My dearling Harland. 

I remember your birth like it was yesterday.

They called your daddy into the hospital as it was time to meet you. You decided you didn’t want to be inside anymore and made it known. A little early, but you couldn’t wait. The twisting and turning was horrible, but it was time. 

My doctors and specialists and  anesthetists gathered and made the decision to bring you into the world, kicking and screaming. I think I did most of the screaming. You didn’t. You needed a lot of help to get going. We could have lost you…glad we didn’t. 

You were so so tiny. 

You were safe under the watchful eye of your daddy while the team worked on me.  Trying to stop things that were bleeding, trying not to damage anymore organs, calling out for the on call team to come and fix the mess created when you entered the world. 

But no matter how much blood I lost, or holes in organs that were created, I made it through to be with you. 

The first day I only had your photo. I wanted to reach out and touch you so much. You looked so snugly wrapped up. Daddy had the cuddles while I couldn’t. It broke my heart not being there for you. Only a floor away but it felt like miles.  

The first time I met you I cried. You were such a little thing. I was so weak there wasn’t much I could do for you except hold you. Someone else was feeding you. Changing you. Talking to you. It wasn’t fair. 

Over the next week and a bit I gained some strength and made sure I was there more.  A few ups and plenty of downs but nothing was keeping me from you. You got more and more of my milk. I pumped like a mother. You needed me so I pushed on. 

Leaving hospital when you were just 13 days old was extraordinary. It felt like a jail break. I just wanted to be home with my family. 

We had a few crazy weeks with me healing and many hospital visits. But we got there and finally everyone was well. 

I have loved you before I met you. You have been an amazing addition to my life. Your brothers love you. Your daddy loves you. You have your moments but I couldn’t imagine life without you. 

Happy first birthday Harland. Keep amazing us. 

2016: the year that sucks the big one

Yes, I’m quite aware it’s not over yet but I’m over it. I may as well wrap it up now as what else can be thrown our way in the next few months?

This year has proven to be one of my hardest. Health issues for me, my baby and my family. 

Apart from having a highly stressful pregnancy which ended in spectacular fashion, ongoing issues for months, my husband and both older boys battling their own flu while I was trying to keep baby inside of me, my mother in law getting admitted to hospital, her sister having a stroke and my husband having to hot foot it down to Victoria to see her before she passed away while I was in hospital (she survived and is still going strong at 96!) My baby and I are now battling a bad case of the flu. 

Sadly this one has put him in hospital. This has smashed him and hard. For 3 weeks his little body has been battling and winning but 2 nights ago it was time to get help. 

We came in at 3am and stupidly hoping they would check him over, he would smile and they would send us on our way, it was not to be. 

His oxygen levels were low. A normal person has 100% oxygen. He was flipping between 88-95% depending on if he was sitting up or laying down. They put the little prongs up his nose and he sat comfortably on 95%. 

One of his other issues was his cough. It had been hanging around for weeks. We were lucky to have results negative to whooping cough. Do not look it up on You Tube. You will need tissues. He did come back positive for Influenza Type A. 

The third issue is feeding. He either won’t feed or very small feeds before screaming and coughing then passing out from exhaustion. For the last 3 days his wet nappies are few and far between. 

They like 2 mils per kilo of body weight per hour. So he weighs 6.8 kg (let’s round up to 7) so he needs 14 mils output each hour. So over a 6 hour period he should have approx 84 mils worth of wee. He has had 11-40 mils over this time. I love numbers….

This has become a concern. Dehydration in babies is dangerous. Over night we were woken every 2 hours for feeding. Worse than having a newborn! He had tiny feeds then back to sleep. I’m lucky he’s suck a good night sleeper. But still no out put. 

So this morning they had to insert a feeding tube and he’s currently on Hydralite to hopefully get those fluids back up. I’m on the pump as milk has to go somewhere. 

The next step and I really hope we don’t have to get there, is a cannula for fluids. I have first hand experience with cannula’s and wouldn’t wish that on my baby. 

The hospital has been wonderful. The staff have been amazing. They don’t advocate co-sleeping due to fall risk and I completely understand however it’s the only way we were to get rest. So bless them, they got us a bed and set us up and told me ‘just don’t drop him, get some sleep’. 

So now we wait. They have just reduced his oxygen and with any luck he can come off that today. Then he just needs to prove he can wet that nappy! Can’t wait to get me happy baby back.  

I’m one of “those” mums

Don’t hate me but….

My baby sleeps. Sleeps really well. 

Sleeps in his bed, in the pram, in the carrier, snuggled up with me…he sleeps!

Not the car…hates the car. 

And I love it. Who wouldn’t?

When Marshal was born I was so hung up on getting him to sleep and everything had to be by the book, it was exhausting. 

Maverick was a horrid sleeper from day 1 and it took him 2.5 years to sleep through the night. More exhausting. He is still exhausting. 

This one is just super! A dream child. I honestly get 7-9 hours sleep a night. Never felt better. Co sleeping is brilliant!!! He fusses, shove a boob in his mouth, back to sleep. Awesome. 

Yes, he has had a few nights where we end up watching shit movies at 3am and very little sleep, but probably no more than 10 nights. In 15 weeks. Granted I spent 3 weeks in hospital and 2 of those he was in NICU, but I think that’s pretty good. 

Plus he sleeps through all the noise. No need to tell the others to shut up as Harland just sleeps peacefully. 

And not only is he great at sleeping, he’s just content. He can be on the floor for ages! Happily laying there watching his brother bicker and carry on for a good hour before letting me know he’s done and ready for bed. 

A lot probably comes down to me being calmer. I’m not as stressed for some reason. I don’t watch the clock. Sleep is sleep no matter where he is. As long as he’s getting it and I’m not fighting him. 

Maybe he realises all the bullshit I went through to get him here and this is his present to me? Wouldn’t that be nice. Maybe that’s another reason why I’ve managed to heal quickly (it’s felt like forever but 15 weeks is pretty quick for what happened…)

I wonder if this lasts for long. Maybe it’s a premmie thing and next week all hell will break loose….here’s hoping it doesn’t. 

Enough already!

I don’t normally get involved in talk about guns and stuff but after yet another shooting in the good Ol’ US of A I’m absolutely disgusted and saddened. 

Yet again the world has woken up to 50 more people dead for zero reason. Because some guy thought it would be a good idea to take a gun to a night club and let loose. 

I’m sick to my stomach thinking of families who have lost loved ones. Who are missing them at the dinner table. Who will never get over this because an innocent life was brutally taken away. The anger this invokes. 

When I lived in America, we friended a guy who was from the south. We bonded over our love for punk music. We went to see a band one night and it was great. On the way home I saw a handgun in his glove box. He believed everyone should carry and he wasn’t scared to say he wouldn’t pause to shoot a ‘black fella’ if the time came. Needless to say, that friendship ended there and then. He also believed in slavery…not my kind of person. 

It was the first time I’d come across the hate for someone of another colour and the love for a gun. I didn’t get it. We didn’t have that in Australia. I just didn’t want to be involved with people like that. 

Having my own kids I strongly believed in not letting them have any gun toys. And I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping it away from them. Until lately. 

When Marshal was younger he was given a toy gun for Christmas from my mother in law’s neighbour. It went straight in the bin. We didn’t watch violent movies or tv shows.

Now it’s all about guns and shooting people and killing people. I HATE it. I don’t blame anyone. It happened as they learn and watch. I think it’s all started since Marshal begun preschool. It’s all the boys do. Fight, make weapons and chase each other. 

The teachers are great at redirecting the energy into something else as their rules are ‘no guns’. But with the increasing boy population at school it’s hard to keep violence and weapons at bay.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve asked the boys not to yell ‘I’m going to shoot you’ or asked them to put down sticks with the reply ‘but it’s my gun’. It’s exhausting. They make them out of Lego. All the sets come with guns and swords. It’s rare to get it without some sort of weapon. Then they run around pew-pewing. Sigh. 

I’ve shot a gun. Once. On my friends farm. And it was fun I must admit. I shot at a box. Can’t remember if I hit it, probably not, but I did it. Would I do it again? No. I have no use for guns or have no urge to use one. 

We have some pretty strict gun laws in this country. Yes, there are a few gun related crimes, shootings on the news but nothing compared to America. But our gun laws help. They help protect us. Keep us safe. I don’t think Australians need to have guns and we know that. We have no need to carry a handgun in our purse or back pack just in case someone else is and I have to protect myself. That’s just a weird way to think too. 

Take away the guns, you take away the shooting deaths. Simple. Why can’t Americans see that? Its the second amendment. The right to bear arms.  Well it’s actually this: 

How many of these murderers are in a militia? Does anyone even give a shit about what it actually means? 

Amendments are exactly that….why not amend it to let everyone live in safety? Wouldn’t you rather have the right to live without being shot? The fear knowing the person next to you on the bus might be carrying a gun must be horrible. But then you are carrying a gun too so imagine their fear….and the cycle continues. 

I just don’t get it.  

My brother lives in America and I’m scared that one day he or his family will be involved in a shooting. My husband wants/ed to move to Texas but I don’t want to send my children to an American school. That’s when I’d chose to homeschool. Even if it does drive me crazy. I’d rather them home with me than in a school that has metal detectors and security guards. That’s not school, that’s prison. Here I am being paranoid. 

I’m guessing the gun debate rages on and on. It will never stop. There are too many people who think they need guns. There are too many people who don’t want guns in their community. The debate will go on until the end of time. 

So this weekends senseless killings won’t be the last. Far from it. And until someone has the balls to change the amendment and the laws, we will be hearing about mass murders often. I just hope with all my heart that someone you know isn’t involved in the next shooting. 

*noticed how I didn’t get all up in the whole ‘but he’s Muslim’ bullshit? I couldn’t give a rats arse what religion you are or the colour of your skin or who you choose to sleep with. If you chose to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger then you are an arsehat. Pure and simple. Don’t be that arsehat!

Back to sleep

Months ago I said to myself I didn’t want to co-sleep with this baby. I did it for over 2 years with Maverick and just didn’t want to do it again. 

But somehow I’ve ended up here again. 

And honestly, I don’t hate it. 

Having spent so long in hospital and away from Harland in those first few weeks, I feel this little guy needs a bit more loving and cuddles. He’s a great sleeper. Yes, he has his moments and there has been many nights that we’ve ended up on the couch watching shitty 2am movies, but he’s a gazillion times better sleeper than Maverick ever was. 

I tried to put him back to his bed in those first few weeks at home. I needed to rest and recover but soon figured out it was easier staying in bed than getting up hourly. Feeding him was easy and he (generally) went back to sleep after a feed. 

Plus it’s winter and freezing so staying in bed seemed like a better idea. 

So we are back to co-sleeping or bed sharing or sleeping as I like to call it. This is the first time I’m not sleep deprived. I’ve recovered quickly from the surgeries, and I think cuddling this little guy all night has helped with that. 

He seems happy with the deal. And I get to snuggle and smell and kiss him as much as I want. There can’t be anything bad about that. 

9 weeks…something adjusted

My littlest guy turns 9 weeks today. Feels like a lifetime, so much longer than 9 weeks. 

He is doing amazing. Growing, feeding great and sleeping. Having a baby that sleeps is a wonderful thing. Maverick was a horrible sleeper, 2.5 years of being a zombie. This one is awesome. Don’t want to rub it in…I hate those mothers.

But it’s given me a better chance to recover…or so we thought. 

After I had my non-infected stent removed at the beginning of the month, it all seemed like the health issues where done and dusted. My infection levels were coming down and liver function was heading back to normal. I slowly started having a few leaks. I thought it was a bad case of incontinence, it happens after baby comes. You do your pelvic floor, you deal with it. You cross your legs when you sneeze, and get on with life. 

Except it got worse. I was waking up covered in wee. Lovely right? I was soaking pads in under an hour. Changing clothes constantly. Lots of tears. Lots of washing. 

I saw my surgeon who agreed it wasn’t normal and sent me for a CT scan. The results showed a small hole in my bladder. Not good news. The urologist was pissed (pun intended) that this had happened after the last surgery and after all his test had shown no leakage. 

The decision was to have a catheter for awhile to see if it would heal itself. 

I’m on day 4 and already over it. A bag strapped to my leg all day, every day is just the shits. It makes it hard to move, to play with my kids and to sleep. And don’t get me started on bladder spasms. 

I have my next cystogram in 2 weeks which will hopefully show the hole has been fixed. If not, it will be back to the operating theatre. They said it wasn’t easy surgery either. Right now, anything is easier than what I’ve been through. 

When all this is over, I’m celebrating. Maybe a glass of bubbles. Maybe a whole bottle!

I’m just so pissed off

  Angry, mad and just over it. 

The last few days have gone from pretty shit to completely fucked. 

Thursday night I presented to emergency department with back and stomach pains. Given pain relief, had an X-ray and the doctor pretty much told me I was fine and sent me home after I’d sat there in pain for 7 hours. Gave me a script to fill the next day for relief. 

I never got it filled as my doctor said that it would go through the breastmilk and harm my baby. Apparently that’s not the case. 

So 11pm that night I woke to feed but I was in incredible pain. Took some normal panadol and went back to bed. 1.30 I woke in the worst pain. I’d had a disagreement with the husband that night so I didn’t want to wake him. Yes I know….it got to 2am and I did. 

I needed help. This was insane. We called the ambulance and they drugged me up and off we went. 

I had yet another cannula put in and bloods taken. Another urine test, which as it turns out wasn’t good. Even I could see that. Wee is supposed to be clear, not murky with floaties!

They decided I had a uti and we’re ready to discharge me when urology got on board. 

After many many hours I was sent for a CT scan when they entered a dye and checked all was working. It wasn’t. 

I was admitted. I couldn’t get into surgery that night but possibly Sunday. 

Sunday my amazing urology doctor took care of it. 

I was put under general again. He removed the stents. Once he took them out it all started flowing. The stents had become blocked causing wee to stay in my kidneys. This in turn has caused a massive kidney infection which has grown fungus type particles. Not what you want in your body. 

So once it was all released it started attacking the rest of me. My heart rate, blood pressure and pulse sky rocketed along with my temperature. They have all come back to normal now thankfully.

I’ve been on stupid strong antibiotics for 2.5 days. Strong pain killers. New pains have popped up. And now there’s talk of my liver not functioning properly. Oh and my wee is green! 

I’m so angry that this has happened. 

I’m so angry I can’t use my fucking hand due to cannula placement.  

I’m so angry that I’m not home sharing quality time with my family. 

Im so angry that all the safe medications I’m on are upsetting baby’s stomach. 

And I’m so very tired its crazy. 

Cystogram, I want one!


No you do not. 

It is not fun at all. 

Imagine having cold liquid pushed up your ureather and into your bladder. Then having it hurt and not being able to piss it out as you already have a catheter in that said liquid is being squirted in by. 

And the best thing? I have to have another one in May! Lucky for me I’ll be back under general for that one. How much fun does that sound?

But truly the best bit was when they said ‘we can’t see any leaks from your bladder or the ureter so let’s get that catheter out!’ 

Weeing had never felt so odd. Underwear has never felt so right (I haven’t worn any for 15 days) and I don’t have a bag of wee strapped to my leg! 

Today is ending on a good note. 

Day 13: welcome home!

Today we came home from hospital. Both of us. Leaving no one behind. 

And I couldn’t be happier. 

It has been a crazy 18 days and to think my little guy should still be on the inside for almost a month. 

There were tears upon leaving the NICU but not sad ones. It just felt weird after being in one place for so long, being told to enjoy my baby and head home. 

He has come a long way these last 13 days. From being born at 34 weeks 2 days to being allowed out at 36 weeks 1 day. He passed all his checks with flying colours and I am so thankful. 

He’s slept all afternoon, fed wonderfully and just been a delight. Ask me tomorrow how it’s going and I’m sure I’ll be answering differently. 

Me? I’m doing ok. I’ve come home with a catheter still in because of the damage done to my bladder. I get a cystogram done on Monday (where they put dye in my bladder and check for leaks) and a pelvic scan on Wednesday then a baby check Friday and a urology check for me that day too. So I’ll be spending more time at the hospital but it will be worth it to make sure I’m healthy. 

Our healthcare system really truly rocks. 

But overall I’m doing pretty good. I’m not sure how I’ll go mentally in the near future and I’m sure I’ll need some help along the way. Looking at my scar is heartbreaking. And I know it will fade over time, but scars are there forever and it will remind me of this shit time and what I went through to get my family.   

that’s a lot of staples that were in my stomach!

 Just glad I never have to go through this again.