Catching Up

I'm back! I haven't posted since Valentines day and a LOT has gone down since then friends. A lot. Good and bad but all pretty huge. I am not sure I am ready to go into depth about all of it but let me at least try and summarise so that when I do elaborate you know what I am on about.

Well the biggest thing, as I'm sure you know if you follow me on Twitter or FB or indeed in real life is that we had the baby! A girl! Harriet was born on March 7th at 23:23 and came out a whopping 10lbs! It's no wonder I could hardly walk by the end!

Here she is in all her pink glory.

Cute no? Well I think so!

The birth was amazing. I don't think I ever got round to telling you guys Will's birth story but it was a long, rough ride. This time, however, I was all kinds of in control and had my dream drug free natural birth. Not even gas and air. Can I get a whoooooooooooop whoooooooooop???!

So, as you can imagine, I was left on a pretty large high afterwards. I was (and still am) very, very proud of myself.

And then came the crash. Harriet has failed her newborn hearing screening. This doesn't necessarily mean that she is deaf, it could be fluid etc but I heard all those excuses with Will and believed them for months making the crushing truth even harder to hear. So this time I am trying to accept what looks like the inevitable from the start. To add to this we got some results of genetic testing confirming that Will's hearing loss is indeed a result of a genetic syndrome. Enter a whole HEAP of messed up emotions and guilt on top of my fluctuating i just gave birth hormones. Yeah, the crash was big, the birth long forgotten.

For now, things seem to have levelled out and I have stopped randomly bursting into tears (this is not true, but now the tears are about how unbelievable tired I am or knocking over a cup of tea, not about how I have ruined my children's lives). This week was the first week I looked after both kids on my own and truth be told it was much easier that when Daddy was at home or when my Mum was staying. I don't know why but it has been. Of course now Will has a bug and is poorly making it especially hard to divide my attention but why would our lives be simple or God forbid easy? It's just not so.

Get on your dancing shoes...or socks at least

So, as I'm sure you'll already know from my previous two posts about the doctors and his blood tests, my son is pretty freaking awesome.

What you won't already know is that he got his Mummy's moves. And for a deaf kid, it's quite an achievement to appreciate music at all, let alone with grooves like this.

And if you are wondering, yes I do dance and clean at the same time. And yes, I do it in my undies.

There are some things only a mother can teach you.

The greenest of monsters

Jealousy.

Once upon a time a good friend of mine (she doesn't look like that) said to me 'Envy is wanting what someone else has, jealousy is not wanting them to have it'

I have been thinking a lot about both recently, fueled by this post here, which I feel has blurred the line between the two. But it's about something I know nothing about. Here's what I do know about.

I suffer from what is, based on the above, a big old case of envy. Ever since I found out that William was deaf I have looked at all the people around me having children and wondered why they 'got off'. Why it had to be my baby that got the duff gene out of nowhere. Why my baby has a harder life than theirs. Why they get to moan about sleepless nights and weaning and laundry while I sit on the floor rocking, wishing that these were the only things I had to worry about. Why do my friends get to fret about their perfectly normal children going to school, making friends and coping with the change when I, already, worry about my child going to school and being able to talk.  

But not once, not ever, not for one portion of a second, have I ever, ever wished that these people had deaf children. Or that their children had any kind of disability at all. Or that they didn't have their wonderful, non disabled children.

I am envious that they don't have to deal with what I have to deal with. But I am not jealous of their 'normality'. I would not for one second wish this heartache on anyone.

But that doesn't stop me from wishing it was different sometimes. For me. Not for anyone else.

I'm linking up with lovelinks for the first time...come join me!

A disappointment

When William was 6 months old we went for the first time to what is officially called 'Toddler Group'. In our house it is called 'Deaf playgroup'. Because that's what it is. Playgroup for deaf kids, kids with hearing aids, and cochlear implants. Kids who communicate through sign language.

It was hard. I didn't want to be there, I didn't want a deaf kid. I didn't want to learn sign language, I didn't want my kid to have to. I didn't want to hear what the other Mums had to say. I wasn't interested in how it was going to get better, how successful their kids were, how 'normal' life could, in fact, be.

But we persevered. And it did get better. And William did achieve and develop. And life does, more often than not, have a semblance of normality about it. There was one Mum in particular that helped me a lot. That very first day, she was the only one who talked to me. She asked how I felt, how my partner felt, my parents, his parents. She discussed tests with me, told me her story. She made me feel welcome and comfortable and most importantly, she made me realise that life goes on. That this wasn't the end.

And deaf playgroup became a wonderful thing. It was first thing on a Monday morning, it got us up and out the house. It was a 30 minute walk so it got me exercising and in the fresh air. William adored being there and socialising with the other children. For a long time Monday afternoons were the only day he would nap for 2 hours. It was part of our routine and we loved it.

And then the Government had to make cuts. The NHS had to make cuts. Playgroup is every other week now, somewhere new. On paper it's just a different children's centre in a different area, fortnightly instead of weekly.

To us, it is now two buses or a 20 minute walk and then a bus to get there. It takes 50 minutes.
The room it is in is upstairs. I have to leave my pushchair outside, even in the rain. I have to carry our bags and William up 2 flights of stairs.
The room is much smaller. Today there were 6 children, all William's age and it was crowded.
There are leaflets at a reachable level so the kids can pull them off and get in trouble for it.
There is no kitchen to make a cup of tea, just a shelf for the juice that again the kids can reach and again get in trouble for spilling.
It's on every other Tuesday, so if you miss one week, it's a whole month between playgroups.

These all might sounds silly or small. But they make it harder. And combined they make it hardly worth my while. I am pregnant and tired, if I am going to travel 50 minutes somewhere and the same home, it has to be worth it. And today just made me feel like it no longer is. Which is a real shame because it used to be the highlight of our week. And I really would have liked to have given the support that Mum gave me to another Mum with a newly diagnosed deaf baby.

Have budget cuts affected you and your family? How does it make you feel?

He understands!

Communication with children is tricky. You can never be sure if they can hear you or if they are ignoring you or if they just don't understand you. Communication with William is trickier. More often than not he cannot hear you and so is always 'ignoring' you and is a long way from understanding you, words at least (his communication through Sign Language is coming on wonderfully).

So this week we had a breakthrough. I had a friend visit with her 6 month old son. We had been home all day, Will was bored which turned into manic as soon as they arrived. He ran around, showing off, being loud and aggressive (you know the usual cabin fever score). Anyway, this culminated in him hitting the baby hard on the head with a toy. The poor baby cried very loudly and his Mummy picked him up and gave him a cuddle and he soon settled but William was obviously disturbed by the consequences of his actions. He looked over in mortification and I said to him 'go and give him a cuddle and say sorry'. And that's just what he did. He got up off of my lap, walked over to the baby and put his arms around him. Broke. My. Heart.

Now I'm not sure if he heard me - he has been wearing his hearing aids pretty much all day since we turned that corner recently - and understood my words.
Or if he understood the situation and transferred his knowledge that Mummy and Daddy cuddle him when he cries so that's what he had to do here.

Either way it shows that he is growing up, and he understood something and acted on it and that is a big step for us. Exciting!

How to be a WOMAN

If you haven't read 'How to be a woman' by Caitlin Moran, then you should. She manages to perfectly articulate my feelings on motherhood as well as a number of other feminist issues. I have spent my whole time reading it going 'Ha ha, sooooo funny. But seriously. Nail. On. Head'.

Anyway, it has got me thinking a little deeper about the parts of being a woman I am uncomfortable with and I wanted to share them with you.

• This housewife business.

We recently got a cleaner. O M G the guilt I feel. We didn't have a cleaner when I was growing up. My Mum worked full time, raised two kids, did EVERYTHING for my Dad (we are talking 1920s style breakfast on table, packed lunch made, dinner ready upon homecoming) and still managed to keep our house immaculate. And NEVER complained. So when Shaun and I both worked full time and he wanted a cleaner I said 'No, my Mum never had a cleaner'. And when we had Will I said 'No, my Mum worked and never had a cleaner'. And then I fell pregnant again and was pretty sure no-one had ever, ever been as tired as I felt. So we got a cleaner. Once a week she comes and makes my house immaculate for me. Cleaner than it ever was when it was my job! And it has changed my world. I am on top of the laundry for the first time since Will came along. I have more time to play with him and I enjoy that time because I am not thinking about what I could be doing instead. I nap when he naps and so the fetus is feeling the benefit too.

But jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezzz I hate myself for it. My sister said 'do you really need a cleaner if you don't work?'. Now she doesn't have children so she doesn't understand how much work not working is. But I can't help but feel she has a point. I mean, I am at home all day. How can I possibly not have the time to clean?

• This marriage business

Now as you probably know from my smug post, Shaun and I are engaged. Betrothed. To be married. Why are you not married already? I hear you cry. Well, we wanted children. Marriage was just a box that people ticked; we didn't really see the point and we were keen to start trying for our family just in case it took a while. We were very lucky and it didn't so here we are with a 15 month old and a baby on the way.
Now, I always loved the idea of a wedding. Being the centre of attention. Wearing the beautiful dress. Having the stunning cake. Dancing the night away, high on pure love. But the marriage part of it I didn't get. A piece of paper (an expensive one at that). A religious ceremony (we don't believe in God). A commitment (we have A CHILD, if he isn't committed to me already then we are in trouble). Proving to other people or our children that we are committed (In the nicest possible way, I have NOTHING to prove to any of you).

But then I had Will. And I wanted the marriage part of it. And then we found out he was partially deaf. And I needed that extra something from Shaun. As any parent will tell you, the first few months of your first new born baby's life puts your relationship through the biggest challenges. I don't know if having a disabled child is any harder than a normal one but I can tell you that those first few months both brought Shaun and I together and pushed us apart in ways I didn't think possible. Then we lost our second pregnancy in a miscarriage. In the midst of the physical pain and the emotional anguish, all I could think was 'I want to get married, I need to know Shaun will love me through this'.

Now this annoys me. Because my rational head is screaming 'but there is NO POINT. You KNOW he loves you. You KNOW he wants to be together forever. You KNOW getting married won't change that' but my stupid emotional head is crying back 'But I waaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnt toooooooooooo'.

Also, a big old piece of beef I have with the marriage thing, is

• This proposal business

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my diamond ring. And I LOVE regaling the story of how Shaun proposed on the beach, sun shining, down on one knee, ra ra ra. What gets me is that it was HIS choice. Before we had children I asked him to marry me. I'm still not sure if I was serious or not, I just wanted to see what he would say. He said no, I want to propose. It was really important for him to propose and to do it right which I get but I don't get why? Why has he been made to feel (by society, culture, tradition...) that it is his role to ask me. He knows I wanted to get married, he knows I know he wants to get married. So why couldn't we just decide to get married? Why does he have the POWER? Why, as a woman, did I just have to wait? 

I have no answers, just more questions.

What do you think about it all? Are you comfortable with your role as a woman, whatever that may be?