He Graduated,

I know it's something I have previously railed against, though whether on this blog or not I can't remember, but I'm using the word graduated for my little man even before he's left university with a degree. I guess I've got into the if you can't beat them join them camp, where kids graduate the NICU, nursery or pre-school etc and anything else we can think of before an actual graduation.

What am I talking about specifically? Little man has graduated from the Snoo.

When I bought that thing there were a few people who thought I was crazy for spending several hundred quid on a used bassinet, and I'm sure that my partner was one of them, but it was something I knew that I wanted and it wasn't worth anyone arguing with me. We saw it working before we took it home with us, and actually I was pleasantly surprised by everything that came with it for the price - two sleeping bags in each of the three sizes, anti-colic legs and about four mattress covers as well as the dust bag for the whole thing, and all for around a third of the price of just the bassinet by itself brand new. It wasn't just that it felt like a bargain, but it felt like an opportunity to sleep more than we would without it and I firmly believe that we got that from it. It was so important that it even came with us on Little Man's first holiday to Yorkshire, but that was mainly because it was what he was used to and he had already fallen out with the bassinet by then so we weren't really too excited to see how he reacted to a travel cot.

When the midwives visited us, and the health visitor, they were all a bit sceptical, and some were more keen than others to be open to the idea, because when you say it swaddles the baby and restrains them that sounds pretty scary, but it's just that they're "clipped" in so that the motion of the bassinet doesn't move them too much. It plays them white noise, it rocks them and it "listens" for them being disturbed. If it can settle them back down, great, and if not, it stops and it notifies your phone to say it's stopped, which worked well as a baby monitor when he started sleeping through the night and going to bed earlier, because we didn't need to be perfectly in hearing range. We could actually go out into our garden!

But all good things come to an end and at six months, a certain weight limit or when the baby can roll, they need to come out of it, and Little Dude is now rolling, so out he had to go. It was also kind of important to me to get him used to the cot before we go and see My Chemical Romance at the end of the month because he can't come with us sadly (yes, I would have taken him, as long as he had his ear defenders on) so will need to be babysat, and I wanted that to be as easy as it can be on all of us. 

The little guy isn't yet six months, though that's coming in a couple of days, but he is rolling and had taken to kicking the crap out of the end of the Snoo, and I wasn't sure how well it would take to that. 

It's only been a few nights and it's not been perfectly plain sailing - he's gone from sleeping through the night to a couple of wake ups, but that happened before he came out of the Snoo so was not solely down to the change - but he's still sleeping pretty damn well and it means we get our room back, the Snoo can retire to the loft (once all of the sleeping bags have been washed) and we're moving towards our next milestone, which is either sitting or crawling.

And I get to feel bad that the six month mark has rolled around so quickly that we've STILL not decorated the nursery. I can kind of understand why people do it before the baby arrives now, because I feel like I blinked and these six months have gone by...

Nappies,

I don't know if I am behind on this or not, but recently I realised that despite a lot of effort into being super prepared for the whole life of nappy changes etc, we messed up and were running out of nappies in the right size. Now, I've been a bit obsessive in terms of making sure that when the little guy moves up a size we have something to move on to or move up to as it were, but when you're not ready to move up to another size putting on something too big is just bulky and uncomfortable. Now, we were in an okay position because if all else really failed then we would have been able to use the reusable nappies we had originally planned on using full time, but we've done the reusable nappy thing and I found it too difficult to keep up with the changing and the washing and the drying etc which comes with them, which is why we stopped using them.

Anyway, obviously we're not stupid, so when we were getting to the point in the stack of nappies where it was touch and go of how long they would last us, my partner suggested going to Costco for a box, but it's not near us at all, and the amount of money saved on a box of nappies would be less than the amount we spent on the fuel to get down there, especially since it would have been a rush after work, so instead my partner went to Aldi. I told him to get the size that we needed, because if the baby is a size 2 in nappies, they're a size 2 in nappies, right? Wrong.

When I looked at the nappies we had in the house, which were a few different sizes across different brands, I realised that each different brand seems to come up with their own different sizing. Little one was still a size 2 in Costco nappies and could wear a 2 in Pampers, but also fit into a size 3 in Pampers, is a 3 in Mum and You's and needs a 3 in Mamia Aldi nappies as well, so I had more nappies in the house that I thought I had which fit him, but it wasn't until I was putting him into the Aldi size 2s that didn't fit that I realised that they didn't fit him. Now that we've been able to get to Costco for the nappies we use the most, I've also realised he's not going to be in the size 2s in that for long either though and I'll be surprised if we make it to the end of this box, because he seems to be going through a growth spurt right now.

There seems to be a big thing at the moment about whether or not some nappies are day or nighttime nappies according to the picture printed on them, and I honestly hate the fact nappies seem to be getting more and more complicated. I kind of regret not sticking to the reusables for longer, but then they weren't as easy as I wanted them to be, and now that baby has started weaning, it means that changing poop nappies, or rather cleaning poop nappies, is even more messy than it was when he was breast fed, on formula, or mixed fed.

One of the other reasons this is such an issue is because babies don't get weighed all that often. The health visitors and midwives come and weigh them at the house in the first few weeks, but then the six month visit is something that can happen over video chat, so obviously they don't weigh them then. I considered getting a scale, but it's just another big thing that I would have to store in the house which I really don't need. The best I can do is get on a scale holding him, then put him down and get back on the scales and take one number off of the other in order to get a rough idea, but it's not brilliant and given that postpartum is a rough time for me, my body and my weight, getting on the scales regularly isn't exactly doing me any favours on that one. Basically, every size change is a best guess, just like the change of size of clothing is a guess, because he really is a little one for his age, though at least most of the clothing runs to practically the same size or at least a lot closer than the nappies do! 

The Christening That Went Wrong,

When our son was born, my partner and I had always intended to get him christened, not because we were regular church goers ourselves (we were not) or even that anyone in the family is, but most of us describe ourselves as some form of Christian and so it felt important to bring our son into that as well as what some people see a christening as these days; a good reason to get everyone together to meet the baby.

Honestly, little man's christening was the first time a few people had met him and that was a really lovely experience for him, for them, for us getting to introduce him, but because of the church we do now attend with him, it was also a really lovely event because the Reverend has kids herself and she knows how to not only allow kids to be kids in church, but how to include kids in a service so it's not just that they are tolerated, but that they are very much loved and welcomed in the service.

I remember when I was younger that church could often feel stuffy and long, and it was something where we sat through it and got on with it and were moaned at or stared at if we wriggled, giggled or were anything other than statues effectively. I think it's one of the reasons I enjoyed being part of the serving team in church, because it gave me something to do, and I'm better if I'm occupied. Whether it was carrying candles, ring bells, swinging an incense handbag (I know that's not what it's called, but it's what it looks like, so that's what we called it) having something I could do, and it being something I was SUPPOSED to do was really helpful, but obviously you can't do that with very small children, can you? Turns out, you can!

The Reverend had my four year old niece and my friend's six year old come up and help her prepare the baptism water by splashing in it as she was praying over it, partly to keep the sound of the water in everyone's minds, and then when we were praying at the end, she used bubbles to represent our prays, and told us to think of the pop of the bubble being that that prayer was heard by God... and so the girls were there to pop the bubbles, and it kept them engaged, it got them involved and it brought even more joy into a very special day.

You might be wondering then, why it was the christening that went wrong...

Well, as far as I have ever known, it's not the sort of thing you send out a formal invitation to, but one of the biggest problems from that is then there's no real RSVP tradition, so when a caterer or venue asks you for numbers, it's like trying to pick a lottery number. We didn't want there to be masses of food left over, but also didn't want to have invited people to come and celebrate with us and then the food be like, two quarter sandwiches and half a sausage roll each because we had massively under estimated. As it was, we guessed the numbers about right, except for that on the day quite a few people came down with sickness bugs, and it's not even like they were all people who would have given it to each other (in each family, yes, but each group doesn't know each other) and it's not like they're from the same area where it could be something in the air or something in the water... 

What didn't help was a number of people in both of our families have hearing aids, and whether they weren't turned up, weren't turned on or the batteries were out, I don't know, but it meant that a lot of people were missing different announcements, whether it was that his Godmother was ill and couldn't be there (but the Reverend said it was fine and she was still his Godmother), where the toilets were (so someone was looking for the toilets in the toy corner) or a few other funny things which I'm not going to embarrass people with, it made it a bit of a comedy of errors at times.

I know some people might think it strange that we had our son christened before we get married, but it was something we wanted to get done (or maybe it was something I particularly wanted to get done and my future husband just went with, because he knew it would make me and members of both our families happy) and I figured I could use it as something of a dress rehearsal for myself and my son ahead of the wedding. As in, if I wear something white or cream or light in colour, is he going to puke on it or poop on it. I was organised, too, because I even had a spare dress in the car, and multiple outfit changes for baby (he had one outfit for the morning church service which was a Pooh outfit on purpose - if you know, you know, a cream baby grow for the Christening service which was what my brother wore for his - and I waited until the last minute to put him in it since the Pooh outfit didn't work - a baby grow that's designed to look like a baby suit for the party afterwards - God bless you Ted Baker, that thing is adorable! - and a spare for in case there were multiple accidents) and the only one that didn't get worn was baby's spare, because he was sick on my first dress, but I hadn't practised sitting in it either, and every time I sat down the neckline at the front rose and tried to throttle me. I tried remembering to move the back of it slightly as I sat down, but it was a bit on the short side, so there wasn't a lot of spare space to do that, so getting changed was also a comfort thing in the end...

One of the great things about having it as a trial run was being able to trial some of the sweet treats we want at the wedding - which was ace because they went well - including a version of one of the cakes, which went down a storm. I know as someone who bakes I should be more willing to spend the hundreds it costs to have a "proper" wedding cake, but my future husband doesn't much like cake, and I'm not much of an icing person. Also, I despise fruitcake. Even it touching another cake is enough to ruin the other cake for me, and traditionally the top tier of a wedding cake is fruit cake and it is saved for the Christening of the first child. Well, the christening already happened, and we did have a similar cake, so I guess we don't need a fruit cake!! (Yes, I did have a proper sh!t eating grin on when I decided that one... Some traditions in weddings are fine, but that particular one can suck it.)

It wasn't as though I was the only one that little man got with dribble or anything, because he caught his dad, too, and in the clean up left him looking like he'd missed when he went for a pee, but that taught us both something, I think. We need a cover or an apron of some description when holding the baby on the wedding day, there's no such thing as too many muslins (there is never such a thing) and the baby isn't going anywhere near my dress until we've had photos done.

As things go, it could have gone a lot, lot worse and it was a day of love and joy like it was supposed to be. Little guy slept through almost the whole thing, but that's what he does... football matches, rugby games and now his own Christening including when he was getting water poured on his head... and it was better than a screaming, crying, fussy baby. Everyone got to see him, see how much he's growing and smiling and laughing and learning, and he was fully and officially welcomed into his church family, including getting his first bible which has the cutest illustrations to help him follow along.

Rings on Her Fingers,

In complete honesty, I never thought I would be a fan of breastmilk jewellery and, I can't remember if I have mentioned this before, but when I was coming to the end of my pumping journey, I decided I really wanted to get a breastmilk necklace, because it was a long, hard journey and I was really proud of myself for how long I managed to carry on. It was difficult, but it was rewarding, and whilst it wasn't what I had imagined it to be before Little Man was born, I wanted the necklace to honour that journey. It even has his initial on it in a little charm made of my milk, which is gorgeous.

I've always understood the concept of inclusions of ashes, or hair, particularly when it's a person who has passed away, because at least it is keeping a part of that person with you, and it's the same with pet fur. I don't think anyone gets the kick particularly when it comes to inclusions of dried flowers, but maybe I'm wrong? 

I watched a reel this morning which was about a ring made with an inclusion of a different kind, and my initial reaction was ew. It was a ring which included a sample of sperm. Surprisingly the comments were not mostly ew, and I wonder why that is my initial reaction, but then the story behind why it was made does make it make more sense. I think the fact that my partner and I didn't have to have any medical intervention to have our son makes me feel differently about it, because that particular ring was made with a sample of sperm from the couple's IVF journey, and so... right, I can't think of any better way to put it than to be a bit vulgar, so we're just going to have to go with it.

When I was getting my breast milk necklace, it was made from milk I had expressed, or pumped if you prefer, to maintain my supply but after I had a drink (an alcoholic drink...) so I couldn't have fed it to my child. It was in a bag marked as bath milk only that I was keeping in case he had any issues like eczema, but,  touch wood, we're okay on that front. Had it not been that, I'm not sure how I would have felt, because I struggled to pump the amount I did for my son, and it might have felt selfish to have taken any of that for making jewellery. Had I not breastfed at all, and only expressed milk in order to make a necklace, again, it likely would have felt weird. 

IVF as a medical journey often means that men have to... express themselves? (My head is screaming at me to just say rub one out instead of trying to be delicate about it) to have testing done or to provide genetic material which will be used in the creation of embryos. Inevitably, it's an act of love backed up by science and a whole lot of hope to make it possible for a couple who have struggled to have a child be able to realise that dream, and there is a lot of power in immortalising that and I think acknowledging that meaning and that journey changes things.

Over history, jacking off onto someone or onto the image of someone has been about power, control, humiliation and things like that, and I think there are effectively scars on, let's call it societal memory for lack of a better term, that mean we have a gut reaction of urgh, jizz, bad, or maybe it's just like, urgh, bodily fluids, gross. I can understand the perspective of 'making jewellery from any bodily fluid is weird' and the cool thing about it is that this most of this stuff doesn't scream that that is what it is. It's a quiet and personal tribute. Obviously that's different when that gets shared on social media, because at that stage a poster is either inviting opinions or often trying to inflame opinions. The problem I have, and the problem I saw in my own reaction, was the differentiation between a tribute to breast milk that was produced to nourish the baby, and sperm which was surplus to requirement to make the baby in the first place, that was already expressed and used in a lab, so would have otherwise been discarded. 

If it was something where a person was made to wear it, then I think that would be obviously very different, because of the aforementioned issues in history where the intention behind it has been very different, and I think if it was supremely obvious that it was what it was - I don't know, like a sperm shape on a ring or something - it might be different, but since it's a quiet tribute which looks much like any other inclusion ring, it's probably not something that needs a whole lot of noise, but when the maker posted it on social media, it obviously creates a conversation, and there will always be accusations that they are doing it to be divisive, because that's what gets views and comments and reactions which keep the cycle going. Ultimately, it's not something like Megan Fox's engagement ring, where taking it off will cause pain and damage, and instead it feels like a nice thing to do with IVF byproducts, which can be another really difficult debate.

I started writing this a couple of weeks ago when I saw the video originally, but juggling being a mum, keeping "on top of" house chores, getting our garden de-nettled etc and every other thing we have going on at the moment, trying to get it finished and posted has been more than a challenge! Which is also the reason it's not being posted on one of the days I would normally try and post a blog. It's not that I have anything against Thursdays, but aiming for Monday, Wednesday and Friday sometimes seems more realistic to me, even if it's not so much at the moment.

The Path to Saying 'I Do' Part 5,

I fully appreciate that some people are distrustful of AI and some people just plain hate it and there are a lot of good reasons for that. I do, honestly, especially because I don't think there should be a debate about the fact that it's use should be able to get us to the point where we have more time for our passions, rather than less, or rather than the AI effectively doing our passion projects for us, like when it creates artwork, but...

When it comes to weddings there are a lot of people who have started wanting to do a lot of it themselves, whether because it works out cheaper or because it gives them a lot more creative control or just control generally. And I get it.

When we started planning our wedding, I was kind of aware of the fact that there were going to be all of these little bits of things which would crop up that we hadn't thought of or hadn't known about, but I also had a bit of a general idea of how much things might cost. My future husband, God love him, thought that the price we had from the venue was a package price and we'd have to get a suit and a dress (his dress is gorgeous... KIDDING) and rings, but that other than that it was sort of a plug and play thing where it was all done for us, and it has shook him how much there has been to do. (And I haven't even made him do most of it.) 

I think he was aware that wedding invites weren't in the scope of what the venue did but I think he was of the opinion that they couldn't really be that expensive, could they? And I was like, yeah, it says wedding on it. Whatever price you're thinking of, add a zero to the end and you're probably closer to the figure than you were with your first guess. It was like the conversation over the pram all over again. I looked into a few different options, but as some of them were going in the post and I didn't want two 'tiers' of invites, we wanted them to be flat and as few sheets of paper or card as possible. We were also still trying to sort out with the venue about the menu so just asked about allergies and not food choices at that stage, but a lot of places that I was looking at wanted to do an invite "bundle" with an RSVP card to physically send back, an "info sheet" and a menu options card... It was all getting a bit out of hand, so thankfully I used Canva to do our own and do them our own way.

Now, I've always been more autistic than artistic (it's fine, I am ND, I can make that joke, and I do, regularly) I was pretty impressed that I chose a design I liked that was completely the wrong colour scheme (although one I'm wishing had gone with our venue, because I looked at a burgundy suit over the weekend and liked it - not for me!) and changed it, then managed to change the design for the back of the invite to make it a bit more simplistic, but still on theme and cute, so we could pile a bit of info on there without it looking cramped or cluttered, but when it's come to other bits that I want to mirror the invites, I'm sad to say I just don't want to mess around with them the same way, and I just want to press the AI button and say do this next bit, whatever it is, like that, so it matches, and then it poofs and does it, but it's not working out that simple.

I'm not asking for rocket science, I just want a template for *one thing, or another thing, which I'm not going to put because I never quite know who reads this and they might be coming to the wedding...* but it keeps saying, nah, I don't want to do that, do it yourself. And then I want to scream. I mean, yes, I can do it myself, but I don't want to and I thought the whole point of AI being there and "making our lives easier" was that I didn't have to, but it seems that there is no such luck on this for the moment, so I'm just going to have to keep plodding on with it and hope it's done sooner rather than later... 

8.5.26,

There is a significant thing about today that I only came to realise a couple of weeks ago, and it made me happy, and it made me sad.

 

Today is Sir David Attenborough's 100th birthday; that's a lot of candles to fit on a cake. Like many British people, particularly the animal lovers, I do have a lot of love for Sir David. His book in the Little People, Big Dreams series is one which I sought out to buy for my son as opposed to one of the ones we've just kind of ended up with... It's also one of those which I have made a point of reading to my son, as opposed to some that I've left on the pile and we'll get to at some point. All this is to say that today is a day of great celebration because it is the centenary of an icon, effectively, but today is something else to me, too.

Today would have been the 100th birthday of my Grandpa, Jim. My grandpa Jim was my favourite person when I was a child. I've got a photo of a chubby little baby me sat on his knee on the Santa train, grinning my head off, probably because he was making me chuckle. We watched football together, even though I later decided I didn't like football - maybe it was because he wasn't there for me to watch it with anymore. He had a love of flat caps, old cars (or as he called them, cars), Man United, Frank Sinatra and Lancashire. He learnt German and told stories about World War 2. He served in the Navy, worked for P&G and pottered about in the garden. He had blue eyes, a cheeky smile and a soft voice, and I miss him so much.

When I was six weeks old, he went into the hospital for a second bypass surgery. He had had the first one ten years before, and the type of surgery that it was, at the time, was expected to last for about ten years, so what I was six weeks old, he needed it to be done again. My mum took me to the hospital with her and when my nana went to go and see if he was okay for visitors, Mum waited in the waiting room with me, and the next minute he was at the door, having walked down the corridor to come and see his granddaughter. I wasn't his first, I wasn't his last, but in the eleven and a bit years I shared with him on this planet I got to spend quite a bit of time with him and one thing I know is that it wasn't enough, but no amount of time ever would have been.

After he died, I wrote my first poem. It wasn't something I was asked to or told to write, but I sat and I wrote it, and we read it for him at the funeral, because it was just a kid trying to tell her grandpa how much she missed him already, and I have spent the next two decades and more missing him. I wish he had been there to see me go to college, and then to university, moving to London, graduating... coming back from London... learning to drive, meeting a man that reminds me of him in subtle little ways it took me a while to see, having my son, and later this year getting married... But especially meeting my son.

My son is named after my grandpa. It was a decision I had made myself a lot time ago, and it's a decision I'm glad my partner was okay with. I didn't want it to be his middle name or anything, but I wanted my first son to be named James so he could be Little Jim, Baby Jim, whatever nicknames, but he would share a first name with his Great Grandpa. I didn't know I was going to be raising a little blue eyed smiler who liked football and cars, but I love that he shares those things with his dad (not the blue eyes - that sort of skipped a generation) and that they're things he has in common with my grandpa. It's a different football team, but they both supported local football clubs, and by the time my son is old enough to drive he might not get a choice in the fact that cars are electric (though his dad will hopefully still have a couple of classics on the road including an old mini) but the main things, the main themes, are there. My son's already being raised on stories about how wonderful his Great Grandpa was, and that'll continue from both me and my mum, but it does mean that whilst I'm happy for Sir David, and his family, upon his 100th birthday, I'm going to spend the day feeling just a bit sad, too, because I wish Grandpa Jim was here to share it, and that he could spend today with my son. 

Grey's Anatomy Doesn't Feel The Same Anymore,

I have loved Grey's Anatomy for so many years, since I had to try and convince my mum to let me watch it (I was kind of sheltered at 12, okay?) and whilst I could have a moan about how only having the M left from MAGIC and even then, not all the time, makes it not as good, but honestly, I love it. I've loved the offshoots of Private Practice and Station 19, I love the political side of it... I just love it. I cried when Eric Dane passed away because he was so incredible in Grey's and I don't think I could have watched him in anything else and not expected him to be one of the Dirty Mistresses, but I put myself on a bit of a ban of watching medical dramas whilst I was pregnant, so no Grey's even for comfort watching, no Casualty or ER or This Is Going To Hurt or Bodies, because I was stressed and scared enough without adding fuel to that particular fire. 

In the first few weeks after the delivery of my son, I wasn't really watching a whole lot of television anyway, because I would have just fallen asleep on the sofa or fallen back to sleep in my bed, because I was, like all or at least most new parents, exhausted and trying to learn how to function, but you would think over 4 months down the line I would be able to lift that ban now? Well, not really.

Whilst I'm sure there would be a lot of people who would look at my situation and call me lucky, I did experience a level of birth trauma that I'm finding it hard to navigate. Whilst it wasn't the whole thing of being rushed in for an emergency C-section where the surgeons are racing against the clock to make sure the baby, me or both of us are not in danger, it doesn't mean it was easy, or an experience I want to repeat, and there are a lot of times where I feel like the situation I was in, the stresses and worries and circumstances, basically robbed me of the birth that I wanted and the impact that that had, especially early on, was huge, but it means that watching women in labour on TV programs is hard, and watching storylines about people experiencing complications is even harder. I know it's worse at the moment because even though our little guy is sleeping pretty well for a still pretty small baby, I'm not sleeping properly and I'm not a hundred percent sure as to why, but lack of sleep always means I have more of a hair trigger for things like this, so I've been having to ask my partner to mute things or skip through scenes, because I just can't cope with them right now.

It's the sort of thing that people tell you gets better with time, and I honestly hope that it does, but I think it's not just time, but distance, and distance requires not poking a wound, even a mental one, whilst it's still fresh and open and healing, so for now, I'm trying not to poke it by staying away from things which remind me why it hurts.