Daycare Blues

Darling Daughter (DD) had her first day at daycare last week. When Darling Husband (DH) and I dropped her off, she got straight down on the floor and started playing with all the toys. We stayed for about 10 minutes and when we left, we picked her up for a kiss and cuddle and she wanted to squirm out of our arms.

I'm lucky that we are in a position where she only goes one day a week and we can ease her into the hours. So the plan was to only leave her there for four hours.

We dropped her off at 8 and I have to admit that I really struggled to leave. I was all brave until I got to the car and I started getting teary. DH just doesn't seem to understand why I felt so bad though. 

So I drove home in the pouring rain and parked in my driveway and sobbed. The weather suited my mood perfectly. Why was it so hard? Why did I feel like I was leaving her? Why did my heart feel like it had shattered?

I came inside for about five minutes and decided that it was too hard to hang around all her toys. So what did I do? I went to the shops. I got birthday presents sorted, I had a coffee (which was free due to a voucher), and just wandered aimlessly. Then I decided to hit the other shopping centre for a while. 

Finally at midday, I went back to pick her up. Only to find that she was asleep. Deflated, I came home, again. Wrapped the presents I bought, went to the toilet in peace and then drove the long way to the daycare centre. At 1pm she was awake and had just done her very first painting. 

The smile I got when I walked into the room cleared all the rain clouds and I felt whole again, with my little girl with me. 

I'm still emotional over it and we've only got 2 more days before she goes again.

Please tell me it gets easier?!

Today I'm linking up with Essentially Jess for IBOT (I Blog On Tuesday)

We always knew

I've been quiet since IBOT.

I'm starting to feel a huge range of emotions which are only going to amplify over the next 9 days in the lead up to DD's 1st birthday.

As some of you may remember from reading my post The In Between, we got told at her 6 and 9 month milestone assessments that DD had failed and was behind. Even taking into account her corrected age.

Well, DD showed the Child Health Nurse today. Did exactly what she had to and then some, especially on the talking front. So, it's with great pleasure, excitement and pride, that I tell you DD passed her 12 month milestone assessment. 9 days early even!

I'm so pleased with how far she has come in 12 very short months. She's slightly ahead with her talking, and with a mum like me, that's not surprising. I could talk under wet cement!

So it's only a short post today. Alongside the happy feelings, there's a mixed bag, as I keep thinking back to exactly what I was doing on this day 12 months ago. Tomorrow would be 12 months since we had our 32 week scan and get told that our baby is head down, ready to go, my low lying placenta has moved and oh, look! Your baby is practicing breathing! We didn't know then just how much that phrase would mean in just one short week!!

That Darn Feeling

Ok, so yesterday I freaked out. Big time.

For two days, I'd had severe nausea and even vomiting in the morning. 

I honestly thought I was pregnant again, even though DH and I have always used protection, apart from when we were trying for DD.

When I threw up yesterday, DH said, "You're not pregnant, are you?"

That's when the panic set in. I rang my mum, all scared, wanting her to watch DD while I went and got a pregnancy test. In the end, I went and saw my GP because in my mind, the test was only going to give me a false negative. I became a human pincushion for bloods to be taken, I was so dehydrated. He rushed them through and one of his receptionists rang yesterday afternoon - I'm not pregnant! It's just food poisoning or a virus.

Why was I so scared? I'm just not ready for another baby yet.

There's quite a number of reasons, including the fact any further pregnancies are high risk, with lots of monitoring, early steroid injections, lots of scans, and a very good chance I will go premmie again, maybe even earlier than 33 weeks. I don't want to miss out on anything with DD while she is still so young. It wouldn't be fair to her to do it all again so early. Our house isn't big enough, we don't earn enough money, I can't risk losing my job. I mean, Centrelink would probably look a bit nicer toward us if we had more than one, but it still wouldn't get us through. 

Will I ever be ready for another baby? I honestly don't know. DH thinks I'm just being silly, but he's not the one who was left alone in the hospital at night, with no one to turn to if I needed to vent. He could have called his parents or mine, but I'm the sort of person who finds it very hard to talk about how I'm feeling sometimes. I also have trouble asking for help. 

There's no doubt in my mind that we would have just carried on and somehow gotten through if I was, but it was such a relief to know that I'm not pregnant. 

But I will say to you - if you ask for your steak medium well and it's still rare, don't eat it, no matter how starving you are!

I've linked up with Essentially Jess for IBOT today. Head on over and check everyone out!

The In Between

As you would all know by now, DD was prem. At 33 weeks. 

As we approach her first birthday, I thought I would share a few things from the last 11 or so months. 

Through Community Health, we were provided with home visits from a Child Healthcare Nurse. These visits didn't commence until DD was almost 6 weeks old, due to a lack of communication from our hospital.

We have constantly been told to remember that she was a prem and base a lot of things on "corrected age". That's all well and good, but intellectually, she's on par with actual age.

Physically, they told us she was behind. Their actual words were, "She failed."

Excuse me? The first time these words were said, she was 7 months old (5.5 corrected) and she failed her 6 month assessment. Simply because she didn't want to take her own weight.

What hope do kids have these days when they are that young and being told they are failing??

Fast forward to the 9 month assessment, done at 10 months (8.5 corrected) and we get told, "She's still failing. Actually, she's worse."

Excuse me, yet again??

Everyone says not to compare your baby to others, but we are constantly being compared and judged.

Our CHN told us to put her in the Jolly Jumper more. The physio she referred us to, told us that was the wrong thing to do. CHN told me that there's a group for babies of less than 32 weeks gestation to get together and play and work on motor functions. 

Sorry, you're failing, but you're not premmie enough to warrant help. 

That's what it felt like I was being told. That's the worse place to be. In between. 

Through my own perseverance, that of DH and my parents, we've been working with DD.

I'm pleased to say that she is now taking her weight, loves to stand and can get into so many places she shouldn't, even though they are blocked off from her. We did get confirmation from the physio that there is in fact, nothing physically wrong, she was just waiting to start in her own time.

We are still in between - walking and crawling! That's a better place to be.

The Journey Part 2

To follow on from yesterday's post....

This side will deal with how I went emotionally.

When my waters broke, I was calm. When they admitted me to hospital, I was calm. Two days of bed rest, I was bored, and still calm. The third day though, it suddenly hit me. I was going to have a premature baby.

DH had gone back to work by then, as there was no sign of labour and he was only a 5 to 10 minute drive away anyway. No point in wasting his holidays, which we were saving for when we took our baby home.

Day 3 saw me having to be cuddled LOTS by my parents. Those who know me, know that I hug, but my parents and I never really did. We knew we loved each other, we always said it, but the only things apart from DH to calm me down were my parents. The lump of emotion that constantly seemed stuck fast grew and grew and grew. 

They took me off bed rest, I walked the corridors of that ward like there was no tomorrow, trying to get bub on the way again to no avail. 

The night before my induction, I finally caved and asked for the medicine to help me sleep that I had declined the previous few nights. I still didn't sleep great. DH and my mum were at the hospital early. I remember the midwife wanting me to walk around, but as it took her, DH and mum to walk me to the toilet, it was decided it wasn't a great idea. 

When DD was born, there were a LOT of people in the room. 3 or 4 midwives, the OB and the Paed. They all arrived within 2 or 3 minutes from their rooms (the doctors) and I remember hearing DD screaming. Everyone was saying, "What is it??" My honest to goodness thought was, "I don't give a F*** what it is, IS MY BABY OK??"

DH and I were extremely lucky. DD was breathing on her own, didn't require ventilation but was tiny. We got a quick cuddle before she was rushed over to the Special Care Nursery (SCN). 

1 week later, the day I was dreading came. I was discharged. It was great that I got to spend so much time in hospital, being so close to DD. I missed DH and my bed greatly, but the love for my child made me want to stay so close. The Nurse Manager was quite abrupt and nasty to me, and then when the lady at the desk at the hospital asked if my baby was leaving with me, I broke down. 

Another issue I had was that Kangaroo care was encouraged for so many of the other parents, but not us. In that time, I kept asking myself why we were so unlucky that we couldn't use kangaroo care to help us.

Most of the people we came into contact with were great. There's a few very special ones who I keep in contact with, especially the midwife who took care of me on bedrest and spent some time in SCN looking after DD. And me. The conversations we had at times kept me sane. 

2 weeks after she was born, our first huge milestone - leaving the isolette for an open cot. 3 weeks after she was born, I got to room in for the night. At age 22 days, we brought our daughter home. It was so great to finally show the lady at the desk that we DID have a baby and we WERE going home. I wanted to sing and shout and dance around.

The biggest, longest rollercoaster so far was defeated. We were finally a family. Even now, I look back and wonder how I got through. I don't see myself as a strong person. But in that time, I had a strength I didn't know I possessed. 

There might be more to follow this, I don't know. All I know is that it is approaching 12 months since this journey began too soon. And I wouldn't change it for the world!

I'm linking up with Jess for IBOT