complain that it’s too hot. TOO HOT! And too sunny! This is stupid.
10. All winter long you wait for the sunshine to come back and the hot days to wash over you. Mid June you realise it never happens – why do you always expect it?
11. You take 5 days off for Bank Holiday weekend; it is grey and cold every single day. The day you go back to work it is 27 degrees and sunny.
12. Every summer will be the same. You think it will be different, but it will be the same.
13. You pay way too much for way too little. My garden is a courtyard that would laughably be called a gutter to some in the world.
14. I'm having a baby so I can't spend money on going somewhere I can forget about the greys, whites and dullness of the sky here. I want to go away so I can forget it and come back and love it again. As of right now, I'm mad at it.