And then a baby (additional info)

Wow!  Just re-read my last blog post and realised all the bits I missed and things that make little sense.  Not beating myself up as wrote it in that insanity that is the first week post baby but thought I'd catch you up on some things:

1) The reason I mentioned the 'accidents' is because I think they were my labour indicators.  My body was just so over being pregnant it decided to stop.  I'm super glad.  I was over being pregnant, and knew the likelihood was that my baby was big enough (given my large measurements) to be born so feel no guilt about that.

2) I may have aided baby coming when it did if you believe in old wives tales.  I had been eating induction cookies.  In part because I found the recipe and it looked amazing.  In part because I really wanted the baby to come and I was over it.  The cookies were fucking amazing.  I shared them with friends and family.  Seriously, they are tasty.  I made mine slightly spicier than the recipe (a little extra cayenne) and they were fab.

And the night before I went into labour we did have Indian food.  This wasn't to hurry the baby, but merely because it was our four year Civil Unionersary and we wanted to do something nice, but cheap (cos poor) so picked one of those dealio website deals at the closest restaurant in the cuisine we liked most and went for it.  We ended up at a place called Shor Bazaar in Lynfield which looked nice from their website but on arrival were a bit terrified (sandwiched between a KFC, a TAB and a Wendy's) but OMG it was awesome!  Although the deal was for a regular course, we ended up ordering starters and desserts and ate all things we'd never tried before - which is an achievement as I used to work in Indian restaurants and love and eat a LOT of Indian food.  I didn't order a spice level any higher than I normally would as wanted to enjoy the meal.  And no, I don't think eating curry made me go into labour.

3) Yes, I had a drug free birth (besides Panadol taken earlier that day for hip pain) but believe me, I was begging for drugs - there was just no time!  I had started going into transition before we even left for the hospital (hence my urgency) and because everything happened so fast I was not well pleased.  Because I could get into the water fairly quickly once at hospital though, I soon felt ok without drugs as had gotten over the shock of being in labour and found my groove.

4) I didn't realise or know how much blood I'd lost until a few days after having Abby.  I did know I was lying in a pool of my own blood, but had no idea how normal/abnormal that was as had never had a vaginal delivery before.  And I couldn't actually see how much blood there was - I just knew it was there.  I later found out I was very close to the amount of blood loss where you have to sound all the bells and whistles and get the Drs and people into the room - I am so glad I did not.  It was very nice having just me, Murray and Vanessa (my brilliant Midwife) in our little, private feeling delivery suite feeling awesome.

The only ill effects I noticed from this blood loss was that I was a bit shaky when I did get up for a shower (a couple of hours after having Abby), and was having some difficulty breathing (like when I was anaemic).  Luckily, I had a bag of treats and a few fistfuls of chocolate coated raisins and a cup of tea remedied this fairly quickly.

5) Murray freaked out a bit when Abby was born because she didn't cry (like on TV).  She was fine - it was just because of the delayed cord clamping.  She was also extremely chill for her first couple of days on this earth, and still is (touch wood) most of the time.  Whilst Murray had discussed cutting the cord, in the end he decided not to having done it with Etta and found it a little 'barbaric' after his last experience cutting the cord in the C Section, which we all decided was fair enough.

6) Abby was eleven days early - a week later exactly than Etta who was eighteen days early.  Abby weighed 7lb 8oz - Etta weighed 6lb 15oz - so had they been born at similar times I think they would have been similar weights.  However, Abby was/is SO FAT.  Like, she looks as though you could poke her tummy and she'd pop like a balloon.  Stark contrast to Etta who was a very skinny wee thing.  Abby is also super tall.  51cm at birth, and now 52cm just over a week on.

7) While we would have loved to go to the Helensville Birthing Units from Waitakere unfortunately, the inn was full.  April is a very popular month to give birth, so I wasn't surprised.  Retrospectively, it was great coming straight home as injected some normalcy into this whole thing for Etta.  She only had one night without Mummy and her routines haven't changed.  We figure the easier we can make the transition for her the easier she will make it for us.

8) We took a couple of days to name Abby as when she was born none of the names we'd had seemed quite right.  We did end up going back to a name we'd had in mind - one that Murray had chosen - but after we'd gotten to know her a bit better.  While Etta made her personality clear from before birth, Abby has been a little quieter so we needed a little time to get to know her better.  And while people grow into their monikers, they do have them for life (unless they hate it so much they change it) so it's nice to at least try to get it right.

9) I am so lucky to have had the Midwife I had.  I am glad that I trusted her decisions even in times I was a little anxious about them.  I am so grateful that I laboured under the current system (midwives) rather than the system my Mum laboured under (GP's).  There is no way a GP could have had the level of knowledge Vanessa had to get me comfortably through my pregnancy, labour and these early days with a new baby.  We are so, so lucky to have this in New Zealand.  I do think it's all about finding the right person for you, so if you are not happy, or at all uncomfortable with your Midwife, and have time do shop around.  It will make a trying time so much easier if you have the support that works for you and a good relationship with those giving it.  Especially if you are looking at having a VBAC.

10) I cannot express enough the difference between my emergency C Section and this natural labour.  Again, while I wasn't at all upset or anything by Etta's delivery, Abby's was just so much simpler even if her delivery was in some ways more hands on.  Recovering from a natural birth - even with a small tear and difficult delivery - has been so much faster and simpler than recovering from my C Section.  And with a full on toddler I was so grateful to have the opportunity for a natural birth.  Again, I was very low risk to try for a VBAC, so this choice will not be best for everyone.

For me even had this labour had resulted in another emergency C Section I would have been glad to have tried as because I had done the 'labour' thing before, this time I felt more comfortable with it - I wasn't at all scared.  And while labour is 'labour' and hard and sore, I managed to get to that place they talk about in hypnobirthing - mostly because I knew I would be ok, and I knew this was only for a short period of my life.

While Abby was not in the best of positions (head funny angle, shoulders around the wrong way, cord over shoulder) she was not face first or posterior which made for a much easier delivery.  While I'm sure it would have been possible to birth Etta naturally, it would have been very difficult and traumatic for both of us to have done so.  And while I am glad to have managed a natural birth this time (mostly so I am able to look after my busy toddler easier) I am so grateful to have had the option of a C Section with Etta.

and then a Baby!

Excuse the bad photos - we totally forgot the camera with all the rush but here is our new, bigger family.

So after what felt like a really long pregnancy, but was actually not very long at all, we got to meet that very active person who was living inside me at 11.34pm on Friday night.

In the days preceding labour I had two accidents. 

Wednesday was the only day I had home alone with Etta.  That morning she had been quite tantrummy, so despite being sore decided it best for us both to venture out on the bus to Henderson.  This went very well until just before home time where I tripped backward over one of those electric cable pole things that was inconveniently sticking out of the footpath in a bus stop.  Thankfully I fell onto the cushion of my butt, and besides being embarrassed, shaken and glad the pram didn't roll into the busy thoroughfare, pretty much unscathed.*

On Thursday after hanging out some washing Etta (unsurprisingly) decided she wanted some more outside play time.  Me, not being someone who likes to waste time, decided I could maybe pull some of the overgrown grass off the footpath so Etta would stop injuring herself attempting to wade through that jungle.  I got a few pavers uncovered when I experienced some of the sharpest pain I ever randomly had. 

The whole of the left side of my abdomen was on fire - it hurt to walk and breathe.  I called my Midwife to check it out and it was just muscular, but still ridiculously sore.  I had a fun time coercing Etta into the safety of inside the house without picking her up (as couldn't) and then she pooed at exactly the least convenient moment ever - the most painful nappy change of my life.  I couldn't rest or get myself better so had Etta's Nana come and get her early (she was gonna hang with her later anyway as it was Murray and my 4th Civil Union Anniversary) so I could rest.  After 15 minutes of being able to actually sit down with a wheat pack on my side I felt like a fully functional human again.**  Which was great as meant we could go out and celebrate our anniversary with some amazingly good curry (and still be home for bed by 9pm).

Phew!  Then on Friday I just felt crampy and generally crappy.  But having felt like that many days over the last few weeks I didn't think anything of it.  Mum was over to help out with Etta and we had a pretty relaxed day.  We got another grocery shop done and had a little tidy.  I had home-made pizza premade in the freezer so we had that for dinner.  All was pretty normal really apart from having smashed my body in the two days before and being much more uncoordinated than usual.

Now before I share the nitty gritty of labour I want to preface it by saying:
1) I bitch and moan but I actually had a complications free pregnancy
2) I am generally (besides my guts and brain) a very healthy person
3) My last emergency C Section was due to baby's positioning
4) I have an extremely supportive Midwife that I have a great relationship with

What I'm trying to say is, I was really very low risk for anything going badly wrong with a VBAC.

Now I can continue.

Straight after large pizza dinner while sitting on the couch I felt and heard a 'pop'.  I was pretty sure my waters had broken, but after mad dash to the bathroom there was only a little discharge.  After a second little 'flow' thingee I put my incontinence pants on as knew something was up but wasn't really sure as it was completely different from the dam bust that was my waters with Etta.  Then the contractions started.

That was a shock.

With Etta I had a 17 hour labour which started with fairly mild contractions following my waters breaking (very obviously) - so I didn't experience strong contractions until after almost 7 hours of smaller ones building up.  This time it was just strong contractions lasting 1 - 2 minutes 3 - 5 minutes apart straight off the bat.  I got Murray to call our Midwife to let her know, and my Mum to come to our place.  This was for sure labour, and despite wanting to labour at home as long as possible, I felt we were pretty much there - this was more consistent than my contractions ever were when I was in labour with Etta.  Despite being advised to re-examine things when Mum arrived after half an hour I was like nope, hospital now.***

I was right.  We were 5cm dilated when we arrived at Waitakere and I was not happy.  I was begging for drugs but needed a little fetal monitoring before we could do anything.  The bath had been running before we got there and my fab Midwife did the monitoring and internal exam ASAP when we arrived and for as little time as possible - I think probably less than 20 minutes.  I didn't have an IV inserted - I didn't even think about it as was going into transition.  As soon as possible I hopped into the birthing pool (it wasn't full enough yet) and continued labouring there.

Oh dear lord I love birthing pools!  It took me a little bit, but I managed to get into a far more zen state than I had with Etta.  I just breathed through the contractions kneeling in the bath resting my chin on top of the bath and told myself this wouldn't take long - this wasn't forever and did the whole 'each contraction brings me closer to my baby' bollocks (secretly followed by the 'I just need to get through this and I won't be pregnant ever again' mantra).  And it helped.  I was seriously only in the pool about half an hour when I started feeling the urge to push and had the go ahead to go for it.

It would be lovely if I could tell you it was like all those labours where they're like 'and I did three big pushes and then we had a baby', but that wasn't the case.  The pushing part of this labour was as long as the previous part, so it was hard slog.  We pushed in the bath for about half an hour, then decided to move positions to see if we could get some more stuff going on.  So moved to the bed and did like a rested squat pushing thing.  This did get some movement happening, but again, it was slow, so then we moved into that awful position people are in in the movies.  This was initially uncomfortable, but was obviously progressing things so I just focused on the job at hand.

There was a period of worry.  With Etta we got to 'the corner' and she just kept slipping back.  When we got to that point this time it seemed like it might happen again - only it didn't.  While this baby slipped back a little both Murray and my Midwife reassured me pretty much every push was getting a little more traction which helped keep me on track.  My Midwife said we were so progressed this baby was going to be a vaginal delivery no matter what so I did what I could to make that happen.

It still took time.  It got to the point where I could see the baby's head too (via a mirror) and was so like 'it MUST be going to be some time in the next few pushes!' and it still wasn't.  Eventually it got to the point where the baby was out to the eyebrows and then team Murray/Midwife were like 'just give it all the weetbix you've got!' so I figured something might happen.

In the birthing videos and movies I've seen this is the part where the Mum gives a really epic screamy push and the head slowly pops out, and then the body kinda slithers out like a worm - so that's kinda what I thought would happen.  It didn't.  The baby's head came out on a slight angle, and then her shoulders were around the wrong way and her cord was looped over one shoulder and was being compressed.  So my Midwife did some serious crazy quick handwork (whilst also trying to keep a thumb on a vaginal tear that was just opening up and dealing with a woman with a head coming out of her vagina), which, while it took some time and was quite scary (and fucking sore) from where I was sitting was the magic that got us a healthy baby in the end.

So out she popped covered in vernix and slime and slopped onto my chest and promptly shat meconium everywhere.  She was soooo ugly!  She was quite battered from the birth with a fair few bruises and an actually black nose and very cold from the shoulder/cord issues.  We waited for the cord to stop pulsing, but were on a bit of a timer as my Midwife wanted the placenta out quickly as I was bleeding quite a bit and she wasn't sure how bad the tear I'd had was.  So we did have some delay on clamping, but then all systems go with an injection to bring out the placenta (like birthing a giant steak - simple compared to what came prior) so she could make sure I was ok.

I was.  I didn't need any stitches.  When I saw the bloodbath a while later I could understand the concern, and I could understand why Murray had moved to the head end of things.  He has subsequently said the manipulations required down there to get our new one born was the goriest thing he'd ever seen, and basically I have props for life for going through that.  I was fine though.  I had my new baby and was no longer pregnant and it only took about four hours to get through that whole thing!

And then we had some chill time in the delivery suite.  Because it was all so fast, none of the other hospital staff had any idea we'd even had a baby.  At some point out in the corridor we heard a nurse ask our Midwife how progressed I was, and she was like 'we had a baby about an hour ago'.  It was really nice.  Whilst I was totally happy with Etta's birth, this was a very different experience.  I guess it felt more personal - I don't really know how else to put it.  It was just us three (and our baby) for all the things you don't really want other people to see.  Nothing was medicalised.  I had one needle prick.  The only drugs I had had were Panadol, and within a couple of hours I was walking around and had a shower and peed and it was quite surreal.

I was home proper after about 13 hours after going in to hospital.

There is much more to say about this, but I will continue on another day.  Our toddler is playing with Mum outside in the sun, Murray's gone out to have some well deserved time to himself and our new little girl, Abby, is just waking up after a deliciously long nap.

*It did make my bad hip a bit worse, so from then until post labour I had a bit of a limp and was a bit sore.  

** The BIG difference between being pregnant with children, and being pregnant without.  The big difference between life with and without children in general!

*** Again, our fantastic neighbour saved the day as our stop gap.  Sooo lucky to have the neighbours we have.

38 weeks...

This is the most pregnant I've ever been and I truly wasn't expecting to make it this far.  Almost every day last week I kept thinking 'this will be the day!' after having been very sure I was having contractions last Monday night.  Well it turns out I wasn't and none of those days were.  I'm just in a constant state of Braxton Hicks and lower back pain that is only tempered by hot baths, wheat packs and bad TV.

This is so different from my first pregnancy.  Last time I had similar symptoms for three days and then my waters broke and (eventually) out came a baby.  I was glad to have a midwife friend tell me it's quite normal for subsequent pregnancies to experience the 'end of days' stuff for longer.  Since then I've pretty much acclimatised myself to just being mega pregnant for potentially a lot longer than expected.  And since I've done that I've started feeling much better about it.

So I have organised so I have some help with Etta almost every day as I am just not physically able to keep up with her.  My hips are really bad so I have difficulty moving and no longer find it easy to get to the bus stop to go for an outing.  I am tired all the time so I'm not the
Achieving great hairdressing feats whilst uberpreg

most fun parent in the world.  Basically a day at home with Mum involves kids TV or Minions and Daddy Gru, stories, playdough, blocks or drawing.  If I'm really energetic we'll kick a ball around in the hallway and have a pillow fight on the bed.  And Etta is way more of an outdoors kid than that so she gets frustrated, which is fair enough!   Hence queuing fun additional family members to take her out to the park, or ride her car up the driveway, or chase birds with.

She is also a bit more full on than usual because she knows that the baby is coming and she is scared.  She's very clingy and we've had some difficult bedtimes, nap-times and over-night-times as well as some EPIC tantrums.  Mum experienced one of her full force ones last week and was a little in shock.  A full on Etta tantrum can involve throwing, hitting, screaming, crying, smashing her head against stuff and can last up to an hour.  These happen due to any number of random things; closing a door, giving her the wrong spoon, turning Peppa Pig on, turning Peppa Pig off - usual story.  There is no comforting her until she is ready to be comforted and that can take time.  She is simultaneously interested in and angry at the baby.  She is keen to cuddle my tummy, and talk about where the baby goes in the new pram, and the bubba bed, but she has also tried to hit the baby because it makes Mummy sore.  We have a lot of quiet cuddle time at the moment.

I've also hit upon that awful thing that is constipation.  I managed to mostly avoid it last time, and had avoided it up until recently because (I think) of the iron injections keeping me super regular.  Now they've stopped (because my levels are much more normal thank you magic butt stab) so has any kind of 'regularity'.  I tried my usual home remedies - eating licorice and prunes and drinking an abundance of lemon water but alas, to no avail.  And when I went to find my laxatives I realised that in my effervescent cleaning spree I had gotten rid of all expired medications, of which these were one.  Thankfully, a friend came to my aid yesterday and dropped something off that has actually worked.  So I will be feeling better soon (but also very glad Etta is at her Nana and Poppa's today as I am currently a bit of a state).

On the positive side of the super pregnant fence, I am now so huge the baby has no room.  That means it cannot smash me full force in the vagina.  This is good because that really hurt and if it were still smashing me like that after a week of thinking it was going to be born, I think I'd lose my fucking mind.  I mean, the baby is still moving and looking like a creepy alien in there, but its head is not hitting my cervix, so I'm good with that.  High five to you baby.  I just hope you can still fit out the door when the party's over.

Because I'm still pregnant and at home I've got a few more of the around-the-house jobs done.  Not the biggest one yet (getting our shed into a less death trappy state) - and our garden is a total jungle, but I can live with that.  And I get an extra pre-baby grocery shop in that I wasn't expecting which means even more pantry preparedness.*  This all feels pretty great, but now I'm at a bit of a loose end.  Maybe I'll actually get some proper rest time in before the baby gets here?  Maybe I'll even knit something for the new baby?  How novel!

This extra time has also, due to a random combination of events, given rise to a new business idea.  A plausible, within-my-particular-skill-set-and-interests, completely new business idea.  So my brain is going a million miles a minute on that and it's all very exciting.  I won't have time or brain room to actually start working on it properly until the new baby is here and our family's sanity has stabilised, but it's something else to look forward to and to play with in the meantime - a new place to stretch my creative muscle.  Watch this space**!

So yeah... super pregnancy does suck but I'm over it sucking.  So I'm doing the thing now that I didn't really did last time - slowing down.  I am still doing the basic, menial jobs of life (dishes, washing, cooking), but I am also reading, writing, thinking and making and enjoying my last windows of total one-on-one time with Etta.  So maybe I won't go completely mental at 39 weeks?  Maybe in another week's time I'll be in a truly zen like state resulting in a fabulously straight forward labour with no complications?  Here's hoping! 

* Yeah, I know it's lame the things I get excited about - but it means another shop of exciting and strange tinned meals that I can select myself!  And I can try those crazy Indian box meals to see if I want more.  Oh, the excitement this brings to my week!
 
** You'll have to watch for a while - but trust me, it'll be worth it.  It's a fabulous plan if I do say so myself and I'm definitely going to give it a real shot.  For those of you who already know Murray and mine's current future business plans I must state this is not at all related.  Sadly we will not have enough capital or time to launch that particular plan for quite some time.  As in, that's the 10+-years-plan or the we've-won-Lotto-plan.  This is the sometime-in-the-next-year-Hannah's-additional-'baby'-more-for-the-love-than-the-money-plan.

On Why Being Critical of Dads is Bad for Feminism

 

Etta having quality 'Dad' time (in the picture to the right he has purposefully dressed her crazy to irk stupid strangers).

So I'm partly ranting because it's Friday, I'm still pregnant, and I want this baby out (drinking ALL the raspberry leaf tea).  And Murray has Etta, thus facilitating the ability to rant.  But I'm also ranting because this subject needs ranting about.

I am constantly surprised by how, as soon as you are obviously fruiting a new human, your life and how you live it, becomes public domain.  As soon as it becomes apparent you will be responsible for a life other than your own you have apparently opted in to becoming a public punching bag.  You have no idea how often I've held my tongue when I really wanted to horrify the general speaking public by saying things like:

'Yep.  I'm pregnant and I'm totally hammered.'
'It's fine, I'm adopting it out.'
'Fuck off you judgmental cunt.'*

As a now parent I kinda get it.  Hormones and experience combine to make you care more about children and the world they live in than in pre-sprog times.  News articles including kids can affect me emotionally.  Sometimes so much so that I friend and I once felt compelled to send flowers to a certain new Mum that was in a high profile court case.  And I am much friendlier to strangers with kids or who are obviously pregnant because I feel that weird affinity that parenthood creates.

But I also know how it feels to be judged on the tiniest things, and how, particularly as a new parent, the smallest comments could make me feel like I was being smashed in the face by a hammer.

And I am angered when I see other parents (or non parents) doing it to my partner.  Or when he tells me this has happened.  Because on most occasions the particular criticism attributed to him is something that a stranger would probably never say to me.  And because this unnecessary criticism happens often.  Which leads me to believe that New Zealanders have little faith in the parenting ability of Dads.

Now this is messed up.  Our particular living situation is of the old fashioned variety; I stay home (I work part time) while Murray goes out to a very grown up job and earns the dollars.  We live like this because since the recession his job and income have been more stable than mine, and consequently he earns much more than I do.  Me going to work is something of a token effort to support our family and Murray, but in truth I work mostly to get out of the house and maintain my sanity.

So Murray's time at home as a Dad is more limited than mine.  Because of travel logistics, he is out of the house around 11 hours a day Monday to Friday which means that he usually gets about 1 to 1 1/2 hours of Etta time a day.  Which is not a lot.  This is not our preference - this is just life.  This limited time means not much time for being a hands on Daddy during the week.  But for over a year now Murray has looked after Etta for at least one full day on the weekend every week, and a couple of weeknights while I work.  He is a great Dad and a very capable parent.  But, much like in the workplace, less time based experience with a particular job can affect your confidence in your ability to perform that particular job.  So working Dads like Murray can be vulnerable to criticism.

When Etta was first born, every word from strangers regarding my ability to care from her stung.  Even if meant well.  I had zero baby experience.  I had changed maybe three nappies in my life and none of the brown variety.  I had never dressed a baby and only twice held one under the age of about two weeks.  Babies terrified me.  At that stage Murray had much more experience in caregiving than I did having previously been a care worker for many years.  He had changed a LOT of (adult) nappies.  And due to my C Section, Murray actually did everything for Etta, besides breastfeed her, for the first week of her life.  And he did a great job.  So I was extremely insecure about my ability to parent.

I think at least some working Dads might feel similarly, purely because they have less of the day-to-day, one-on-one parenting time.  And to receive a bigger beat down on their ability to perform a job, one that they are probably performing perfectly well, sucks when all they are doing is caring for their offspring (you know, those tiny people they are equally responsible for).  Why would anyone want to be an involved parent if every little thing they do is viewed with public scrutiny?

See, I think it's fair that a member of the public say something if they encounter someone neglecting or injuring their child.  Like, if some kid was drowning in a fountain, or going into anaphylactic shock, or about to fall down an escalator, or being publicly whipped.  In those situations, it might be a good idea to say or do something.  However, the times the public have decided it necessary to verbally berate Murray's parenting skills have been predominantly about the following issues:

'Your child is not wearing enough clothes.'
'Your child is wearing too many clothes.'
'Your child is crying.'

I can't see how any of that information is particular helpful.  In the instance of today, it was apparently too hot for Etta to be wearing her hat - probably true.  But it's her 'monster' hat.  It is the first time she has ever shown any interest in wearing hats since she learned she could take them off.  She likes to wear it so it covers her eyes and pretends she's a monster.  It's fun.  And it solves a pending (Winter) dilemma.  Sure, anyone who does not know her will not be aware of this pertinent information.  But she wasn't dehydrated, or passing out, or even pink.  Why make any comment at all?

I think it's because the strangers think they are being 'helpful' to the Dad.  This assumption is extremely unhelpful.  It's the assumption that based purely on someones gender they are an unfit, or at least inexperienced, parent.  A friend told me that a stranger lady physically removed his son from his arms because he was crying.  Because she thought she would be better at handling the situation than he would.  To me it appears she assumed she was a more 'experienced' parent purely because of maybe her age, and because she didn't have a penis.  What she actually did was basically kidnapping, which in my mind is not something most 'experienced' parents (or sane persons) do.  It was extremely traumatic for both my friend and his son.
And she thought she was being helpful.

My gut feeling is also that maybe these strangers feel threatened by Dads.  It's like the bully in the workplace/playground scenario - finding minor fault with something to psyche out an opponent.  Are these stranger women scared of Dads?  Does seeing Dads be Dads remind them of how their Dads maybe weren't?  Or their partners?  Are they mad that their partners aren't more involved so take that anger out on unwitting stranger Dads?  Are they afraid they will lose their place in the world if  Dads are more involved parents?  Or do they think Dads being involved parents is inherently wrong?

What would actually be helpful for everyone would be if Dads were treated the same as Mums.  If it weren't assumed they were incompetent at parenting by dint of their cock.  If people didn't say 'Oh, your husband is such a great Dad' because they did an arbitrary parenting task without complaint.  If people assumed instead that Dads are quite capable of regular parenting tasks and it was normal for them to perform them.  If it were considered 'normal' to be a stay at home Dad.  If people didn't praise involved Dad parenting on the internet whilst assuming the worst of everyday mall Dads doing their thing.

I don't know if everyone quite understands this yet, but the whole point of Feminism is equality.  Equality is a balanced scale.  There are two sides to a scale.  In order for that scale to balance both sides need to weigh the same.  This means not only thinking about our actions/thoughts/words in terms of women, but also our actions/thoughts/words in terms of men.  For instance, if women want equity in the workplace, it means men need equity in the home.  The more equity men have at home (in a heterosexual model), the more support they can offer their partner to maintain their position in the workplace.  It's a two way street.  Until there is more governmental, financial and social support of Dads being valued on par with Mums as parents, we will not have equality.

And that sucks.  While I love being a stay at home parent and do think I'm the best at home option in our situation (because of mine and Murray's skill sets - nothing to do with boobs and dicks and bits) I wish there were more support for Murray as a parent out there in the world.  I wish that parental leave applied to both parents so both parents could get a handle on the most important job they'll ever have.  I wish there were change tables in all men's bathrooms.  I wish people didn't make fun of how Dads dress their kids**.

I don't wish these things solely because they will make my life better (although they would) but because they will make life better for our kids.  Imagine a world where kids could have two visible, involved parents without feeling different to their peers.  Where Dad's can look after their kids over the weekend (or even a Friday night) and not be considered 'pussy whipped' by their mates.
Imagine if it was ok to enjoy being a Dad?

* Just to make things clear, I've never been hammered when pregnant.  I'd just like to see the looks on judgy folks faces if I told them I was.  Like, you think it's bad I've decided to eat hummus and cheese? (even though unbeknownst to you I have researched this thoroughly and made an informed decision)  Well how about this?  BANG!  Foetal alcohol syndrome.  Suck on that rude stranger!

**I wish there wasn't some weird standard for that stuff in general.  We dress Etta in practical clothes that we can get onto her body with as little fuss as possible.  We dress her for play.  We do not dress her to colour co-ordinate outfits.  We dress her in things she likes.  We are great parents purely because we (mostly) get her to wear pants outside.  Because she hates pants and who can blame her?  If she had it her way she would be buck naked all year round.

Gift Ideas for the About-To-Burst or Folk-With-New-Tiny-Humans

In lieu of a baby shower I decided to have a high tea.  Fancy fun with the ladies.

And, of course bragging about making it to 37 weeks.

This is the big milestone as it means that unless anything is otherwise wrong with bubs or me we can attempt the whole labour thing in a way I like most.  I had a Midwife appointment today, and both she and I concurred this baby is big enough to survive on the outside.  I'm measuring stretched to my limit - there is no room left in this uterus.  Bubs is in perfect position for labour and I lost my mucosal plug on Friday night (I think?  It looked like last time, no bloody show, just jelly goo).  So it's all systems go, we're just waiting on the tiny human to make the call.

We've both agreed Friday will be the best day for said sprog to arrive - preferably in the evening because:
1) I want to rest today.  Etta is at her Nana and Poppa's so I can actually sleep and laze.
2) Tomorrow is Murray's Dad's birthday.  Let's not make everything a whole family spectacle.
3) Thursday is Lucy's birthday.  I love Lucy.  I don't want her to have to compete with a baby for birthday party dates/catch ups/time.  It's lame.
4) Friday will mean Murray gets another long weekend!
5) Friday my Midwife is available and, at this stage, not busy.  And she is awesome.  So I want her around me when this baby comes out.

She is so awesome she wrote that the baby will come on Friday on my appointment notes - just to further imprint this reality on my unborn child.  Best.  Midwife.  Ever.  Now do as instructed baby!

Today I was thinking of how different having a second child is to the first.  First time around I was very grateful to have a baby shower and to get educated about things babies need - cos I didn't know diddly.  This time I had High Tea instead of a baby shower.  We got to dress up as ladies and go to Waitakere Estate which has the most awesome retro decor.  And we ate lots of food and drank the bubbly wine and walked the grounds and got to be grown ups talking (mostly) non child things for a few hours.  It was brilliant.  Because this time around my house is FULL of baby things (most of which I understand the function of) and I really don't need much more.  And a break from these things where I put lipstick on is a rare event.

But I do know that some people want to be helpful during what is almost always a stressful time of change.  Or want to celebrate the pending new person so that they haven't missed out on the huzzah the first one got.  So I thought I'd make a list of what, in retrospect, the absolute best gifts for subsequent sprogs/parents of subsequent sprogs would be:

1) Newborn disposable nappies 
Now this won't be for everyone.  We are users of the cloth ourselves, but definitely in the first few weeks (ended up being 6 for us last time with the surprise Caesar and no lifting) disposables make life a lot simpler.  If you are unsure, check.  Parents go through these things like they do coffee, so are almost always in need over those first few weeks. And if they do end up with too many will likely pass them on to someone else in need.  It's the weird thing about becoming a parent - you instantly know a bazillion other people with babies or about to have babies.

2) Coffee 
I think the best present a soul could get Murray over the first few weeks of this newun would be a voucher or coffee card to his favourite coffee place.  Or just a text accompanying a dropped-off-in-the-letterbox-during-crazy-times coffee.  While this may not seem like the best 'family' gift I'd say you are mistaken.  Dad's being kept sane helps the entire family function better.  If Dad doesn't drink coffee, insert some other sanity making favourite here - like beef jerky or beer.

3) Meal type things
I must precursor this with a reminder that not everyone has a giant freezer.  While frozen meals will be fab for some, they may not be for all.  Our freezer is currently packed to the hilt, so while a meal would be much appreciated, it would not be super useful to us right now.  A frozen meal may be more helpful a few weeks down the line.  In lieu of this, meals that keep are also ace.  Like muesli bars (easy to eat whilst breastfeeding) or crazy tinned breakfast options.  If you want to be fancy, quiz your people on where they like to get takeaway foods from, and get them a voucher to said place.  Not always possible, but it's surprising how many places do provide this option.

And dinners are not the only meal.  New Mum's often forget to eat during the day as are so busy it just slips their mind.  And nutrition is important when you're breastfeeding, or not sleeping, or crying a lot, or all of the aforementioned.  So little, easy to grab, healthy foods can be helpful - fruit, muesli bars, jerky, nuts or muffins all make fantastic little thoughtful gifts.

4) Petrol Vouchers
Again, this may not be for all, but if anything goes wrong with the baby or Mum in the first little bit there will be a lot of extra trips into hospital which costs unexpected amounts.  This is also useful for people staying at birthing units out of town.  Or people who need to do more and more frequent late night pie runs.  So probably this is a good idea for many.

5) Babysitting vouchers
I have no idea how hard things are going to be with Etta once the newby arrives, but I imagine it's going to be pretty hard.  Etta currently knows something is up and is mega clingy.  So after bubs is born I will be trying to make sure she knows I still love her very much and not shipping her off to be babysat all the time.  Which will be hard.  So I wouldn't mind if after the first few weeks anyone could spend an hour to maybe sit with the newby so I can do something fun with her.  Just to keep things in check.  Not only will it be very helpful for us, but for those baby sniffers out there it gives you the opportunity to top up your new-baby-smell-memories.  And I'm sure there will be points where we both reach the end of our tether and a rest from our fabulous toddler will be in order.  I'm sure other parents will probably feel similar.

6) Cleaning vouchers
Now this is totally not something I'd want because of my weird anxieties BUT I've heard this is something of use to many normal parents - offer to do the vacuuming or some such thing.  Cleaning plus babies plus other kids = not a lot of time.  And kids = disproportionate amount of mess.  So this would be very helpful for many.  Just not me.

7) Nipple Cream and Bum Balm
As with everything, check to see if this is needed first, but these were things that got used a LOT and will likely need replacing.  I think this will be the same with a lot of families.  These are underestimated necessities.  While we seldom use bum balm with Etta these days it definitely helped both her bum and our patience in cleaning her bum in the early days.  And I can't speak more highly of nipple cream.  It seriously saved my breastfeeding life.  It is not weird to care for your friends nipple health - it is just a sensible way of being caring.

8) Maternity Pads
I know this is horribly boring and gross and not something to think about, but after babies are born ladies bleed.  A lot.  And maternity pads are expensive.  For some ladies this might only last a few weeks and be no big deal, but for me it was more like two months.  And Caesar or no Caesar - we bleed all the same.  For those who haven't had babies it's important to know we can't use tampons.  Not because they will fall out of the large tunnely empty socks that are now our vaginas, but because we are more inclined to infection.  If you want to upgrade on this gift for the early days get some of those big ass incontinence knickers.  I have been paranoid about my waters breaking and ruining my expensive mattress over the last few nights, and can say from experience they are extremely comfy.  And probably quite absorbent.  I haven't had to test that part yet.  All I know is it's hard to go back to regular undies after experiencing the comfort of Poise.

9) Pamper Vouchers
The best present anyone can ever get me (besides lollies, popsicle slushies and Instant Kiwis [the crossword ones are best]) is a massage voucher.  Not to an expensive, fancy type spa in Parnell, but to the mall ($35 for head, neck, shoulders and back and you can have your back done sitting up - handy when you are pregnant).  Mall massages are easily accessible and can be surprisingly good.  You just have to know who has the most magic hands in that particular part of the land.  My mother hates being touched by most humans - so if she had just had a baby there could be no worse present - although a voucher to get her hair did would be perfect.  Maybe you have some pampering skills yourself?  Why not form a babysitting/pamper duo with a friend to come to the rescue with child relief and foot rubs?  Or a manicure?  Or a sneaky glass of vino?  Or all of the above?  And chocolate.  Don't forget the chocolate.

10) A Cheese Sandwich
Immediately following having Etta this was the thing I wanted most in the world - and despite being gluten free at the time, when it was an option (via hospital menu) I took it.  I dropped sandwich on Etta's head.  I did not care.  It was the best damn sandwich I ever ate.*  Now take that feeling, and add to that a sandwich made with love and care by someone you know - not just random hospital staff.  Like, maybe with fresh bread, tasty cheese and a crunchy salad.  Oh.  My.  God.  Is there anything better?  So maybe just make a cheese sandwich to bring around some time.  Or the equivalent awesomeness for vegans or the allergy impaired.  Never underestimate the power of a sandwich.

* It must be noted I was horrendously ill after this, but that could have been from many things.  It's not always the sandwiches fault.

You are probably tired of these pregnancy updates by now, but...

There are only so many fat pregnancy/unborn child photos one can post.  So here's a pic of one we prepared earlier.  Special thanks to my cousin Charlotte for sending me this photo, and also to Alicia Khoo who is a brilliant wedding photographer.

Yay! 36 weeks!

So today was the sizing scan and birth plan day and it was all as good as could be expected.  Actually, even better!

The scan showed that we have a baby in there measuring about a week ahead.  That's cool.  That's pretty consistent with what our Midwife has been measuring via fundal height.  The baby's 'weight' (although I know this is probably total bollocks) is around 6lb 5oz - so if it were born now it'd probably be ok.  All the bits of the baby are in good working order - even the lungs are 'practice' breathing and the placenta is in a good place for labour.  The head is measuring slightly small which is excellent as far as my lady bits are concerned.  And I too have a small head, and I've turned out just fine.*

The best (and most random) part about the scan is that the radiologist told us we were having the opposite flavour baby than what we were told last time.  She then took it back but we don't know whether it was because she spoke too soon, or just because she freaked out for saying the opposite of what someone else had said.  We told her it was perfect, as despite my being so impatient and 'finding out' at the 20 week scan, we will now still kinda get a surprise baby.  We have no preference, we don't have gendered clothing - we just want a healthy baby so it's all good.

Then, as it was Etta's day at her Nana and Poppa's, Murray and I went to brunch.  It was excellent.  Then we played a board game.  I won.  That was also excellent.  Fabulous surprise midweek date-and-baby-planning day.

Then on to see our wonderful Midwife and go through the birth plan.

Basically, provided nothing goes heinously wrong I get to try to have my ideal birthing scenario.  So we'll be labouring at home until I deem it necessary to go into hospital.  When I arrive at hospital I will have fetal monitoring to check all is well with the baby.  Once that's done with and if there's a pool available and if there is no meconium or blood in the waters (if they have broken), I can have another go at water birthing.  We'll have subsequent monitoring if anything indicates we need it, otherwise it'll just be 'fun' pool time for me.  Fingers crossed the planets align for Plan A!

And if things do go a bit wrong, and I end up having to have another C Section all is not lost.  We have made plans for this eventuality too.  Thanks to a friend I read up on the 'natural C Section'.  Many of the things they suggest here also seem to be regular practice at Waitakere as they were definitely part of what happened when we had Etta.  However, there are a few other things from here I have stipulated as wanting if I am allowed - the biggest one for us being having the screen lowered so I can see the baby being born.  I didn't know I could potentially do this last time, and it was the only part of the birthing process I at all felt like I 'missed out' on.

And we've stipulated all our other wants and desires.  MUCH easier this time around having done it before and reading up on all the 'things'.  Most of what we're choosing to do is considered in the realm of 'natural' or 'hippy' - but we've just decided on things that make the most sense to us and statistically provide the best likely outcomes for our child.**

Because the scan showed a very healthy, happy, not-giant-but-smashy baby I am less convinced that I'll go into labour especially early.  Because this kid is obviously quite happy partying it up large in my uterus.  This is only gutting because from around the seven month mark this pregnancy has been quite painful.  By that, I mean being pregnant has me crying in pain most days.

I honestly think some of the Etta smash from the last labour has caused some scarring near my cervix, as every headbutt to the pelvis from this baby is excruciating.  And with it being a super active baby, headbutts are a frequent occurrence - particularly at night.  Etta's movements were sometimes uncomfortable, but never painful.  It's been difficult getting Murray, and anyone else who sees me in this pained state, to believe that nothing is actually wrong - it's just the baby moving and besides taking a bath, or moving my body into a certain position (kneeling on the floor resting my head and arms on the couch - not ideal for entertaining) there is not a lot I can do about it.  It impacts most of all on Etta, poor thing.  She is coping very well with everything considering.  The pain sucks, but hey, that's life.

So like last time I'm hanging in to get to the 37 week mark and then after that I'll be crossing my fingers every day that it'll be 'the day'.  My Midwife doesn't think I'll make full term because of my size, the baby's size and my previous history.  I hope she's right.  I think I'll labour somewhere between 38 and 39 weeks.  Only time will tell.  All I can say for sure is that if I make it past 39 weeks for your own safety, avoid our house like we have The Plague.  And maybe put some beer in the mailbox for Murray.  He will need it.

*                             *                            *                             *                            *

I don't know why I didn't post this when I wrote it on Tuesday - probably cos no photo or something and being an OTT perfectionist.  It's also been a very-tired-and-sore week and my brain is not properly braining.  Anyhoo, it's now Sunday (very confusing with the whole Easter Weekend extra holidays thing) and I still have my fingers crossed for 37 weeks (only two sleeps to go!)  Especially as over the last few days I've been experiencing a whole lot of pre-labour symptoms - a certain one of which has us on a clock of sorts so expecting bubs to turn up sometime in the next week (it could even be two weeks, although after this happened with Etta it was about three days).

So cross your fingers for us for the next 48 hours!  I will cross my legs...

* Feel free to argue this point.

** We're not totally out there.  We are pro Vitamin K but also pro delayed cord clamping.  I wish I had the stomach to eat the placenta because it is totally full of nutrients and a very good idea - but I don't and I know I just can't.  And  putting it into capsules seems almost counter intuitive to me.  So we'll be doing what we did with Etta's and taking it home to bury with a karakia and eventually eat it via whatever fruit grows from the tree planted above instead.