Persephone: Parent

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Bumpity Bump

Is there some sort of rule when you’re pregnant? An unwritten one perhaps? One that says that everyone must name their unborn baby something? Some people choose something like Bean because it’s what their growing baby resembled on a scan. As someone who had a 7 week scan, I can attest that those 12 week babies look nothing like beans!

I completely understand that my actual naming of my bump is odd, but I do it because, personally I hate the term Bump. Am I the only one who gives the foetus an actual name? Elvis and Robin are not the true names of my toddler and foetus. Am I the odd one or are the people who call it Bump, Bean, etc?

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Congratulations! You Cease To Exist

A.K.A Grandparents think they’re far too important!

I am so going to get into trouble for this post! I got a text a while ago announcing a birth. It reads: Hi just to let you know Baby Blah Blah was born this morning. Mum is battered and bruised but my new grand daughter is worth it xxx

Oviously the baby was not named Blah Blah. No, first off, I found it very impersonal that the new babba’s Grand mother did the announcing. I don’t believe that it is a Grand parent’s prerogative to do this, although, perhaps she was tasked with this by both parents. It was my husband’s job, not my mother’s. But that’s me and my family.

Secondly, I found the message hugely disrespectful to the mum in question. Now maybe that is simply because I have had such an issue with identity since becoming a mother. From before Elvis was even born, my mother insisted every other day that no one would want to visit me, they were all coming to see Elvis. No one would care how I was coping or processing things, everyone would want to hold Elvis, know how he was doing. I would, according to her, cease to exist. What even to my husband and own mother? How can I cease to exist when I was, at that point, the person who had just had major surgery and was the most important person to that little baby?

So, perhaps due to my own issues, I find the comment that “my new grand daughter is worth it” almost revolting. Really I do. First off, what exactly did you do in getting the grand daughter? Wait outside in a waiting room, or back at home. Did you get battered and bruised? Maybe you did 30 years ago, but do you want the world to know that? Meanwhile, how does your daughter feel? Oh, you’re in pain, never mind you have a daughter now and I’ll shout it all to the world.

People have to stop only seeing the baby in a birth. People have to stop telling mums to get over the birth because all that matters is the baby that they have. People have to stop only wanting to see the new baby. People have to stop deciding that they are more important than a parent.

I think Elvis’ grandparents had an issue with me breastfeeding him. I had one grandparent ask me if I was breastfeeding purely to lose weight. I had another, after we’d started weaning him, declare as they fed him spoons of yoghurt “see, mummy’s not the only one who can feed you”. Do some grandparents think that their grandchild is a do over? Do they think they are as important, have as many rights as the parents? Why did we have some grandparents race across the country to meet their grandson and then never send a Christmas or Birthday card to him?

I can remember one hot August day last year when Elvis was still under 3 months old and we were too far from home when he got hungry/thirsty and would not stop screaming in his pushchair and I started to get really upset, walking as fast as possible to get him home and my mum, in the way she does, spoke to him as if he understood completely and said “You’re upsetting my daughter.” And I remember thinking, yes, I am still your daughter. I am not just the person who gave you a grandchild. I am still me. I will always be me and sometimes, selfishly, I want everything to be about me.

And that poor other new mum, in her battered and bruised state, was completely overlooked on the day that she did one of the hardest things a woman a can do, a day that can be one of the most amazing days in a person’s life, was ignored. Sure, that child becomes the most important person in the parents’ lives, but you still have to consider each other and others. And, as a grandparent, if you annoy the parents, you can be written out of the story.

Have you ever felt pushed out of your own family by others?

~ P

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Baby Envy

Firstly, Elvis and his tempers have gone! He is having trouble with his naps sometimes (dropping to 1 but length depends on time of day) but whatever his problems were they seem to have settled down. I think it was just the upheaval – the move, the changes in nursery, the house guests. I am so relieved. I mean, it does make me wonder if when Robin arrives, Elvis won’t have some sort of regression with his tempers, but that’s in another few months.

I’m trying to encourage Elvis to walk more. He loves walking and running, but if I have the pushchair he just wants to climb in it. I don’t really blame him. The only thing is I haven’t bought, and really don’t intend to, a double pushchair. I will try and get a buggy board, but he needs to be walking home from nursery in January/February. And it’ll be raining and snowing which will either encourage him because it’s fun or not! Am I putting too much faith in / pressure on him?

On an amazingly positive note, Elvis let me hold a baby! Back in July he wouldn’t even let me go near one. I was his. I knew that he would have to adapt to Robin, but I hoped he wouldn’t have that immediate jealousy. Well, he let me pick up and then comfort jiggle my friend’s 6month old. I think he’s also making steps with sharing, too. There’s hope for Robin!

No, there’s hope for all of us!

~ P

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Number Two/How?????

I read a blog by Mum of Boys, and, well, oops, I didn’t plan a second, but, here are my thoughts (my initial thoughts are – What? I won’t be welcome at under-1 groups? At all? Or at my mummy friends houses? How will playdates go for Elvis? How will they go for Robin? Holy, crap.)

  1. Apparently the second pregnancy will be harder, there’ll be no lazy cuppas with other pregnant mums-to-be and you’ll be covered in food, dressing more practically
  2. Being unwelcome at Mummy groups – or your toddler and “been there done that attitude” won’t be welcome
  3. More sleep in the hospital than in the few years leading up to then
  4. You will welcome visitors, simply to entertain the toddler
  5. You will be up and on your feet much quicker, if only to get the toddler out of the house!
  6. You will not sleep when the baby sleeps, you’ll be watching toddler TV
  7. No morning lie-ins after a night of feeding
  8. There will be no time for friends and a social life, even online
  9. You’ll “miss” the developments of the second as they appear from out of nowhere whilst your attention is on the older child
  10. You will not, even for one second, regret the decision to have number 2.

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Where’s My Boy Gone?

No, I don’t mean the cliché that every other parent around me says – the: “Where’s my baby gone?” Nope, and anyone who ever told me that “you’ll miss these baby days, the new-born phase and wonder at 1 where your baby went”, news for you – never wondered that.

Neither do I mean that I’ve literally lost him. Nope, I just want to know where the happy, independent, loves nursery boy has gone.

A few weeks ago, he complained if Daddy drove past the nursery looking for a parking space, as if Daddy wasn’t taking him there. A few weeks ago, he refused to be carried up the stairs at nursery, refused to be lifted over the safety gate by a nursery worker, wanting to walk himself and straight to the toys. And then they changed his playroom and he started crying at handover.

Well, now, apparently, he kicks off entering the nursery. Or approaching it in the car. I have to give him credit for recognising the place from the car outside on the street, but why does he suddenly apparently not want to be there? Because I saw him the other day as I went to collect him, I snuck in and peered around a door frame and there he was giggling away and playing. He’s never come home with strange marks (he gets more bruises at home than there!), always has a clean bum, never got a red bum, sometimes he’s clearly slathered in bum cream. He’s not even unhappy when he sees me, or relieved.

He has started throwing a strop before we leave the nursery, but it feels more like he’s trying to stay. So, he grabs at Daddy to not leave him, and then pushes away from me and slams gates closed to stay.

I honestly have no idea what his problem is, what has caused this or how to stop it.

Is it because they changed his room and he doesn’t like it?

Is it because soon after moving room, we moved home and he’s not sure where he stands anymore? He’s only been at nursery for three months, that’s 12 weeks of a lot of changes.

He was ill the other week (I thought teething, but no tooth arrived), is this a lasting effect? Is he still a bit ill?

Is it because we don’t have a safety gate upstairs so I don’t give him freedom and independence up there at the moment? Unless we’re in a rush, I allow Elvis to control where-ish he wants to go. After a nap, for example, if he wants to play upstairs, I do some tidying until he approaches the stair gate. Is he rebelling against that lack of freedom?

Will I ever know?

~ P

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Surprises

I’ve moved house. Yay?

Well, I absolutely ache all over. I am never moving house again. Never ever ever. Except if we ever decide to make the move out of town to get the garden. If hubby starts down a new road at work. Or if we win the lottery. Or if we have more than 3 children. When those things are satisfied, I’ll consider moving. But one thing I do promise is that I am never moving whilst pregnant ever again!

I last moved about 2 years ago. Pregnant with Elvis. Why didn’t I learn from that event?

All I really did was make sure that stuff was packed, unpacked a few bits and bobs. Oh, yeah and went on a mammoth walk because Elvis needed a nap and there was no bed ready for him (despite all of my planning, someone did not get my toddler’s room ready first). I ache. The only thing that hasn’t really hurt at some point over the past few days is actually my pelvis! So, nothing actually pregnancy related (on that note, I think I’ve ballooned over night and am clearly pregnant – bump is also harder now so less like a ball of fat!). It’s been quite stressful.

Do you know what kept me going through the worst moments? Through the arguments, the hang up phone calls, the pain and exreme tiredness? Elvis!

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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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My Breastfeeding Journey: 12 Months Later

I might post this a little after 12 months, to see how the holiday affects our feeding, but I do know that I am so proud of myself. At the beginning, I could not imagine even making it two weeks, then one month and then six months seemed doable and manageable. In fact somewhere after 4 weeks, it all just clicked and everything blurred until I realised he was six months old and BAM! Now we’re at the ultimate goal, the finishing line I really thought I’d never even see.

In those first few weeks I read the horror stories – breastfed babies who only feed to sleep, breastfed babies who drop all of their daytime feeds at 4 months and feed every 2 hours overnight, babies over one who still need to feed constantly overnight whilst you’re trying to manage work, parenting and being a person. All of those fears coupled with the pain and the fact that neither of us were naturals, meant that the idea of keeping going for a year was just a dream.

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#ThrowbackThursday: Elvis Has Left the Womb

This is a reposting of the blog I wrote 365 days ago, on day 288 of my pregnancy. I have no recollection of writing it or even what I wrote. That makes me scared to read back the other early day blogs!

Day 288 or term plus 13 according to scans and I am well and truly utterly in love with my son.

I am alone with him on a post natal ward (there is a mother with her daughter) and I am already terrified as I have no idea how to be a parent. It brought tears to my eyes.

I also know that I love him like no other, which brought tears to my eyes.

I got rather high on gas and air earlier and was convinced of so many ludicrous things but one, quite logically if you read my blog or know me, was that we wouldn’t end up a happy family of 3. I was convinced of it (high) and demanded my husband choose our son (drugged up) when neither of us was ever at risk!

But after these two really long days I can say with pride that I’m finally a mother and have made it from the trenches, across No Man’s Land, survived the Waiting Game and am now on the other side.

Elvis has left the womb, folks, and entered my family.

Love to everyone who reads this,
~ Persephone M

Here’s to the next 365 or 288 days!

Happy first NameDay, Elvis, first of your name!

~ P

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Out with the Old…

… And in with the new.

That’s how I’m seeing Elvis’ birthday and holiday to Spain; when we return there are about 5 weeks until we graduate and start nursery/work. That is 5 weeks to establish a new routine to at least guide the nursery as best as we can.

Currently our routine looks roughly like this most days –
0700 Mummy get up
0730 (unless still asleep) Elvis get up.
0930 (unless a baby group) Elvis nap until 1130
1200 (unless his nap started later) Elvis lunch
1500 Elvis nap, unless he had enough or had a late nap in the morning, then this is at 1600
1700 Elvis dinner
1815 Elvis bath, story, milk and then bed at 1900.

All I know about the 5 weeks post holiday, and graduation, is that I want the 1700 onwards routine to remain un-altered and that we’re all going to have to get up at 0630. Presumably I will have to add one or two snack times in if breakfast is earlier and his naps may simply time shift.

Or they may not; that’s what the 5 weeks prep are.

I’ve never fully dictated Elvis’ schedule before, not how I will dictate and change his waking time and it is a little scary!
~ P

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