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. 


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. 

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.