Well we finally made it to week 6! The bird feeder however did not… it broke. Not had the brain power to fix it.

Tiny kiddo is finally catching up with birth weight… a little slow grower.

Starting to process the birth a bit more. I will definitely have to book in an appointment to go over everything I don’t have the energy to process it completely right now. There’s not enough sleep going to deal with it.

Baby is smiling now. So that’s progress.

Haven’t done any writing yet, there is hope my brain will kick in.

Hubs kindly brought me a brain training game for Christmas so maybe it will perform some kind of magic and transform my brain from mush to less mush.

My tired self is off to get some rest now.

I think, and I know this is probably jinxing it, that we have hit a rhythm.

It kind of goes, baby eats poops eats poops eats poops and sleep is thrown all over that.

Sarcasm aside, seems to be a good baby if that’s a thing?

I don’t know, I am just tired at this point. I think I will definitely need some physio with how my recovery is going related to the c sec but that was always a likelihood considering I was already at physio for PGP (pelvic girdle pain) before the birth.

Baby is now past the birth weight which is great, starting to grow like a little weed.

In other news we stuck a bird feeder in the garden and the starlings seem very happy with that. The neighbours cat possibly might be happy about that too.

Yawning too much now. Over and out.

Well, Kiddo 2 it turns out was born at 25th centile but did what all babies do and dropped down to the 9th. So much for having an 88th ish centile kiddo… smaller than kiddo 1 at the start but we will see how they grow.

That aside. New born life after 6 years is absolutely wild, I’ve forgotten more than I learned and its like swimming fresh again in a torrent of what the hell is this.

Don’t get me wrong I am one proud mum. But the tired is real!

I am barely stringing this together to write through a haze of what the hell is this and taking the piss out of myself.

Still not allowing visitors but that is more for my own peace of mind at this point.

The original birth plan was up in the air for a long while, I was very 50/50 on whether I would do a repeat caesarean. Eventually when we did the growth scans and it being another big baby (it was estimated 88th, then 76th then back to 86th centiles through the scans) I decided it was likely to be safer to repeat C section.

That meant that when it came to making the birth plan things were a tiny bit more straight forward. One thing we decided as a team was that we would schedule it for 39 weeks all being well.

Spoilers. All did not go to plan. At 37 ish weeks I went into maternity with what I assumed to be weird Braxton hicks that turned out to be contractions. Ok, being honest I was deluding myself trying to convince myself that they were Braxton hicks, Spoilers, they were not.

So, after an hour hooked up to a monitoring machine, contractions still going and getting a little stronger they decided to admit me for the night. My deluded ass having gone in with only a handbag assuming I was just going to be monitored for an hour told it was Braxtons and sent home. So the first night was a bit rocky. Given that I had to be stabbed in the ass with a steroid to hell little ones lungs. Told we would see how it went in the morning.
I severely doubt that I got more than an hours sleep that night between contractions that went on to the next day.

The Doctor came in in the morning and said they would be discussing me in the rounds in a bit to decide what to do as I still had another dose of steroids to do given that the contractions were continuing. She seemed a little disappointed I’d not magically given birth in my sleep which would have been a hell of a more interesting story.

Instead just after eating breakfast she walked in the room and announced the baby was coming that afternoon via C section and it was time for more steriods. So it was a long old wait till the afternoon.

C section was… well… it’s own kind of trauma to be honest they are terrifying.

Skip to later in the day, baby ok, kiddo 1 is ok, everyone ok.

Spent maybe 4 days in hospital before hospital food itself chased me away.

So far I’ve kept all my organs this time. So that’s a bonus.

Well… I hadn’t expected all this.

The day after the midwife appointment I got a call at like 8.30am from the maternity unit. They asked me to come in for blood tests. So of course my nosy self was like why?

Turns out my PCR (protein in the wee) previous result was 38, the sample the midwife sent off during my 36 week appointment apparently reached 130.

So in I go for blood tests, told to stay put and watch TV till they get results. Sent of more pee. Oh and blood pressure was taken about 3-4 times, within the normal range though thankfully.

Eventually the consultant was able to come in and chat. The bloods are normal but higher than the last time they took them. I had a few symptoms that we are keeping an eye on. So we were definitely looking at preeclampsia. Which didn’t help feeling so overwhelmed because that meant that there was a new plan from weekly monitoring moving into a visit every two days for pee, blood, and blood pressure. Did I mention I hate needles?