June 2008

PostingToodle pip

Less than two weeks to go until the baby's due date, and I'm taking a short break from blogging. It's so I can concentrate on the essential stuff - like lying here on the sofa, knitting teddy bears, going through Beanie's wardrobe to sort out clothes for the new baby, working on my husband to persuade him of my choice of baby names, drinking tea and annoying friends at work by phoning up for long chats. The outside world has become a scary and exotic place, since I'm more or less house-bound these days. Even a trip to the end of the road has become quite an undertaking. Husband gets worried if I suggest going out on my own, after I collapsed outside our local library last week and had to be rescued by Beanie's granny, who scooped me up in a taxi to take me home. Then I ended up in hospital on a drip a few days ago, where the medics advised rest. So, I'm trying to scale back commitments wherever I can. Blogging's become a bit of an addiction, so it'll probably do me good anyway to take a break for a while. It's not for ever; I plan on being back in the autumn, when things should be getting back to normal. Any other new or expectant mums reading this, best of luck to you all. I'll be thinking of you. And I'll ask my husband to post about developments with me and our baby as and when they happen.

Posted 27 June 2008 15:58 | Number of comments: 18 | Comments

Blogging Granny Husband New baby

PostingPaddington's Birthday

PaddingtonBear_Small.jpgAny Edinburgh residents among you might be interested to know The Children's Bookshop  is celebrating Paddington Bear's 50th birthday in the shop tomorrow. I am told there will be discounts on all Paddington books and free marmalade sandwiches available all day (bearing that in mind, we'll be taking some of these with us). There is also to be a colouring competition, the winner of which will receive a free copy of the brand new Paddington: My Book of Marmalade. written by 83-year-old author Michael Bond. If you get the chance, why not pop along and help celebrate a milestone in the life of a bear who must be Britain's best-loved illegal immigrant.

Posted 20 June 2008 13:50 | Number of comments: 0 | Comments

Books Edinburgh

PostingHome truths

Not off the hook after all for the home water birth. Not just yet, anyway. Structural engineer got back in touch to veto bedroom for the birth pool. But said our smallest room - the hall - looks like it will take the weight. Husband due to pick up pool, pipes, bleach, colander, heating pad tomorrow evening. Will buy waterproof torch, anglepoise lamp, waterproof sheeting at weekend. Scared? Me?

Unsure about giving birth in hallway. Doesn't feel quite right somehow. Will it be sufficiently private? Can't even remember how much privacy matters in childbirth. Is it a big issue? When was having Beanie, midwife got concerned about daughter's heart rate. Army of green-suited doctors, anaethetists and paediatricians entered through flowery curtain.

"Hello. Where have you all come from?" I asked.

"Did you not see your midwife press the emergency button?" one of them replied.

"Errr... no," I mumbled.

"Don't push," said the midwife, looking up from her notes. "Whatever you do, don't push."

"I'm not pushing!" I said, feeling like small child.

Funny the things you do remember; many of them were wearing clogs. But seemed fine with that. Not embarrassed, the way I would have been. There were phone calls, booking a place in the resuscitation unit, asking if theatre was free. No, we'd have to stay put. They brought out the forceps (I didn't look at that bit). Hauled daughter out of me as fast as they could. Beanie shrieked with displeasure as she emerged. I was a bit sore afterwards. Relief on face of  clog-clad paediatrician posted down bottom end to greet Beanie. "Baby can go straight to mum," she said.

After that drama, I liked idea of giving birth in tranquillity of own bedroom, where, ahem, this whole project started back in October. But do not want to become stupid and obstinate about home birth.

Read cautionary tale about woman who broke down in jealous hysteria when she got text message saying sister-in-law had 'achieved' a home birth. This woman described herself - no, defined herself - as HWBA3C. Yes, my thoughts exactly. Stands for 'home water birth after three Caesareans'. She claimed the Caesareans were violations 'inflicted on her in the name of medical science'.

Spoke to my midwife, whom I trust. Asked if true NHS does unnecessary interventions. "Look at it from a practical point of view," she said. "The NHS is careful with its resources. It has to be. There's not a lot of money available and funding is always being squeezed. Nobody likes to make things more complicated than they need to be. It's expensive to do a section. It's a question of beds and staff time. We only intervene when necessary."

Friend whose wife had their second child last year said: "It's the head count at the end that matters."

Posted 19 June 2008 10:20 | Number of comments: 15 | Comments

Childbirth Daughter Health Health workers Home birth Husband Water birth

PostingHot water

Bad news, I'm afraid. Looks like home birth could be in jeopardy. Husband has decided we can't risk having birth pool in flat without first getting engineer to check on wisdom of placing seventy seven gallons of water and pregnant wife on 200-year-old Georgian floorboards in second-floor flat. Such a spoilsport. Husband spent couple of hours yesterday afternoon taking up fitted bedroom carpet, prising off floorboard in the corner where I was hoping to site pool and discussing - in agitated manner - benefits of hand versus electric saws. I watched, worried, offered tea, felt guilty about causing him worry, tried (and failed) to think of something useful to say about the saws (knowing little of such matters) and did my best not to wince at the mess. ovalpool_Small.jpgWhen the structural engineer arrived, we tried to have laugh with her about the birth pool; but she just rolled her eyes and said she does this type of work a lot. They've seen it all, these people. Walk-in safes - for people who don't like banks. Hot tubs. What's a birth pool to her? She knelt down, donned big gloves and, after borrowing one of Beanie's plastic spoons, used it to scrape away at the layer of ashes under the floorboards placed there 200 years ago to 'deaden' noise between flats. They do a good job. We never hear a thing from downstairs. Fear, though, even ashes might not stop neighbours hearing me crashing through floor, chanting mantras learnt at pre-natal yoga, breathing imaginary gold ribbon in through the nose, out through the mouth, as taught in classes, and meditating. Husband, midwife and doula peering down from hole in ceiling. Would not be neighbourly thing to do.

This 'investigation' was meant to be a formality. To satisfy the insurance people. But it seems we may have miscalculated. The engineer put down Beanie's spoon. Looked serious. Said something that sounded like it should have been said by Scottie the Engineer on Startrek: "The floor joists can't take it." She would send us a full report today, but wasn't optimistic. Mostly, I was disappointed. But part of me felt something else - relief. Now I have to work out if I can handle a home birth without the pool....

Posted 17 June 2008 15:53 | Number of comments: 11 | Comments

Home birth New baby Water birth

PostingDouble trouble

Nipper360Double_Small.jpgCan anyone reading this blog advise on double buggies? I'm thinking of buying this fellow (the Nipper Double 360, pictured left) but I'd welcome any comments on what's worked well for other people. It's a contentious area. People spend as much on buggies nowadays as they would on a second-hand car. They've become a status symbol by which new parents define themselves. I'll never dare show my face at playground again if I don't get this decision right. And it's a tricky area; views on double buggies seems to divide like the Red Sea.

The main political fault lines are between people who favour:

a) double decker buggies (Phil and Ted) that stack one kid on top of the other.

and those who insist on the superior benefits of:

b) side-by-side models (like the Nipper 360).

It's a bit like the difference between people who like eating olives - and those who can't stand them. There's no middle ground. You have to belong to one camp or the other. You either like them, or you don't. Superficially, you know it shouldn't matter, but deep down you can't help forming judgements about a person on the basis of things like their taste in olives and double buggies.

Personally, I'm not keen on the Phil and Ted approach. There, I've said it. A paediatrician friend warned me she'd treated lots of children who got their hands stuck in the wheels of double-decker models. She's seen gruesome things, that girl. Also, she has four kids of her own. So knows a thing or two about twin buggies.

Plus, I can't imagine it does much for sibling harmony if one child spends her formative years in the lower bunk. The view ahead an outline of older child's backside.

But then, the side-by-sides aren't the solution to everything either. I can remember years of petty bickering with my sister (thirteen - yes, just thirteen - months' age difference between us) in one of them.

I've also become horribly superstitious. When we do decide on a buggy I'm going to ask the pram company to send the chosen vehicle to my mum's. Until the baby arrives. Still can't believe this is happening. Despite the kicks in my stomach as I type. Felt this same way with Beanie. Was only when the midwife wheeled a plastic cot into the delivery room it sank in properly - my God, there was going to be a  baby. Now I look back at the years before she arrived, and think, "Where was she then? Who was looking after her if she wasn't with me?"

Posted 16 June 2008 11:49 | Number of comments: 23 | Comments

Kit Out and about

PostingAppearing at Edinburgh Book Festival

abeautifulday_Small.jpgAll confirmed for my appearance at the Edinburgh International Book Festival on Friday, August 15 from 2pm to 3.30pm. An advance copy of the brochure arrived by post this morning. Here is the blurb about the event:

Books, Blogging and the Internet

How can writers best use the internet to produce and promote their work? Ex-Sunday Times journalist Helen Fowler, who secured her first book deal after publishers stumbled on her popular blog (you're reading it now) guides you through social networking, turning blogs into books and the benefits of an online presence.

Tickets (£12, £10 concession) go on sale to the public from 20 June and the brochure is available from tomorrow, 12 June.  Please come along if you're in the vicinity.

Posted 11 June 2008 15:29 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

Books Edinburgh

PostingSummer holiday

Earlier this week two-year-old daughter went on her first proper trip anywhere without me or her dad. I wanted so much to be cool about this; after all, in the scale of things, the trip wasn't that big a deal. I used to hate feeling smothered by my well-meaning - but over-protective - parents.

DSCF2644_Small.JPGAs trips go, this looked pretty innocuous. Beanie's nursery was hiring a bus to take all the children to a seaside town about thirty miles away from where we live. The most hazardous part of the expedition would involve a journey along the nearby motorway in a mini-van, but the driver was the same man who drives all the toddlers to swimming every week. The town in question is a bastion of stone villas, cafes and golf courses, interspersed with hotels that host conferences and weddings.

But this was her first parent-free jaunt - and I couldn't help worrying. (The picture above is of Beanie at the seaside earlier this year - under the watchful gaze of her father.)

The nursery staff were excited about the trip for days beforehand. So much so that voicing my terrors to them seemed a bit rude. They're always kind and cheery with me, Beanie, her granny and her dad. Beanie loves it there - and I wasn't keen to say anything that might rock the boat. Like questioning their ability to look after her for a single day.

"I'm a bit nervous," I finally confessed to one of the nursery assistants last week.

"Why's that? What is it you're worried about," she asked kindly.

I gulped. Might as well be honest "I'm worried you're going to lose her," I replied. I should stop reading the news, all those stories about missing children just frighten me.

She laughed. In a nice way.

"We've got strict staff/child ratios," she said. "And we've been doing this trip for years. It's well organised. We're not going to lose her. We've not lost one yet. Don't worry about that."

I believed what she said. But, even so, spent most of the night beforehand unable to sleep. On the one hand, I didn't want Beanie to miss out on the fun of a seaside trip. And on the other? I couldn't get over my fear of some mishap. I just didn't know what to do for the best.

Eventually I decided I'd tell the staff she couldn't go - no shame in that. They'd understand. What with the pregnancy (five weeks to go, by the way) and everything.

The morning of the expedition dawned. I was hollow-eyed from lack of sleep, pelvic pain, pregnancy weariness and (although I didn't know it at the time) a kidney infection. My husband brought me a cup of tea in bed.

"So, have you made your mind up?" he asked me. "Is she going or not? You'll need to ring nursery and let them know."

I rang nursery, where the woman who answered the phone sounded giddy and excited, making me feel churlish not to enter into the spirit of things.

"If Beanie doesn't go on the trip, will there be anyone left in the nursery to look after her?" I asked.

"No, I'm sorry, there won't be. We're closing the nursery until 4.30pm," she said.

"Well, in that case," I started, trying to keep panic out of my voice, thinking of the work deadlines stacking up ahead of me, the midwives' advice to go to hospital for an emergency check-up, the stomach pains that could be signs of early labour (but thankfully weren't). "Well, in that case," I repeated. "I guess she'd better go."

I'd love to say I let Beanie go because I got over my nerves. But, truth be told, in the end, it was expediency that won out.

When she returned later that day, with sand in her shoes, socks and trousers, tired and happy, she looked puzzled as to why I hugged her so tightly.

Posted 04 June 2008 23:21 | Number of comments: 10 | Comments

Daughter Nursery Work vs mothering

PostingDaddy dearest

Good to see it's not just older mums getting stick. The poor old dads come in for some flak too in this article, which reveals why starting out life with a dad older than 45 can - allegedly - be bad news for babies' health. Dr Jin Liang Zhu, from the Danish Epidemiology Science Centre, said: "The risks of older fatherhood can be very profound, and it is not something that people are always aware of." Well, no, I guess not. Scientists have been too busy disparaging older mums to have time for the dads. Still, I don't expect the research will put ageing pop stars and business magnates like Mike Oldfield, Rod Stewart and Rupert Murdoch off fathering more youngsters. And I bet they don't get half as much criticism as mums over 40 do.

Posted 02 June 2008 18:28 | Number of comments: 2 | Comments

Older mother