It doesn't rain it pours!

Oh boy.

I am going to sound like a broken record. Either that or I should sell front row seats as this pregnancy is turning out to be quite the soap opera.

Firstly, there was the distressing first 20 weeks down syndrome scare, and now, it seems the end is turning out to be equally as dramatic.

I have just got back from my hospital where I was picking up my diabetes results (it is high but they are not going to worry about it). I had a scan to check the position and the midwife was happy he was head down.

So off I trotted to see the doctor.

Well she had a feel of my tummy and pelvis and told me a very different story. Baby has swam back out of my pelvis and is now laying to my left. Grrrrrrrrrrr.

There was lots of talk around me of admitting me into hospital to wait for the baby to turn, Cord prolapse, inductions, sweeps...I feel like it all was just a blur in front of my eyes. I was listening to the doctor but I'm not sure I could register all she was telling me. My head felt heavy with fear, frustration and confusion.

I found myself back at the Maternity Day Unit with acupuncture needles in my legs and toes, appointments booked for scans every other day and strict instructions to have my finger poised on 999, should my waters break.

Since returning home, I have lit my moxas and put a mercy call into the homeopathist. I have also, in a very stern voice, told this little boy, to just do what his mummy says.

Fingers crossed it works.......

My week of spinning baby

Today I hit 38 weeks.

To say the last couple of weeks have been fraught is a gross understatement.

If you read my last post you'll know how much drama we had with Little Miss P, but that thankfully seems to be under control now she is happily back in her cot and getting some much needed 'good nights sleep'.

I have been on edge. The baby was laying in transverse and I posted about my distress at this news. I am utterly overwhelmed by all the comments I received offering advice and just general support...thank you everyone and I have hung onto your every word.

I have had a lifetime of operations as I have suffered from endometreosis and the thought of being cut open once more scares me silly. Yet all the positive c-section experiences you have shared with me made the idea seem less daunting.

However I still wanted to try every trick and tip to try and turn the baby. So everyday I piled up some books and placed moxa sticks on these over some tin foil so the were level with my little toes. For twenty minutes I kept my pinkies as close to the burning ends as I could bear. It is supposed to channel your uterus and put everything back in balance as nature intended. Boy did it burn and hum. I emerged from my living room like Emilio Estevez did after his smokin session in The Breakfast Club!

I also hunted down a homeopathist in my area who specialised in pregnancy and birth. It cost me a small fortune but knew I would regret not trying every avenue. My consultation with her lasted two whopping hours and we delved deep - from my childhood right through to today. I have always found it easier to open up to strangers so the session was like a massive stare at myself in the mirror. I unearthed lots of things about myself that I just hadn't acknowledged. My need to control both my pregnancies for a start and the anxiety I get not being able to. Anyway, after the floor was covered in all my skeletons and emotions, she prescribed me my remedy.

I popped the little pill. Almost instantly I felt calmer and after telling my homeopathist this the next day, she told me to pop another pill and to not do the moxas as the strong smell could comprimise the remedy.

Well, the reaction was freaky. All afternoon, evening and the following morning I was erratic, an emotional wreak. I even started to resent Little Miss P and didn't want to go near her....I hated myself. Thankfully Mr Scruff more than made up for me so Little Miss P was oblivious. I phoned the therapist and she said that she had given me an extra strong dose as time was of the essence and the effects would fade. I never expected such a strong reaction to something so harmless and natural.

I tried visualisation, walking like Charlie Chaplin thinking this would nudge it down (I did say I was erratic). I shined a torch down below, put frozen peas where his head wasn't meant to be and Mr Scruffs warm but reluctant hand where it should be. Heck I even placed Miss P's music box down there in the hope his ears would swim towards it.

Anyway, shaking like a leaf and expecting news that nothing had changed (my tummy still had two bulges on either side - head and bum?), I went for my scan.

The midwife went straight for my pelvis and there it was, the little head floating around perfectly down. I could have jumped up and cartwheeled.

There is still lots of concern about the amount of fluid and I have since been back for a diabetes test. What this means I don't know. Part of me just wants nature to take over and stop all these scares and tests and concerns. What will be will be. For all I know, he may have turned without me doing any of the above.

I am just waiting now, hoping the head stays put, hoping the fluid means nothing, hoping that mama nature has got me on her check list and hoping that this little dude who seems to have created a lot of drama makes a happy and healthy entry into the world!

From stair gate to 'bed gate', it's been a fraught week...

Cor, what a week. I would have posted sooner but every time I lifted my lap top lid, my head hit the keypad. Sleep in the Scruff household has become merely a word and not an action.

A couple of weeks ago I posted about how we have transferred Little Miss P into a big girl bed. "So far so great" I boasted. And then suddenly, it all went horribly wrong.

Little Miss P has become extremely insecure and clingy and there have been tears shed. This shrewd little monkey knows that there is change in the air and doesn't quite know what to do about it.

At the childminders, where she is normally the life and soul of the party, all she has wanted to do is sit in her pram, with her floppy hat on, clutching her fabric handbag close to her chest. If the childminder goes to leave the room, Miss P goes into panic. At home if one of us goes downstairs, she pulls at the stair gate to follow, even on one frightful occasion, flinging herself down the stairs.

It's at night time though when we have struggled most. Bedtime routine has continued as usual. She hops into bed and snuggles up ready for a story, but when it comes to lights out, the flood gates open and she is straight out of bed.

We even tried for a few nights staying in the room with her, and even though she stayed in her bed, she refused to go to sleep. She has tried every trick in the book to keep us in the room with her. She has passed us nappies saying 'poo poo', so we would change her, She has pulled down book after book for us to read to her, she has even showered us with kisses and love hoping her utter cuteness would make us stay (try resisting that one!)

After too many fraught hours we would eventually get her to nod off but by that point our nerves were in tatters. To top it off, she would wake through the night trotting into our room and we were up drinking tea and making breakfast along with the birds and sun.

With the baby due any second now, a blurry eyed decision was made. At 5 am on wednesday morning Mr Scruff and I were dismantling the bed and re-erecting the cot.

Yes she cried on wednesday night when we put her to bed but five minutes later she was asleep and we didn't hear her again until 7am. Last night too.

She is in better spirits, we are in better spirits.

There has been so many changes happening in the Scruff household. Suddenly I am at home again, instead of trotting off to work. There are baby things piling up around the house. Mummy is tired and has a beach ball stuck to her tummy. The bed, we suspect, was a step too far. Too much for one so little to cope with.

We will give it another go in a few months time when hopefully she is used to the new baby in the house. In the meantime we will try and make her feel as secure as possible and of course, all of us will enjoy some much needed sleep.

To quote her favourite book, "Peace at last"

Transverse baby..oh my.

Todays post has taken a detour. I was going to harp on about how Little Miss P is waking up at night and having a major tantrum lasting several hours. BUT this will have to wait. I need to update you on my pregnancy.

I am hoping that you may offer advice, or assurance!

Last week I had my birth center assessment. You see I am desperate to give birth in the birth center, preferably in the pool. I didn't have a great birth the first time, so have been hoping this time it would go more smoothly. Mmmm, it doesn't look like I am going to be that lucky. My assessment went well but the midwife was a bit concerned at how soft my tummy was. I scoffed at this as to me it feels like a solid boulder.

Yesturday I went for a scan to check out how much fluid the baby is swimming in. The sonographer told me the baby was laying across me - in transverse, and that there was a lot of fluid. She would have to report her findings to the midwifes.

After waiting for what felt like hours, the midwife came in to see me and said to have a coffee (?) and to wait for the consultant who will come and speak to me and admit me. Er, Helloooooooooo, does someone want to tell me whats going on.

After a long anxious wait, the consultant arrived and explained to me that because the baby is laying in transverse, it means unless it turns I will have to have a cesarean birth as it is impossible to deliver naturally when the baby is in this position. She also explained that because of the amount of fluid in me there is a danger if I go into labour. Because there is no head or bum acting as a plug, if my waters break, the amount of fluid could cause the cord to be flushed out. This is obviously extremely dangerous. But, I was assured, extremely rare.

The initial suggestion was that I stay in hospital until the baby turns. Not ideal, but at the same time I don't want to risk the health of my baby.

After a second opinion, the consultant decided to manually try and move the baby around.  After some serious moulding, prodding and manipulation she did manage to shift the head down a little. Whether it has stayed there, I'm not so sure. I can feel a lump on my side, suggesting a head. Sigh. She was happy to send me home but with strict instructions that if I get any labour twinges what so ever to come in immediately and if, heaven forbid, my waters break, to call an ambulance. EEEEEK.

The onsite acupuncturist has given me some Moxa sticks which apparently have an 80% success rate in turning a breech/ transverse baby. They look like giant cigars and smell like weed. I have to burn them close to a point in my little toes everyday and it will encourage the baby to turn as it puts my body back in balance. Heck, I'll try it. I'll try ANYTHING to get his little head down.

So until we go back for another scan after the weekend to see where he is laying, we are on tenderhooks, praying I don't go into labour and that he will eventually turn.

Any tips on turning a baby, will be greatly received!

Travelling light? I should coco.

 Today I will mostly be packing my hospital bag.

Now, I am determined to travel light. My reasoning? To prevent the wrath of Mr Scruff.

You see the first time I went into hospital to have Little Miss P I, well, he, was laden down. I didn't have a hospital bag, I had two. Plus three pillows - poufy ones. In fact I packed more for my labour than I did for a fortnight in Mexico.

I had it all. My wash bag was bulging. Lavender scented candles (for ambience), foot spray, face spray, mouth spray, hygiene spray. Cleanser, toner, moisturiser, make up, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, body lotion, oils for massage, oils to pep me up, oils for the pool, rescue remedy, arnica pills etc etc.

As for clothes...cashmere socks...YES, cashmere socks, a dressing gown IN WHITE, new pajamas (several pairs), flip flops, slippers etc etc

And the extras...gosh there were ice packs, heat pads, straws, energy bars, drinks, ipod, Dettol spray (?) etc etc.

The list went on.

I remember very clearly being moved from the induction ward to the labour ward. Mr Scruff was dragging five paces behind me cursing under his breath. I couldn't see his face for pillows as he lugged one bag along the floor and hoisted the other across his back.

So did I use anything from my list of delights?

No.

Whenever Mr Scruff went to get something from the bag(s) he spent so long rummaging, unpacking, unzipping to find it, that I was soon over it. I ended up wearing Mr Scruffs T shirt, as my pjs were two hot. And as for the cashmere socks...well lets just say they are lurking in a corner of a labour room where some over-heated crazed animal flung them off and threw them.

What did you really need in your hospital bag...all tips to help me pack greatly welcome!

Good days .... and bad.

I was going to post about how proud I am of Little Miss P. How proud I am of me.

You see Mr Scruff and I went on a final little weekend away before I pop out baby number 2 (if only it was that easy). Little Miss P stayed with my mum. Well my mum couldn't have had an easier time of it. Little Miss P was a dream guest. She ate all her dinner, played beautifully with her books and toys, tucked down to bed with a wave goodnight and there was not a squeak until the next morning. In fact my mum had to go into her to say good morning. A tear was not shed, not a whinge, not a moan, only laughter and love.

Well I felt like the best mum in the world and I gave myself a jolly good pat on the back. What a good girl I have!

That was until we bought her home. I will spare you the gory details, but today we are a household who has only had 3 hours sleep, I feel like I have a burst eardrum from the intense screaming it was put under, Mr Scruff slept on the sofa, Little Miss P in her pram and me with my shoulders up by my ears.

Sigh. Guess I better hand my gold medal back!

36 weeks...

yes you can stop laughing now and pick your jaw back up.

On sunday I am 36 weeks pregnant. Scream very loudly.

I can honestly say I get the medal for having the fastest pregnancy ever. It has flown by. I think it's because it coincided with my return back to work, so life in general picked up a pace.

That doesn't mean it's been an easy ride....


well being: teetering on the edge. I am blaming the heat. I feel like Omar Sharif. My head is tilted to one side, legs dragging a few paces behind, mouth slightly open as if gasping for air. In fact I swear I keep seeing mirages in the distance. All I need is a camel to walk past.

Work: FINISHED! I am now officially on maternity leave. The last month has been a real struggle. Traveling on the tube has been hell. I don't make life easy for myself though as I always seem to be carrying big heavy bags - it is sale season after all and I do work across the road from Selfridges.

size: enormous. One friend even said to me this week that if I was acting in a play, the audience would scoff at how fake my bump looked. I can assure each and every one of you, it is very very real.

pain: easing. I have been seeing a physio who has given me a very attractive super long tuby-grip which I have to wear to help lift and support the bump. I certainly feel well lifted, but also sweaty as hell.

Stretch marks: Yes, still there. Still pissing me off.

sleep. whats that?

labour preparation: I have started to crawl around on all fours and am listening to my hypno birth tapes in bed. My mind does tend to wander though. The voice on these tapes is so dreary I find myself making shopping lists (by the way, it's actually my voice on the tapes...wierd I know, but I didn't 'get on' with the CD voice I bought - The Gentle Birth Method, bit too fast for me - so went ahead and recorded the words myself). The squirmish look away now...yes I have started that massage. You know the one.

The name: Question mark. Mr Scruff has announced he is having a wobble, but has yet to come up with an alternative. This puts us into dangerous seas as we have no back up whats so ever.

Prepared: are we heck. We are still living in 'his' room, which is too small for our bed and the moses basket, having decided to knock the fireplace out of our room. We are still living in a building site and Mr Scruff has A LOT of painting to do before we can set up the rooms. I am seriously panicking inside. HAPPY FACE

baby stuff: I have a list as long as my arm of stuff to buy for the hospital bag and for those first few weeks. I have promised myself monday morning I am going on a John Lewis trolly dash. I have been given lots of lovely things for when the boy is bigger - a huge thank you to the ever so stylish and incredibly lovely teawithonesugarplease, for donating the clothes. MWAH!

We have also gone ahead an bought a Phil and Teds Sport. We said we wouldn't, but someone very sensibly pointed out that Little Miss P at only 18 months is far too small to go on the buggy board. If she jumped off, she has absolutely no road awareness. We lost out on a few on ebay and gumtree so bit the bullet and bought one on offer in Mothercare. We are on the look out for a cocoon things, so eyes are peeled on EBAY.

feeling: Extremely nervous. Panicked that the house isn't ready. Worried I will drop early. Fearful I will be late and have another induction. Anxious that I will forget what to do...re reading the books - do they really sleep that long? Praying I get to go to the birth center this time, excited to meet him, but worried we don't know what to call him, tired, hot, bothered.....

Sigh.

Tis out of my hands...let the countdown begin.

hello toes!

Growing up!

Little Miss P is eighteen months old.

I consider this something of a mile stone.

Not only does it mean she is in the next size clothes but in all the books I have read (many, many books) she is now classed as a toddler.

getting bigger!

Pass me a Kleenex. Heck pass me the whole box.

When my mum says to me 'you will always be my baby'.  I'm not embarrassed by this any more. I utterly one hundred percent understand.

Here is just a wee taste of all the wonderful (and not so wonderful things) Little Miss P has been up too recently.

book worm
Her love of books grows stronger all the time. At night, we cannot get away with reading her just one story, it's at least three. In the morning the first thing she says is 'book' pointing to her shelf. If I need to occupy her, I hand her a book. In the day time, she will sit and flick through page after page. When we read to her she hangs onto our every word, pointing at every detail in the illlustrations, repeating the words she can say.

beer monster
Her other 'hobby' is beer bottles. Yep, beer bottles. Now Mr Scruff is rather partial to a Peroni or three in the evenings so our recycling box is generously filled with shiny green bottles. As soon as I open the back door, Little Miss P is out in a flash trotting round the side of the house. Sometimes she will bring me round one bottle, other times, she will gleefully fill her little wheelbarrow up with three or four and carefully wheel them around, stopping every so often to line up the bottles before putting them back in her barrow.

 making the most of the summer

pick your own
Boy does she like her food. She still has a billion allergies but we have adapted to them really well. She can gnaw the meat off a chicken bone in seconds. And as for a box of blueberries. Blink and you'll miss her polishing off a box. She has also discovered there are wild strawberries growing in our garden and I have often found her looking very guilty indeed with little red stains around her lips.

 Hunting out the ripe ones!

jibba jabba
Little Miss P's favourite word is shoes (it's not even worth me saying 'book' - that's a given). Swiftly followed by nose, bike, bye and beep. Strawberry, 'oh no', bot bot, poo, brick and baby also appear regularly in her conversation. As for sounds, well BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ, is without question sound of the month, with mmmmmmmmmm (whilst eating blueberries) coming in second.

Altogether now "shoooooooes"

Once bitten
I have written in detail about our experience of Little Miss P's first soirees into tantrum territory. Well she is full swing now, performing when she doesn't get her way. Mr Scruff and I are working on how we deal with them...distraction seems to be key. However she is getting into one habit that I will not tolerate - biting me. Today, for example, she was hanging out of her pram having wiggled out of the straps. Of course I tried to sit her back in. Well this induced a torrid display of anger where she went for my hand and tried to take a chunk from it. I was quick to tell her off. She grizzled and then fell asleep. Monkey. Advice on this one most welcome.


Night night
She's in a big girl bed as my previous post details, but as a quick update, last night she went to sleep at 7pm and came trotting into the hall way at 7am this morning.....altogether now "blow your vuvuzela"

Dancing queen
I have joined a new music class where the kids are allowed to run around and dance. And boy does she. She trots around, shakes her hips, arms in the air, twirly twirly, clappy clappy.

Agadoo, doo, doo

full of love
Yes she has her madam moments, but she is so full of love, she smiles at everyone, waves and knows how to have fun. When she kisses her cuddly toys, she puts so much welly behind her love her whole body shakes and she makes a loud mwah kissing noise. And she does the same with us. Her little arms hooks around my neck as she plants a huge smacker on my cheek. And boy does she giggle. She loves a good ole rough and tumble play, and no matter how neatly I dress her, she'll end up with cave man hair as she climbs and jumps on everything in her path.

Little Miss P, you will always be my baby. MMMMMMMWAH xx

The story of the big girl bed

We have survived night three!

At the weekend we set up Little Miss P's big girl bed.

It looks huge in her room and she looks like a tiny little lady bird, lost somewhere in the duvet! Yes, I did shed a tear at the thought of her growing up.

There is a baby somewhere under there...

Once the bed was up her reaction was magical. She leaped on it squealing with delight. High five.

The first night she settled down well and fell straight to sleep after about ten stories (as is customary for my future book worm). After about an hour we had a little peep in and the little monkey was laying across the bed, where the pillow should be!

However you are comfortable!

Fast forward another hour and we hear a bump. Yes the inevitable has happened...she fell out. Luckily we had gathered every cushion, pillow, spare duvet, large cuddly toy we could find to surround the bed so she had a soft landing.

3am, I can hear the rocking chair going...yep, there she is sat in her chair having a read of her books (yes, in the dark).

In the morning we walk into the sight of her little bum in the air as if she had fallen asleep climbing back into bed....

The second night, I read her stories in bed and yet again she settled well into the land of nod.

Not a peep until about 5am when I hear the rocking chair going again. Mr Scruff rushes in but she is happy as Larry having a chat with her teds. Problem is she is not going back to sleep when she can get up and explore...welllll, lets just say it was an early start for us.

And last night. Midnight I found her sat in the middle of her room on the floor with the duvet having a good ole cry. BUT, once back in bed and after a little cuddle from mum we didn't hear a peep until 7am this morning.

So far, I say, she's doing pretty well....next week potty training!!!

Morning campers!

An apology

Dear readers (if you are still there, and haven't given up on me and buggered off), I have neglected you.

Its not that I have lacked the time to post and fill you in on all the Scruff family gossip but I have lost all my energy. It's been zapped. You see the hot weather coupled with the fact that I feel like I am carrying a sack of potatoes strapped to my middle, I am one flaked out cake.

SOMEONE TURN THE AIRCON ON

Traveling to work on the tube nearly 8 months pregnant and then running after a toddler who is intent on playing tantrums, my legs are like noodles, my arms so slumped my fingers drag on the floor gorilla style. Despite a head full of posts I am desperate to share with you, my tippy tappy fingers have given up.

BUT, stop the violins playing and get onto the drums...today, TODAY, was my last day at work. I am officially on maternity leave. I plan to post all the time...you'll be rolling your eyes and telling me to shut up...I promise!