Becoming a REAL family...

So baby boy number 3, Osian, completed our puzzle without us knowing it needed completing! This little miracle babe revived our souls, our lives and our love. Plodding along was no longer an option! We had become sick of leaving each other every week, whilst Simeon drove 2.5 hours away every Sunday evening. Resentment kicked in too, I hated him coming home just to leave again. I struggled during the week solo, breastfeeding & a needy baby imprisoned me to the house. My only retreat was the school run which sometimes ended in coffee at the local cafe before returning to my hovel of a home. All we both really wanted was a complete family, together. Both of us weary about the subject it took us until Osian was about 6 months old to bring it up, it had been a long time coming!!

We went away for two nights up in Brecon, with just the two littles. James chose to stay with his grandparents as he's at that age when going to a beautiful village with your parents is a form of torture! Driving up to Brecon my husband approached the distance subject with caution. We had been going through a rough patch (AGAIN!) and I think he was worried I'd jump in feet first without thinking if he said LETS DO IT! So our options were him to get out of the army (let's be honest that was never an option really, civvy street is more daunting than ever when military ways are all you know) or we pack up and take the leap into military life up on camp, but at least we'd be together as a family. We discussed this a lot over the two days away. We went to a lovely local restaurant and I sat there looking at his handsome face. We could do this! I could do this! LETS DO THIS! 

The decision was made, we needed to be together before this family fell apart. It was an all or nothing situation. And we were both ready to give our all. My husband opened up about how he hated leaving us on a Sunday, and that Osian made it even harder. All weekend he would end up holding us at arms length knowing that he'd have to say good bye again, which was killing us all. 

Excitement built, anxiety built, then happiness connected the both. We'd been together 7 years, raised two children, and now a third had been thrown into the bedlam. I was so happy that we were giving everything and being together, as a proper family. Finally! 

Telling my eldest was the hardest. He has an amazing bond with his grandparents and even though I knew that bond would never weaken, he had a freak out about it. He was worried about leaving his friends, his grandparents, his father. We sat him down and talked everything through with him, the good and the bad. He soon realised that we weren't doing this to hurt him, that we were doing it for a better life - together! James is very mature for his age, and very knowing. He's a sensitive soul, but so so strong. As an 11 year old he has gone through so much, he amazes me every day (even now). 

Waving goodbye to Wales was hard, I'm only 2.5 hours from home but I ain't gonna drive that for a brew with my mum. Thankfully she's been fully supportive and surprises us with visits every now and again. 

Cymru Am Byth! 

James and Tomas as we set off on our new adventure to our new home...

A year full of nappies, nipples and no wine!

So you now know how my baby boy was brought into this world, bless him. And me! I still sometimes think about it and cry. I feel so blessed to have all 3 of my boys. They're such a blessing, and I couldn't be without them. 

One year on I'm still breastfeeding my little one. He's a proper boob-man. He even motor-boats me... IN PUBLIC! We waited until 6 months to do baby led weaning with him also, as when I tried weaning him with purees he used to vomit about 10 times in an hour. Like projectile all over me. It was horrendous! And I couldn't put him through it, I was worried he'd hate food, and worried I'd smell of sick forever! Baby led weaning has been so much fun though. We started with boring food as I was still weary of him having solids, so bread, baby biscuits, baby crisps, tomato and cucumber were my basic starter tasters. Now however he eats everything, by himself. At 13 months he started using a spoon but before that he was elbow deep in his grub and loved it! He is such a character. His big brothers worship him, he's gonna be so spoilt! 

Disposable nappies? I was a big fat failure at attempting cloth bumming. The first time he wore one he did a poop within half an hour. Having used Pampers with my other two I was much more in tune with whipping it off and launching it straight into the bin. With 3 boys and a soldier at home my washing pile is enough without adding poop stained nappies to the mix. I would have loved to have succeeded but some things just aren't for everyone. 

My favourite thing every day is dressing my baby boy. Boy clothes these day are so much more fun than 11 years ago! The high street is almost just as diabolical though I might add. I personally think the best high street shops for boys are Zara, H&M, Gap and the Little Bird by Jools range in Mothercare. I rarely find anything I like in other shops out there. I am a complete handmade addict! Instagram has transformed my baby clothes life completely. I shall do a post on handmade soon, and I'll be able to direct you to some of my faves! 

Anyway, back to the nipples.... Those bad boys are the reason there has also been no wine. Ive not had a good drink for almost 2 years now, and I'm not even missing it. I don't need to go out and get drunk for a good time. I don't think I'll go back to drinking when the baby decides he no longer wants the boob, the thought of a hangover - no thanks!! Breastfeeding is so special to me, I always get the question "when are you going to stop?" But I have no plans of stopping any time soon. He no longer needs milk throughout the day if we're out and about. Which is great, in the house he'll still use a bit of the boob to fall asleep. But I don't mind that. We have an amazing bond through breastfeeding. It's just amazing. Also breastfeeding has become a part of who I am at the moment. Ive had a baby hanging off the nipple for over a year now, and I wouldn't change it at all! I'm not one of those crazed breast feeders though, if you choose the bottle great, if you choose the boob great also. I chose breastfeeding because it was free, but now even with all the money in the world I'd still breastfeed. My husband has been a great support with my choices, and as the baby refuses bottle and dummy I'm sole feeder. Which of course I don't mind. Means I get him all to myself in our feeding moments, although at 3am it's a struggle sometimes. One full night sleep would be delightful! 

I think that's filled in most of the gaps of the past year! Watch this space.... 

Hat: RyderL and Outfit: Eversew Beautiful

Baby Boy H...

Wow! It's been a year since my last blog! So much has happened in this past year my 'catch up' post may take two posts, as there has been two major events in the last 12 months.

Well the last time I blogged it was 5 days to my due date. So you can guess what comes next...
My baby boy arrived, I'd like to say in style but on the hospital communal toilet floor on the ward isn't very stylish at all. What happened leading up to this moment was not what I had planned or wanted, so let me fill in some gaps. As you know I wanted a water birth at the midwifery led unit, as you also know my blood pressure was borderline high. On the 10th February I went into the hospital for a routine blood pressure check due to mine being borderline high. When I sat in the cold plastic chair in agony I saw the midwife's face screw up looking at the blood pressure device. She called another midwife over to "double check" the reading. My heart sank "it's high isn't it?" I asked. "Yes, very, if you go into the waiting room I need to discuss something with the Dr". I sat back down in the waiting room, on my own, and waited for the midwife or Dr to call me back in. Deep down I knew this birth wasn't going to go as I wanted, but I rang my mum told her my bloody pressure reading and tried to convince myself that they would let me home saying "it's fine, I feel fine, they'll let me go home I'm sure and probably ask me to go back to the hospital tomorrow". My mum wasn't convinced and insisted she left work right then to come meet me at the antenatal clinic. The Dr called me in, and in no less words said "we need to get this baby out now, we'll double dose you on blood pressure medication and will have to blue light you to the labour ward". I tried to digest this and not freak out as that would not help my blood pressure. My dream of a midwifery led birth desolved in my mind. I cried my eyes out, and my mum walked in. My mum spoke to the Dr for me and convinced her to let my mum take me to the labour ward so I could go home and gather my overnight bag, the only agreed to this because the double dose of meds had kicked in and my blood pressure was lowering. I rang my husband who sped down the M4 to ensure he was at his sons birth.

At the hospital the delivery suite was shut, but I was assigned a bed on the induction ward, and would be induced as soon as space on the delivery ward became available. My husband arrived and stayed with me overnight, and I was then induced the following morning around 9am. My bishops score wasn't the best but as he was my third child the midwife had her hopes up that we would have our new baby boy that day. As my induction first time around (first baby) worked rapidly I was hoping this would also do the same. Waiting was a killer. I bathed, I waddled around the hospital (husband holding me up), praying something, anything would kick start this baby's arrival. The agony of my SPD landed me back in my bay at the ward, laying in my bed watching movies on the iPad. Moaning women surrounded me, an angry husband shouting at the midwife was in the bay next door. He was so rude, I lay there with my husband tutting as he angrily shouted "my wife is agony, this is not good enough where's the nearest private hospital? I'll bloody pay, you midwives here are hopeless". The midwives on the ward were amazing in my opinion, overworked maybe, but stretched themselves to ensure all ladies on the ward were seen to and not left in pain. This gentleman (and his wife) were stuck up and pushy. Midwives deserve respect! As I was listening to their muttering, and gathering of belongings (the poor midwives were, it seemed, forced to transfer his wife to the delivery suite for pain relieve), my "Braxton Hicks" became stronger, and I actually had to start breathing through the pain. Excitedly I said to my husband "Oh I think something is finally happening, could you find the midwife and ask if I could have some paracetamol please" - just to take the edge off the pain. My husband scurried off and came back with a birthing ball and said the midwife won't be long with meds for me, she was in handover. I purched myself on the ball, that was too painful, so I got up on the bed on all fours. To my delight a midwife came up to my bed, but she didn't have any paracetamol. She wanted to check my progress before giving me paracetamol. With great difficulty I lay on my back and found to be 3cm, and she said I could go up on the delivery suite and could have the birthing pool as my blood pressure had come bad down. I was delighted. Delighted until I realised I was like a turtle on his back and completely stuck because of my SPD pain. And then I needed the toilet. I tried explaining the midwife that I needed the toilet but couldn't move and she explained that I either get up and go to the toilet or they'll have to give me a catheter. Sheer horror made me move, and my husband carried me to the toilet. He said he'd go pack up all our stuff ready to move up to the delivery suite. Although before my butt hit the seat I was screaming. In my head I kept thinking "You're only 3cm Kirsty, stop screaming, you're being ridiculous, you've got hours of this pain yet. Man up". Three midwives came rushing in. One with a bedpan in her hand, sliding it behind me onto the seat she said to me "You are not giving birth to this baby into the toilet Kirsty come on". My head was all over the place. I couldn't move, I dropped to the floor in the toilet cubicle. I didn't know what was going on but I knew my body was telling me this baby was coming. My husband still outside on the ward packing up our stuff, the cleaner turned to him and said "I think you need to get in there love". He replied "no, we're going up to the delivery suite now", she said "no love I think she's going to have the baby in there". "Do you think?" He said dropping our stuff and legging it back to the toilet. When he came in the scene that welcomed him was not what he was expecting. Two midwives trying to get me to crawl out of the cubicle, and another contacting the resus team. I had a contraction, my waters went. "HES COMING" I screamed. One of the midwives and my husband helped me crawl out of the cubicle. I had another contraction "HIS HEADS COMING OUT, HIS HEADS COMING OUT", as I screamed these words I delivered his head into my hand, whilst still on all fours on the toilet floor. I have never been so scared in my life. The midwives started discussing the plan of action "as soon as he is out, you rush him out to the resus team and we'll sort Kirsty to take her to the emergency ward". My head was all over the place, I stared and focused on the tap under the sinks, "focus Kirsty, focus". Another contraction, I screamed "HES COMING" and the midwife who was sat behind me caught his limp, blue body. The midwife cut his cord, bundled him in a towel ready to rush him out to the resus team. "HES NOT CRYING. HES NOT MOVING. MY BABY" I screeched. My body had locked into position and I was now stuck on the toilet floor on all fours, without my baby. My husband said it was only a matter of seconds but it felt a lifetime, and then my beautiful baby boy took his first gasp of air. He was breathing. My world came back together, he was alive. They passed our beautiful boy to my husband and one of the midwives helped him tickle his feet to help baby cry. That cry was the most wonderful sound in the world at that moment in time. The midwives helped me up off the floor slowly and I was laid on the hospital bed right outside the toilet door to be wheeled down to my bay on the ward. I think I put fear into a lot of first time mummies on that induction ward that day. I delivered the placenta in my bay on the ward with the curtains pulled.

He was here. Well and healthy. My fear of a big baby didn't matter, my bundle weighed 7lb 11oz and was perfect.

Me and Baby Boy H, first picture together!

The plan was to call him Dylan, but whilst my husband had been away to Belize I completely went off that name and couldn't imagine naming my child it.   So for now he was Baby Boy H!! I had a name up my sleeve but worried it was too unusual and people would comment on it, as they do when you like a name society isn't used to! So I pondered on that during our first night together, alone as my husband had to get home to James and Tomas. Baby Boy H wasn't a fan of sleep, the midwives had him for me for an hour but all he wanted was me and my boobs. 

The next day my husband was in first thing and we both decided the name up my sleeve fitted him perfectly (my husband had suggested it when I went off Dylan, so he did have his input)! Osian Francis it was! My perfect little Oshi-Monster! 

Osian Francis, the loveliest x

Low and ready to go...

5 days to D Day!! 

As of 2:30am last Sunday morning, this is officially my longest pregnancy ever! James was born at 39 weeks exactly! I've actually given up on expecting to go into labour any time soon, this baby boy is either going to be my trouble maker or my lazy one... Or both!! 

Yesterday was by far my worst day of SPD! I could hardly walk! I broke down into tears throughout the day, and simply could not cope with the pain. It's not necessarily better today, but at least it's less painful when I sit (which yesterday it was not)! 

As previously stated I haven't particularly had an easy pregnancy with any of my babies. With James I was young and suffered with Pre-Eclampsia (http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/Pre-eclampsia/Pages/Introduction.aspx). With Tomas I suffered with Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction for the first time, however was not diagnosed until gone 30 weeks and therefore Tomas's pregnancy was probably my easiest. This time I have numerous pregnancy related issues, I feel like a midwifery text book as I reel them off - SPD (http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/pregnancy-and-baby/pages/pelvic-pain-pregnant-spd.aspx), 

hideous swelling to my hands feet and face, 

low iron levels, 

borderline high blood pressure and 

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/carpal-tunnel-syndrome/Pages/Whatisit.aspx). 

I also have an anterior placenta, and the baby is laying right into my back I've been told. That should explain why my SPD is so severe at times!

I am so far from the "Pregnancy Glow" that I fear I will never glow again!! 

After seeing the midwife yesterday I was very pleased that she could tell me he is very low and in the right place to go go go! My hospital bags are ready, we are just waiting on baby boy now! So it's all ball bouncing and pineapple eating today... 

Returning & Ready to Give Birth....

So my blog is slow, I do apologise.

Upon my husbands return from his overseas exercise my life went upside down, but I believe we have turned full circle now, and I'm feeling more content in all aspects of my life. I cannot return to that dark period to explain the past 3/4 months to you all, so please bare with me as I get back into this.

The good news is... I am FULL TERM and baby boy is due in just 10 days! This pregnancy has not been easy, but then again I've never had an easy one!! My SPD has progressed and it is becoming increasingly harder to walk, or even manoeuvre in bed! My husband has returned to his army barracks, meaning I'm flying solo in pain looking after my boys! The light at the end of the tunnel is visible though, and that's all I'm focusing on.

Braxton Hicks are becoming my arch enemy, teasing me on a daily basis with unnecessary pain! If only it was the real thing and baby boy was on his way! This one isn't as eager to arrive as Tomas, as if he was he would have been here last Saturday! Maybe he's waiting for the weekend, waiting for daddy to come home! Only time will tell!

Birth planning : I'm extremely anxious about the birth, one anxiety being whether my husband will make it in time if he is in work when Baby H starts making his way into the world, and my other anxiety is the baby being big. I am not carrying big (on the 50th centile), however I just have this feeling he's going to be a chub and that makes me very nervous! 

I am still under midwifery led care, meaning I can give birth at the midwifery led unit at my local hospital. This makes me very pleased, as I had Tomas in the midwifery led unit and it was a fantastic birth. I am hoping for a water birth, however I know labours are unpredictable. I wanted a water birth with Tomas, but got out of the pool to push. This time I would like to give birth in the pool. Fingers crossed!! 

Glad to be back to blogging though, and hopefully my next post should include a new bouncing baby boy...

Weekends alone....

My weekend this week kicked off as many will for the next term, with Tomas's swimming lesson. This was his second swimming lesson as a space only became available last week for him to finally start (after 2-3 months on the waiting list). 

Splash Swim School in the vale of Glamorgan are fantastic. They coped really well with my eldest son when he was with them as he is absolutely petrified of the water and it took him a lot to even get in. He would cry and all sorts. Needless to say he only lasted one term with them because I couldn't put him through the torture every week. He had a week swimming tuition through school and also learned whilst in Spain on holiday with his grandparents. He's still cautious in the water and holds onto me but he's getting better. 

Tomas on the other hand, he's a maniac in water anyway, and when my husband takes him swimming he jumps in off the edge and goes down the slides (the top of his head is literally on the safety line, hehe). He also loves the lazy river! 

So swimming lesson No.2 went very well. Tomas can now happily swim without aid from the swimming coach, and the only aid is his armbands. Granted he's slow but he won't let the coach hold him at all, and he also loves "being a rocket" which is holding onto the side and pushing away with his feet so he springs into the water. 

He came out after his 30 minutes and was gutted as he wanted to stay in there longer. I was so so proud of his performance I decided I'd treat him with a movie night before bed! 

James was at his grandparents for the weekend, so it was just Tomas and I for the next two nights. As mentioned in my introduction post my husband is a serving member of our armed forces. At the moment he is currently away for an overseas exercise. Unfortunately with this exercise comes zero contact. My last contact from him was Monday morning before I rushed into work, and it was only via Whatsapp. Thankfully I managed to ask for a little selfie, and seeing his face that morning after a week apart already was bliss. So handsome! 

This weekend was a weekend of fun and love from my littlest boy! We sat down Friday evening with a special make-your-own pizza from Asda and little bowls of snacks. Chose a film off on-demand on the TV and snuggled down. It was precious. Moments like this were simply some of my favourite memories! We opted for Dennis the Menace movie and Tomas was hysterical. I love watching and hearing him giggle. Dennis also reminded me of Tomas's cheekiness, smart answers back and accidentally causing trouble, even though it was genuinely an accident. 

We ended up getting sleepy together, and went to bed at the same time. A successful evening, regardless of both of us missing two of our specials! 

Saturday morning seemed just as eventful with a family fun day at our local church. Meeting new friends, painting faces and drinking lots of tea... Oh not forgetting bouncing up and down, and side to side on the bouncy castle (Tomas not me). 

The remainder of our Saturday was a lot less busy, visiting family and snuggling on the sofa again, this time to watch Princess Diaries. The empty space on the sofa usually occupied by my husband was more apparent this time. Putting Tomas to bed and climbing into bed alone was worse than the night before. Maybe I wasn't as sleepy. This resulted in odd dreams and waking due to being uncomfortable throughout the night. 

Waking on Sunday, with a sneaky little dude in my bed made me feel a tad better about my broken sleep. We spent the morning lazing around and when we finally got ourselves dressed we found ourselves in a coffee shop having a teacake and pot of tea. Waiting patiently for the call from my mother to say what time dinner will be ready. 

Tonight brings a bit more normality to our lives. James comes home, and it's early nights (I hope) ready for school in the morning... Another successful weekend down without "Daddy" and "hubby". 

Standard 1st Post - All About Me

Hi

I hate the awkwardness of introducing myself for the first time, always reminds me of Hollywood movie AA meetings - "Hi, I'm Kirsty and I've been sober now for 5 months. Not out of choice but due to baking a baby".

Well, now that awkwardness is out of the way...

Hi, I'm Kirsty, I'm 28, currently mother of 2, soon to be mother of 3! My story is probably similar to most mummies these days, I did everything backwards but then I never did like living by the rules.

I had my first son, James, when I was just 18. Not something I had planned, but not something I would change. Although who has the power to change destiny? My eldest child has made me the mother I am today, and although he tests my patience (like most children) he is the corner stone of my household.

When James was just 3 years old I split from his father. It was a decision that took me 2 years to make. Living with a man who I didn't love, due to not wanting to be a single mother, along with being the teenage mother society referred to me as. Labelled!

Within months of becoming single I met a man who would change my life, make me believe I wasn't just what society thought of me. I was a student in Cardiff University and one of my fellow students was having her engagement party. I decided to go along, not realising I would be the only one from uni there. Needless to say I needed Dutch courage to socialise in a room full of people I didn't know. "Same again?" The barmaid would say, double vodka and coke down the hatch. I turned from the bar clocking this tall man, wearing a baby blue jumper and jeans. He was gorgeous. I stumbled over and managed the words "You're lush you are". That was the start of my budding romance with the man who made me his wife. He clearly saw potential in that drunken mess of a girl in an incy wincy navy polka dot dress.

Maybe it was the dress...

Within the first year of our whirlwind romance we planned our first child together. My (now) husband is a serving soldier in the British Army, and within a year of my first loving words he was to be deployed to Afghanistan. I had my coil removed, despite both of us being convinced it would not happen prior to this operational tour. The first month my menstrual cycle came and went as normal. The second month I hastily  awaited his return home for the weekend, eager to know the reason why my period was late with crossed fingers. He came home, it was Friday 13th, typical. I pee'd on the white stick, left it on the bathroom floor and sat on my bed, I want to say patiently but that would be lying. After the said waiting time he went to check. I moved back to lean on the pillows. He came in, head hanging down with the test in his hand. He shook his head, looked up at me and I squealed. His eyes wouldn't lie! We were pregnant!!!

Baby number 2 (for me) was baking away nicely. My husband left for Afghanistan within a week of my 12 week scan. The remainder of the pregnancy was going to be like an operational tour of my own, alone. My due date was approaching and I found myself hobbling along on crutches due to suffering from SPD (Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction). My partner wasn't due to fly home until after my due date, but I was convinced I would go early as my first son was a week early as I was induced due to being diagnosed with pre-eclampsia. Despite my first labour being induced I was still convinced this baby would come before my mans return.

One evening I sat in my living room, waiting for my in laws to pop in with baby things they had purchased for me. James was in bed. There was a knock at the door about 19:30, FINALLY I thought as I was shattered and ready for bed. Opening the front door I was faced with a uniformed man, I stumbled backwards having no idea what was happening. I managed to muster the words "What's going on?"

"It's me baby" the man said. He came and held me up. Kissed me and said "that wasn't the reaction I was expecting". Need I say, I went into labour the next morning. After a 2 and a half hour labour our beautiful baby boy Tomas was born, 15 days early. How special it was to have had my man at the birth, after such anxiety thinking I would be doing it alone!

The following year I became a Mrs. His Mrs. We made the decision to not move into military quarters and I stayed in our family home in Wales, whilst he was based 3 hours away. People say marriage is just a piece of paper, but it is so much more.

That brings me up to the present day. Baby number 3... This special little bean was our lovely surprise. Unplanned but not unloved. I am currently 19 weeks pregnant with baby boy number 3. Convinced I will create my own army of boys.

Now it appears you know my mummy story so far... Military and milk!