Bye bye 30’s

Posted on by Bluemama

Tomorrow is my 40th birthday.  I remember when I was young and I thought 40 was like really old! Now I’m nearly there I’m not sure whether I feel old or not.  I don’t think I have felt a particular age since I was about 27.  That was a good age.  Maybe because it was the last time I was me. Before I was a wife, before I became a mother. 
I’ve had lots of good years though. Some not so good, some wasted, some altogether unmemorable. But lots of good ones definitely.  My 39th year was going to be the best year! I was going to embrace turning 40 by running at it with all the gusto of the 27 year old me.  I decided that I was going to make my 39th year count and would make sure that I was fabulous at 40. I would take chances, travel, be spontaneous.  I would make a list of things to do before I turned 40 and tick them off one by one. Time with friends.  Making memories with family. Dates with my husband! It was going to be great. 

It started great.  It started with a weekend trip with my best friend.  A trip that began as an idea for a UK overnight stay and a bit of retail therapy and ended up being 4 days in Rome! It was amazing! We had the most wonderful time seeing some amazing sights, chilling, drinking prossecco, eating rustic Italian food and truly immersing ourselves in that beautiful inspiring place.  Ah Rome! I loved Rome! 

That’s where the travel bug began – how many more beautiful cities were there to explore? I made a list – places to see with friends, places to take the children, romantic cities to visit with my husband.  

We booked a family holiday to the Canary Islands in April with my little family and my parents, where the kids frolicked in the pool and we kicked back in the sunshine.  In May I took my daughter to her first music concert at The O2, and spent a lovely weekend together, just her and me, in London. First class travel and a great hotel. It was wonderful. Then a week later I took her to see One Direction in Manchester and had another amazing girly weekend together (she’s a good kid, she deserved to be spoiled just this once!).  The Summer saw me and my best friend off to Tunisia, this time with the kids, for a week of relaxing in the sun, and when we returned to the UK my husband and I surprised the kids with a trip to Disneyland Paris.  Halfway through the year, and oh my hadn’t it been a wonderful year so far. And although we still had half the year left and a whole host of things to experience, we had already booked the finale – 2 blissful weeks in The Maldives to celebrate my 40th birthday as a family. 

2 days after our return from Paris, we met with friends for a drink in the local wine bar. As we sat and talked I joked about how I’d had a dream that I had to cancel our Maldives trip because I was pregnant. Friends fought over who should take my place! Ha, it was funny.  And even though I’d missed my period, and I had felt unusually tired walking around Paris, I also knew that the only time my husband and I had made a ‘mistake’ I had quickly recitified it with a visit to my doctor for the morning after pill.  So that was not something to be concerned about was it.  

Next morning I was hit with an awful nausea – but I knew it wasn’t the prossecco.  I knew exactly what it was, but I told myself I was being paranoid. But I took a test anyway and my wonderful year ended as soon as that little blue line appeared.   I was 7 weeks pregnant! Christ! How had I missed that!  

If you’ve read any of my posts you will have a good idea about how I felt about it. My amazing year had been completely pissed all over because of one silly mistake.  I’d ruined everything.  Not just my plans, but I’d blown the promotion of a lifetime that I was on the brink of being offered. I fell into a deep despair and depression, and I guess I spent the best part of the next couple of months a walking basket case. I entered a darkness that I had not seen in a long time, and my old friend ‘Ant’ regained her previously held position of power. Nothing was in my control. And the more I realised how little control I had over my life, the more obsessed I became with death. I was going to die, the baby was going to die, my husband was going to die, and if none of that happened, one or both of my other children would die. Every TV programme that featured death was a sign. Every tragic Facebook post, a sign. Every solo magpie, a sign. I had sentenced myself to misery one way or another.

And here I am, on the eve of my 40th birthday! Today the refund from the canceled Maldives holiday was paid into my bank account, marking a definite end to this marvellous year. I don’t know if we will ever make it there again. But, in 6 weeks my baby girl is due to enter this world and become a part of my life.  A life that held such promise to be wonderful, measured by a wonderfully exciting year.  My 39th year – the best year of my life! And do you know, although there are times I mourn for the exciting adventures I was going to have, and times when I view the impending arrival with nonchalance and practicality, I have as many (if not more) moments when I wonder if maybe this baby is THE most wonderful  event of my 39th year? A year that promised to be the best year of my life may just still have been, but for a different, unexpected reason.  

And so I no longer see this as a mistake.  I think this might just be a miracle.

Writing 201: Poetry Day 7

Posted on by Bluemama

Day 7 gave us fingers/prose poem/assonance.   Not sure if I managed it or not…

Gentle fingers linger on my swollen belly, trying to work out where she’s lying.  Some days I feel like crying when I think about the change that is about to come.  On those days, the movement seems like an alien being, wriggling and writhing, bits protruding here and there.  But when I’m calm, it’s like a warm balm to my skin and my soul, and I feel whole.

When to Finish Work…

Posted on by Bluemama

So, being the martyr that I am, I decided that I would do what was best for my employer and stay at work as long as possible. I guess I feel like I owe them for giving me this promotion knowing that I was pregnant. Plus I am just forming a team, so who will show them the ropes if I move on? I’m the only one of me in my business so there is nobody else to teach them.

For any pregnant ladies who might be asking themselves the same question, here is my advice (for what it is worth). Leave when you feel physically and mentally ready to leave. Do not allow any other influences to decide when you should or shouldn’t work. Your body will tell you. I am 34 weeks pregnant and was ready to leave a couple of weeks ago! But I’ve made commitments and I am in a senior position so I need to honour them. If I had the time again I would have been more selfish.

Reasons why I wish I could leave already

1. I am tired. Too tired to get up, too tired to get dressed. Too tired to learn. Too tired to listen. Too tired to care.

2. I ache. All over. By lunchtime, my back aches from leaning over my laptop. My shoulders burn with pain. When I get up to walk somewhere my groin feels like it used to after I’d been horse-riding. I look about 90 hobbling around!

3. I have nothing to wear. Even my casual clothes are too tight now and I am loathe to buy new ones this late in the day.

4. I am super-stressed. Setting myself huge milestones to reach and promising the world to my employer has become a source of real physical stress since I realised I have only 4 weeks left at work to do it all in! I think I experienced my first panic attack in the early hours of Saturday morning, and I’ve felt short of breath ever since. I feel like a coiled spring.

5. I have lost my ability to learn! This role is new and I’ve no-one to learn from. Things are being thrown at me from all directions and I don’t understand them all. And I don’t seem to be able to find the energy to learn.

6. I cannot concentrate. Lack of sleep is affecting my ability to concentrate on anything or anyone. And when I can’t get my head round something that I need to do, I feel the panic rising like bile from the pit of my stomach.

7. I am incredibly emotional. Tears and tantrums. Mostly tears. But some people (particularly work colleagues) are beginning to seriously grind my gears!!

8. It’s too much. I have 2 children (10 and 5 years old). The 10 year old is a dream generally, but is going through a very sensitive stage! My 5 year old is incredibly bright and gorgeous, but has anger issues. Hit me so hard yesterday that it took half an hour for the red mark to fade. And today he punched a teacher. I have a meeting with school next week, but I don’t have the energy to go and I most certainly can’t afford to leave work early. And there’s still housework to do, and preparations for the arrival of baby. I actually cancelled my birthday weekend away (I’m 40 on Thursday) because I know I will have nothing left by Friday.

9. I hate the travelling. Sometimes my journey to work takes me about an hour there and invariably 90 minutes back. That is mentally and physically tiring in itself. But my main concern is the paranoia about going into labour when I’m not near my home! Having Group B Strep I’ve been told I should go to the hospital as soon as I know I’m in labour to get the IV antibiotics into my system as soon as possible. The further away I am from my home town, the longer that will take. Those are valuable minutes that I don’t want to lose.

10. No-one will think any better of me. Ok so I do think that my boss appreciates the fact that I am doing what I can to help them out before I leave. But he has no idea how much physical and emotional stress I am putting myself under in doing so. And so he’ll never truly appreciate how hard it has all been. And when I don’t deliver some of what I have promised, there will be no allowances made for my reputation!

So, whilst that might all have ended up sounding like the ravings of a bitter woman, I hope you take it as it is intended. Make sure you go when you are ready and listen to your body. Right now I am so exhausted that I have nothing to give my family. Work are getting the best of me. My family are left with the tears and tantrums; shouting at the kids, sobbing into my husband’s shoulder. The ironing piles up, and new dust settles on the old. My body is saying “slow down”, and I’m ignoring it. If you can listen to yours, please do!

ANTs and More Catastrophic Thinking

Posted on by Bluemama

So, good old ‘Ant’ is back, and not content with making me worry about the present (mainly because I’ve managed to knock her down on that score) she’s moved onto trying to wreck my future before it has even happened.

I know that I am getting on a bit to be having another child (40 on Thursday). Trust me, this wasn’t in the plan!! But it seems that all the medical professionals feel the need to remind me how ancient I am at every appointment. Most recently being told that it was unlikely I’d be allowed to go too far past the due date as the risk of stillbirth increases after the age of 40. Thanks for that consultant! It’s ok, no it’s fine, I didn’t have anything else to worry about!!! 😏

I hadn’t really worried too much about my age. I’m pretty young at heart, and I know 40 isn’t old at all (despite thinking that was ancient when I was younger lol). But all this negativity about my age has started me thinking about the future and I have Ant there to tell me that I might not even be around to see my youngest daughter get married. If she waits until she’s 30 like I did, I’ll be 70. Heck, I might not even be here! Or at best I could be walking her down the aisle with the aid of a Zimmer frame! If I’m too old, or not around to see her get married, it is likely I’ll never see her have children. If she has a child at my age, I’ll be 80 and won’t be able to help her like I should be able to.

I know it’s silly to think that way – who knows when any of our numbers will come up? While I’m busy worrying about what might happen in 20 years from now, the man upstairs might be plotting for me to get hit by a bus tomorrow!! No point wasting precious moments in today concerning myself with tomorrow. Easily said than done though isn’t it. Plus, Ant’s voice seems to have been getting a bit louder these days…

Weekend Pot Luck

Posted on by Bluemama

So, I haven’t got around to completing Day 5 with one thing and another, but I can at least share some of my love of poetry.

I usually have my head firmly in an old book, and have so many favourites, but metaphysical poetry has always been top of my list. John Donne can be a bit heavy going, but I have always loved Twicknam Garden and can still recite it despite not having read it for years.

I love the opening lines and how very woeful and dramatic they are in setting the scene for the rest of the poem:

Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with teares…

Whenever I’m feeling melancholy those lines pop into my head.

Writing 201: Poetry Day 4

Posted on by Bluemama

Today’s challenge: concrete poem, enjambement, animal.

If I had the time my plan was to write this using the image/shape of an ant. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my story or the content of my blog, ‘Ant’ is my unwanted BFF automatic negative thoughts. She’s an old friend that I don’t really want in my life, but who seems intent on sticking around.

Apologies for not meeting the ‘concrete’ brief, but if you knew the night I’d had I think you’d let me off, just this once.

ANT

Almost invisible to the human eye, but ever there. Ever busy. Annoying little ANT.
You think I can’t see you, but I’m not stupid. My thoughts of you are lucid as the words I speak.
You think me too weak to deal with your ever-present shadow.
What I do know is that you can’t beat me, even now. Not when I frown, not when I’m down.
Try as you might to spite me, I’m fighting. Busy, annoying, little ANT.

Writing 201: Poetry Day 3

Posted on by Bluemama

Today’s brief:-
Acrostic / internal rhyme / trust

First attempt, again just let the words come out with no editing. I’m still in bed (best get up for work!).

For context, you could read my post entitled ‘One Girl, One Day’

Here is today’s offering:

School Bully

Believe me when I tell you I can smell you even now,
Underneath the trees I went to, searching for acceptance.
Lying there in wait, filled with hate you pounced;
Laughing in my face with every punch, as leaves crunched under my feet.
You will never know how hard it is for me to trust since that day

Writing 201: Poetry Day 2

Posted on by Bluemama

So the brief today is journey/limerick/alliteration.

In the interests of not straying too far from the core subject of my blog, I’ve decided where possible to weave my personal journey into whatever poetry assignment is thrown my way! This pregnancy has indeed been a journey, so I’m attempting to capture the last 8 months in a series of limericks. Here’s a taster so far…

I thought I was done with my brood,
Then I noticed a change in my mood;
One day I felt sick
So I peed on a stick –
It was month one, oh hell I was screwed!!

Ok, so I didn’t quite manage any alliteration, and in isolation it isn’t a journey, but both will be covered when I’ve finished 😜

Update: I had a bash at completing the journey, so below is the ‘finished article’. I don’t like to play around too much with my poetry – I like to just get the words out of my head and leave it pure. As a result, I haven’t managed to meet the alliteration brief, which it might have done had I edited my work.

It is therefore a particularly immature piece of work, but I kind of like how the standard limerick form has allowed me to produce a trivialised version of my pregnancy journey, which has been far from jovial at times.

Bluemama’s Journey

I thought I was done with my brood
Then I noticed a change in my mood
One day I felt sick
So I peed on a stick
It was month one, oh hell I was screwed!!

By month two I was still in shock;
I thought I had switched off that clock!
But my body had plans,
So I went for some scans,
And confirmed there’s one more for the flock.

Month three I still felt no better.
I had wanted to be a jet-setter.
My big plans for travel
Had begun to unravel
As I looked forward to just getting fatter.

Month four it began to sink in;
Still not ‘happy’ but more settled within.
And though it still wasn’t great,
I accepted my fate
And accepted my baby therein.

Month five came and went without drama.
I stopped believing this was some kind of karma.
No point in complaining,
This baby is staying,
And I was feeling much calmer.

Month six it became more exciting!
I looked at the bright side, stopped fighting.
Though emotions ran high,
I would no longer cry
At the thought of a life without sleeping.

Month seven and my girl is moving,
Constantly wriggling and growing.
I can picture her face,
As she moves in my space –
She’s a thing I can see myself loving.

Month eight and I’m writing a rhyme
About the run up to month nine!
From terror and tears,
All the sadness and fears,
To now, waiting ’til she’s all mine.

Feedback is a gift, so please let me know what you think!

Writing 201: Poetry Day 1

Posted on by Bluemama

Your love, like rivers
Moving fast toward the sea,
Slips through my fingers.

The challenge today was to write a Haiku, subject ‘water’, to include a simile. We could have gone off piste with this, however I want to use the experience to see if I can write to order as prescribed. Above is my offering.

Got a bit of a haiku bug, so thought I’d add new ones as they pop into my head. Scan day tomorrow to learn my possible labour fate 😱

I am drowning here;
So scared about tomorrow.
Lost in waves of fear.

Catastrophic Thinking

Posted on by Bluemama

I’m scared. I’ve got so many thoughts running through my head about delivering my baby, none of which have a happy ending. I’m scared that if I don’t write them down, these thoughts will drive me mad over the next 7 weeks. I’m scared that if I do write them down I’ll be creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Want to know what I’m scared about? If you are in the later stages of pregnancy you’ve probably thought these things yourself, but I doubt you’d tell the world! I guess the only response we can expect to receive would be along the lines of “there’s nothing you can do about it so there’s no point worrying”, “don’t be silly, you’re going to be fine”, “you were fine with the first two”. Yeah, well none of that scares the worry away.

So what am I actually scared of?

I am scared there will be something wrong with my baby. That they’ve missed something important on previous scans, or that there is an underlying issue that won’t be picked up until after she is here.

I am scared about not being able to control when I go into labour. Scared that I won’t be ready, that I will be in the wrong place at the wrong time, scared that no-one will be there with me.

I am scared that I won’t be able to do it. What if she gets stuck in there like my first child? What if I just don’t have it in me to push her out?

I’m scared that if I am able to do it, something is going to go wrong and my baby won’t survive it.

I am scared that if I am able to do it, something is going to go wrong and I won’t survive it.

I am scared that it will all happen too quickly for them to get the IV antibiotics into my system and my baby will be taken from me before I can hold her (reference Group B Strep).

I am scared that I may have to have a planned Caesarian Section if my placenta is still low-lying. The idea of going under the knife petrifies me.

The possible C-Section brings with it a whole host of other fears…

I am scared that under local anaesthetic I will not be able to handle what is happening to me.

I am scared that under General anaesthetic I won’t wake up.

I am scared that if they take my baby away and I can’t hold her and feed her like I did after my 2 natural births that I won’t bond with her and I may trigger the return of an old enemy (reference post-natal depression).

I am consumed by an overwhelming fear that something will happen to my baby and I will never experience the fruits of the last 9 months. And I am scared that if something happens to me, I will never see my family again.

There, I’ve said it. Do I feel better? Nope. Tears are now pricking at the corners of my eyes as I realise just how many catastrophic thoughts have been running riot in my head. No wonder I am exhausted! I’m sure these are all natural worries, that a lot of expectant mothers have some or all of these concerns at one time or another. I’m not special or unique. And what percentage of those mothers go on to have straightforward deliveries, beautiful babies and survive the ordeal?!

But my old friend ‘Ant’ is back (reference Automatic Negative Thoughts) and she’s telling me the good times are up…