j + f = b

So this blog entry is a long time coming. There’s a reason for that and it’s shaped like a mini human. 

Not sure where in the last seven weeks to start really, I have to be careful not to just dribble on about baby baby baby until you click BACK. I shall start from the beginning.

Childbirth. These are my observations:
- Gas and Air does nothing. Don’t believe the lies.
- You can go through 40 hours of labour, failed epidurals, SPD inflammation, fully dilating, pushing for two hours and finally an emergency c section, and people will still assume that your caesarean was a cop out. For the record, without the operation we’d both be dead.
- Despite the above situation, I wasn’t scared once. Not when it was all going wrong and the doctors were panicking and John was on his knees in the scrubs cupboard. I felt pissed off and tired but at no point was I scared, and looking back I’m pretty sure this was because of all the prayers people were praying. So thank you, and thank you to Jesus who we know was in charge of it all. Her being born at all was a miracle. She’s our tiny stroppy gurgly miracle. Our miracle that does poo.
- Midwives and surgeons are beautiful humans. Anaesthetists are beautiful verging on supreme being status.

So now we are three, and it’s astounding. She’s seven weeks old and undeniably the most attractive, advanced and alert baby that has ever been born. And yes, that is me speaking objectively. We’re big softies and pretty bad at making her do anything she doesn’t want to do, and as such are wrapped around her tiny little finger but we console ourselves with all the compliments we get about what a happy baby we have. She should be happy, she’s got two full time minions. 

So in other news, John’s had his op to get his plates taken out and is awaiting MRI scans and more operations. It’s horrible having a sad broken hubby and it’s horrible for him to be sad and broken, and it’s not going to get better any time soon really. Poor John. And we’re waiting for the NHS to get on with it so we might be waiting for a while. But on the plus side with him signed off work I have a companion to play with whose vocabulary extends beyond ‘waaaaaaa’ and ‘cooooo’. On a good day.

So life is pretty much baby dominated, with a back drop of ‘when we move to Ukraine’. The current plan is to get a van and drive there, because apparently with a baby we stand a good chance of being allowed across borders without getting all our stuff nicked. Watch this space. 

love. xxx