0

Right on Time!

As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I (like millions of other women) immediately (and excitedly) calculated my due date.

Baby’s due date was August 31st. I was, to be honest, a little disappointed. I checked to see if I’d made a mistake. I checked to see if there was any way I could change my due date to September 1st!

Yes. School cut-off dates. Yes. Many people thought I was (and still am) mental. No one else seemed to think that being the youngest in the class would be a disadvantage. In fact, many thought I was being a bit silly and that it didn’t matter at all. But it does matter. I’ve SEEN it in classrooms time and time again. And I found this article, which just proved my point.

As you probably read, because of some issues, I had to see a specialist early on in my pregnancy. When I saw the her, she told me that if I was going to have a c-section, it would have to be about ten days to two weeks before my due date. Not having a c-section actually didn’t cross my mind. I felt it was a matter of ‘better the devil you know’.

This made things more difficult. So I would definitely have a ‘young’ baby (it makes sense in my head) and I had to choose which day he would be born. How would I choose?

I spent the next few months annoying the hell out of LagosDad. Which date would we choose? Would it be a ‘good’ day? Etc. The one date that I was thinking about didn’t thrill me much as we know many children with the same birthday.

Having the baby in Dubai didn’t happen (a good thing, I think) and I saw my consultant in London at thirty weeks. I told him that I really wanted to have a September baby. He knew why immediately. He suggested just waiting to see what happened. He said we’d schedule the c-section for September 1st, unless I went into labour before, of course.

I was ecstatic. I was in with a chance of having a September baby!

I reported this latest piece of news to my parents and my in laws. Forgetting that they don’t actually give a crap and that having a September baby isn’t all that important to them. Instead my mother-in-law gave me a list of (August) dates which were ‘meant to be very lucky’. And told me that the first few days in September were very unlucky. I was livid – combine that with raging hormones and… Well you wouldn’t have wanted to see me.

My mum was in India at the time. I asked her to PLEASE go and see our pundit (priest) and ask him if there was any truth in what my mother-in-law was saying.

I’d like to say that I don’t believe in all this lucky and unlucky nonsense, but the fact of the matter is that if I can do something that may be better for my children, then I will – even if it’s reluctantly! Also, sometimes my mother-in-law’s facts need double-checking.

Anyway, so my mum came back to me to say she (my mil) was right (damn!) and that September 1st would be ok as long as it was before mid-day. Relief. I was scheduled for 8 am.

Everything was back on track. Unless I went into labour before.

On the 29th of August I was feeling like hell. My legs hurt. My head hurt. I didn’t want to move or go anywhere or do anything. I just wanted to sit in front of the television with a pile of Magnum ice creams (only the Classic kind). I went to bed early and felt much better on the 30th.

That day (the 30th), LagosDad and I went to the Lindo Wing for some blood tests. Then we went out for lunch and to run one or two errands. The next day was my due date, but this baby was going to stay in until September 1st!

Alas, I was wrong.

Lots of (possibly unwanted and too much) information coming your way now – so you may not want to read any more.

I woke up on the 31st morning and needed to pee (for the millionth time). And I saw that I was bleeding. I knew I’d bleed a bit, but I didn’t realise it would be quite that much. I nearly had a breakdown (in private). My first thought (and I’ve not told anyone this) was that there was something wrong with my baby. All I could think about was the bleeding at the beginning of the pregnancy. Once I snapped out of it, I figured that my waters had broken.

I woke LagosDad and my mum. I rang the hospital to tell them I was coming in. And it was during that conversation that I realised that my waters hadn’t broken before. I knew that because they broke during the phone conversation!

I was a little concerned about a few things. All my fault for leaving it so late – but I was going to shave my legs and have my bikini line done, as well as get a mani and pedi that day. I even thought I’d try and fit in a blow dry!

How could I go to the hospital and have people see me when I hadn’t ‘groomed’ myself?! I was so embarrassed! Apparently, according to the midwives, they’d seen worse – so I was ok. Phew.

They monitored baby’s heart rate and everything was fine. My consultant came in to see me and said we could still wait and see what happened.

It was about half past eight in the morning. How long did he think I was going to wait? I hadn’t had any contractions. I didn’t feel anything really.

So I decided, if the baby wanted to come that day, he was coming. Whether we I liked it or not. And I told the doctor to take him out.

Vinay was born by emergency c-section on his due date. Everything happened fast that day. People were rushing around. With Varun, it was very different. Everyone was so relaxed and laid back. I found myself wondering why it was all taking so long and trying not to twiddle my thumbs (in between bouts of throwing up because of the anaesthetic).

Once he was born (9.41 am), my mum and my in laws all said that he was born on a very, very lucky day. It was Ganesh Chaturthi. I had to accept that this was a good thing!

One thing though… And I asked LagosDad about this… See he, his brother and his dad all have terrible time-keeping skills. What’s worse than terrible? Whatever it is – it’s worse. So what I wanted to know is, if all three of them are ridiculously late for everything, how come both his sons arrived right on time?

 

2

Enjoying It

Baby V is nearly two months old now. In fact, now that I look at the date, I see he’ll be two months old tomorrow.

He’s growing fast and really is quite adorable. Even at four in the morning (sometimes).

A few weeks ago while we were having a chat (yes, Baby V and I), my mum asked me if I was ‘enjoying him’. I was a bit confused by the question. He’s a baby, of course I’m enjoying him. But when I went to sleep that night, I started to think about what she had asked me (I really should have just gone to sleep – God knows I get so little of it these days!).

When V was born (V1. Big V. I never know what to call him.) I didn’t have to think about anything apart from him. Sometimes I took him out with us, sometimes I left him at home with a babysitter (I’m talking about when he was a newborn – before we went back to Lagos when he was twelve weeks old). At the time I’m sure I agonised over every decision, but looking back on it – I literally had nothing else to worry about. Apart from going back to Lagos with a baby and how to deal with a whole host of different issues.

And this time?

Apart from (again) agonising over all the usual baby decisions – Should I bathe him if he had a bath yesterday? Should I wake him for a feed? Will that rash go away? Is it because of the baby products? Should I change the products? Well, they were good enough for his brother, why shouldn’t he use the same? (By the way, it turns out I did need to change the products) Never ending.

I’ve been worrying about V1 as well. How is he coping? Is he getting enough attention? Have I told him to stop talking too many times today? Is he watching too much television? Is he settled in nursery? Why won’t he eat anything apart from chocolate? Why is he having another meltdown? Have I got all his school uniform for when we go back? Is he missing too much? Will all the other kids be fully settled? Why won’t he leave the house? Why does he want to wear the same bloody vest every day? Why is he obsessed with buying toys? And on and on and on.

Baby V hasn’t had his eight week vaccinations yet. Because of that I don’t want to take him on the bus and have people breathe all over him. So anywhere we go – we walk. There and back. Because of that I can’t always take V1 because he can’t manage the long walks. The nanny is here and being super helpful – but she can’t handle both children (and I wouldn’t want her to) at the same time. So one of them has to come out with me at all times. To be honest, it’s easier to take Baby V. Mostly because he doesn’t talk! But it means I have to walk whether I want to or not. It’s much easier now that LagosDad is here (after being away for six weeks). V1 and he are busy doing all sorts of things from Lego to errands in Marks & Spencer. Basically, what I’m complaining about is the logistics and having to think everything through three times before committing to a plan! It’s not a big deal – it’s just something I have to get used to!

In addition, whenever I’ve been to London before or gone to Dubai, I’ve lived with my parents. Even when V1 was born. Now we are renting the flat we are in. LagosDad hasn’t been here much and things I’ve never had to do have come up. I realise that these are small things – but these are things that I’ve never had to do before… Reading gas and electricity meters and paying the bills. Paying council tax bills. Paying Internet, cable TV and phone bills.

Being able to pay everything online makes it all so easy – but it’s just extra things to think about!

It’s all been a bit overwhelming – but not unmanageable!

In spite of all that, I’m trying to convince LagosDad to let us stay here until Christmas. But he’s not having any of it.

While I’m stressing myself over everything (as usual (I’m a worrier, I have to face it)), I have to admit that I don’t enjoy everything about motherhood. I don’t enjoy waking up at four am. I don’t like that I’ve not had a chance to catch up on some of my favourite TV shows. I don’t enjoy changing dirty nappies and being vomited on.

But, I love my Baby V (and my Big V). I love talking to him and getting a reaction. A coo or a smile. I love massaging and bathing him. I love kissing his nose and counting his toes. Looking at him melts my heart.

So yes, I am enjoying him.

And I wouldn’t swap places with anyone. Unless, of course, they had five nannies.

 

 

10

A Day Out

I’ve been feeling so guilty about not spending any time with V (and about all the negative attention he’s been getting) that I decided to take him out yesterday. Luckily my mum is still here and was able to watch Baby V for the day.

I collected him from nursery and took him out to lunch on the High Street.

Lunch on the High Street

 

 

 

 

 

 

We took the bus from St John’s Wood, went down Baker Street, Oxford Street, Regent Street and got off at Piccadilly Circus and walked through Leicester Square.  Leicester Square has become such a dump! Or has it always been that way? Maybe I was too young/drunk to notice?

We walked past Cafe de Paris…

Cafe

 

 

 

 

 

Ahhh… The (very hazy) memories! I hate to think about how much money I spent on disgusting Bazooka Joe shots!

Anyway, we finally reached our destination…

London Transport Museum

 

 

 

 

I hadn’t been to Covent Garden in years. I forgot how much I loved going there. I was desperate to wander around, but V was having none of it!

V was in heaven. He was surrounded by buses!

Bus

 

 

 

 

 

 

And their wheels!

WHEELS

 

 

 

 

 

 

And he got to ‘drive’. He couldn’t ask for more!

20141002_143112 Driving

2

One Month

So, it’s been a month.  A month and two days since I’ve been a mum of two.

I’ve wanted to update my blog before, but I’ve not really had the time!

My mum arrived about three weeks before Baby V did and she’s still here.  She’s planning to leave next week, but I’m doing all that I can to keep her here for longer!

V2 is quite a good baby.  He feeds about every four hours.  We have good days and bad days.  And of course, good nights and bad nights.  There are nights he just won’t settle and there are others where he just passes out!

V1 has been… Ok.  That’s really the only word I can use to describe him. He’s fine with his brother. He helps me with choosing clothes and changing nappies (providing Octonauts isn’t on) and likes to feel needed.  But he has been acting out also.

While LagosDad was here, V1 was getting a lot of attention – they did a lot together.  Bus rides, Science Museum, etc.  LagosDad left on 11th September and V1 is really missing him. He wasn’t happy to start school. He wasn’t happy to go to the park. He wasn’t happy to do his Kumon, nothing.  He has given us all a very rough time. His whole attitude sucked.

He has made me so cross sometimes – but I have to just stop and remind myself… New country, new school, new environment, new sibling, no LagosDad, not as much time with Mama as before. And then I feel like a crap mum!

We’ve had a few visitors come by and see Baby V. During this time V would shout at anyone talking while he was watching TV (including the midwife and health visitor). He would also climb into my lap after I fed Baby V and ask me to burp him (gross) and stroke his hair.  Poor guy – it made me feel so guilty that I wasn’t spending enough time with him.

He’s kind of settled down now – he still has his moments, but he has become better.

 

2

The Last Time

I’ve got lots to blog about. V1, V2 – the usual. But my laptop isn’t working and though they’ve called me to tell me I can collect it – they weren’t able to save/retrieve ANYTHING. No documents, music or photos. Nothing. That will teach me not to back up.
Anyway, so I just saw the following on Facebook and wanted to share it. It made me cry (as many things do). I think more because I realised how true it is…

Take a little extra time to hold your children…

IMG_0916

0

What’s That, Mama?!

Baby V and I came home from the hospital yesterday. While the experience was very positive, three days was enough and I couldn’t wait to come home to V.
V was super-excited to have us home and was being extra helpful. He helped me put laundry in the laundry basket, wipe his brother’s mouth when he threw up and change a yucky nappy. It was during the nappy change that the following happened. ..
V: Mama, what’s that?!
Me: V, you know that’s his nooni.
V: No mama. That!
Me (knowing what he’s talking about but wondering which word to use): That’s his belly button. Remember I told you about the cord and. ..
V (cutting me off): No mama! THAT!
Me: Those are his testicles.
V: What are those for?
Me: Ummm. All boys have them.
V: I don’t have them.
Me: You do. When you have a bath tomorrow check, ok?
V went straight to the nanny, pulled down his pyjamas and asked her to look.
He came back and said: Oh yes! But you don’t have them, do you?
Me: No I don’t.

And then he skipped off and forgot about it.
Thank God!

13

He’s Arrived

image

Baby V (V2) arrived this morning. I was hoping he’d wait until tomorrow, but like V1, he decided he wanted to arrive on his due date!
I’m still in hospital. Waiting for LagosDad to bring V1 so he can meet his baby brother.
Posting from my phone, so no idea if this will work!
More soon.
X

4

Summer School

I had decided before coming to London that V would have to attend some sort of summer school/camp – at least in the mornings. He generally has better days when he’s in some kind of routine.
Many of the places I found were sports or drama camps and I really didn’t feel that they would suit V.
A friend recommended a place in May or June. I checked it out and got in touch with the head. This seemed like a good place for V. The head sent me the enrolment forms, but I never got round to filling them in. *embarrassed face*
V was super busy when LagosDad was here. They went to the Zoo, the aquarium, the Natural History Museum, Hamleys and were generally just out and about.
Once LagosDad left, it was up to me to entertain V. I managed the park a few times. Usually I leave that to our nanny. I took him to LegoLand one day with a whole bunch of friends. He loved it – but it took me two days to recover! We joined the library and basically ran errands together. V never complained. He loves going on the bus, buying ice cream and helping me sort out baby things. But I felt bad for him.
I had tried getting in touch with the head from the summer school again, but my emails and phone calls went unanswered. I subsequently found out that she had travelled and new students couldn’t be enrolled until she was back.
She got back last week, I went round there and V started on Monday. Hooray!
School is from 9am to 1pm. And he settled really well. No tears or anything.
However… There has to be one, right?
Instead of sending a snack to school with him, the children are given fruit at about 10 or 11 am. This is an excellent practice. But V will not eat fruit. He is a very, very poor eater. So he didn’t have snack. And he refused lunch. So when I picked him up, one of the teachers said he hadn’t eaten anything and they couldn’t give him his own snack as it wouldn’t be fair on the other children. I completely agreed with her.
On Tuesday he nibbled a bit of apple. But still wouldn’t eat lunch. He won’t eat pizza or pasta or sandwiches or fish fingers or any vegetables.
On Wednesday they suggested I collect him at 12pm instead of 1pm as he was just watching the others eat and was getting hungry!
I’ve been feeling bad for him, as he’s so hungry when I pick him up, but I also think it may be the only way he’s going to learn to eat new things.
The fact that he actually puts apple in his mouth, and eats a bit of it, is shocking!
Ideally, I’d like to enrol him at this nursery until half-term or even a bit longer – it depends on when we go back to Lagos – but what to do about this eating thing? He won’t even try the lunches (which means he misses out on dessert).

6

The Wedding

One of the biggest plus points of being in London over the summer meant that I could attend my cousin’s wedding. If I were going to have the baby in Dubai, as was the original plan, this wouldn’t have been possible.

The wedding was fantastic – three nights of partying. Everything went according to plan, the entertainment was brilliant and, of course, the bride was beautiful.

So three nights of partying. For everyone else! I couldn’t drink – but I danced until 3 and 4 in the morning! I had to sleep for two days after the reception, but I enjoyed myself.

I met so many people I hadn’t met in years and got to catch up with lots of family.

There was one girl I kept seeing. She looked familiar, but I just couldn’t place her. I asked someone her name and then realised I had no idea who she was.

She very randomly approached me at the reception and told me she was worried that her dress may fall off. Let me just reiterate – I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me. She then went on to tell me that she had recently lost a bit of weight after going to a nutritionist and that she was feeling great. She then said she wanted to lose more because she wants to look good. I heard about her friend who did some diet and how well it worked, etc. I tried to add a comment here and there, but the music was really loud and we could barely hear each other.

Then she asked me where I was staying. I told her. She said she wasn’t far from there and maybe we should meet up sometime. I nodded. She still didn’t know my name! She gave me her phone to put in my details and then gave me a missed call so I had her number.

Then she said: Isn’t it awful that women don’t support each other or share their weight loss secrets? We should meet for a nice big glass of wine and talk about how we can support each other while trying to lose weight.

Ummm…

I told her I wasn’t drinking until September-ish. She made a face.

I told her it was because I’m pregnant.

She tried not to look surprised!

Basically, she had this very long and boring conversation with me because she thought I was fat. Not pregnant!

9

Here I Am!

Hooray! We made it! We’re in London!

We’ve been here about ten days and have just been busy sorting out the flat – getting towels, an iron, hangers, a kettle, etc…  And of course the TV and Internet!

V is loving going to the park every day, feeding the ducks and playing in the playground.

I forgot how much I love London in the summer.  Although I am a hot and sweaty mess!

I am trying to be extra organised. I have been buying clothes for baby and V (school uniforms included) in bigger sizes for LagosDad to take back with him. And I’ve even ordered baby’s crib and a new mattress for the cot in Lagos.

I know I don’t have to do it all now, but I need to feel as though I’m doing *something* to organise myself. Plus the sales are on and it is the perfect time to buy summer clothes!

V has been doing a little shopping with me. He is very happy to come and choose things for the baby (as long as there’s something in it for him).

In fact, the other day we were wandering around John Lewis (he likes to call it, “the shop where you buy your bras”), and we were looking at the all the teddies. He said, “Mama, I think my baby brother would love to have this cuddly bear. I’m going to buy this bear to put in his cot.” A lady was walking past at this time and she stopped to listen to our conversation, with one hand over her heart.  A few seconds later he said, “Mama, you don’t worry about the baby ok? Don’t worry about anything because when the baby cries me and yaya (the nanny) will feed him his dudu (milk). Ok? You don’t worry.”

He really is growing up so fast.

Anyway, am off.

More soon!