A Few of My Favourite Things

My daddy has taken a break from worrying (or at least boring you all about his worries) and now that I am over a month old, he has said I can take over his blog for the day.

So, I thought I'd share with you some of the things I am really enjoying about being on the outside, as well as some of the things I'm not enjoying so much.

1. Sleeping

I don't enjoy sleeping at night, obviously!  But, I do love sleeping on the big people during the day.  They are really warm and comfy, which means I can sleep easily on them.  I'm not enjoying sleeping in the bed mummy and daddy have bought for me.  It's too dark and quiet in the room and because of my funny breechy legs, I often kick off my blanket.  It doesn't matter though, because instead of sleeping in there, I cry a lot so that they will pick me up and then I can sleep on them.  And, if they do make me sleep in the cot, then I imitate the noises of a small woodland creature to keep them awake.  Suckers!

2. Feeding

I love milk.  I don't like it when mummy and daddy give me some milk and then keep taking it away when I'm not finished.  Ok, I might guzzle the lovely white stuff and, yes, it has made me a quite sick at times (daddy mentioned something about the Exorcist), but is that really a reason for them to keep taking it away whilst I'm clearly in the middle of drinking and then repeatedly tapping my back until I burp?  There's no dignity in being a baby sometimes!  If I can, then I try to burp in their faces for a bit of revenge.  When I'm hungry and wanting to be fed, daddy often puts me close to his face and lets me suck his nose.  He thinks it's funny and says I'm being really cute.  The truth is, and please don't tell him this because it might hurt his feelings, that I just think he looks a bit like a boob, so I have been trying to get milk out of him.

3. Bath Time

I wasn't sure about this at first.  I didn't know what was happening during my first bath time, so I let everyone know I didn't like it by screaming (I like screaming, especially when mummy and daddy look really tired).  But, I've grown to enjoy them.  I like waving my legs and arms around in the warm water.  I think I'm going to enjoy swimming.  However, the problem with baths is that I have to eventually get out.  I hate that part.  It is simply cruel to take me from somewhere so warm and comfy.  They've done that before (well, not them but some other big people in masks and funny hats).  It was just over a month ago and I wasn't very impressed then!  I get really cold between the bath and the changing mat, so I scream some more.  Then they treat me like I'm a Formula One car having a pit stop at Silverstone.  One of them takes the head end and one takes the other end.  I get dried in 10 seconds flat and have a nappy put on in a flash.  I'm not sure if they are timing themselves or whether they are trying to break some kind of record, but it isn't much fun.

4. Nappy Changes

Apart from having a bath, I'm not keen on being naked.  I really don't enjoy it when mummy and daddy decide that I need a new nappy.  But, we've already established that I am cunning and keen to extract revenge when the opportunity arises, so I wait until the new nappy is on and then I do a wee, or if I'm feeling especially annoyed about having my peace and quiet disturbed by having a nappy change, then I wait until I'm fully changed again and I do something a lot more sinister in there.  Okay, I know it means I need to have another nappy change, but, believe me, it's easier being cleaned than having to do the cleaning, so I'm the winner every time!  Another thing that I don't enjoy about nappy changes is that mummy and daddy sing to me.  Don't get me wrong, mummy's singing is pretty good (daddy, on the other hand, is tone deaf), but they sing such a silly little song.  They think they are being funny by adapting the MC Hammer classic to "Stop.  It's nappy time'.  I think they are being wallies.

5. Presents

I've been a very lucky girl and I've received lots and lots of lovely presents.  I have had so many clothes, cuddly toys, blankets and toys from lots of people I haven't even met yet.  I love wearing all of my new clothes.  I love it so much in fact that I have devised a new strategy to make sure I get through as many different clothes in a day as possible.  I store up my nappy bound substances until there is so much that I know the nappy I'm wearing can't contain them and then I release.  This way, I get an extra bath, which is fun, and some different clothes.  There is only one present that I have been sent that I didn't like.  Daddy has a Geordie friend who clearly has very poor taste in football teams, because he sent me a lovely t-shirt which has been ruined with the addition of the Newcastle United badge.  Daddy says I have to wear it when we see them in November, so I'm planning one of my nappy explosions as soon as they put it on me!

6. My Family

I have the best family.  They are all so generous, happy and cuddly.  They make such a fuss of me whenever I see any of them.  I love being around them and they love me.  My nana hadn't seen me for about a week recently and she phoned my daddy to say that she was worried I would be in school by the time she next saw me.  She is funny!  I have especially enjoyed meeting my big cousins.  I saw them properly for the first time last week.  I'd met them before but I was sleeping then so I didn't remember them.  This time, I woke up to see three big faces staring at me.  I was a little confused at first, but they were all smiling and I had lots of kisses from them.  I liked that a lot.  I can't wait until I am old enough to play with them properly.  I was not so impressed with my grampy.  I met him properly last week too and I now know who I need to blame for my double chin.

I hope daddy will let me write again soon.

Daisy. X

Daisy: Part 1

The more observant of you will have noticed that I haven't been blogging for a couple of weeks.  There's one reason for this.  She's called Daisy.

We'll take a step back to last Wednesday, which was our date for the Caesarean-section.  Actually, let's go back to Tuesday evening.  My wife and I, at this stage without a daughter, spent the evening and night excited but incredibly nervous.  People kept telling us 'Sleep now, whilst you can!'  Ironically, we didn't sleep much the few nights before the big day and almost not at all on Tuesday night.  We'd had our pre-op assessment on Monday, so we had been made fully aware of what would happen.  Of course, being informed about everything that will take place is a great thing, but it also makes you aware of the risks and possible complications, which only makes you more worried.

So, tired and growing increasingly nervous, we headed off with all of our bags on Wednesday morning to Gloucestershire Royal Hospital.  We were first up.  This meant that we had a firm time which was very unlikely to be changed at the last minute.  My wife's bump was scanned to check that our 'naughty' daughter hadn't decided to turn at the last minute.  She was still breech.  Therefore, we headed up to the delivery suite to get prepped for surgery.  I was allowed to change into some very fetching scrubs with a pair of 'Crocs' and a disposable hat.  I'm not wild about hats.  I don't like the fact that hats mess up my hair.  Why spend time in the morning sorting my hair out if I'm going to put something on top of it which flattens it?  But I swallowed my pride and put the hat on, which was the least I could do bearing in mind the morning my wife and daughter had in store.

In the operating theatre, my wife didn't fuss or complain when the anesthetist prodded at her spine with a needle.  I would have.  She was amazing.  I wouldn't have been.  I didn't really know how brave she was until the ECV she had a few weeks ago.  She showed even greater bravery that Wednesday morning and she made me exceptionally proud to be her husband.  After the anesthetic took affect, the very young looking registrar opened up my wife's bump at 9:26am.  4 minutes later, to the sound of our specially selected playlist, our daughter was born.  She screamed a little and was taken to be checked out in the corner of the room.  She soon settled down and was given the all clear.  She was healthy and she was gorgeous!  I then got to cut a small part of the umbilical cord off.  It was a very weird feeling and it took me more than a few snips!  Bundled up in to several blankets and with a knitted hat on her little head, my daughter was handed to me for the first time.  I'm not ashamed to say I welled up, in fact I'm welling up now thinking about it.  But I wanted to get her back to her mother, so I blinked away the tears and focused on making my way around the assault course of vital equipment back to my wife without dropping the most precious thing I have ever held, my 2.7kg or 6lb 1oz daughter.  She certainly wasn't the larger baby we had been expecting as a result of my wife's gestational diabetes.

The rest of the operation passed in a blur.  It was chance for my wife and I to gaze adoringly at our daughter.  It wasn't an easy time for my wife, she was uncomfortable and sick, but she only had time to focus on our little girl.  She astounded me that day and continues to do so.  Since Daisy was born, she has shown remarkable patience, calmness, perseverance, persistence and most of all overwhelming care and love for our daughter.  I owe her so much and I'm worried that I will never be able to thank her enough for the gift she has given me.  Soon enough the operation was complete and we were all moved to the recovery room to spend more time as a family.

Daisy's first day with us was perfect.  It involved more time than I can ever remember on my phone, sending texts and updating friends and family on Facebook.  The great thing about having a smaller baby is that this can be done whilst still holding on to her.  Whilst the recovery room on the delivery suite was air-conditioned, the top floor maternity ward was far from it.  It was sweltering.  It made my wife feel very sick for a while, which of course she didn't complain about.  She just concerned herself with making sure Daisy was still okay.  We had several excited visitors during the day.  Her Nain and Taid (Welsh for Grandmother and Grandfather) got the train over from south Wales to spend an hour with their first grandchild.  Her Nana and Nel came up later in the day to visit too.  Daisy was being spoiled rotten with hugs and kisses, present and cards.  In fact, even before she was born she had been given many amazing gifts from family, friends, colleagues and even children from my school.  We are incredibly grateful to everyone who has been so generous and kind with their thoughts and comments and cards and gifts.

The Little Lady's Not for Turning

It became very obvious to us today that our unborn daughter is firmly in charge.  She is displaying all of the traits of the women on my mother's side of the family.  Strong willed, stubborn and in-control.  Before I'm inundated with complaints from angry female relatives (by which I really mean just my mum!), I should point out that these women are also incredibly caring, loving and generous.

It has been a pretty fretful baby week so far.  Let's take a step back to yesterday afternoon.  You may or may not remember that our daughter was breech at her last scan.  Yesterday was the presentation scan to see if she had decided to turn herself.  My wife was sure she hadn't.  She was right.  As she always is!  Because she was still breech, we were then offered the chance to have an ECV, where the consultant tries to turn the baby externally.  Our other option was to book in for a Caesarean-section.  We felt we owed it to ourselves and our daughter to give the ECV a try.  We knew it would be painful and uncomfortable for my wife and would have only a 50% chance of working.  But my wife wanted to give birth naturally, knowing that it would be better for both of them if she could.  So, we agreed to the procedure and were booked in for this afternoon.

Full of worry and trepidation, we put the hospital bag in the car (as there is a very small chance that the ECV can distress baby so much that an emergency C-section could become necessary) and headed for the hospital.  Once in the delivery suite, my wife was attached to a machine, which listens to the baby's heartbeat, for half an hour.  Then came the tough part.  A softly spoken and gentle looking female consultant came in briefly to introduce herself and then she left again.  It was at this point that my wife commented that at least she looked gentle and wouldn't be able to be too brutal.  I retorted that it is always the quiet looking ones who are the toughest (I'm not sure why.  Thinking about it now, it wasn't the most supportive thing to say!)  I was right.  As I never am!  She came back in and wasn't gentle.  She was pretty brutal.  Of course, she had to be.  She wasn't just some kind of sadist.  The procedure requires a lot of pressure and force.


It was hard to watch my wife and daughter being so forcefully manhandled.  The consultant was impressed with my wife's pain threshold, as she said that most other women would have been screaming out in pain under the force and pressure she was having to exert to try and turn our stubborn little lady.  It became clear after a while that she wasn't budging.  She's very happy that way up thank you very much!  So, much to the relief of my wife and probably my daughter, the consultant decided to call it a day.  My wife was reattached to the monitor to see if the procedure had caused our little one any distress and almost immediately my daughter started to wriggle.  A victory dance perhaps?  She had her own way, that's for sure.  And, thankfully, her heartbeat was fine.  In fact, the midwife said it was better after the ECV than it was before.

We're now booked in for a C-section on 17th July.  We were so convinced she was coming sooner through induction that today feels a little anti-climatic.  But they are both well and that's the only thing that matters after the stresses of today.  I am unspeakably proud of the strength and courage my wife displayed today.  Everything she did was for our daughter's well being and health.  As for our daughter?  Well, I know that her great nanny Beryl will be looking down on her, proud of the stubbornness she is already displaying and also more than just a little pleased with her little victory over the healthcare profession today!