Persephone: Parent

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Lonely Parenting

For the first 9 months, minus the first 2 maybe, my life was filled with baby groups and chatting with the other mummies, mummies whose babies are all the same age. But then, the 9 month mark hits and mummies have to start going back to work. I made it to Elvis’ 13 month birthday, but for those last 4 months, life became more lonely.
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Changing The Routine: An Update

I thought it had been ages since I last posted, but it’s only really been 8 days. But that was a standard post that had been sitting in my drafts for ages.

I think it’s fair to say that I’ve become quite complacent about blogging. I did write a few poems the other weekend and set up scheduled posts on my original blog to see it through to Christmas! I also have an idea about a photography series on here.

What I really need to do is find the motivation to post!

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A Collection of Thoughts

This might be a weird post, designed to be a collection of posts that I can send out to the blogosphere all in one go. One day. Eventually. Maybe. Each blog will be separated by the date and time of writing, done as a quote to separate them.

First up: May 7th 2014

My period’s late. I just don’t know how late. My diary says that I had a period 9 weeks ago. I never marked down the next one, but we’re sure that there was a next one, so we think I’m a week late.

Hubby wants me to take a test. Two weeks ago, I had hyper crazy pre-menstrual symptoms, a week before I was due. I was convinced, hormonally, that I was about to start. The next morning I woke up and nothing. Two weeks later and there’s still nothing.

I tried to tell him that I don’t feel like I did before. He argued I had three follicles, three eggs, three times the pregnant hormones.

He still wants me to take a test.

I can’t even bring myself to buy one.

I’m about to go on holiday and my body used to be amazing at being regular as clockwork and then be late or early to spoil a holiday. I want to believe that’s what it is doing, because I cannot take a pregnancy test.

If I go and buy a test, that means that there’s a chance I’m pregnant, that means that I have hope, that I want to be pregnant and that all means that when it says negative, my heart will break. And where will that leave me next month? If I buy a test it makes it real. With reality comes pain.

It didn’t happen for three whole years, why would it happen now?

May 9th. Again

I bought the test.

Might do it tomorrow.

I bought it though when I had a conversation with a friend in my mind. The friend isn’t in my head, she was on holiday so I had a conversation with her in my head. In my head I told her that I was afraid. She says what of.

And that’s where I thought.

I’m afraid of testing and making it real. I’m afraid of wanting a pregnancy. I’m afraid of it hurting if this is just a hormone imbalance – blame it on the breastfeeding.

And it dawned on me. If, and I mean if I test, if it’s negative and if it hurts then I try and convince hubby to move up our see the doctor date of January 2017.

A negative result is not the end.

11th May.

I took the test yesterday.

For the second time ever, I took a pregnancy test and got a positive.

I don’t believe it.

For the first time ever I got pregnant through sex.

I honestly thought this blog post would be a collection of a few days of me wondering. I never thought it would be the chronicles of the beginning of a pregnancy.

We’ve only told 2 people so far. Everyone knew about Elvis from before I even ovulated, or the potential of him, anyway. So this one’s going to be a secret. This one’s going to be a surprise to everyone that we love, their gender will be a surprise, their exact conception and due date is a surprise!

I never thought this would happen to me. Honestly, sex does lead to pregnancy!

12th May 2014

well, today was my original due date for Elvis and I type this as he plays in the corner with his cookie jar shape sorter. I never imagined I’d be sitting watching my almost 1 year old whilst, apparently, pregnant. I never imagined it happening with Elvis being any age really!

With regards to this pregnancy, I’m as tired as I was at this point last time. It’s daunting, I guess. I can’t just nap whenever I need. And what about the morning nausea I had last time? It made me pretty much useless at work until I’d had my cheese and onion crisps and small bottle of lemonade. How can I indulge my pregnancy moments with Elvis?

And those thoughts lead into thoughts of Elvis having a sibling, doing the newborn thing again, which I hated last time, trying to still have rime for Elvis whilst also having time for a new one.

One big plus, I’ll essentially finish the first trimester before even returning from maternity leave!

I’ve become the cliché.

May 19th 2014

Two days until Elvis’ first birthday and I’m “still” pregnant. I don’t feel it at all. I still have no symptoms, or none of the ones I had with Elvis.

I keep worrying that it means there’s something wrong. Or that something will go wrong. I’m now about 6.5 weeks pregnant, I was about to have a scan at this point with Elvis. I’d have to pay to do it with this one, but can I wait until 12 weeks?

I have an odd appetite, either going hours without food, filling up too quick or being ravenous. I keep getting leg cramps in the night. But I’m on holiday and my diet’s altered.

Saturday 24th May

it’s Elvis’ birthday party today. I stopped breastfeeding him. I feel bloated. I’m probably about 7 weeks pregnant. I don’t feel quite as tired, or I can fight it.

I’m nauseous. All the time. Evening. Morning. How can I be a parent, running to and hugging the toilet bowl all of the time? And my pelvis is already starting to hurt, far earlier than last time!

At least I feel pregnant!

26th May

For the past two weeks, since I got the BFP, hubby has been on holiday and home with me and Elvis the whole time; tomorrow he returns to work and I’m really anxious about it.

What if I get too tired?

What if I get nauseous?

I’ve made a decision regarding Elvis and based on my pregnancy – I stopped breastfeeding. I needed time off. I haven’t always enjoyed BF Elvis and I didn’t want to keep going and resent it again too soon for the next baby. I’m aware that, or at least am afraid of, this might not be real or viable (nothing to say that, just fear) so I may have made a mistake, but I made it a year and I think we were done even without this pregnancy.

Thursday 29th May

I am so tired. Honestly. I could hibernate a few months. Truly, I don’t remember being this tired first time around. I’m having to find afternoon groups so it forces me to stay awake. I wish the weather were nicer so I could take Elvis to the park.

Yesterday, after 12 hours overnight, I had a 1.5 hour nap as Elvis took his morning one. I’m feeling a bit better today. At the moment.

I also got really horrible nausea yesterday whilst out shopping. Guess it’s time to stock up on cheese and onion crisps.

I’m finding the whole secrecy thing difficult. Last time pretty much everyone knew due to the treatment, asking me moments after I took the pregnancy test. This time 5 people know. I feel guilty when I’m at a baby group now, because I’m lying to those mums and some are noticing my mood’s different. But I promised myself, when pregnant with Elvis, that a second pregnancy would be more private. I promised.

May 30th

I had energy yesterday. I wasn’t completely exhausted all day. I had a serious bout of nausea, but fought it. Then I had insomnia last night (which might just be my normal) and I feel like I shouldn’t be functioning right now. But I am.

I keep having this serious feeling or urging to run away. How am I supposed to deal with two children so close in age? Can I afford nursery for both? Will I be able to work? Will I be able to take them both to swimming lessons?

My husband’s currently nursing a hangover, taking a half day from work and lying in bed. When’s my day off? Why can’t I run away?

12th June

Okay the nausea is mainly passed, touch wood, and I don’t feel fully exhausted all of the time. I’m also feeling lots better about being a mum, being in this position and having me time.

I have discovered over the past two days that I have pregnancy skin and I don’t mean that I’m glowing. Nope, I get dry, red, flaky awful skin. Last time I ended up unable to allow water to touch my face in the morning as my face over-reacted. Time to stop washing my face!

~ P

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If Only You Knew

Today, I rather randomly took a wander down memory lane and read most of the poetry on my original blog Muse Persephone. It was because I was updating it with the poem I posted here last week, but reading back on over 4 years of my thoughts, made me realise something with regards to part of my recent identity crisis (that’s what I’m calling the fact that all I have wanted over the past two weeks is some time for me, some selfish, me be the centre of everything time. Seeing as I have barely had the focus on attention in 14 months, I figured a few days over my birthday was okay. Others thought not, not helping my identity crisis).

Apparently, during these few weeks where all I have wanted for a few hours across a few days was to be me, to have things be about me, and not about me being a mum, I have upset people. I have angered people. I have worried people. For all three I am sorry. For people that I upset or angered, without them noticing the worrying features of me the past few weeks, well, that’s maybe kinda shameful on you really. Parenting isn’t easy. The changes that occur, aren’t easy. I have always dealt by venting online. It just so happens that no one ever realised before.

On reading some of my older poetry though, I realised that for all of those people that I upset and angered, to those that I was disrespectful to, or showed ungratefulness to, if a few facebook statuses upset you or showed you my true feelings, you really should have been reading all of the other facebook statuses for 3+ years, the ones that link to my original blog and home of all my poetry. And take a guess at which ones are about you as a collective! I’ve been accused of telling the world that I had a problem with someone (who couldn’t tell me that they had a problem with me doing that so clearly they’re being adult about this) when, in truth, I named no one and put it on my private facebook. Uh, hello? I’ve had a completely public blog for years.

In fact, don’t bother trawling through all my poems and trying to guess which ones are about you. Some I don’t remember the point of! Here are some:

Some of these may also have strong links to the identity crisis stuff, because apparently I’ve always felt invisible to those who supposedly matter and I guess it’s true if it took them this many years to notice how I feel about them.

~ P

 

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Batman and Robin

Picture1

This was how I was supposed to announce my second pregnancy, not in some rage/depressed filled way the other day! Just as the little Batman above was named Elvis as a bump and for his online persona, bump/baby 2 will be Robin – the side-kick and also a gender neutral name. Just in case.

And here is “Robin”:

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Happy weekend!

~ Persephone M

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Trying to be Me

Today was an absolute disaster. From me being so dumb that I waited for a train on the wrong platform after double checking, to the disaster that was London Film and Comic Con.

I don’t want to get in to what happened there. Some bad organisation from the organisers and from customers. Some very bad locations for a 2 plus hour queue (direct sun, no opportunity to sit or grab extra water without losing your place) which all meant I didn’t get to do what I wanted to do. But this post isn’t about that.

This post is about why I’m so affected by it not going to plan.

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Poem: Summer

The leaves barely move as the gentle summer breeze whispers over them
Still and quiet, nonexistent
Commuters bustle on, buzzing around, droning on, staring into space
Barging past, knocking and jostling, pollen transfers and stems break
Fallen to the floor in a disregarded heap, waiting for the next whisper to move them on
Even as new flowers bud, new leaves sprout, every day simply passes by as the summer thunders do
A life giving sun beats down, burns down upon the withered
As bathers simply lie back, enjoying another’s Hell on Earth
Routine as clockwork, bullets whoosh past in reality, normality
A horrendous, inescapable normality.

Go on your day. Notice these things. Just once.

Notice me.

(C) Persephone M 12th July 2014

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Mummy Moment: Day Away #LFCC

After 13 months of just being a mum (which has nothing wrong with it, but is not for me), in the past 3 weeks I have returned to working a 12 hour week and am now sitting at a train station at 0720 in the morning, about to head off to one of my conventions.

It’s daunting.

I mean, I am not one who gets soppy at leaving my son, but I have never, ever, ever left him alone ALL day. I didn’t even see him before I left. I might not see him when I get in.

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