Does anyone else’s breast pump talk to them? Or is it just me? I remember when the Bean (no.1 son) was born I used to hear words in the rhythm of the pump. And this hospital grade Medela has its own repertoire. Considering it presumably always makes roughly the same noise it is strange. Today it’s saying ‘you’re not afraid’. It’s usually a rallying cry, something positive. It’s a very therapeutic friend but has no real advice or entertaining conversation. Well if you spent this much time with a pump you’d hear voices too. At least it isn’t mean to me. Although when I was having a bad day with no.1 the Avent hand pump would jeer at me a bit. Notice it’s been dumped. Hearing voices and seeing things in’t that unusual for me. I’ve occasionally heard my grandad speak to me at times of stress (one particularly loud one on the tube) and I regularly see small animals that (I hope) aren’t there out of the corner of my eye. I put it down to an active imagination and general lack of sleep.
It’s 5am. Husband has got into the single dinosaur bed with our toddler as he woke up saying ‘No daddy’ which means he’s not going back to sleep easily. I am expecting to wake up this morning to see his angel face ruined by the pox and am preparing myself as he may be mighty grumpy. Hoping it will be mild, over and done. He’s quite stoic when he’s ill. G’s doctor friend Carl was good enough to come over last night and do an emergency blood test as the Husband can’t remember if he had it and won’t be allowed near the Special Care Baby Unit until the results come back. Apparently there’s some shot adults can take to immunise themselves. My parents are charging up tomorrow to look after L as mother in law doesn’t think she’s had it. So I am flying solo at the hospital!
Strangely not that bothered by this set back. I honestly think it’s great that
a) no.1 son will have got it over and done with
b) immaculate timing that he broke out in the blisters a day before I thought he could go back on the ward and three days before Beatrix was supposed to come home
And to my NCT mummy friend who I know is currently self flagellating for being the possible source you are only a bad person if I later find out you are psychic and knew your daughter was going to get it a week before she broke out in spots. Otherwise, you’re off the hook :))). Really. You did your job by telling me soon enough to keep Lucas away before he was infectious. Very responsible. Well done. It also is more likely to have come from any number of random little girls he has kissed in parks and playgrounds in the last two weeks. He is quite a Casanova. The other day I said she’s a pretty little girl and he spent the day pointing out all the pretty girls shouting z’look another one!’ He actually has quite good taste. I do worry that he will be a bit of a tart later I Le. Don’t know where he gets it from.
And anyway. What the heck. The babies have been in hospital 7 weeks. What’s another fortnight? I am starting to worry that I prefer them there with their NHS babysitters. Any chance of taking them back in every now and then? I have to be honest. The prospect of them being in our sole care (mine on long lonely days of maternity leave especially) is terrifying. Last night when I went back to feed them at 9pm all hell was breaking lose on the ward as a very sick baby had been admitted. When I arrived at 3 minutes to the nurse was stressed out. She said ‘they’re both crying, they’re both due. I don’t know what you’re going to,do. I’ve changed Bo their nappies for you. Maybe feed him first and she can wait a bit. I have to go and see to that sick baby.’ Ta. I comforted myself that mine weren’t considered sick any more.
For the first time I was confronted with two screaming babies, desperate for my milk and no back up. That’s how it’s going to be. I decided on a radical move and scooped them both up, stuck towels around the sides of the feeding chair and put them both in rugby hold and miraculously they both latched on. ‘I am the Queen!’ I yelped spontaneously, feeling smug as my litter fed. They both looked so surprised by my outburst that they immediately fell off again and started crying. It’s a bit like a fishing game double feeding with nipples for fishing rods, except you adjust to e tone on and the other pops off. They should be detachable. I’m going to need to crack it though. Beatrix gamely clung on in any position and carried on and Alexander got freaked out and couldn’t continue so I had to shove her back in her cot and plug her with a dummy and persist with the little man. No joy. They both kept crying after I put them back to sleep and seemed determined not to let me leave as 10 and 11pm passed. Little buggers. They are getting more aware and know how to manipulate me. And they are big enough and strong enough to cry quite loudly now, their sad little mouths are piteous and frog like when they squeal. Got back at 11.30. The pox is confirmed by doctor Carl who sweetly bought calamine lotion and other goodies. What a nice friend. Lucas is infectious for 9 days. Pray daddy doesn’t get it. No,idea what we do for child are next week. I’ve called all our emergency eastern European staff and they are busy. But that’s next week. Anyone fancy a poxy toddler Tuesday to Friday?
By the way, welcome to any new random readers via Mumsnet. I am a bit fricking freaked out by having got over 311 hits in one day yesterday (compared to a usual 80 or so) having registered on Mumsnet bloggers in a moment of vain madness the week before. My blog has been read by and passed the blog team test (presumably with 500 others but it’s nice to know someone mad ethe effort). So now I know it definitely can’t just be my mum and an army of Chinese aunties and cousins reading it six times a day (thanks family Chan and hello Toronto/Bangkok/the world). Going to have to up my game. Sure they will only pop in the once. Don’t worry. It’s only us here.
Right it’s getting light and I hear birds singing. Back to bed to squeeze the last hour of sleep out of the night.