The 8 Month Check

Yesterday Graeme and I took Francis to the Health Visitor for his 8 month check up. He may be nine months old now, but his corrected age is only seven months and I was a bit worried that perhaps the HV would expect too much of him.

However, the HV was very pleased with Francis's progress and could barely believe that he was a premature baby. He has reached most of the 8 month milestones and I don't think it will be long before we can tick them all off the list. His weight is now 16lb 13oz and is in perfect proportion to his length, so at least I know I'm not overfeeding him!

It seems my worries were for nothing. Francis is doing everything he should be and the HV said that Francis is better developmentally than many of the full-term babies she sees!


Lisa xxx

Jumperoond!

After seeing a video of a friend's baby having a whale of a time in a Rainforest Jumperoo, I really wanted to get one for Francis. I was horrified at the £80 pricetag, so decided to have a look on eBay to see if I could get a secondhand one for a reasonable price. After seeing that the Rainforest Jumperoos still go for up to £50 secondhand in the auctions, I gave up on the idea. Then I saw that the slightly older model Jumperoos were much cheaper and I snapped one up for £25.

After some initial communication problems with the seller, due to both of us losing our internet connections last weekend, I was finally able to collect the Jumperoo this morning. Francis was a bit apprehensive at first, but soon got the hang of bouncing about in his new toy as you can see in this video. Now I'm just faced with the problem of where I'm going to keep it... It's much bigger than it looked in the eBay photo!

Lisa xxx

Words of Wisdom (Teeth)

A couple of months ago I managed to crack a tooth (eating a slice of bread, of all things...) and needed emergency dental treatment. The broken pieces of tooth were removed and I had a temporary filling put in place. The dentist then warned me that the tooth really did need sorting out within the next couple of months.

Thanks to our friend Julie, who works at Liverpool Dental School, I was able to get an appointment with a 5th year student to finally have my tooth looked at. Before addressing the issue of the dodgy tooth, the student did a full check of my teeth and gums and it seems that some of my teeth are in a pretty sorry state. I was appalled to discover that several of them have decay. The student also expressed concern about my wisdom teeth which have grown in perpendicular to my other teeth meaning they are nigh on impossible to keep clean so are also starting to decay; this could have dire consequences for the adjacent teeth. Because of the weird angle of my wisdom teeth, fillings are out of the question so the teeth may need to be removed. After having x-rays to check the extent of the decay and to get a closer look at the wisdom teeth, it was decided that I need further appointments to have fillings in the decaying teeth and that I should be referred to the Oral Surgeons regarding my wisdom teeth. Oh joy of joys.

So, I've gone from needing a filling replaced to the possibility of extraction under a general anasthetic - this was certainly more than I bargained for when I arranged the appointment!

Lisa xxx

Poorly Pet

Graeme took Max to the vets on Wednesday because the poor thing has been peeing blood for a couple of days. He started having trouble going to the loo a couple of weeks ago, but it seemed to clear up last week. At the weekend though, his trouble came back with a vengeance and with the addition of blood in his wee. This isn't the first time Max has had this problem. Last time the vet said it was caused by the stress of a scary cat coming into our yard, but it cleared up with a course of tablets. There is no denying that Max is stressed out at the moment; the slightest thing is making him jump and he seems to be permanently on high alert. We have had some cats coming into our yard again, which made Max really unsettled and the arrival of Francis has certainly had an effect on him.

The Vet said that stress may have been the trigger, but there could be any number of underlying causes. Worryingly, as there is blood in the wee and as Max is constatly trying to empty his bladder, this could be the sign of something more serious than a spot of cystitis. This time, a more intensive course of treatment is needed. Max has had an antibiotic injection and today started a course of antibiotic tablets. Once the tablets are finished we have to get a wee sample from him (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Clearly this vet has never owned a cat...) and if tests show that it contains crystals he'll need another course of tablets and possibly a special diet! Hopefully it won't come to that and the current tablets will sort him out. Though, after the performance I had trying to get one down him this morning I suspect he may need further treatment.

Lisa xxx

Mole Malady

Today I went to the doctor to have a couple of moles on my back looked at. A few weeks ago Graeme told me he thought they looked different and, as I've watched a few medical programmes recently about the dangers of dodgy moles, I booked an appointment with my GP.

Thankfully, after taking a closer look at the moles in question, the doctor didn't feel that they were anything to worry about. However, I've been referred to Broadgreen Hospital where the doctor says, as a precaution, they will probably want to remove the moles. Something to look forward to then. I've had moles removed before and it wasn't pleasant (it involved a great deal of local anasthetic and the smell of burning flesh), but I'm more than happy to endure a bit of discomfort to remove something that has the potential to turn cancerous in the future. I'd love them to remove all of my moles, but I don't think there'd be much of me left afterwards!

Lisa xxx

Tooth Number Two!

Francis has cut his second tooth already! I wasn't expecting it so soon after cutting his first one. He's not bothered by them at all - no more tears than usual and still sleeping through the night. I hope he's like this when the the rest of his teeth make their appearance!

Lisa xxx

Francis Takes a Seat

Yesterday Francis sat unsupported for the first time! He can stay sitting for ages too which really surprised me, considering he's never sat on his own before.

Here is the evidence!

Lisa xxx

Tickled Pink

I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. For the first time ever I've accidentally dyed a load of washing. Unfortunately, it was Francis's things. Even more unfortunately, I dyed everything pink. The culprit was a beach towel we've had for years which I'd assumed wouldn't run. It's a shame the towel wasn't blue because this wouldn't have resulted in unwearable clothes!

I'm now desperately hoping the colour run remover does the trick, but the clothes still looked extremely pink when I last checked...

Lisa xxx

Things That Go Waaaaaaahhhh in the Night

Francis has really got the hang of rolling and can now circumnavigate the living room with surprising speed. I can't take my eyes off him for a second or he'll be chewing on my slippers or rolling dangerously close to the fireplace. Although this keeps me on my toes, it isn't really a problem. However, on Friday night we had our first bad night in months and it was all down to Francis's new skill.

Before I went to bed I popped in his room to check on him as the previous two mornings we'd found him lying in his front. As expected, he was lying on his front, but he was squashed up against the bars of the cot with his face pressed into the mattress. How he was managing to breathe I have no idea. I wasn't happy leaving him like this so I rolled him onto his back, but he was having none of it and rolled straight back again. Sensing I was fighting a losing battle, I left him on his front, but moved him to the middle of the cot and made sure his head was turned to the side.

I wasn't happy leaving him on his front and it took me ages to fall asleep as I lay in bed listening to his breathing over the monitor. The next thing I knew I was woken by Francis sounding a bit upset. I checked the clock - it was 3:45am. I knew Francis wouldn't be hungry and from the sound he was making I gathered he had probably rolled again and was uncomfortable.

I went into his room and as I'd suspected he was squashed up against the side of the cot again. I popped him back in the middle and thus began a 1 1/2 hour battle to get him back to sleep. He started crying so I gave him his dummy. He didn't want it and cried even more. So I picked him up which did calm him down, but he just screamed again whenever I put him down. So I started pacing the room with him and managed to get him off to sleep a couple of times, but for some reason he wouldn't stay settled. As I knew he was definitely teething I tried some teething gel, which stopped him crying for all of five minutes before he was off again. This time, even picking him up didn't work and I had no idea how to calm him down as he was screaming and flailing about in my arms.

I was at a complete loss and starting to feel quite upset myself - I'd been with Francis for about an hour. Luckily Graeme appeared at this point and took over. We decided to try Francis with some paracetamol just in case he was having some teething pain - it would be so much easier if Francis could just tell us what was wrong! By now I was shattered so, after I'd given Francis his paracetamol, I went to bed and left Graeme to try to settle him. Much to my relief (and annoyance) Graeme was able to get Francis off to sleep within 10 minutes or so; it was now about 5:30am. Thankfully, Francis stayed asleep. Well, until his 7am feed anyway.

The following day I felt the effects of my disturbed night. I was shattered and by early evening was struggling so had a nap. Francis also seemed a bit worse for wear. We went Christmas shopping and Francis slept the whole time we were out, which he has never done before. I really hope his unsettled night was a one-off and that I'm not in for a long stretch of sleep deprivation - I barely managed to get though the last one with my sanity intact!

Lisa xxx

Teeth!

On Thursday at Stay & Play there was a lady there to give a chat about dental health. In all honesty, most of what she had to say was just common sense, but she claimed that a lot of mums don't have the sense not to give their babies sugary drinks in their bottles. I got the feeling she was dying to tell me that something I was doing wasn't good for Francis's teeth, but I only brought her disappointment because it seems I'm already doing all the right things. At least I've got the hang of one part of motherhood...

The best part of the chat was the freebies! Francis got a free toothbrush and toothpaste and, as Francis didn't have any teeth, I was advised to let him play with the toothbrush to get him used to it. So, when we got home I sat Francis in his Bumbo and let him have a good chew on the toothbrush which then got thrown on the floor numerous times and generally dribbled on and abused.

The next day I did my usual check of Francis's gums. He's been showing signs of teething for months now so I like to check regularly to see if anything has emerged. Much to my surprise I could feel something sharp poking through his bottom gum! To be sure I wasn't imagining it, I tapped his gums with a teaspoon and, sure enough, there was the "chink chink" of a little tootipeg! Trust Francis to cut his first tooth the day after he renders a free toothbrush unusable.

Today while out shopping we picked him up a new, not free toothbrush and before his bath I brushed his teeth for the first time. He was as good as gold and actually seemed to really enjoy the new experience. Hopefully the novelty won't wear off for him and bath times will continue to be a fun time for both of us.

Lisa xxx

The Arrival of Francis James - Part 3 - Emotional Early Days

The story concludes...

Wednesday 7th March 2007

It was from Wednesday onwards that things became really hard for me. I didn't feel at all like I'd had a baby. It all felt very unreal to me. I don't know when I first cried, but once the tears came, it was difficult to stop. I felt like I'd had my pregnancy stolen from me. Reaching down and touching my soft belly where my lovely bump had been less than a day before was devastating. I loved being pregnant and suddenly I wasn't, yet I hadn't been through labour; my head couldn't get round that. I was also in a lot of pain from the surgery and the catheter and wound drain weren't doing much for my comfort or self esteem.

In the morning a doctor came to see me to debrief me on what had happened the previous day. I was told I had HELLP Syndrome, which I could vaguely remember reading about in one of my pregnancy books, but couldn't remember what it was. The only cure for HELLP is delivery of the baby which is why they had to act so quickly. Graeme researched HELLP when he got home that night and was horrified by what he read - my liver could have ruptured or I could have had a fit and gone into a coma. We had the shocking realisation that I could have died had it not been caught in time. I was left feeling eternally grateful to Fran whose intuition at my check-up had probably saved my life.

I first went to see Francis on Wednesday afternoon and had to be pushed there in a wheelchair. Seeing him in his incubator covered in tubes I was shocked at how tiny and fragile he looked. I waited for that rush of motherly love to come. It didn't. I felt nothing at all. I couldn't accept that he was my baby. I cried my eyes out I felt so bad. I couldn't even bring myself to say his name. For days I referred to him as "the baby" and felt very uncomfortable when Graeme called him Francis. He just didn't feel like mine at all. I didn't even want to hold him and it took some very patient persuading from Graeme before I could bring myself to do so.

On Wednesday night, either through coming off the morphine or through lack of sleep, I was hallucinating badly to the point where I couldn't distinguish between fantasy and reality. I was 100% convinced I'd not had a baby and that I was dreaming. I had the most horrendous panic attack and even once I'd calmed down I was still certain that it was all a dream and that I'd not really had a baby. I honestly thought I'd lost the plot and became increasingly frightened. I didn't dare tell the midwife how I was feeling - I was terrified she'd get a psychiatrist to come and see me. I didn't sleep a wink that night.

Thursday 8th March 2007

In the small hours of Thursday morning I was offered the chance of a shower. My shower was only marginally more dignified than my surgery. The only way I could shower with ease was to sling my catheter bag and drain over my shoulder. I was also in too much pain to dry and dress myself properly so a Healthcare Assistant had to help me. I wanted to go to the SCBU to see Francis again so that I could prove to myself that he was real and that I wasn't just having a horrendous nightmare. Shortly before I went there, a nurse came to my room and told me they'd put Francis on a ventilator. I barely reacted and told them not to ring Graeme, which is not characteristic of me at all. When I went through to see Francis he looked so poorly I burst into tears and the nurse persuaded me to let her ring Graeme - he was there within 20 minutes. I was so relieved to see him, as he was the only thing I was certain was real.

Later that day I was given the all clear to go back to the ward. I had my catheter and drain removed (which hurt quite a bit) and felt a bit more comfortable and human. To my horror, I was put on the postnantal ward with all the mums and babies. As much as I tried to make the best of it, I just couldn't, though I did manage to put on a brave face for my visitors. I was also upset to learn that I'd been put on Amlodipine, a BP medication which was incompatible with breastfeeding. I just couldn't understand this lunacy, as I'd told everybody of my intention to breastfeed, but I didn't have the energy to argue.

I had arranged to meet Graeme in the SCBU that night and by the time I got there I'd broken down and was screaming that I couldn't go back to the ward. I was so hysterical Graeme had to get a midwife to help calm me down. During our visit to Francis a nurse showed me how to hand-express milk and where to store it. I told her what the midwife had said about my medication and the nurse promised she would look into it for me. Afterwards I went back to the ward and tried again to cope being surrounded by babies. It was unbearable. I felt like I was being tortured every time one of the babies cried. I was constantly in tears and on the verge of panic. I was particularly upset by one mum who kept telling her one-day-old to shut up and calling her a divvy - it broke my heart. Why did this cretin, who probably shouldn't have been allowed to breed, be with her child while my baby was in intensive care?

At 1am I left the ward and went to the SCBU and told the nurse that I'd stay there all night if I had to, but I was not going back to the ward. I even threatened to discharge myself. The nurse snuck off at this point and rang my ward who arranged for me to be moved. When I was told, I broke down again, but this time with relief.

Friday 9th March 2007

I spent much of Friday on the ward hidden behind the curtains crying my eyes out. A lot of the time I wasn't even sure why I was crying. Other times I was crying for my lost pregnancy, not being able to go through labour, but most of all my lack of bond with the baby. This is probably the lowest I have ever felt.

I was also seen by a member of the Infant Feeding Team. I was not the only new mum who had been prescribed Amlodipine despite wanting to breastfeed. I was told that I would be switched to Nifedipine, but as the Amlodipine takes 48 hours to leave the system, I would have to discard my milk until then. I cannot begin to describe how heartbreaking it is going through the effort of hand-expressing milk for your premature baby, only to have to throw it down the sink. I still get angry about this now.

Saturday 10th March 2007

Saturday came and Paul and Becky visited in the evening. I was in the nursery with Francis waiting for Graeme to show them in. I was staring at this baby who I knew was mine, but he didn't feel like mine. I was feeling very low and started crying again. I asked Graeme to get me out of there (I was still using a wheelchair), by which point I was sobbing so uncontrollably I could barely speak. I remember crying out between sobs "He doesn't feel like mine!" and glancing up seeing the puzzled and concerned faces of Paul and Becky further along the corridor. I was taken somewhere quiet for a chat with a nurse and told her exactly how I felt about my stolen pregnancy, the "procedure" I had instead of a birth, my lack of bond, this not being the start I wanted for my new family... It felt good to get it all out and from this point on things did start to get a bit better for me.

Sunday 11th March

My blood results came back showing that my platelet count was back in the normal range. At last I was on the mend and would be discharged the following day. Although happy at the thought of sleeping in my own bed, my happiness was tinged with sadness at having to leave Francis behind. This was clearly going to be the start of a very difficult and heartbreaking few weeks; nobody should have to go home without their baby and I certainly hope I never have to do anything like that ever again.

Epilogue

I shall leave it there, as the rest of the saga has already been documented on the website in previous posts. However, things were far more difficult for me than I let on. The expressing milk 6 times a day was exhausting and if it wasn't for Graeme I may well have given up and resorted to formula. It was Graeme who dragged me out of bed those first few nights making sure that I used the pump; I am so grateful to him for pushing me as, 8 months on, I am still breastfeeding Francis and loving every second of it. Graeme went back to work the week after I was discharged so I had to make my own way to the hospital by public transport, which is hard work when you're recovering from major abdominal surgery. Even once Francis was home I still struggled emotionally. I found bonding with him incredibly difficult and I am certain this is down to the way he arrived.

As for having more children, I am really not sure what the future holds. Before Francis was born I wanted a large family, but since learning that I am at increased risk of developing HELLP Syndrome in future pregnancies I am very apprehensive about having another child. Thanks to the internet, I have spoken to other victims of HELLP and was delighted to discover that many of them go on to have healthy pregnancies and normal births the second time round. I would love my next pregnancy to go without a hitch and have a normal birth, but if I get HELLP again, that will be it - no more babies for me. I couldn't face going through that a third time. I can barely face the thought that it might happen next time, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For the moment, I'm just going to enjoy my little boy and try, once and for all, to put my experience of HELLP behind me and move on.

Lisa xxx

The Arrival of Francis James - Part Two - Francis Makes An Early Appearance

The story continues...

Monday 5th March 2007

Mr Williams came to see me quite early in the day with an entourage of other doctors and students. He did another ultrasound taking some detailed measurements of the baby. This took quite a while and when he'd finished he happily declared that the baby was not small after all and Graeme and I both breathed a sigh of relief. We were told that, because of the change in my condition, there was no way that I'd make it to 34 weeks but they would keep me on the medication and try to get an extra week out of the pregnancy. The emphasis was on the word "try" - there was every possiblilty that things could change and the baby would arrive even sooner.

In preparation for us having a premature baby, Graeme and I were given a tour of the Special Care Baby Unit. It was very surreal knowing that our baby would soon be a patient there and I was heartbroken that I wouldn't be able to bring him home. However, it did help seeing that the baby would get fantastic care and I got a great deal of comfort seeing extremely prem babies, some born as early as 24 weeks gestation, absolutely thriving.

Later that day I had some stomach pains, but nothing like I'd experienced on the Saturday. I paced the room trying to ease the pain, but nothing worked. I was given some Lactulose as the midwife suspected it may be wind, but the lactulose just gave me abdominal pains and I ended up having painkillers!

Tuesday 6th March 2007

On Tuesday morning the anaesthetist came to see me. My blood results had come back showing that my platelet count had dropped to dangerous levels overnight (I later read in my notes that my platelets had dropped to 65 when they should have been at least 480). I had repeat bloods done to check that this wasn't a mistake and if the results came back again showing a low count, I would be rushed to theatre for an emergency c-section. The anaesthetist went through all of my options with me just in case delivery was needed. I was very calm at this point and decided I'd like a spinal anasthetic so I'd be awake when the baby came. I really didn't believe that they'd need to deliver the baby so soon.

At around 11:30am my room was suddenly awash with medical staff - doctors, midwives, a consultant, students... you name it, they were there! It was bad news - my count had dropped yet again and I was told in no uncertain terms that the baby had to be delivered immediately. I felt a strange mixture of fear about what was going to happen and excitement at the thought of meeting my little boy. Over the next 20 minutes I was consented, had cannulas inserted and was given a quick whizz through what the proceedure involved. I signed the consent form in a bit of a haze. I didn't even bother reading it - it's not like I had any choice.

I was then whisked away to the theatre, Graeme following anxiously behind me. Graeme doesn't get stressed out about things that often, but I could see the strain showing in his face even though he was trying his best to be strong for me. Graeme wasn't allowed in to the theatre while I was being prepped and had to wait in a room at the other end of the corridor, so I was wheeled into theatre alone. I was terrified.

I was surprised how bright the theatre was - not at all what I'd been expecting, but then maybe I just watch too many hospital dramas. I was transferred onto the operating table and a Theatre Assistant called James introduced himself. I immediately felt a bit more relaxed as James told me that it was his job explain everything that was happening to me. And true to his word he did exactly that. He talked me through every step of the process. I was sat up on the table while the anaesthetist prodded around my back looking for a good place for the spinal. I didn't even feel it go in. I was then laid down and my legs started to go warm until eventually I couldn't feel or move them at all; I actually found this quite funny at the time. I was hooked up to a couple of drips and catheterised, which, it must be said, was possibly the least dignifying experience I've ever had. The lower half of my body was then shielded from view and the surgeons moved in. All the while, James was explaining every step to me, which I found extremely reassuring.

Then Graeme appeared, looking rather pale and anxious, dressed head-to-toe in theatre garb. He sat to my right and held my hand tightly throughout the whole proceedure. I could feel the surgeons doing their stuff, but it didn't hurt; it just felt like they were rummaging about in my insides, which to be fair is exactly what they were doing. I was then told that they were going to press on my tummy to simulate contractions to get the baby out. This was very uncomfortable - I felt like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed down the middle, but with a pneumatic drill. Then at 12:18pm, weighing only 3lb 3oz, our little boy made his early entrance into the world.

I'd prepared myself for the baby to need resuscitation so was shocked when I heard very loud and very strong crying. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard and I burst into tears; so did Graeme. The baby was checked over (I later found out both his Apgar scores were 9) and wrapped up in blankets. The nurse brought him over for a quick kiss before he was rushed off to the SCBU; I didn't see him again until the following afternoon.

At this point I start to feel very lightheaded and felt like I would pass out. I was quite frightened, but James explained that this was normal and due to a drop in BP. This carried on for some time and I was really struggling to stay awake so was put on 100% oxygen. I then started to feel very sick, which was terrifying considering I was lying on my back and couldn't move. They put a bowl next to my head and sure enough I vomited my guts up several times, managing to get it in my hair. Vomiting over, I started to feel cold and began shaking uncontrollably, which progressed into small convulsions. Graeme was convinced I was having a fit, but the anaesthetist assured Graeme that this was a normal reaction to the anasthetic. I felt bloody awful and the lack of control over my body was quite frightening. I can remember feeling terrified that I would lose consciousness and never wake up again. This was not what I had in mind for my first experience of giving birth.

Ordeal over, I was moved to recovery while Graeme went back to my room to wait for me. In recovery I was surprised to see Jane in the next bay - I very nearly had stolen her theatre slot! My convulsing continued for quite a while and I was kept on oxygen while I struggled to stay awake. It was a very unnerving experience having to make so much effort to speak or even lift my hand. A nurse brought me a couple of photos of Francis and I just lay there staring at them trying to process what had just happened. Was that REALLY my baby?

I was in recovery for an hour (so I'm told - things get very hazy after this) and can remember being wheeled back to my room. I was quite lucid to start with so Graeme and I were able to choose a name for our new arrival. We decided on Francis, after Fran, my midwife and James, after my Great-Grandad. I was hooked up to a morphine PCA (Patient Controlled Analgaesia), IV fluids and IV BP medication. I was also shocked to discover that I had a drain in my wound. The BP meds meant that I was virtually nil by mouth - I could only have 40ml of water to sip every hour. I eventually learned to make 40ml last quite a while! When the midwife stopped my drip for an hour so I could have tea and toast, I felt like I was having the most wonderful meal I'd ever had. Although the morphine was fantastic pain relief it did make me hallucinate. I had visits from the doctor and conversations with Graeme that never actually happened. Every time I closed my eyes I could hear whispering in my ears and had the sensation of people touching my legs, so I was very reluctant to go to sleep. A couple of days later I read through my notes and was shocked that I had no memory of some of the things written in it. This was not how I'd imagined I'd be spending the first day of my baby's life.

Third and final part coming soon...

The Arrival of Francis James - Part One - The Problems Start

As promised, here is the first installment of Francis's birth story. In the interest of confidentiality, with the exception of Fran, my midwife, and James, the theatre assistant, the names of all health professionals and fellow patients have been changed. I wouldn't want to see myself being accused of bringing nursing into disrepute!

Thursday 1st March 2007

At 30+4 weeks pregnant I went to see my Midwife, Fran, for my routine 30-week check-up. I was feeling well, apart from being signed off sick with exhaustion, and was looking forward to hearing the baby's heartbeat again. As usual, Fran took my blood pressure and tested my urine for protein. Worryingly, my BP was slightly raised and I had +1 of protein in my urine. As Fran toyed with the idea of sending me to hospital, I made the decision for her after telling her about my swollen ankles and flashing spots in front of my eyes, all signs of pre-eclampsia. While Fran said it was highly unlikely that there was anything wrong, she felt it best that I be checked out at the hospital just in case and rang the assessment unit to let them know I was on my way.

I trundled off to the bus stop feeling a little perplexed and slightly concerned. I made a quick call to Graeme to tell him what had happened and he agreed to meet me at the hospital. Once there we made our way to the Day Assessment Unit where I was strapped to a BP monitor for an hour (an experience I would later become accustomed to) and had to provide another urine sample for a more in-depth analysis. I also had to give what was to become the first of many many blood samples. Before getting the test results I was seen by a specialist midwife who performed another scan of the baby to check that all was well; unfortunately, according to her at least, all was not well. She informed us that the baby was small for my dates and I had very little amniotic fluid. Naturally this sent my mind into overdrive and did nothing for my nerves.

Eventually we got the news we did not want to hear - I was to be admitted for further tests and observation. At about 5pm we were led up to the antenatal ward where I sat on the bed feeling thoroughly fed up and more than a little frightened at the prospect of being on my own. I was well and truly out of my comfort zone. I was told I'd have to do a 24-hour urine collection and my blood pressure was to be very closely observed, as was the baby. So I was given a jug to pee in and a container in which to store it and was left to wonder what the hell had happened. Why is nothing ever straightforward for me?

Friday 2nd March 2007

At this point I really didn't believe that anything would go horribly wrong. I was certain that I'd be going home in a couple of days despite being monitored closely and clung to the hope that I could still have the water birth I so desperately wanted. A visit from the Consultant, Mr Williams, shattered my hopes. As Sod's Law would have it, he arrived just after Graeme had popped out for some lunch. Mr Williams explained that I did indeed have pre-eclampsia. I'd read enough about PE to know that it could turn very nasty and for the first time since my admission I was glad I was in hospital.

However, I was totally unprepared for what Mr Williams said next. I was told that my pregnancy would not go to term and that, because of the PE, the baby would be delivered at some point in the next few weeks by caesarean section and would then have to spend a couple of weeks in the Special Care Baby Unit. I was crushed and in complete shock. My dream of a water birth and bringing the baby home the same day lay in tatters. The only positive news Mr Williams had for me was that I'd be able to go home on Saturday provided my urine had less than 0.5g of protein in it, otherwise I'd be staying in hospital until they felt the time was right to deliver the baby. Mr Williams was hopeful that I would get to 34 weeks provided my condition remained stable, but told me I should prepare myself for the possibility of an even earlier arrival. Needless to say, Graeme was not very pleased to hear all of this when he got back from lunch.

Saturday 3rd March 2007

My urine test results came back and it was not good news. There was 0.55g of protein in my urine meaning that I was unable to go home. I was pretty annoyed, but did take some solace from the fact that I was in the best possible place.

That evening I got some horrendous pains just below my ribcage. I'd never known pain like it and was struggling to cope. Debbie, the less-than-sympathetic midwife, took little notice of me, even when Graeme asked her for help, and the next thing I knew I was in the grip of a panic attack. Debbie's solution to this was to open a window and tell me that if I didn't calm down I'd distress the baby. Very helpful. She also ordered Graeme off the ward because visiting was over! I was distraught and Graeme was clearly horrified at having to leave me. Fortunately the attack passed, as did the pain, and I was able to call Graeme on the sly to let him know that all was well. I have since learned that the pain could have been a sign of problems with my liver, so Debbie really should have shown a bit more concern.

Sunday 4th March

Today was the day things started to go downhill. As usual I'd been feeling well. In the early evening, just after tea, I was sat in the chair with my feet up, half-reading a magazine and chatting to Jane, the lady in the next bed. Jane was in for an elective c-section as her baby was transverse and we were joking that maybe I'd nick her theatre slot. Graeme had gone home for his tea. A student came along to do my latest BP check. I was well used to this by now and carried on chatting to Jane. I stopped chatting when the obs machine started beeping quite angrily so I glanced up at it and saw that my BP was 195/100! I was shocked and knew instantly that things were taking a turn for the worse. The poor student obviously thought she'd done something wrong so re-did my BP using my other arm, with pretty much the same result. She went for help as I sat there in shock, but putting on a brave face. A midwife came and checked my BP manually and then went to find a doctor.

A registrar turned up and told me that they were very worried about my BP (no shit!) and as a result were moving me to the delivery suite! They wasted no time either - I was instantly whisked away on my bed to a High Dependency room on the delivery suite. I knew Graeme was due to come back to the hospital soon and didn't want him arriving at the ward only to be told I'd been taken to delivery! A student went to phone him while I was told that, because of my escalating blood pressure, they were going to have to deliver the baby!

Graeme arrived and was as white as a sheet. The midwife started preparing to catheterise me for theatre when a doctor came into the room and told her to stop! Mr Williams had been consulted and he felt that the best course of action was to put me on some antihypertensives to manage my BP and review my situation the following day. Talk about feeling relieved! So I was started on a course of Nifedipine, which gave me horrendous headaches, and attached to an obs machine, which went off every 20 minutes thus ensuring I would get little or no sleep for the remainder of my pregnancy.

Part 2 coming soon...

The Whole Story

I've decided that the time has come to put Francis's birth story on the website. Certain recent events have got me thinking about it more than usual and I've realised that, while my physical recovery took only a couple of months, emotionally I still have a long way to go. I am at the point where I don't think I will ever get over it and while I feel this way the prospect of any more children is far too scary to think about. Although most people know the gist of what happened to me I really feel it's time that everyone knew the full story and I am hoping that by getting things off my chest I can start to put the experience behind me and move on.

I am warning you now, it will be long! I may need to post it in installments or there is the possibility that Graeme may set up a separate page for it. I shall make a start on it today and hopefully have it on the site within the week.

Lisa xxx

September - Pine Lake, Teen Mums and Lunch with Friends

It's occurred to me that I do not have the time to write posts for all the stuff that has happened recently, which means that my promised holiday post has been given the boot. Instead, here is September in a nutshell.

We spent the first week of September at the Pine Lake Resort in the Lake District, thanks to Graeme's parents letting us use their holiday club. We had a 2-bedroom lodge all to ourselves and were able to forget about real life for a week. Having a small baby prevented us from taking full advantage of the local acttractions and resort activities, but we still had a lovely time. We visited Lancaster (like York, but nowhere near as pretty), Morecambe (THE place to go if you have a Motability scooter) and Kendal (which was beautiful, but I was far too tired to appreciate it). We even managed to have dinner in the bar a couple of times or just a coffee if we just fancied getting out of the lodge for an hour or so. Unfortunately, Francis chose this week to start waking three times a night for a feed, so I pretty much missed the mornings by catching up on sleep. It was by no means a restful break for me, but it was lovely to have a change of scene. I'd love to take Francis back there when he's older.

September also saw me being invited to a Teenage Mums group to chat to them about breastfeeding. They were a nice bunch, not at all what I'd been expecting. Only one of them resolutely said she won't breastfeed (which, quite frankly, baffles the hell out of me) but one girl was very interested and asked loads of questions. The rest were not very vocal. The midwife thought it was amazing that I was still breastfeeding after my unconventional start to motherhood. She also told me I'm only the third HELLP Syndrome case she's ever encountered. Let's hope I'm the last; I wouldn't wish my experience on my worst enemy.

Towards the end of the month I was delighted to receive a Facebook message from my friend Vicky, who lives down in Swindon. I first got to know Vicky a few years ago via a website and we met up in person last year, along with a few others from the same website. Vicky's message said that she and her husband Phil were coming to Liverpool for a party and did I fancy meeting up for lunch? Of course I said yes, having not seen her for ages and having no idea when I'll get another chance. So, on the last day of Spetember, Graeme, Francis and myself met up with Vicky and Phil in Wetherspoons pub in town for lunch and a chat. It was lovely to see Vicky again and to meet Phil for the first time after hearing so much about him.

Sorry to be so brief, but Francis is getting more demanding now so I don't have as much time on my hands. I'll do a recap of more recent events later in the week.

Lisa xxx

Message From Beyond The Tyne...

As some people may be aware, Lisa has been spending the week up norf with the parents, enjoying the freedom that comes with having somebody else to play with the baby for 5 minutes. Given that when left on my own, I tend to sit and do absolutely nothing most of the time, there have STILL been no more updates to the website.

Obviously, Lisa now has loads of spare time while Francis is coo'd by all and sundry, so she filmed a little clip of him having a play on his gym and uploaded it to youtube. Check it out HERE.

Lisa will be back this weekend, and then (possibly) normal website service will be resumed!

Gallery Updates!

In lieu of any interesting posts I've uploaded some pictures to the gallery. Francis's album finally has some new content and I've added our holiday photos. I will get round to writing an account of our holiday soon - I promise!

Lisa xxx

Apologies

I just want to say sorry for the lack of updates on the website recently. I know I promised a story about our holiday, but I just haven't had the time or the energy. I've had a difficult few weeks with Francis waking several times a night for feeds, so I've been pretty drained and haven't really felt up to posting. Fortunately, Francis slept through last night, so hopefully I'll be able to recover from my zombie-like state and put some more time into the website. Oh, and tackling the ironing probably isn't a bad idea either.

Lisa xxx

Holiday Story Coming Soon

Some of you know that we were on holiday last week. Normally I'd have written a post about it within a couple of days of getting back, but I just haven't had the time. I've not even put the photos on the PC yet. I'll update you on our holiday as soon as I get the chance, which will probably be at the weekend when Graeme is around to do Francis Duty!

Lisa xxx

Locked Out!

Yesterday I managed to lock myself out of the house. After being completely convinced that I'd put my keys in the changing bag, I was both bewildered and dismayed to find that this wasn't the case at all. Luckily I'd remembered my phone and made a very sheepish call to Graeme to tell him what I'd done.

To add insult to injury, when I got to the Surestart Centre, my reason for venturing out, I couldn't get in as nobody came when I rang the bell. I went to the school entrance and stood there like a numpty until someone noticed me and escorted me to the baby clinic. I was then told that clinic had been moved to Fridays, but I was welcome to stay and chat for a while. As there was another mum there and given that I wasn't having the best of days, I stayed for an hour or so. It was nice to talk to other adults during the day, so I've decided to take advantage of some of the other baby groups run by the centre, though I think I'll stay well clear of "Jingle Jangle"...

Afterwards, I rang Graeme to let him know I was on my way home, so he could leave work to let me in the house. I had to take the "scenic" route home to add extra time to my journey, so that I wouldn't end up sitting on the door step waiting for him; our front door is right on the street, so I'd have looked very odd indeed!

Lisa xxx

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'

On Sunday, while at Paul and Becky's flat, Francis was being a bit grouchy, so I thought maybe a nappy change would help. He cheered up and was happily flailing about on the rug, so I decided to put him on his tummy for a bit of "tummy time". He HATES tummy time, but I know it's important for his development, so I try to do it every so often. This time he obviously decided that he really didn't want to be on his tummy and rolled over onto his back! I put him on his front again just to see if it was a fluke, and he did it again!

I picked him up and started squealing "clever boy" at him like a complete loon. I don't think Francis had any idea why I was squealing at him, but he looked so thrilled I thought he might burst with excitement. I'm amazed at how far he's come given his less than perfect start in life. Here's hoping he continues to make such fabulous progress!

Lisa xxx

The Moses Basket Retires

On Tuesday night, while Graeme was at the Liverpool match (4-0!), I faced the mammoth task of putting Francis to bed. Francis isn't great at settling for me at bed time - Graeme usually settles him - so I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect. At about 8pm Francis started yawning and, instead of settling him in the living room and carrying him up as we normally do, I decided to try and settle him upstairs. I also thought that the time had come for him to start sleeping in the nursery, because there is precious little room left in his moses basket.

I popped Francis in the cot and turned out the light, hoping he would get himself off to sleep like he does after his night-feeds, but he was having none of it. So I tried picking him up and pacing the floor with him - this didn't work either. I managed to calm him down so I put him back in the cot... at which point he started screaming and going purple in the face. So I did the only thing that settles him when he's in such a state - I breastfed him. Within seconds he was asleep. Even so, it was a good 5 minutes before I felt brave enough to attempt to stealthily place him in the cot. I was right to feel wary - he woke as soon as I moved and I had to pop him back on the breast to get him to sleep again before he roused enough to realise what was happening. Eventually, after another brief feed, I held my breath and, extremely slowly, placed him back in the cot and nervously slid my hands out from under him. After satisfying myself that he was sound asleep, I backed out of the room and closed the door, cursing myself for forgetting to spray the hinges with WD40.

Going to bed that night was an unpleasant experience. This was the first night that I'd slept in a different room to Francis since he came home from the hospital. I found it extremely difficult to settle. I'd become accustomed to looking over the edge of the bed and seeing Francis snoozing happily in his moses basket or reaching out and holding his tiny hand; now that Francis wasn't there I felt very uncomfortable. Every little snuffle and whimper over the baby monitor had me on edge; I couldn't help but wonder what each whimper meant. It was some small comfort to me that the baby monitor was so sensitive that I could hear Francis breathing.

I woke up at 5:30am to the sound of Francis grizzling for his next feed. He looked so pleased to see me when I picked him up, so I'm not convinced he likes being in a room on his own. As it was so early I brought him into the bed where he stayed until it was time to get up.

I still didn't feel any better about him being in the cot when we did it again last night, but we have no alternative. He is too big for the moses basket and the cot is too big for our room. I guess I'm just sad that this is a stark reminder of how quickly Francis is growing and his needs changing. It'll be his first day at school before I've had time to recover from all the sleepless nights!

Lisa xxx

PS - Francis was weighed on Tuesday and is now 11lb 10oz.

Street Fighter

Last night I was woken from my slumber by a to-do in the street. Well, I say to-do, but it sounded like a loads of banshees having a riot. I don't know what it is about this area, but when people have some sort of beef with one another they like to settle their differences in the street. By shouting and screaming. In the middle of the night. And they like to bring all their friends along for good measure because it would seem that the best way to settle a dispute is to see whose "team" can scream and swear the loudest. "Who the f*** do you think you are?" is a favoured taunt as is "It's got nottun to do wit' you."

I have no idea what this group of women were arguing about. Their yelling was so high-pitched I'm surprised I could hear it at all. It went on for a good 15 minutes, during which time I prayed they wouldn't move any closer to our house and contemplated calling the police. As it happens the police did turn up, but the fight had thankfully moved further away by that point.

I have never heard the like of it in my life. Why people feel the need to shout and scream at each other like that, especially in the street, is just beyond me. Some people just have no class or decorum whatsoever. Sadly, this type of incident is becoming quite common in our street. The woman next door has some sort of feud going with another woman and they regularly engage in verbal sparring in the street. As if fights weren't bad enough, a couple of weeks ago someone set a car on fire at the end of our block. I used to be quite happy living round here, but I'm starting to become more uncomfortable with the situation - this is clearly no place to be raising a child. And Liverpool is going to be the Capital of Culture next year. What a joke.

Lisa xxx

Solid as a Rock

Today Francis had his first taste of solid food.

I'd suspected for a while that Francis may be ready for weaning. When we saw the consultant last month he said that we should go by Francis's actual age, not his corrected age, when deciding when to wean. This surprised me at the time as I had fully prepared myself for Francis to reach 8 months old before being introduced to a spoon. However, given Francis's behaviour over the past couple of weeks I can see the consultant's advice was spot on.

Francis has gone from 3-hourly feeds to feeding every 1 1/2 hours or so, sometimes more frequently. His fingers are never out of his mouth and he's started chewing on his muslin squares. He's started waking up at stupid o'clock every morning, has become very difficult to settle at bed time and has stopped sleeping through. Last night, for example, he fed at 7:30pm, which is usually his last feed, and was in bed at 8:45pm. By 9pm he was awake screaming for a feed. I fed him and got him back to sleep, but he woke again at 10:30. I'd hoped this might be it, but he woke yet again at midnight! It was gone 1am by the time he went to sleep and then he was awake at 6am! I've lost count of the number of feeds he's had today. I barely get a second to myself and I'm feeling incredibly drained.

It wasn't until today that I was completely satisfied that it wasn't a growth spurt. I'd put Francis in his bouncy chair in the kitchen so I could get the dishes done - sometimes he's happy to watch me. I'd almost finished when I could hear him getting quite upset - I turned round to find him attempting to eat the toys on his play arch and getting incredibly annoyed that they weren't edible. I found it very upsetting to see him so frustrated so I decided to try him with some baby rice. After some initial upset about accepting a spoon, he seemed quite keen on the rice - he screamed whenever I took the spoon away! He became very upset after a few spoonfuls, so I gave him a breast feed which calmed him down and got him off to sleep.

I'm going to take the weaning very slowly and will stick with baby rice for a while. I'm very conscious of Francis's prematurity and don't want to cause any problems for him by rushing things. Still, if things go well it should make my day a bit easier - I seem to be permanently feeding him at the moment and I'm exhausted!

Lisa xxx

Happy Birthday Little Alan!

Happy Birthday to my cousin, Little Alan. He's 18 today, so not so little any more!

I could mention how it seems like only yesterday he was just a baby, crawling backwards around the living room, but I won't - that just makes me feel old.

Apologies for posting this so late in the day, but this is the first chance I've had - Francis is a demanding little boy!

Love from Lisa, Graeme & Francis xxx

A Trip to Hoylake

Yesterday we went to Hoylake to see the progress our friends Steve and Al have made on doing up Al's old house. There's a family waiting to move in so Al really needs it finished in double-quick time, but, it being such an old house that hasn't been touched for years, they've had no end of problems hampering their progress. Even so, the place was looking pretty good considering they've still got a lot to do. I was particularly impressed by the kitchen with its solid oak units and snazzy mosaic tiles. Seeing what can be done to a place really makes me want to get stuck in with the rest of our house so that we can get it finished and move on to bigger and better things ASAP!

After a cuppa and a chat we said our goodbyes and headed to the beach to make the most of the remaining sun. We strolled along the promenade eating ice creams with the sun at our backs, Francis snoozing in his pram. All around us were families with young children, enjoying this rare occurance of sunshine. There were no scallies around, no grafitti, no girls in ugg boots and pyjamas... It was a world away from Liverpool. I was very sad to leave and found returning to our not-so-idyllic neck of the woods with its boarded up houses and gangs of kids really quite depressing. The sooner we can move away from Anfield the better.

Lisa xxx

Sad News

Sweep, one of my family's much-loved cats, passed away this morning. He was 12 years old.

Sweep had been beset with health problems recently and despite exceptional care from the vet, his condition continued to deteriorate. My Mam took him to the vet again at the weekend as Sweep had virtually stopped eating and was painfully thin. The vet said that the growth in Sweep's leg had been cancerous and the cancer had spread and there was nothing more they could do. I had the feeling Sweep was seriously ill the last time I saw him, but I honestly never thought that this would happen. Sweep has always been so fit and healthy, so to see him go like this is truly heartbreaking.

Night night Sweepies. We'll all miss you.


Lisa xxx

All Night Long

Francis slept through the night for the first time! He had his last feed yesterday at 11pm and didn't wake for his next feed until 5:45am. When I woke up to feed him I was a bit confused and wasn't quite sure what was going on. I thought maybe I'd been so zonked for his 3am feed that I'd forgotten it (it wouldn't be the first time).

Francis obviously felt that waking once in the night wasn't quite enough stress for me, so he decided to have a bit of a puke-fest all over the duvet. He then took ages to settle - he wasn't crying, but he obviously felt that there were far better things to do than sleep at 6 in the morning. I left him to it and he eventually drifted off at around 6:45am.

I'm hoping that this wasn't a one-off and I can start to get a decent stretch of sleep at night. I've been sleeping in 2 1/2 hour stints since he came home, so after last night I feel like I've slept for a month!

Lisa xxx

A Hospital Check-Up

Today Francis had an appointment at Liverpool Women's Hospital to check his progress. I'm pleased to report that he's doing really well (not that I needed a doctor to tell me that). Graeme had taken the afternoon off work so that I didn't have to trek there on my own using public transport. We arrived early and thankfully didn't have to wait too long to be seen. Francis was weighed and measured by the nurses before we saw the doctor - he was smiling at them the whole time. The smiles disappeared when we saw the doctor though - Francis screamed throughout the consultation!

Francis tipped the scales at 9lb 13.5oz - a 1lb 1.5oz gain in less than 2 weeks. The doctor was really pleased with his weight gain and overall development. We discussed a couple of concerns (nothing major - just his reflux and the fact that he only wants to look to the right when he's on his back!) but the doctor felt there was no need for us to worry. We're to carry on giving Francis Gaviscon when necessary and if his neck "problem" becomes more noticable, the doctor may refer Francis for physio, though hopefully it won't come to that.

After the appointment we headed to the "feeding room" (and I use this term very loosely) to feed Francis. The feeding room was nothing more than a glorified utility room with a couple of seats and a changing mat in it. I was appalled that a hospital that claims to promote "breast is best" would have such poor feeding facilities and I'm actually considering writing to the hospital to complain. Both Mamas and Papas and John Lewis's feeding facilities put this one to shame. We were even interrupted twice by staff coming in to use the sink! I think next time I'll feed Francis in the foyer!

Afterwards, instead of heading straight home, we drove to Allerton to go for a coffee. Costa was packed with mums and babies so it was a bit noisy! In fact, I think Francis was the only baby who was asleep! Spending time in Allerton always makes me want to move house - I'm getting a bit fed up of our tiny 2-up-2-down. It's funny to think that Allerton is the area we really wanted to live in, but we just couldn't afford it and ended up in the much less desirable Anfield instead. Still, the property market round here is booming so we should make a tidy profit on this house and be able to move somewhere much bigger in a nicer area.

By the time we got home it was after 5pm and as you can see the busy afternoon was just too much for Francis.

Lisa xxx

Moses Basket Case

After several weeks of successful co-sleeping, it all went a bit pear-shaped. Francis became increasingly unhappy with the arrangement and ended up more unsettled than he had ever been in his moses basket. He was fussing at feeds, refusing to feed, screaming for ages and his reflux seemed worse than ever. Feeds were lasting forever and I was finding it increasingly difficult to settle him. Nights turned into an absolute nightmare which left me completely exhausted and I suspect Francis found it a bit knackering too. Something had to be done. So, four nights ago we started putting him to bed in his moses basket.

I suppose I should mention at this point that we started giving him a dummy a couple of weeks ago. I really didn't want to, but Francis was having trouble getting himself to sleep and had started sucking his thumb for comfort. It pains me to say it, but the dummy has helped immensely. Francis will let me put him down for naps during the day now, which gives me a bit of a breather. We only give him the dummy to help him settle and he usually spits it out once he's asleep, so I don't think we need to worry about him having a dummy addiction. And, so far, I've not noticed any effect on his breastfeeding. The infant feeding team at the hospital had warned me against giving him a dummy and I have read cases of babies developing nipple confusion which completely ruined their ability to breastfeed. Luckily, nipple confusion seems to have passed Francis by.

Thanks to the dummy, we have been able to settle Francis in his basket at bedtime. It wasn't easy at first - I spent much of the first night with my arm dangling over the side of the bed holding the dummy in his mouth - but I've noticed an improvement already. On Saturday night he refused to have the dummy and got off to sleep on his own, so hopefully the dummy is only a temporary measure. He's also been settling much quicker after feeds. He's still a three-hourly feeder, but feeds are much shorter now so not as draining on me in the middle of the night.

I'm hoping that this is the start of things getting a bit easier for me. I've definitely been getting a little extra sleep these past few nights and haven't been as tired during the day, though I do still use the mornings to catch up on the sleep I've missed. Once Francis goes longer between feeds I might actually start to feel like a human being in the morning!

Lisa xxx

Weigh to Go!

I've just had a visit from the health visitor who gave me some information on weaning Francis. Mind you, it will be a good few months before I even think about weaning him - his corrected age is only 7 weeks!

She'd brought the scales so Francis could be weighed. I was delighted to be told he is now 8lb 12oz. He's still gaining 9oz a week and has nothing but breastmilk; my little boy is growing so fast and it's all my own work!

The health visitor also told me off for not eating enough. Apparently, I'm so exhausted because all my energy is going into making breastmilk for Francis and my body has nothing left for me! Oh well, any excuse to eat more is fine by me!

Lisa xxx

Father's Day

I hope all the Dads and Grandads out there had a very Happy Father's Day!

It was Graeme's first ever Father's Day and I think it was a good day for him. We'd had a rough couple of days with Francis being very unsettled, so decided we deserved a lie in. After reminding Graeme that it was Father's Day (he'd completely forgotten) I presented him with his little bag of gifts. I'd not realised it was a "Happy Birthday" bag when I bought it - I'd only noticed the Daddish images of ties, socks and cars. Still, Graeme didn't seem to mind when I pointed this out.

He seemed pleased with his presents - Gordon Ramsey's autobiography, a "Me to You" Dad photo frame and a mysterious CD which was later revealed to be a photo montage tribute to Graeme and what a great Daddy he is :o) Far better than anything you can buy in the shops if I do say so myself! After a rather stressful shopping trip to buy essential groceries, Graeme spent some time with Francis while I tackled the mountain of ironing that has built up over the past few weeks and then cooked bangers and mash for tea. I don't get the chance to cook very often so it made a nice change (even if I did make an arse of the mashed potato and almost ruin the gravy). Unfortunately, Francis was very cranky so Graeme and I had to take turns to console him and eat our meals. It wasn't quite the special end to the day I'd been hoping for, but we learned very quickly that you can't always get what you want when you have a baby!

Lisa xxx

Francis Says Cheese!

After weeks of trying, we have finally managed to get a picture of Francis smiling!


He smiles every day now, so hopefully there'll be plenty more pics to follow!

Lisa xxx

Some Like It Hot...

...but I don't. Neither does Graeme. At the weekend, we discovered that Francis doesn't either.

We were up pretty early on Saturday and by 11am were on our way to New Mersey Retail Park. (This might not seem early to you, but it's a small miracle for us. Since Francis came home we've rarely got out before 2pm.) We were expecting Paul and Becky at 4pm so knew we had to be back well before then to tidy up and prepare the tea. It was a sunny day so I slathered factor 50+ all over Francis and put on some factor 25 myself. However, it wasn't until we arrived at the retail park that we realised just how hot it was. It was scorching.

Almost immediately Francis was unsettled. We grabbed some lunch in Boots, and I got a new Ladyshave with my birthday money as I managed to break my last one, then headed over to Mamas & Papas to use their feeding room. Francis didn't feed for too long, so I suspect the heat had just made him thirsty. To help cool him down we stripped him down to his vest. While in Mamas & Papas we picked up a parasol for the pram and I treated myself to a new mega-sized changing bag as my old shoulder bag just wasn't big enough to fit everything in. While I was paying for them, Francis was sick down Graeme's t-shirt. Oh how we laughed.

Our next stop-off was Next so I could spend the Giftcard that Steve and Sandra, Graeme's Mum and Dad, had got me for my birthday. Usually I have trouble choosing something, but I immediately spotted a lovely pair of bermuda-short-style jeans. I was less than surprised to discover I'd gone up a size, but it was nice to wear a pair of non-maternity jeans for a change! I used the money left on the card to get a little sun hat for Francis.

While in Next Francis had a small nappy explosion so we popped in to Starbucks to use the changing facilities. We decided we deserved a rest so found a table and ordered a couple of Frappuccinos. Francis chose this moment to become unsettled again; warm weather clearly doesn't agree with him. We decided to make a swift getaway; I went and sat in the car to feed Francis again while Graeme popped to Marks & Spencer to pick up a few bits and bobs for tea.

The heat had obviously got to all of us as when we got home we all fell asleep! Luckily Paul and Becky let us know they were going to be late, so we had plenty of time to recharge our batteries and do a bit of tidying up. Paul and Becky arrived at 6:30pm laden with gifts! I got an HMV Giftcard for my birthday and Francis got a playmat. He seemed to really like it, although he is a bit young to fully appreciate it. I'm sure he'll really love it once he can roll over and properly interact with things. Graeme did all the cooking (Thanks Graeme!) so I got the chance to relax a bit. We watched a couple of films and Paul and Becky left at 11pm. We had a lovely evening and hopefully we'll do it again soon.

Steve and Sandra came to visit the next day, so it turned out to be a pretty busy weekend. By Monday I was knackered and the continuing hot weather certainly wasn't helping matters much. The warm weather has continued for the past couple of days. It's been too warm to have Francis in the sling and he has been fussing quite badly at feeds making it a tough few days for me. At least nighttimes are now under control thanks to co-sleeping. Last night Francis fed at midnight and 4am and settled straightaway, something which was unheard of when I was struggling every night to get him in his basket. It once took me over 3 hours to settle him and he ended up in the bed anyway; co-sleeping just cuts out all the intermittent stress! It's not without it's drawbacks though - I woke up this morning to find both of us covered in sick. Nice.

The weather has cooled off a lot so I plan on getting Francis in the sling again so I can have my arms back! Also, on the advice of the health visitor, I eat my lunch while Francis has his lunchtime feed, so at least I'm getting something decent during the day instead of living on biscuits and Muller Rice! The next plan of action is to get Francis sleeping in his pram during the day. I've given up on his moses basket - he HATES it!

Lisa xxx

Happy Birthday Rachel!

It's my little sister's 21st Birthday today!


Have a great day Rachel! I hope your present got there on time - I didn't have the chance to post it until Saturday!

Lots of Love,
Lisa, Graeme & Francis xxx

Pilin' on the Ounces!

Francis was weighed again this morning - he's put on 9oz this week, taking him up to 7lb 1oz. It's obviously good stuff this breastmilk!

I also spoke to Kate about the hoo-ha we'd had at Alder Hey last week. She was ever so apologetic. It turns out someone else had marked the graph then shown it to Kate who had obviously thought Francis wasn't gaining enough. So, a simple case of passing on misinformation. I doubt it will happen again!

Lisa xxx

Starring Francis James Thornton...

A couple of weeks ago I discovered Windows Movie Maker and put together a little montage of Francis' first 2 months of life. I was very pleased with the result and decided I wanted to share it with friends and family. After several unsuccessful attempts at uploading it to our gallery, I bit the bullet and uploaded it to YouTube instead. Here is the finished film - make sure you have your sound on. Enjoy!

Lisa xxx

A Perfect Birthday

Yesterday was my 27th Birthday. Another year older and, for the first time, definitely wiser - I am a Mummy now after all!

I woke at around 9am having had a really good nights sleep for a change. (I've discovered the joys of co-sleeping with Francis. I'm now able to feed him while I lie on my side and go back to sleep!) Graeme brought me my cards and gifts and I opened them all while still in bed. I got money from my Mum and Dad and Aunties Yvonne and Alison, a book from my sister, a Next Giftcard from my in-laws and a Body Shop Giftcard from my brother. Graeme had obviously been very receptive in recent weeks and had bought me things I'd been planning on buying myself - Night at the Museum on Blu-ray and The World According to Clarkson Volume 2. He also bought me a chocolate monkey (!) from Thornton's. I got a lovely "Mum" mug and a really sweet plaque with a poem on it from Francis. I'm going to put some of the money towards a new pair of trainers which I desperately need - my current pair are falling apart!

I'd wanted to go to Sefton Park, but the nice weather had disappeared and it looked like it might rain. Instead, we went into town so I could spend some of my gift vouchers, but I didn't see anything I wanted. This was not turning out to be a very successful day! We'd been round a couple of shops when Francis started getting hungry. After a brief stop-off in John Lewis to take advantage of their Parents Room to feed and change Francis, we went to the May Sum Chinese Buffet Restaurant, a place that never disappoints. It's not the kind of place to go for a romantic dinner for two, but the food is delicious and it's fantastic value for money. Francis slept through most of the meal, apart from a leaky nappy incident meaning an imprompu visit to the baby change facilities. Typical really - since Francis came home I've never been able to eat a meal in one sitting.

By the time we'd finished our meal it was after 5pm and all the shops were closed so we headed home. No sooner were we in the door than the heavens opened; we'd had a lucky escape! I had my first go on the Playstation 3 (we've downloaded a couple of really addictive puzzle games) and sent Graeme to the shop for a bottle of red wine. When Graeme came back, we put Night at the Museum on and cracked open the wine. Then Graeme brought me one last surprise - a Spider-Man birthday cake! Wine, Spidey-cake, a great film and even better company - my ideal night in!

All in all I had a wonderful day. It may not have been the most exciting of birthdays, but I spent it with the two most important people in my life and that alone made it my best birthday yet. Even if I am one step closer to 30.

Lisa xxx

Two Hospitals, One Day

Yesterday I took Francis for his usual weigh-in at the breastfeeding workshop at Liverpool Women's Hospital. I was already having a pretty crappy day. I'd overslept and had a mad dash trying to get to the hospital on time; I was more than a little flustered by the time I got there at around 12pm. I cheered up a bit after Francis was weighed though; he'd put on 1lb 2oz in 2 weeks, taking him to 6lb 8oz! I was extremely pleased with this so was more than a little puzzled when Kate told me that Francis' weight was dropping off the growth chart! How could a baby who has put on over a pound in 2 weeks not be gaining enough weight?

While Kate went off to see the consultant, I chatted with the other advisor and asked for some advice about Francis bringing up milk after feeds. Kate returned and was informed of the vomiting and felt that this could explain his "poor" weight gain. She went for another chat with the consultant and returned with some rather disturbing news.

The consultant felt that Francis should go to Alder Hey Children's Hospital to be checked out more thoroughly as the vomiting could be a sign of a urine infection and his lack of weight gain needed to be investigated. I was appalled and annoyed, but reluctantly agreed to take Francis to Alder Hey Accident and Emergency to be checked out. Unfortunately, I had to ring Graeme at work to come and pick us up as I had no idea how to get there on the bus or how long it would take me.

Once at Alder Hey we ended up parking as far from A&E as was humanly possible. It took a good 10 minutes to get from the car to A&E. After checking in at reception, Francis was seen by the triage nurse who did his observations - which were all perfect - and asked us the reasons for his referral. We were then told to go to another waiting area and wait to be called in by the doctors. No sooner had we sat down again, Francis was in dire need of a nappy change. The changing room in A&E was out of order, so I left the department to look for another one. True to Sods Law, Francis was called in as soon as I'd left!

We eventually got into the observation room where we waited to be seen by a doctor. By the time a doctor came over, Francis was screaming to be fed so the doctor left again so I could feed him. While feeding Francis, I overheard one of the nurses saying that Francis had been referred for failure to thrive! I couldn't believe my ears! Francis had put on a fantastic amount of weight, so how could he possibly not be thriving? Exactly how much weight did they expect a breastfed, premature baby to put on in 2 weeks?

After I'd finished feeding Francis the doctor came back over. I took Francis' growth chart out to show her and when I looked at it I realised Kate had made a mistake! She hadn't accounted for Francis' prematurity when she'd marked his weight on the graph! (Although Francis is 12 weeks old, his corrected age, taken from his due date, is only 3 weeks.) Kate had marked the graph at 12 weeks instead of 3 weeks; no wonder it looked as though he wasn't gaining enough! Once the doctor had put his weight in the correct place, it was obvious he was gaining weight quite nicely! The doctor then examined Francis and declared him perfectly healthy - not that I needed a medical professional to tell me that.

I had hoped that we'd be able to go home at this point when it was clear that it was all a mix-up, but they wanted to test Francis for a urine infection as the consultant had requested. So we were given a sample pot and waited for Francis to produce the goods. And waited. And waited. Francis was not playing ball and was getting increasingly upset. The doctor suggested that I feed Francis again to calm him and to hopefully fill his bladder up a bit more. After 45 minutes of this Francis peed enough for a sample. It was now after 4pm.

We were then told we had to see the registrar who had accepted the consultants referral. He was running a clinic so we had to wait yet again. It was almost 5pm by the time he arrived. After explaining Francis' history and reasons for referral, he agreed that it was all a mistake and that his weight gain was fine. Francis was examined yet again and was again declared perfectly healthy. His urine test came back clear so I was advised to give him Gaviscon for his vomiting. At 5:15pm, we were finally able to leave.

We got back to the car to find one of the tyres completely flat - the rotten icing on the extremely shitty cake of a day we'd already had. It was gone 6pm when we finally got home.

Now I'm all for better safe than sorry - having HELLP Syndrome taught me that you really can never be too cautious when it comes to health. If Francis genuinely had some worrying symptoms than needed to be checked out, then I really cannot fault how swiftly it was dealt with. However, in this case Francis was referred on the basis of a simple mistake. I just can't fathom out how Kate and the consultant didn't realise that 1lb 2oz is not poor weight gain and look at the bigger picture instead of relying on the growth chart. Still, I suppose it's easily done, but it did cause me a lot unnecessary worry, not to mention the inconvenience of spending all that time at hospital. As his Mum I knew there was nothing wrong with Francis, so I think i'll trust my own instincts next time.

Lisa xxx

Francis Gets An Upgrade

Today we went to Mothercare World in Aintree to buy Francis some new vests and sleepsuits. We were changing him into a clean outfit at some ungodly hour on Sunday morning after one of his regular post-feeding-puke-fests, when we noticed that his vest was a bit snug. Actually, it was a LOT snug - his shoulders were popping out of the neck. We also noticed that his feet now come all the way to the end of his 7 1/2lb sleepsuits. He doesn't weigh anywhere near 7 1/2lb, but he is quite a long baby - I have the feeling he's going to be tall!

On Sunday morning I dug out the 0-3 months clothes I had stockpiled long before he was born when I had foolishly believed I wouldn't need anything smaller. (You can guarantee if I'd stocked up on newborn clothes, Francis would have been 2 weeks overdue and weighed 10lb.) They were clearly still far too big for him. I realised it was time to spend yet more money - at nearly 3 months old, Francis is now ready for newborn-sized sleepsuits.

As luck would have it, Mothercare had a special offer on packs of sleepsuits and vests - buy one get one half price - so we stocked up. We also ventured into the toy department to get Francis a rattle. We bought a lovely giraffe-shaped one that straps on to his wrist (you can see it in the above photo). After spending the best part of £40 and negotiating the barrage of annoying older kids racing round on tricycles meant for toddlers, we made good our escape before I got my eye on anything else to add to Francis' ever-growing wardrobe. This kid has more clothes than I do, and that's saying something.

We got home and, after tea, put Francis in the bath, which he seemed to enjoy for a change. As you can see from the photo on the left, he wasn't overly impressed with his new Piglet vest. However, he calmed down once we put him in one of his new sleepsuits, which he dribbled on almost instantly and was sick on about an hour later. Money well spent then.

Lisa xxx

Lisa's Spider-Man 3 Experience

Today I finally went to see Spider-Man 3. After stashing a supply of expressed breastmilk in the fridge, I left Graeme to look after Francis and went to my first solo cinematic experience.

I'd prepared myself in advance for the possibility that Spider-Man's latest installment would be crap. Graeme went to see it a couple of weeks ago courtesy of his employers Sony and some of his colleagues had expressed their disappointment with it. I'd heard it was cheesy and cliched and a review on Rob's website was positively scathing. However, I'm not one to be easily disappointed when it comes to films about Superheroes - it would take a pretty serious piece of detritus to make me want my money back. (Think Batman & Robin - that was one dreadful film.)

In the end, Spider-man 3 turned out to be nowhere near as bad as I'd feared. I actually found it pretty good fun; the £5.50 I'd shelled out for a small popcorn and regular Pepsi almost seemed worth it. Yes, it was cheesy and cliched, but then superhero films generally are, and I thought this had significantly less cheese than the recent Superman Returns, which I really loved. Spider-Man 3 was surprisingly dark in parts, even on the verge of being depressing, and the level of violence allowed in 12A films will never cease to amaze me. The story was not as strong as in the previous films, but there were great villains (I actually found The Sandman quite scary), fantastic special effects and plenty of humour. My one criticism would be that they tried too cram too much into one film, but everything they did cram in was good stuff so I shall forgive Sam Raimi for that. All in all, it may not have been Ocsar-worthy, but it was certainly entertaining and will no doubt be a nice addition to my DVD collection in a few months time. Heck, I might even splash out and buy the Blu-Ray.

Lisa xxx