Eight weeks today.
Eight whole weeks since this little madam arrived.
Eight whole weeks of love.


Eight week jabs.
Nothing else need be said. These words are enough to fill every parent with dread. Especially those ‘first-time parents.’
I’d heard the horror stories. Read the forums. Witnessed the facial expressions of those who went before us.
I’d decided to take the husband along for moral support. And by moral support, I meant take the baby, hold the baby and console the baby afterwards as I break down in the corner.
Probably unsurprisingly, my baby turned out to be tougher than her mother. As I welled up when the three jabs went into her chubby little thigh, i watched Olivia give a pathetic little sob, expecting a high pitch scream any second. The little sob gave way….for a smile.
I don’t know if she’s just super tough after all the needles she got when she was a tiny toot, or whether she’s just a bit of a maniac.
We’ll reserve judgement for now.
I was on high alert that whole day, analysing her skin for rashes, checking her nappies on the hour and shoving the ear probe for her temp every 7minutes. This might be a slight exaggeration. But probably only slight.
Thankfully, she was a little trooper and suffered no ill effects.
I can’t believe my luck and we’ll have to wait and see how the next lot go! But we made it past the 8 week jabs unscathed….Phew.

This week, we’ve also made the switch to mixed feeding. I breastfeed throughout the day and night still but she gets a bottle last thing at night and we give one bottle of formula in the afternoon. I still have a love/hate relationship with feeding and had been struggling with pain again. Olivia seems to be going through yet another growth spurt, which is brilliant as I love watching her grow chubby,(like her mummy) but not so great when your tender nipples make it feel like a baby shark is feeding from you frantically.
Fortunately, believe it or not, this one extra bottle has made all the difference and I feel that my pain has definitely lessened.

An unfortunate side effect from the bottle (although it does happen after a breastfeed, just less common) is the vomiting. And by vomiting, I don’t mean a cute little trickle from her mouth after a burp. This vomiting put that scene from The Exorcist to shame. In fact, I even screamed louder at this than I did at the film as I watched my beautiful, new (far too expensive) fabric sofa being drenched over, and over, and over again.
I spoke to the Health visitor about this as she’s also becoming a bit of a nightmare to wind, going stiff as a board and screaming. Probably due to the projectile vomiting; which can’t be pleasant… I’ve to keep an eye on her for now and she’ll review her again in a week.

The best thing about this week though was the first proper smile happened! I think my darling husband was getting sick of being shouted through to see a ‘smile’ only for her to spew as soon as he got through. Damn wind.
So I couldn’t quite believe she had smiled with no wind or vomit that followed. It was glorious. Absolutely beautiful.
In fact, I’d live through 56 more nights of sleeplessness and vomit if I could just have that smi…..
I couldn’t even finish that sentence, it was so ridiculous.
I love her smile, But i also love sleep.

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