Thalia's fertility journey

Time away from economic disaster

Why do you give your babies Cheerios? At least the ones available here have plenty of sugar and salt in them, and there are plenty of little snacks which don't (we offer Pob these and these, for example). Is it just a cultural thing - Cheerios as part of the fabric of American (Canadian) life?

It's not a moral high ground, I have a baby in the 90th centile for height and 99th for weight, so whatever we are doing, it's resulting in her being very well covered. Oh how I hate the comments we get: "I love her little thighs, they're so chunky!" or "you are a little Michelin baby, aren't you?" and "Well, you're not fading away, are you?"

I'm trying not to get worried about her weight. The doctor and health visitor both say it's absolutely fine given she is so tall, and that when she walks she will thin out. They say they don't get worried about children's weights until they are 4 or 5 when patterns get established. I don't know why she has shot up the centiles (remember she was in the 2nd centile a few weeks after birth), except that she really loves food. We don't give her a lot to eat but everything we do give her gets consumed, unlike the other babies we know who tend to reject half of what they are offered or throw it on the floor. Having been skinny til I was 7, and then suddenly overweight by 8 and up and down ever since (with lots of maternal eating issues) I am desperate to help her avoid a similar life, but worry that she just has my predisposition to child-bearing hips (hahah), chunky thighs and a love of food.

I wrote a very sensible comment on BrooklynGirl's similar post about her daughter. When it's someone else's child I'm able to have a rational perspective. But I looked around the first birthday party we went to on Saturday, and noticed that the three other girls there were all delicate and slender, and Pob was bigger than all but one of the boys, and it made me worry for her. I worry that in worrying I'm more likely to give her issues. I'm worried that I'm larger than I'd like to be right now and am not taking much if any action to fix it. I want her to have a lack of self-consiousness, unlike my shyness which ruined my late teens. And I don't know how to do that.

Happy Birthday girl

I don't have time to write the 'Pob at a year' post, and am feeling horribly guilty as I haven't done the 'Pob at 11, 10, 9 or even 8 months' I think. I will do the year post, just probably not til next weekend. But I did want to write about today so that I have a record for the future.

Today as you might imagine has been very hectic. I baked the cakes last night. Cakes plural as we figured out about 10 days ago that Pob has a mild allergic reaction to eggs, and I didn't want to risk making it worse by giving her a cake with egg in, just to be on the safe side. But I'd ordered this fancy number-1 shaped tin (don't do it - it took me nearly an hour to figure out how to line the tin!), and it was such a messy shape I didn't want to mess with the cake recipe to put in it, so I did a standard victoria sponge recipe for that, and then made an eggless chocolate cake that a friend had recommended.

Pob woke up chatting this morning, and we brought her down a little later than usual, having laid in bed listening to her for a while. She completely ignored her presents and crawled over to her current toys, pulling out a book to 'read'. Once I started opening her first present, however, she got quite engaged and pulled the wrapping apart. The present itself was quite a hit although I expect it will drive us potty over time. She jiggles along to the music every time it plays, which entertained everyone at her party this afternoon.

After her morning nap H took her to the park while I iced and decorated the cakes, tidied up, got plates etc out, decorated the table. We gave her all her favourites for lunch - spicy chicken, tomato, asparagus, melon and mango, and she happily went down for her afternoon nap while we ran around madly tidying further, organising balloons etc., having showers and generally beautifying things. Then people started to arrive.

We invited just family and godparents and their children, and some of them couldn't make it, but that added up to around 16 adults and eight children at its peak, which was plenty. I brought Pob down after her nap and a bottle, and she needed to sit on my lap for the first 15 minutes or so while lots of people came up wanting to play with her, but after a while she was fine to venture off for a few minutes, before needing to come back to H or I for reassurance and a cuddle. She had a lovely time and particularly enjoyed clapping her hands after everyone sang happy birthday - her face while everyone was singing was quite a picture, she kept looking around, presumably wondering what on earth was going on. But the clapping she understood. And the chocolate cake, she understood that too. Given it was her first taste of chocolate, her first food with added sucrose, and her first ever cake, she dispatched it pretty fast, and of course the icing got everywhere. But she didn't sign for more, she instead reached for the blueberries and tomatoes on the table, so hopefully we haven't ruined her preferences for ever.

It was a lovely party, and I think she had a lovely day. We had another enjoyable bedtime together, and she went happily to sleep. Tomorrow we leave at 730 for a week away - unfortunately I will be working about 14 hours a day but hope to sneak away from time to time to see her, and she and H will be having fun in the mountains together. It will be another adventure.

Happy Birthday darling, thank you for today.

This day a year ago

On this day a year ago I spent the day making the most of the last day before everything changed. I got my hair and nails done. I wandered through one of London's quirkier shopping streets, and bought a few bits and bobs. Slippers for the hospital. A couple of pretty hand towels for our downstairs loo, anticipating a lot of visitors. Some soap, similarly. Toothpaste. Nipple cream. You wonder how I remember the inanities? I've been carrying the receipts in my wallet all year. In the change compartment, where I see them every day.

On this day a year ago I spent the late afternoon and evening baking and tidying. I made honey cakes, which need to rest before eating anyway, and put them up on top of the fridge, wrapped in foil, ready for visitors. I packed the baby's hospital bag. I packed mine. I made H pack his. I can't remember what we had for dinner, but I'm sure we ate something. I remember being up late, doing I don't know what. My mother told me to sleep while I could. I felt I was unlikely to sleep whether I went to bed or not.

On this day a year ago, Pob and I had yet to meet. We knew each other from a series of knocks and pulls and pushes, kicks and punches, strokes and conversations. But we'd never seen each other.

Tonight, I spent longer than usual rocking Pob after her last story. After I'd sung our few songs, she sang back to me a little, before lapsing back into silence. She squirmed a few times, squawked a few times, but mostly lay still in my arms, looking up at me, but her eyes fluttering shut from time to time. Dark eyes in the darkness. I whispered to her how I was feeling, how much I love her, how I didn't know this time a year ago what that would feel like. How I will always love her, even though she may not love me at times. As I lapsed into silence her eyes closed for a few seconds longer, and I decided it was time to put her down. I carried her over to her crib, laid her down, handed her her bunny and left the room.

I stood outside briefly to see if she'd settle. It all sounded good so I headed downstairs, but halfway down found I needed to sit down on the stairs, to pause for a moment to remember this time a year ago, walking down the stairs with her bag packed, ready to go to the hospital. Very unsure about what was to happen. Not knowing my daughter, still nervous that at the last minute she'd be taken away before I got to meet her. Not knowing what she was going to be like, what I was going to be like.

At 1407 the following day, that all changed.

About that post

Thank you all for the thoughtful enquiries. We are all fine, it's just that I am snowed with work. I'm able to get home once or twice a week in time to put Pob to bed, but then have to spend the rest of the evening working so really blog posts are not top of my list right now. I'm also travelling quite a bit, and therefore not seeing her for 36 hours or so, which is really tough. I get quite antsy after 12 hours, let alone 36. I'm also really low on sleep because I'm working til midnight or so and not getting to sleep for at least another 30 minutes after that, and if I'm at home, I'm then woken at about 530 when Pob wakes up to chat to herself for 30 minutes or so. September is really bad with various commitments for work, but I'm hoping October will be better. But for that to happen I have to turn up my 'no' muscle, which is a little out of practice.

So the whole Sarah Palin thing? Really what can I add to the conversation that hasn't already been said. I'll try and be brief. She believes evolution is only a theory, she doesn't support a woman's right to make decisions about her body, or in teaching teenagers about contraception. She opposed, although then agreed to comply, with benefits for same-sex couples. She appeared not to know what the Bush doctrine is. And, not to put too fine a point on it, she (and/or the McCain campaign) lies. On the other hand, she is clearly quite smart at some level (although the whole evolution thing makes me doubt that a little bit), is extremely attractive, is very driven and hard working. So there are some strong points. How any American can think she's a good candidate, even given those points, is somewhat beyond me. Most of you have said as much, but we're really preaching to each other, others see the opposite, and are, well, quite fervent about it. And of course, I don't get to vote.

But on that point oh Hillary supporters, what did you think of Biden's comment this week? Made me smile just a bit. Having said that, of course I want the Obama/Biden campaign back on track as soon as possible. A McCain/Palin victory is just too scary to contemplate.

Pob is waking, I'll try to write another note tomorrow.

Ignore this post

Am total comment whore, very sad over concurrent drop in comments and technorati rating (I think they are linked). Think I'll write some controversial political post just to get you all going. Don't comment on this just to make me feel better, I'll write something more interesting over the weekend and hope to entice you all in that way.

The beginning of an era

Pob can say quite a few words now, although most are not very distinct. 'Mama' - directed at me specifically -came out clearly at the end of June during our trip to France. She then returned to saying it both in babbling and when it means me, but over the last few weeks has started to use it more exclusively, albeit in the form of a variety of 'ma/mum/mama/mmmm' sounds which seem to refer to me. Dada less clearly relates to H, some of the time it does, sometimes it doesn't.

Her most distinct word is 'up' which she's been saying since mid-June - her first word. Close behind is 'hello', although she only says this in response to us saying it to her, never spontaneously. She says a version of 'light' which is clear enough for another mother at our Friday music class to remark on it, but isn't really clear - it sounds more like 'alt'. She has said 'byebye' once or twice, but not regularly. She seems to say 'ball' but it's a bit random. 'Duck' has come out once or twice. Tonight I'm fairly sure she said her name when we were playing in the mirror after her bath, but she just did it once and wouldn't repeat it.

She understands many more words, including her name, mummy, daddy, no, gymbo, light, teddy, bunny, telephone, wave, byebye, hello, goodnight (all the last four make her wave), hooray (she raises her arms and says 'raay' (blame the Olympics)), eat (she makes the sign for eat), more (she makes the sign for more), ball, outside, doggie, dummy, book, bottle, sit down, stand up, bee, duck, baby, monkey, lion, swing, up, and kiss (she blows kisses but won't actually kiss us and even wriggles away if we try and kiss her most of the time).

Then yesterday morning she said 'no'. She is very attracted to the buttons on our television, which are just at the right height for her to prod when she's sitting, or play with when she's pulled herself up to stand near the television. We are keen for her not to do that, so when we spot her, we say "Pob! No! Sit down!". She always does, even if she immediately goes back to it afterwards. She recently started to shake her head when we said 'no'. She's been shaking it for a while when she means no - like when she doesn't want a mouthful of food - but only in the last week has she done it in response to the word. This morning we used our usual phrase when she went to touch the television. She sat down, shook her head, and said, quite clearly, 'no.'

The nanny told me that yesterday afternoon they went on a playdate with a little boy of about 18 months. He is in the stage of 'all toys are mine' so kept trying to take Pob's toys away. When he did it for the second time, she shook her head at him, and said 'no'.

Like I said, the beginning of an era.

Boobs, bras and pregnancy

I don't have time to write a proper post, snowed with work and trying to see Pob, it's all got rather too busy and frustrating in the last week or so. So here's something I've had in draft for a while. Will try to write more soon.

There are a lot of myths about breasts, bras and pregnancy. I suffered through a month of a stupidly ugly and ill-fitting bra while I was pregnant due to these myths, so here's my chance to blow some of them away.

It is one of those facts that everyone just knows on the boards, rather like the one about how eating fresh pineapple helps implantation, that you must not wear underwire bras while pregnant. This myth leaves the big-busted among is in a quandry. At what point in the pregnancy are you supposed to ditch proper support for your even more enormous than usual breasts, and go for a non-underwired bra. I hit this decision at about 12 weeks, when my boobs had grown at least a cup size and my existing 36DD bras were uncomfortable. I originally ordered some bras online from an upmarket maternity lingerie online shop, but they didn't make sizes big enough for my breasts and I had to return their lovely lacy confections.

I then visited that old stand-by of lingerie shopping in the UK, John Lewis. It's not where you go to get the pretty stuff, but they do have a reputation for at least fitting you properly. I was fitted by a woman who was wearing full body covering, although not a face veil, and who looked to be no more than 18. She insisted I was a 38D and sold me a rather ugly, completely flimsy, beige bra for a bargain £10. I took it because I thought that was my lot as a pregnant woman. But after a week of itchy lace and boobs resting on my emerging bump due to lack of support, I decided to bite the bullet and go to the Queen's bra fitters, Rigby and Peller.

At this luxuriously appointed salon, they first made me wait for about an hour, then a seven month pregnant fitter eyeballed me, told me I was clearly a 38F, that the whole underwire thing was nonsense, and sold me a couple of underwired bras. They lasted til 7.5 months, at which point they became too uncomfortable due to the bump pushing up under the breasts. I then went back and got fitted for nursing bras. It was a bit early, but they just sold me one that was a cup size bigger than I was at the time, and one a size bigger than that. After the birth I wore the 2 bras I had for about 4 weeks, then figured out I had gone down a back size but was again a cup size larger. Given my inability to leave the house at the time due to extreme breast feeding psychosis, I ordered a few online from Figleaves, who have a good selection of actually quite pretty nursing bras that made me feel a bit human again.

I subsequently heard from Betty, who has a good friend who is a boob doctor, about the underwire thing. His opinion was that the most important thing during pregnancy is to get proper support, which means continuing to wear underwire if you are big boobed until you simply can't any more as the bump pushes up towards your boobs. After your milk comes in you need non-underwired nursing bras, and at that point you should pretty much never not wear a bra again. I'm currently sleeping in the nursing bras that are too big but at least are non-underwired, and it feels quite uncomfortable to be bra-less, something I used to enjoy at night.

So far in the last year I have been about six different bra sizes - from a 36DD before I got pregnant through a 36E through a 38G while I was pregnant, to a 38H when I was breastfeeding, and now down to a 34E. It makes my underwear drawer a confusing place.