Forty three weeks today.
Forty three whole weeks since this little madam arrived.
Forty three whole weeks of love.
I think it’s time I faced facts this weekend, and admitted to myself that I now have a baby that’s officially ‘on the move.’
I’d wanted it for so long (I know, I know, rookie error) yet as it crept closer and closer, and I saw friends with babies of a similar age, running around after them all the time, I was relishing my time where I could dash away and put a wash on, or make the tea, while Liv played in the same spot.
So imagine my shock when I came back into the living room and she was at the changing mat, trying to chew on the dirty nappy she’d managed to get out of the nappy bag…..
Although not a million miles away from where she’d been put down, it was enough of a distance for me to question if I was seriously losing the plot. She’s not crawling yet, and although she can take steps, she’s not got to the stage where she can pull up on her walker and just go. So seriously, how……?! I swear, it was only 10am, so I hadn’t raided the gin cupboard until at least 2hours after this.
All was revealed, a couple of days later. While hanging up the (seventh) load of washing that day, the little madam leaned over from sitting position, into the crawling position, and backward shuffled/crawled to the place she needed to be.
How about that for creative determination?!
I’ve since watched her do this a couple of times and although I may look in wonder and pride, I’m sweating at the thought of NEVER being able to leave my baby unattended again.
So long hot coffees…. it was short but ever so sweet.
I discussed the progress we’d made with weaning last week and how we’d cut down to two bottles. One thing I haven’t really spoken about recently is her reflux – probably more So because, unfortunately, there hasn’t really been much of an update. She had been continuing on the twice daily doses of ranitidine and although we haven’t needed to increases the dose since she was around 6 months, every time we went to decrease it, her symptoms would flare up just as bad and she’d become as unsettled as ever.
This week however, we decided to attempt it again as it had been a while and her milk had reduced.
So far?….So good.
We’ve cut out her morning dose and just continuing with the 1ml before bedtime – no signs of any pain up to this point and is settling absolutely fine.
I remember sitting with the consultant, when the reflux issue was at its peak, and she was literally projectile vomiting every feed whilst standing stiff as a board in order to relieve some of her pain. I remember listening to her as she explained that Liv WILL outgrow it eventually. I remember so clearly, my heart sinking when she said it could take up to a year for her symptoms to completely go. Wondering how we were going to cope with this for another 8 or 9 months….
Yet here we are.
Yes, there have still been some seriously crappy days. Yes my washing machine still has to contend with 746378 washes a day and yes I STILL can’t wear my good clothes on a regular day. But on the most part, she’s carried on like a trooper, and we coped.
Now, we can only keep our fingers crossed the that its FINALLY coming to an end and there is light at the end of this vomit-filled tunnel.
Speaking about the newborn days, I’ve been asked about having a second baby a lot more than usual this week. Obviously, we all know that you only have to take one step out the hospital with your first before you’ve been thrown the ‘So, do you think you’ll have a second….?’ question.
But surprisingly, I haven’t actually heard it a lot since.
Until this week.
You only had to look at me, with my spew stained clothes, unwashed birds nest hair and eye bags reaching my chin, to know that the answer would be a strong ‘No’ during the first 6months. But I’ve recently found myself thinking about a second. Thinking about how amazing it would be for Liv to have a little brother or sister and thinking back to the lovely newborn squishy cuddles. It genuinely goes to show how powerful the mind is at blocking out the majority of the hard times and retaining the fluffy little marshmallow memories. But I love how the thought of having a second has gone from abject fear, to excitement. And I look forward to the day (if we’re fortunate enough) of adding to our little family.
Disclaimer: we are absolutely in NO WAY planning baby number 2 anytime soon, just before the hubby has a full on stroke when he reads this…