Twenty five weeks today.
Twenty five whole weeks since this little madam arrived.
Twenty five whole weeks of love.
Happy Easter folks! Hope you’ve all had a fab long weekend and eaten their body weight in chocolate….. just like any other day for me really 😂😂
This week, I’m gonna do a bit of trumpet blowing for my daughter. As some of you will have seen from my Instagram post this week, Liv had her hospital appointment at the special infant clinic. Due to her prematurity, she was to be followed up anyway but before that, issues regarding her poor weight gain, projectile vomiting and pain whilst feeding cropped up so we were referred earlier and had to endure a good few more appointments than what we previously expected. It was a hugely worrying time and it felt like every hospital appointment, more bad news or anxieties would be loaded on to our plates.
So it was AMAZING to see Liv absolutely smashing her targets this time around! Not only had she put on weight, she has actually went up a whole centile!! Right up to the line of the 25th no less. Considering she was hovering around the bottom of the 0.4 line for weeks after birth, it feels like a huge achievement.
Not only that, but the consultant was also so pleased with her development that she’s discharged her from further follow up. I didn’t think it would ever actually come to this point believe it or not.
Being told at 34 weeks that your waters have broken, I don’t think you can fully process or quite believe that your baby is on it’s way. There were so many thoughts whizzing around my head, which only worsened when the neonatal consultant came to review me. Words like intensive care, organ development and developmental delay were being chucked about and although she explained everything so well, it felt like it just went in one ear and out the other. You see, having a premature baby doesn’t just mean that the birth experience is stressful. It means so much more than that. It means that you worry if they’re strong enough, or big enough to cope with the outside world. It means you worry about how much medical input they’ll need when they’re here. It means that you worry about if they’re going to struggle with developmental milestones when they come. Things that most parents can take for granted that their baby will do and learn, we don’t. ‘Just incase.’
As far as prematurity goes, we were lucky. A 35 weeker has an extremely good prognosis and from what we’ve seen, Liv is determined. She doesn’t want to wait. She wants to learn and do things yesterday. A trait I hope she keeps a hold of tight. We hadn’t been too concerned, in fact, I’d dared myself a little hope that she would manage as well and as quick as other babies her age. So it almost felt like ‘confirmation’ to hear the consultant say she wasn’t concerned and that her development seemed on track. So now, all that’s left to do is sit back and watch her learn.
And baby-proof my ENTIRE house.
Should’ve maybe thought of babies before thinking a three storey renovation project was the house for us…..
Speaking of blowing trumpets, I’m pretty pleased with myself this week. Although I was quite fond of my ‘murves,’ (and by fond, I mean grossly detested) i realised that the only way I was going to feel a bit better about myself was to start exercising again. Of course, it would help if I gave up the three chocolate bars I was eating daily, but baby steps an all that…
Anyway, I’d been going to my mum & fitness baby class once a week and over the course of the past few weeks, doing some home workouts when I could. A spare 20mins in the day (HAH!) or when the hubby got home and took over for a bit, I’d do a workout. I was starting to feel a lot fitter and although not noticing any major changes in my body or weight, I was happy that I no longer felt like dying a slow and painful death was the easier option to a workout. So when my fit mum friend Megs (she’s serious goals by the way gals!) suggested joining her in a burpee challenge for charity, I thought to myself, ‘how hard can this be?’
Pretty fucking hard so it turns out.
150 burpees A DAY. For SEVEN. DAYS. STRAIGHT.
After day one, I felt like dying.
So it’s nothing short of miraculous that I’ve made it here to day 7. I am pretty sure there is no longer a muscle in my body that isn’t screaming in pain and it’s got to the point that the mere word ‘burpee’ brings me out in a cold sweat.
But I did it.
And to boot, for the first time since about 6months pregnant, I jumped on the scales and didn’t want to smash my foot through the number at the top! I took a photo at the end of the week there and compared it to my first photo in January and all the differences I hadn’t noticed day to day? I noticed them all in that photo! I’m super excited to see how far I’ve come on and even more excited to see where I end up.
I’m realistic in the sense my post partum body is never gonna be the same as before. My hips are that bit wider, my thighs slightly dimpled and my tummy that bit wobblier but I’m always gonna be alright with that because its the result of the biggest achievement of my life. ❤
Hope you all have a brilliant week folks.
This week, my baby turns 6months. No longer classed as a newborn?!