Our beautiful baby daughter Anabelle was born sleeping June 2010.
Blessed with the screaming arrivals of our gorgeous rainbow sons,
Alexander October 2011 and Zachary November 2013.
Expecting another rainbow August 2016.

Diary of an Angel Mother, Rainbow Mother.
Heartbreak. Joy. Death. Life. But most of all Love.

Wednesday, 18 May 2016

This Second Trimester

Today I am 27+2 weeks pregnant with our little Lucas Elias Morgan.

Yes, our little rainbow the third and last is indeed another little boy and I'm feeling increasingly excited about the prospect of our little trio of little boys. Excited and already exhausted at the thought of it! What a marvellous team they're going to make; the three Morgan musketeers as it were.  Xander, Zac and Luc. 

Lucas has taken us the longest to name out of all of the children. It turns out naming a third boy is pretty tricky and in the end we gave Alexander the choice between two names to decide what he would like to name his new brother, because we couldn't decide! Lucas or Elias with Henry originally planned to be his middle name. 

But Xander has other ideas. He was pretty adamant instantly that Elias was not in the running for a first name; as whichever way we asked him Lucas, and Luc for short was his answer. But then, he said, 'but Elias as well Mummy' - and that is where Henry was dropped and Elias was promoted to middle name. We think it has a lovely ring to it and we can't wait for Little Luc to join us on the outside now as soon as he is big and ready enough. 

After that week of feeling pushed over the edge after the gender mix up and not really knowing if we were coming or going with girl vs. boy, at the moment I'm feeling settled and really genuinely happy, especially since giving our son his identity. Our little very much loved Luc.  And thankfully so far, I've not been met with any ridiculous comments regarding our 'single' gender children family.  I'm looking forward to pulling little outfits out again that Alexander and Zachary wore when they were tiny and buying a few little summer outfits for Luc of his very own; after all the older boys were late autumn/winter babies and if we're lucky Lucas will arrive in the midst of a warm summer.

I'm not sure my last post about it all was very clear. Whilst I can't pretend there wasn't any element of 'gender preference' when we embarked on our last pregnancy, my reaction surrounding that week of mix  up was so much more to do with Anabelle and grief and loss than it was to do with who this little baby was.  And for a few days it was violent and ugly, again. We had a girl once upon time, and part of me had started to process, believe, that we were going to get that again. For a few days, when the 'girl' became a boy, all my grief for Belle was ripped to the forefront again, because the other 'girl' had never really existed in the first place, only Anabelle.

Believe me there have been many times I've questioned why we were putting ourselves through this again.  Jon certainly has. But after Zachary I didn't feel 'done'. I wanted another baby, boy or girl. I always wanted three children; and we had three children of course, but we didn't all at the same time. 

I wanted my three earth babies. I wanted three earth babies and we're still not there yet. But now I really do feel done. I don't want anymore babies and Little Luc, regardless of outcome, will be our last. Lucas is almost within touching distance now; but we're also hitting that time, in my pregnancies where everything gets more and more scary, where I'm likely to start unravelling, where anxiety that he might die is going to get the better of me time and time again. The longest of home stretches. 

Coupled with that his due-date is just days different to Anabelle's, so all those June milestones, the week she threatened prem labour, the week she died, the day she was born etc. They're all coming when I'll almost be exactly that amount of pregnant this time with Lucas. 

June is going to be, um, interesting. 

The pregnancy on the whole has been interesting though I guess! 

This is the last week of my second trimester. 

During the last 14 weeks I've had a surprise hospital stay in London because of pneumonia. Pneumonia took six weeks to really feel totally recovered from and a couple of courses of antibiotics to really see off the infection. We discovered at the end of my pregnancy with Zachary we had the beginnings of a small tear which has increased my tear and rupture risk for this pregnancy. The care plan changed for a slightly earlier birth for Lucas again.  

Nausea has been more or less continually ongoing - vomiting also - although I'm only sick maybe twice or thrice a week now, compared to daily, and nausea and sometimes resulting sickness is often a result of my stomach being too empty.  It is however the latest into a pregnancy I've continued being this sick. Thankfully, so far, heartburn has been mild and infrequent compared to the daily yuckiness  of it all from 13 weeks with Zac. 

Fatigue and tiredness has felt worse in this pregnancy that ever before; I can't decide whether it is because I'm in my 30s and 'older'  this time around (haha), my bout of being really poorly or being a busy Mother of two little boys already. It is probably a mixture of it all but have definitely been feeling the strain, especially on the days I've been working too. I'm a hopeless sack of sofa potatoes in the evenings! 

I think the biggest notable change in this pregnancy is the uncontrollable mood swings I've been experiencing the last couple of weeks. I have these moments of feeling completely overwhelmed by something and appear to be dealing with it in rage instead of a like a rational person!  I think Jon is feeling particularly long-suffering at the moment with it all. 

Otherwise Braxton Hicks have already started these last few weeks as well and boobs already leaking colostrum. Maybe everything starts earlier and earlier with each pregnancy?! 

Today I'm home from work following the sudden onset of pretty severe pelvic pain yesterday. It was shocking - one minute I felt totally fine and the next I could barely move my legs or walk for pain. It felt like it literally came out of nowhere. It was bad enough to reduce me to tears three times during the afternoon, including calling Jon home from work early. By the time the lower part of my bump started to feel uncomfortable in the later part of the afternoon too - yesterday evening we went in for a check up to be on the safe side considering the rupture risks too. (That we're becoming increasingly aware and anxious of as we hit third trimester now.) 

It was a relief that there doesn't appear to be any scar or tear issues but the Dr last night said it looks like I've been unlucky enough to get pelvic girdle pain this time around after never having it before. (Or maybe I've been incredibly lucky to escape pain like this until pregnancy number four?!) Of course I've had achy and uncomfortable pelvis, hips and legs in the evenings after busy days on all of them, but nothing like this. So today I'm resting, still finding it painful to move and hoping the flair up settles down. It will be a long 8-9 remaining weeks if it doesn't go away! 

But despite the aches, pains and worries I'm enjoying my growing bump. It is all out front and Jon tells me you still cannot tell I am pregnant from the back. Lucas is growing very well and is currently tracking around the 75th centile for fetal growth, estimated to be 2lb 5oz already at my scan last week. Which is good for him with an early birth planned. Unbelievably, despite what feels like my ample size, bump is measuring the 27 weeks it 'should' be. 

I really need to take more photographs before it is all over for the very last time. Even though I feel done and can't imagine putting us through this again I also can't believe this is the last time I'll carry and grow a baby, the last time I'll have a bump.  It seems to be going by so much more quickly so far this time, although I fully expect that to slow down during these critical last few months and weeks. 

Here we go then. 
Tuesday, 10 May 2016

Boy Big @ Four and a Half

Another six months on from his last update. This year of being four is absolutely flying - probably not helped by the fact that mere days after turning four Alexander was telling us he was nearly five now... and has continued to do so since! He is definitely fairly obsessed with ages now and seems in such a rush to grow up and be bigger, to be older; "I will be five next Mummy, then six, then seven, then eight, then nine, then ten, and that is very big Mummy..." and so on. 

But right now he is four and a half and full of attitude and confidence. He is totally sure of himself now and becoming increasingly assertive in all situations. Sometimes too much so; driving us to distraction with his stream of demands, challenging our requests of him alongside all of his "whhhhyyyys" and whats!   I can see so much of myself in him now - we're not sure if that is a good or a bad thing, but he is definitely his mother's mini-me when it comes to attitude!  

Four years olds are definitely hard work, but we wouldn't have it any other way! 

My beautiful four and a half year old Big. You are around 104cm tall and 39 pounds heavy. You are cheeky and determined and absolutely never stop talking! You are so obsessed with being big and getting bigger - constantly asking about your next birthday and telling us how old you will be, and then how old you will be on the birthday after even that!  I think you are quite big enough for now! 

This last few months we've realised more than ever how sensitive you can be to change or big events. On New Years Day your school burnt down; four months on it still affects you, you still mention the 'naughty men' that burnt your school down, you still talk about the fire, you still worry about other places being burnt down, you still say you miss your old school (and by that you mean classroom - you are still in the same school, with the same teacher, just in a demountable now), you mention often about the naughty men getting out of prison. We've seen it all in your play too. You've needed lots of gentle reassurance that nothing else will burn down. I hope the boys and men who did it one day realise the impact it had on so many small children.   On the lesser end of the scale we've recently changed the car, and two months on you're still telling us you miss your green car! I think it is fair to say you kind of like it when things are staying the same. 

But by the time you are five your world will have gone through enormous change once again. You will be an even bigger brother, the biggest of all the brothers with your new baby brother due to join us before you finish your nursery year.  I know at the moment you are beginning to feel the flutters of worry about having a new baby; wondering how you'll fit in with an extra brother, but we absolutely promise you that you will fit in just as always, just as before.  We already know you are really good at being a big brother and you will be fabulous; after all, you decided what name he should have! We can't wait to see you looking after the littlest of the Morgan boys too. 

At four and a half your favourite things are: Transformers Rescue Bots,  Lego and the iPad. 

Daddy loves that you love Transformers. They were his favourite when he was a little boy too! I think he secretly loves playing with the little robot transforming toys as much as you do! 

We love your imagination and creativity with your Lego Duplo now - you build the most fabulous creations - enormous and detailed houses, towers, farms and rockets amongst other things. You absolutely love visiting the Lego shop and ask to go as soon as you realise we're in Cardiff! When we're there you instantly go to find the miniature Lego people figures and 'little Lego' play boxes. But the trouble I have getting you, Daddy and Zachy out of the shop (!!) - you all have a shared love of Lego! I think you're almost ready for your own first set of 'little Lego' - maybe for your next birthday. 

You really do love technology aka. the iPad and we've found ourselves putting restrictions on screen time. Now mostly limited to weekend afternoons because of a) the more you have the iPad the more you seem to want it, b) the strops when we say iPad time is finished and c) the arguments it already causes between you and your brother when you are only 4 and 2! 

Oh and you also went through a youtube phase watching ridiculous Playdough or Kinder Egg toy videos - I totally do not get the fascination at all, but from what I can gather lots of children your age are fascinated with them! 

It has been wonderful recently to see you come on leaps and bounds at school. Your sudden interest in spelling your name and your family names - being able to write them down all by yourself. Becoming so interested in what sounds words begin with - randomly picking words off street signs and telling us what sound the word starts with. Beginning to blend your letter sounds to read your first sets of words.  You are becoming more and more interested in colouring and drawing - beginning to take your time over your mark-making and your drawings becoming more and more recognisable - just this week you've drawn your best creation yet - a beautiful dinosaur that Mummy is going to put on our art wall in the kitchen! 

You are totally starting to click recognising your numbers to 100, telling me what numbers you can see on buses when we're in the car or how much petrol I have left from the numbers on the dash. This week you have been learning about symmetry and pictograms in school and have loved telling me all about it on the way home in the car. 

You still love Welsh and often slip Welsh vocabulary into general conversation, for example asking us how we're feeling, or counting in Welsh, or referring to the colour of something in Welsh, and even starting to learn what your body parts are called in Welsh. 

You are blowing us away and seem more than ready for the challenges of full time school and starting Reception in September.  We love that you love school and love learning! 

You are still learning to swim - you've even graduated to the Wave 1 swimming class now, which means no Mummy in the pool with you. The class time changed for Aquatots meaning we couldn't get there in time, but your swimming teacher thought you were ready to have a go at Wave 1 class, even though you were still a whole year too young really and should've been five. You're doing brilliantly. It is what I call 'watch week' tomorrow - where parents can watch your lesson through the windows - and I can't wait to see what you can do since the last 'watch week' - I know your swimming teacher is really pleased with you at the moment because every week when we collect you she tells us how hard you are trying, especially re-finding the confidence to swim on your back again.  

We're in for a BIG time the next six months my boy; our family is growing and you're starting big all day school. Such enormous milestones for you and we couldn't be more proud of you, every day and always.   For now I will sign off, until you are five. 

We love you so much, our Rainbow Big. 

Sunday, 3 April 2016

A Turbulent Week

A week ago they told us baby looked like it was a girl. You can imagine that there was a day or two of denial, disbelief that we would actually get that chance to have another girl; just wanting to wait until it had been definitely confirmed by a consistent answer a week later at my next scan. 

And then inevitable excitement kicked in, allowing myself to build my hopes up, imagine all the things that have been missing from my life for nearly six years, girly things. Knowing what we would name her. Thinking about what I would do to the nursery. Tentatively dipping my toe into a bit of online window shopping and allowing myself to look at the girls clothes that I haven't been able to do for all these years. 

Then we didn't get that consistent answer. 

This week they told us baby looks like it is a boy. 

It has been a very turbulent few days for me. 

Mostly it has felt like an extremely cruel joke has been played at my very fragile expense.   

The over-riding emotion being anger. So angry. 

Angry that Belle was taken from us. Absolutely grief-stricken again for her, the girl, the daughter I had already had once upon a time and robbed from me. Deep and raw reopened wounds. Nearly six years already that wasn't supposed to be like this. Hurting beyond hurting. Once again thrown back to 2010. The year that ruined me and broke me in so many immeasurable ways.

Then so guilty, because believe me, more than anyone I know this gender malarky isn't really what is important. 

And feeling so foolish and stupid for entertaining the thought of a girl. I've never really believed we would get another one, I never thought it would work out like that for us and I should have known better than to get so sucked in to a hope and a wish again so quickly. 

I did know better before that scan nearly two weeks ago. I was totally ready and prepared for the answer to be another boy, despite everything else that meant. I could've managed the emotion around that, because before we tried to conceive this baby I of course knew neither gender was a guarantee and who it would be is who it would be. 

Then they said girl.

Then they didn't. 

And what I couldn't manage this week was the swing from one to another. I was totally unprepared for the answer to change after a week of making space in my head, anxiety increasing about a girl pregnancy and then building another imaginary life for a girl.  

So it has taken me a few days to adjust again. To settle again. To let all that hurt, emotion and anger out; wishing no-one had ever dangled the carrot of pink in-front of me, wishing the only answer I had ever heard was a boy. 

Because hearing only boy would've been ok. Wonderful. All the things I said in my previous post.  

To hear girl first, and then not, was cruel. I hadn't prepared for that. 

So right now we're still waiting on another scan for some sort of consistent answer. 

My gut tells me it will be a boy, of course, after all that is harder to mis-identify on a scan. But who knows, it was clearly hiding the week before and after this week of old wounds being well and truly being reopened I need another scan to tell me again to be sure.  

At least this week my husband finally gave some boy names some serious consideration and therefore either way now, this baby will have a name ready when we once and for all know who it is. A possible name has helped my head and heart calm down tremendously and today I can totally imagine my little trio of three wonderful boys, if that is indeed who it is. 

Watch this space. 
Tuesday, 22 March 2016

Who is this little baby going to be?

It seems pertinent tonight, the night before we hopefully find out the gender of our little baby, to re-share this post (please click the link).  

Pertinent because FB reminded me today that six years ago, on this day, that we found out that our first child was a daughter. Six years and a day later we're might find out who our final child is. 

And of course our feelings surrounding finding out feel somewhat chaotic - trying to determine what our emotional response will feel like either way. 

Knowing this baby is already who they were always meant to be, that they are who they are; explicitly already a huge part of this family. I'm left in no doubt that either way - a little boy or a little girl - will feel like they were always a part of us as soon as they arrive, just like Zachary did. Ours. Loved beyond measure and completing our family in its incompleteness. 

But tomorrow I could very well be facing the reality of all of my 'what ifs' in my post in October. If I am - I'm still none the wiser how I go about finally finding peace with it, grieving it and putting it to bed. Acceptance. 

I do know that regardless I will continue to love my life of raising boys. My wonderful boys. 

I do know I'll continue to feel robbed of my girl. Because I am robbed of my girl - even if we have another one. Robbed of Anabelle doesn't change.  There was a life with a daughter that was supposed to be. 

Tomorrow we hope we'll be announcing who our baby is.  Either way, boy or girl, please be mindful that each and either comes with all the complexities of grief attached too. 

A boy means we're never having a girl. We won't deny there won't be sadness attached to never having an earth girl. But we will also be excited! We'll have our little trio of boys - and I can really imagine Alexander and Zachary as a three!  A real band of brothers. It will be beautiful, even if I will be well and truly outnumbered.  (However for the first time ever we don't have a name ready at this stage if it is a boy, Jon is completely uninspired and vetoing all of my suggestions - this is making me twitch that we might have an unnamed child at this point in our pregnancy!) 

A girl is a whole other can of worms.  We will be undoubtedly excited. Another chance of pink in this family, another chance to experience raising a girl.  A biggest brother who is adamant he is getting a sister and that he wants a sister. Along with a whole concoction of emotion around girls in general,  the girl we should already have had. A daughter after a dead daughter - I'm not really sure how I go about those potential feelings yet either - how much I still have to deal with. We will be terrified in equal measure. After all my track record of successful girl pregnancies is zero.  (We do have a girls name though, so pleased to be at least sorted there if it is pink.) 

Tomorrow is a big important exciting day, either way, but please be mindful I might also feel over-sensitive to some things, whatever the gender for a while. 

Wednesday, 9 March 2016

Pneumonia and all that Jazz

What a month!

This is the first time in weeks I have felt remotely well enough to sit at the laptop long enough to record the saga that has been life! The Morgan's have been an ill bunch. We have been plagued between us with the usual concoction of winter germs; general coughs and colds for us all, a ear infection each for both boys, a bout of tonsillitis for Jon, and for me.... an horrendous cold that after a week turned into a pretty severe pneumonia infection. February 2016 completely written off. 

In London, no less. 

We had tickets for the Strictly Come Dancing tour at the O2 on Valentine's Day. The day before I had been feeling somewhat better; still full of cold, but not as yuck as the few days before that. So we decided to go, abandoning the idea of tubing into London for a shopping trip, but still making the show and still having our first overnight away in three years. Only the Saturday night I hardly slept, so Sunday morning got up feeling pretty low again. Keep going I thought, sleep in the car on the way down. Take a nap in the hotel before the show when we get there. 

We arrived around lunch time and I could barely face three or four mouthfuls of my dinner. I knew I was going downhill again. So I took some paracetamol and packed myself off to bed in the hotel room. I didn't sleep much, between coughing, feeling sick and an ever increasing chest pain. But still determined was I to make this show! We got to the show, feeling horrendous. Took more paracetamol. 

From what I remember the arena and the showmanship of Strictly was impressive - but the details of the show itself, I couldn't tell you. I sat there feeling more and more unwell through the first half, distracted by the pain in my chest, breathing becoming more erratic, heart getting faster and faster, totally unable to get comfortable. By mid-way through the second half I just wanted to get out of there. 

So we left early. Clinging to Jon fearing I was going to collapse. By this point the pain in my chest was unbearable, I couldn't breath properly and felt really quite frightened. Managed to get to the tube, Jon practicaly dragging me along and me feeling almost hysterical. It was one stop then a line change, then two stops to the hotel. We did the one stop, and I knew it was absolutely time for a Doctor. So back to the hotel was abandoned and instead we bundled into a taxi for the nearest A&E - and even at this point feeling worse and worse almost by the minute. 

A GP triaged us straight away on arrival, and within a few minutes I was through to their 'majors' section of the emergency department being hooked up to drips and machines, and poked with needles for whatever tests they were doing. My temperature was 39. something and my heart rate astronomical. I had initially thought my heart rate was around 155bmp on arrival (and that would've have been crazy enough) - Jon has told me since that actually it had been 177bpm at its fastest! 

After considering a blood clot verses a chest infection the Dr decided secondary infection was most likely given my weeks worth of nasty cold and temperature. So I was sent off for a chest x-ray which concluded, along with the through the roof infection markers in the blood results, that I had developed a severe pneumonia. 

Being pregnant meant limited ineffective pain-relief options at around 4.00am I caved and gladly took the Oramorph I was offered, knowing from previous experience it would make me woozy and sleep within minutes. I needed that break! 

I was admitted to the ward in unfamiliar surroundings, in London, not even knowing what hospital I was in for the first 24 hours. (I was in Newham University General Hospital). It is surprising how comforting the familiarity of your local hospital is should you need a hospital - it felt a very different experience being so far from home. 

So definitely not the London adventure we planned. Paying out for extra hotel room stays for Jon and myself as an inmate for three nights just waiting for the IV antibiotics to do some magic and to be well enough to travel home. Three long days away from the boys; the longest we have ever been apart. 

All in all February has been horrendous. I had no idea how long it could take to recover from pneumonia and have felt shocking for weeks. Just ill, low, continuously breathless and exhausted. After the initial antibiotics were completed I picked up a little for a few days only to get really low and feel really ill again a few days later. Another visit to the GP, another blood test with raised infection markers, another course of antibiotics and a pregnancy complicating recovery. It has felt never ending. 

That course of antibiotics finished at the weekend and the last few days I am feeling so much more well in myself, and generally brighter. I'm still feeling shattered and normal general stuff still feels an enormous effort; I'm definitely not back to normal, and my Dr has said I need to take everything slowly and easy for another good few weeks/month but hopefully the corner has been properly turned now and soon I'll feel back to my usual self. Well as usual self as you can feel getting increasingly pregnant anyway. 

Which brings me to that. 

Pregnancy seems to be progressing well so far, remarkably given my poor health - although that hasn't come without its surprises the last few weeks either. I finally saw my consultant (after an epic complaint I'm back under the care of my previous consultant, which is just as well given the new circumstances!), to receive feedback from my c-section with Zac that I really should have had at his birth; during the operation a small tear was discovered on my womb, threatening to rupture. How lucky were we that he was born when he was! Obviously this alters the care plan for this baby and he/she will now be born at 35 weeks - to reduce the risk of my womb over-stretching and tearing again. 

I'm still getting my head around it all to be honest. As if third trimester wasn't as stressful enough as it was. I'm really going to have to be careful as I get bigger and bigger this time. 

I was still feeling so unwell when I saw my consultant and so shocked that I hadn't been told (it really would've have altered our family planning decision had we known about the tear previously), and absorbing the 35 week birth plan with senior staff presence already on the notes, or earlier if I present with contractions as I have before, that at the appointment I didn't ask any questions about it.  I don't know what the monitoring plan is other than early birth, or what symptoms or signs we're looking out for.  We're seeing consultant again, together, on the 23rd March, so we'll be going with our list of questions then. 

As usual, I don't seem to do things by halves. This baby will arrive, all being well, mid-July. Which considering my mid-August due date seems incredibly early. It also means I'm already half way though. I do wish I was 'better' at being pregnant.  

Now if I could start feeling baby movements any day now that would be great too. 

So that's us. How has everyone else been?! 

Monday, 1 February 2016


2016; the year we're getting one bigger. 

Baby Morgan the 4th (and last!) is due to join us this summer. Of course it is a very long road until then with no guarantees, we know that, but at the moment we're feeling hopeful. Excited even. I'm so looking forward to a tiny little baby again and cautiously excited about having a summer baby, a summer baby that hopefully stays with us. This little ones due date is just a week after Belle's, which means I'm going to be hitting milestones at almost the same time as hers, meaning I'll be 32 weeks around her birthday. At the moment I can't predict how that is going to affect me during June, for Anabelle's birthday or the pregnancy, at the moment I'm trying to think brave. 

But brave is becoming harder as the care I had with the boys has not been forthcoming so far on this pregnancy. I'm feeling increasingly angry about the situation. The suite at the hospital and consultant that saw our two boys here safely seem to have washed their hands of me. On ringing them to tell them I was expecting again I was met with the news of some sort of 'department restructure' and that my consultant would no longer be my consultant and my notes would be handed over to whoever the new one would be. They couldn't give me the name of that new consultant or even when I would be seen by them, just that I would 'have to wait for an appointment through antenatal clinic'. Considering I was seen at 6 weeks for an initial meet and early care plan for both of the boys I've been struggling quite a lot with this change of care; feeling quite foolish that I presumed my continuity of care on Llanfoist with Miss Rich would continue.  

I've now had my dating scan in normal antenatal clinic and still have not heard from my new consultant, still have no name of my new consultant. Just that this nameless and faceless consultant will be reviewing my notes and the midwives have left notes on my file that I wish to be seen as soon as possible. As far as I'm concerned this is unacceptable. How am I supposed to trust the judgement of a consultant I know nothing about thus far?! Not to mention that I'm going into the second trimester with no care plan in place, which means I can only presume at the moment that the care I've had in second trimester; the swabs, extra doppler scans, extra checks, will not be happening. 

At the moment I'm not feeling particularly safe for the long run. I hope my fears will be unfounded and when I finally meet my new consultant they will be lovely and put in place the care plan that I had for both boys without question. But at the moment I'm feeling very much low priority, and that Llanfoist have abandoned me because I now have two living children.  But this new baby matters just as much, this new baby as far as I'm concerned is at as equal risk of dying as the boys were, needs as much monitoring because no-one knows why Anabelle died - whatever apparently randomly killed her, could kill this baby - and because it is blatantly obvious from even a quick scan of my notes that my mental health as this pregnancy progresses will need as much monitoring, reassurance and support as before. While I accept there is no medical reason for extra care at these early stages the practice of pulling the carpet from beneath my feet and leaving me feeling vulnerable stinks. I shouldn't have to fight for continuity of care or identical care to previous pregnancies. 

I'm on the verge of officially complaining.  

The first trimester has seen sickness both nausea and vomiting, especially in the early morning and late evening and constant waves of nausea and occasional sickness during the day. If I was going to rate it I would say probably joint second; Zachary being the worst, Anabelle and this one jostling for second and third place depending on what sort of day I've had and Alexander of course being the easiest regarding the sickness for the lot! At 12 weeks I'm already adopting the pregnant shape and a definite little bump is appearing; now if only I could find my maternity clothes! 

This one has seen a whole new set of symptoms that I don't really remember having with any of the others, a few weeks of a metallic taste in my mouth and hugely sore boobs on a level I've not known in early pregnancy before. But the biggest difference I think on this pregnancy is how tired I am - of course I've felt tired in previous pregnancies, but this isn't in a 'the boys have run me ragged' or a busy day type tired, but like my body is absolutely physically exhausted and times when I literally cannot keep my eyes open - the house is currently going to rack and ruin, I'm permanently behind on the chores because I cannot find the energy to do anything after the boys are in bed; and there has been lots of nodding off on the sofa, in the car and going to bed earlier and earlier. 

At 9.10pm this is becoming a late night for me tonight! 

Now does anyone want to play the nub theory game? 

Saturday, 9 January 2016

My Rainbow Small is TWO!

My beautiful baby boy is two.

On Friday he was two years, six weeks and a day old; exactly the age his big brother was the day Small was born.  I can’t really believe it – it is a weird feeling knowing that I had a newborn when my previous toddler was this age!  Xander seemed different at this age somehow, older, less baby like. Maybe this is because he was the only one here and I had no-one to compare him to, but  either way Zachary still feels like my Small. My baby; still so young in so many of his ways – often still content to play led on his back with his feet in the air on the carpet!

Zac continues to be cheeky and feisty and determined. Once he has set his mind on something there is little hope of deterring him – even when you think you have distracted him with something else – he doesn’t forget, and within minutes is back aiming to do whatever it is that he wants to do! Of course this means we’ve seen some ‘terrible two’ tantrums like we never saw with Alexander! Zachary really is a different kettle of fish!

He is a happy, adventurous and mischievous little boy. Zachary loves a joke now, he loves to run off in the opposite direction and have you chase him, giggling to himself as he goes, he loves to run and hide and play boo, he loves to tickle and rough and tumble.  He absolutely adores chasing his big brother around the house and playing rough and tumble games with him! Zachy, is as often the ring-leader of some mischief, as Xander!

Zachary and I gave up feeding just shy of 23 months. I felt so much more emotional than I had when Xander and I stopped, although I can’t really explain why; maybe because it had gone on so much longer and had been so easy right from the start.  The 18 month upper limit went well and truly out of the window because Zac had showed all the signs of still needing that connection and comfort – and so there felt no real reason to stop. But I knew when the time was right, over a few weeks he was spending shorter and shorter time feeding before going into his cot for bed, so it felt like the right  and gentle time for us both to swap to bottles. Thankfully the transition was easy and painless for us both, but still now a couple of times a week he pulls at my top and says milk, not really seriously asking I don’t think, and he accepts that milk is 'all gone' straight away, especially as the weeks have gone on. Now I think it is more about that he is making a statement that he remembers - it amazes me that he continues to remember that time we had together 3 months on.

He is a delight.

My darling Zachary, today you are two years, six weeks and two days old.

A fully fledged toddler now. On your birthday you were 83cm tall and 24lb (although I know you have grown a little bit and put on a bit more weight since then, as we had your two year check this week!), still my small; still only tracking between the 9th/25th centile for height and the 25th centile for weight.  Like the health visitor said this week – it doesn’t look like you’re ever going to be six foot and appear to have inherited Mummy’s genes for size!  Your Small nickname suits you!

At two years old you love books. Your favourite for such a long time was ‘What the Ladybird Heard’ and you could tell me all the noises that the animals on the farm said – more recently over Christmas this favourite seems to have changed to ‘Stickman’. Another Julia Donaldson fan in the making!  

You love colouring in and often ask to ‘cuger’.  You also love to paint. You are such a creative little boy and are so excited to have your hands and feet painted to do prints. You love glue and sticking.

Ironically though, for a little boy who loves to paint if anything else messy is on your hands you shout ‘uh uh uh’ at me with your hand in the air until I’ve got a wet wipe and wiped the speck of whatever it is off – you do not like having dirt on your hands.

You love puzzles and cars and dinosaurs and still love Peppa Pig. We have the cutest video of you dinosaur roaring just like George from Peppa from back in the summer holidays the day after we had taken you to Peppa Pig World – what a wonderful time you had and have since had the best time at your Peppa Pig themed birthday party too.  


More recently you have discovered In The Night Garden and have a ‘must take everywhere’ companion now in your Iggle Piggle cuddly toy. If you’re lucky we’ll get tickets to the live show in the summer and hopefully you’ll get to meet your real life friend.

You love singing and dancing and bop away to lots of different tunes. You are such a joy to watch and my favourite time of the week with you is Tuesday mornings when we go to Happy Hands music class. You are so confident joining in. Often now you ask Mummy to sing you a song and join in with me with your own singing and actions; your favourites have been Horsey Horsey, Twinkle Twinkle, Wheels On The Bus, Row Row Boat and Baa Baa Black Sheep.

I’ve lost count of all the things you can say now and it doesn’t matter what you can’t say yet because you understand everything!  You are joining lots of words together and often saying three word sentences now. You have such an ever expanding vocabulary – including of course the frequently used word ‘MINE’ – you my little one have some serious personal space issues!

Sharing at two is never going to be your forte, (although your sharing skills could also be a lot worse), your main issue is not liking other children getting too close to you when you are engrossed with a toy. I find that if you start playing with a set of something with someone else at the same time you can tolerate their presence, e.g. the toy kitchen, or duplo, or cars, but if they try to join you after the fact then you push away to keep them at arms length.  Taking turns is something we’re doing lots of work on at the moment!

You are so clever Zachy. Already you know a few shapes such as circle, star and triangle and are doing puzzles designed for much older children with minimal help. You love imitating counting, and get your pointy finger ready to touch count things in books or your toys. You are beginning to recite the order of the numbers (sometimes skipping a few) if we start you off on one. Remarkably you also already seem to recognise what a number ‘looks like’, because if you see one written down you tell me it is ‘six’ –  six is your favourite! It usually isn’t six, but you already seem to be able to distinguish that numbers and numerals mean something as symbols. You don’t know the names of the colours yet (apart from everything is blue, so you know blue is a colour, but not what blue is!) but you are colour matching and quite deliberately finding matching colour bricks when building with your duplo. We’re playing lots of colour games at the moment to help you with colour names and recognition. All of a sudden there seems to be this burst of brain activity from you and I can’t wait to see what you know by the time you are two and a half!

You are our wonderful beautiful boy 
and we couldn’t love you more.

Keep keeping us on our toes little man.

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I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander and Zac. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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